PriLog-ic

The Cuckoo's Dilemma

2010-06-22T01:16:00.008+05:30

Once upon a time, in a jungle was a huge banyan tree, on which lived a squirrel and a cuckoo bird, both being new acquaintances. The squirrel and cuckoo would start their day finding food. The squirrel would munch on the nuts from a nearby tree, which were often tough to crack. The cuckoo, on the other hand would peck on any fruit whichever came it's way, and was contended with it. The squirrel would, then check the security of its nest, and looking after its children, while cuckoo would sit on its favourite branch and keep on humming in its mellifluous call.

The time passed by, their friendship grew stronger and they started sharing their thoughts too.
And with passing time, due to some unknown reason, cuckoo's songs were no longer enthusiastic, so one day, squirrel asked the bird- "friend, i couldn't help noticing it, but you look sad, and restless for past few weeks, is there anything bothering you?"

"Nothing i can think of. But it's true that something tells me that i'm not feeling well, mostly, i try to sing, but i don't find it interesting either. I realised that most part of this jungle where we live is full of non- living beings; trees, grass, stone and others. What difference would it make to them even if i cease to exist? They won't remember me; for if i was a thief, or if i was a good doer. I feel less and less interested in this world and its misery. Somehow, i feel i'm trapped in this black feathered body for no reason, and that my life is without any."

The furry tailed listened to the logic of his friend, "friend, i don't have any idea what you are telling, as i have a family and had no time to wonder about it. What you exclaim could or could not be true. Why don't we go to the wise donkey?"

"The one who lives on the leeward side of the hummock? Do you think he can abate my perplexity?", asked the feathered animal. The squirrel nodded and they started to the cave where the hermit donkey lived. The squirrel was hopping and running, while the bird flew just above the trees.

The old donkey saw two creatures coming to his cave. He saw them tired, so he asked them to sit and have some water in the bowl. "What are you seeking?", asked the donkey.

The twitter and the squeaks told him of the problem they were facing. The donkey listened to them, and went into deep thoughts, his head buried deep into his chest.

Finally, with a hum, he said- "I think i can explain this,", turning to the cuckoo, he continued, "How is your schedule?".

The cuckoo- "Eating any fruit which i can see near to the tree, doesn't matter which one, as i don't have any choice in eatin-"

"So you don't go out to find fresh fruits, it is what i assume"

"what is the need as long as i'm getting something near my abode?"

"Make it a point to do so. and in rest of your times, you can, for a starting, teach the squirrel's children how to sing. And get a family for yourself. This is the medicine which you need."

Said cuckoo- "come on friend, let's go."
"you continue, and i'd catch you up soon. I have my own doubts to get cleared."

"okay, see you later", said cuckoo and flew away.

"I want to know the root of his problem", asked the squirrel when cuckoo was not in sight.

The donkey replied- "His problem is his laziness. The reason of his disinterest is not that he's enlightened, but his degenerated self worth. Whenever we work and consummate it, we send ourselves a signal of achievement. This contributes to our self worth. Since you are always doing your work, so this is why you had never fallen prey to ennui and disillusion. He is true that world is largely made up of non- living things which won't bother who we are, even we are alive, and there is actually no eternal meaning to life; but think of the quality of life, as we all are sensitive to emotions. I believe i've resolved your query."
The squirrel, now a bit wiser, nodded.

The cuckoo and the squirrel lived happily ever after on the same banyan tree.

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Post- Script: When the monkey living on the next tree heard of this point from squirrel he remarked- "oh! and I was thinking it wasn't his mating season; was almost about to suggest him to go to hibernation so that i would rest in peace."

Disgruntled

2010-01-05T16:27:00.005+05:30

Achtung: Long Post

Dear Yash Dada ji, Hirani Uncle, and Karan Bhaiya,

First of all, Happy new year to you, your near and dear ones, and wish to the almighty that he gives you enough brains to craft originals.

It is almost always asked to me if i watched Munnabhai 3 [er- 3 idiots, i mean] and when i say no, people are shocked that a movie buff like me, who doesn't even leave C grade potboilers, missed 3 idiots. I almost passively explain them the reason, which i feel, i should discuss with you too.

To Yash Dada ji/ Karan Bhaiya:
It is always nice to see your style of film making. It is flamboyant, classy looks, and high on glam quotient, with expenses of the order of 8th power of 10 Rupees. It is fun to go into a wonderland, all right, but apart from your favourite character Raj/ Rahul [whose "naam to suna hi hoga", have heard it million times] i also find your stories to be similar. Frightfully, my IQ is not so high that i can make out the difference amongst the stories. I am also unable to understand your fixation with Punjabi Culture.

The silver lining of the cloud is that your stories and Raj/ Rahul are so generic that even if they were Software Engineers of Infosys, or peons of Bihar Government, or an irrigation engineer, they would not hamper the core concepts by even a hair. The story remains as irritating as it was.

For Hirani Uncle:
Pranam Uncle,
Hope you and Bhagat Sir are doing fine together. Your video of wishing Bhagat sir new year on you tube was heartwarming, to say the least. Both of you are saying the same thing- Watch the movie and read the book, ultimately boosting the sales of movie, though you have denied it vehemently every time, and the hard cover edition of 5 point someone. I being a 6 point somebody know IIT life better than to watch or read epics on this, the epics being far less diluted than the beauty and simplicity of that life.
However, I'm glad that you successfully served the "misfit- in- the- system- wins- with- humility- and- not- aggressiveness" formula 3 times now, and i would request you to progress further, leaving this issue [i'm sure you know there are many, if you watch English movies].

I, due to the above few reasons, have stopped going to the theatre, as i feel cheated everytime i watch the movies. Picture this- I'm being offered a gift wrapped box, for some amount. The money I'm paying is being counted and assured is not counterfeit. But i don't know what is inside the box. It is always projected as a cheese cake [as i find it too rich to eat, you may read any other cake you find rich] to me, and when i open it, mostly i find a stale bread tens of years old. Another example, In olden days, people used to often cheat by selling a cat in a bag by claiming it to be filled with a swine, and took away the money. When gullible people, on reaching home used to open the bag, they used to find a cat jumping out, rather than a piglet. It thus became an adage "The cat is out of the bag". I've been conned like this many a time, and since i don't want to be conned again, so i advocate piracy of music and movies.

Please get my message clear- I would spend my hard earned cash only if you make genuine movies, with genuine music. If I find it to be a repetition, or a rip off, I'd prefer to watch it on pirated movie. Since it is not your imagination, so you need not be paid for it.

Then what about the money you spend in producing it? Well dear sirs, I'm not responsible for your quirks. You may spend all your fortune on a second hand idea, and i'm not buying it.

I watched Kaminey twice in theatre, and went on to buy its original, because I liked the originality of the script.

Wish you a productive new year,
Regards,
Nimesh

PS: Kindly let know of this issue to Santoshi Uncle [with a good- keeps- mum- till- interval- and- finally- wins- over- evil- with- a- bang idea too state to have fermented] and Madhur Uncle [who has always tried to make good documentaries all right, but he should release them on Doordarshan's national network]

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Further Notes: Movie making for Dummies:
Raj Kumar Santoshi Pattern of Radical Rebellion Thoughts: The main protagonist lives happily, until he/ she sees things happening to a poor person. He/ she sees and is with truth. But not very strong. The dark side forces pressurize him to buckle, and they buckle. Half the movie, some event happens, some other protagonist and then the main protagonist stands tall. they rise from ashes, and beat the pulp out of the baddies, and climax- satya mev jayate.

Examples: Damini, ghayal, ghatak and Halla Bol.

Madhur Bhandarkar Pattern of Improving Work Ethics: The people in certain profession are shown to be sad and suffering. Entry our main protagonist. Some incidence happens to put him in picture, and then story moves. The hero/ heroine gets deeply involved into the ethical issues of the problem, at the work place, and is shown to be a misfit, finally receiving the thrashing by the system. He leaves, and finally returns [optional] back to the system, to be declared as a winner.

Examples: corporate, page 3, fashion, jail, etc

Raj Kumar Hirani Pattern of Cute Ethics: The central character is always a mint fresh cute guy with a heart of gold, with the system being strict, ruthless, and following stringent rules, rather than ethics. The hero changes the system by his jadoo ki jhappi/ gandhigiri/ whatever heart warming, sentimental, and non violent techniques. The ethics lacking guy is Boman Irani, that's a constant.

Examples: Munnabhai MBBS, Lage raho Munnabhai, Munna- i mean- 3 idiots.

Suraj Barjatya Pattern of Gharelu Love/ marriage: Put in animals, even digitized animals [reference: Hum Saath Saath Hain, the Parakeet] will do. Put in a big joint family. Add an antakshari. Add Alok Nath as a weeping baap. Include good dose of Prem, the hero. Add situations pushing hero and heroine together in a corner, so that romance develops. Take test of that love. Resolve test by external help of either the servants or the the beasts. Marriage.

Examples: Maine Pyar Kiya, Hum aapke hain koun, Vivah, ek Vivah aisa bhi, main prem ki diwani hoon.

Johar Chopra Pattern of Annoyance: Suck as much as you can, because the same source of blood and emotion, that is the human won't come back. Johar portrays Rahul as a feminine man, and Chopra portrays the situation with a romantic filter put in his camera. Both suck our blood. Examples: Find them yourself, please.

Dissecting Sholay

2009-09-26T14:30:00.005+05:30

I was born after Sholay, and a movie buff that I am, I was the last to see this magnum opus in my generation. It wasn't because I hated it, but because I was busy watching all those movies which went unnoticed (on a humanitarian ground, so that their viewership should be a non- zero positive integer). Because of my staple diet consisting mainly of B- grade movies (it's not that i like them, just that they are quite too much in abundance, just like members of class Arthropoda), this movie seemed grand in all respects, and it continued to intrigue me hitherto, when it dawned upon me why it was, the way it was.

Originally, the makers of Sholay wanted Danny to play the arch- villain Gabbar Singh, and they were thinking about putting Hema Malini opposite to Sanjeev Kumar. Although Danny has a grave and heavy timbre, would that be sufficient to make Gabbar a legend?
In order to understand why Sholay was a hit, it is necessary to fully analyse the mechanism of Masala, a sub- genre of Drama. Drama movies rely mostly on the intensities of emotional deliveries of characters involved. Mostly, the emotions go to extreme, regarding some incidence, and the narration of that incidence would often highlight the effects more than the cause. The subtle is the ignorance of the cause, the better the effect on audience. Masala, also in particular depends heavily on co- incidences. In purely mathematical terms, the smaller is the probability of an event, the better it makes Masala. The unbelievability of content is the gist of a class such as this.
The story line of Sholay is a mix and match of all kinds of probabilities- The very same thugs being employed by Thakur to eradicate a cruel and cunning dacoit, who saved him earlier, and both of them falling in love with the ladies of that village. Having a single bullet left and the bomb on the wooden bridge, and respecting the nuances of Indian cinema that a person dies only after delivering a complete dialogue, the movie is abundant of such incidences as well as columns of this infrastructure.
Real success of a film is not in the moolah it rakes at the box office, but how larger than life its characters become. Be it Mogambo, or Clint Eastwood's portrayal of a cowboy on a Texan soil, or the Gabbar Singh. It is quite difficult to imagine Gabbar without Amjad Khan's voice, but when I do it with Danny's voice, I find it to be equal to numerous other menacing dacoits portrayed in the course of Indian Cinema. The reason what makes Gabbar dreadfully menacing is the way he delivered. It was the silence before his dialogue began, and ample resting time between words to stress their pressure on our ears, and expectation of the crescendo, which his voice would reach, created a tension in the air. It can be paralleled to a piece of symphony, in which, all the orchestra stops at a point, takes a split second "rest" and then the mildest of the instruments start the tune, and very soon, the instruments keep on joining, increasing the tempo like a boulder rolling off a hill, gaining momentum, and finally crashing with a loud bang. Followed by a silence. May be perhaps you can hear your own breath when orchestra concludes, or, in our case, the blowing wind., with a minimal haunting music. If you take this out of Gabbar, the legend falls to Dr. Dang of Karma- and Sholay collapses into a regular masala flick.

The second significant point I find is about the characters. A masala movie requires that all the characters should be of different emotional domains, so we have a lot of characters, big, and small, like strokes in a big landscape, with the incomplete statements analogous to the half shaded image often describes its own boundaries. Imam Saheb, played to the perfection by A.K Hangal, was one such stroke, so was Sachin Pilgaonkar as his silent son, or the flamboyant Basanti with her dialogues, or the mystifying Radha, the ever silent daughter in law of Thakur, whose behaviourial dialogues were like the sciography of expressions hidden in various shades of melancholy. Any of these characters can be removed, and the basic story remains the same, but less than grand.

A good story teller never spends too much of time narrating the same sequence. A good director, similarly, keeps the audience's moods varying from light to deep and vice versa, always hitting them with his best shot in every reel, but never letting them delve deep into it. As a result, the person is always left with a want to come back to the previous scene. This emotional overload works, and Salim and Javed duo made sure they never kept people busy in one setup for more than five minutes.

The music, in concordance with the Indian values of movies, were a necessity, and good music at a right point always strikes pay dirt. And the lack of it intensifies a scene- again an orchestra- rest- crescendo effect.

Sholay was highlighted as the first 70 mm grand screen cinema, which was a specialty, simply on technical grounds. So whenever I remember the poster of Sholay, 70 mm comes to my mind next. It was as if a tag line. It was also a fact that Sholay was the first film in Indian Films' history to have completed 5 years in a theatre, from 1975 to 1980, which made it a legend that I was the last to see in my generation.
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Post script:
Gabbar (in a languid U.P. tone, with a menacing look towards the three "stooges"): "Are o Sambha, kitna inaam rakhe hain sarkar humpar?", with a single haunting tune.

The Love Marriage

2009-09-05T03:30:00.006+05:30

The top floor of B- Block, known as B- Top, was where Samy, the ever excited guy lived. Though the wingies didn't participate much in co- curriculars, but their extra curricular activities included chatting on some chat messenger, robotics, distributing their knowledge about the world, or, fooling each other by posing as "damsels in distress" in chat rooms, especially the last one. "The Enlightened one" of the wing was Siddharth or Sid, who would often emerge from his room, fixing his ever slipping spects, and then would call everyone out. Usually, things would start from movies, and then he would pick one issue on his sweet will. Often, this Gyan session would last a couple of hours, and then everyone would conclude it in the dining hall having some evening snacks.
That day, it was raining cats and dogs, and Sid, like always was broadcasting seeds of his fertile brain, with people listening to him. Suddenly, someone asked, "Where's Khujli?"
Khujli was the incessantly itching guy of the wing. The legend said that his favourite pastime was that he was seen itching at any given time T. If not itchy himself, he'd itch his neighbor. Once the guest speaker in architecture department showed in a slide how the dampness spoiled the plaster of the column, and someone shouted, "Looks like a misdeed of Khujli!" and everyone in the row next and before burst out laughing. This day, Taklu was missing Khujli's presence.
It was impossible for Sid to not know where Khujli was. He pushed the bridge of his slipping spects and said in a know- it- all tone, "Do you guys wanna know where he is?"
Samy, the short, ever jumping guy said, "Ab batayega!" (meaning: cut it dude, lay it on me). Sid, clearing his throat announced, "When i was coming from institute, I saw him in Harry's, feeding rasgullas to his sister Padmini".
Padmini was a girl who studied in Samy's batch. Khujli and Padmini met in IIT, and soon a brotherly- sisterly bond developed between them, was what Khujli's wingies knew it from him. So now that Sid had seen him feeding Rasgullas to Padmini, the whole of the wing roared into laughter, with Samy taking a full fledged lead in it. It was snacks time, and these guys, started towards dining hall, saving themselves from the splashes of rainwater coming in the corridor.

That night, Samy's sleep was rudely disturbed by a loud bang on his door. Someone had apparently kicked on his door. It was Khujli, who was back and he was furious.
Samy opened the door. Khujli thundered, "Rascal! You joked about me and Padmini!!"
Samy replied, almost awake by now, "It wasn't me! It was Sid..."
"It was you, Taklu told me!"
"I'm telling you now, it was Sid, go and talk to him" and Samy went back to sleep.
"Sid, come out! How dare you speak such nonsense about me and Padmini?" roared Khujli, a bit annoyed at his first miss of his thunder bolt.
Sid wasn't in the mood of opening the door, he said from inside, "It was Samy!"
Samy heard it. "Scoundrel!", he thought.
Bang! Khujli was kicking Samy's door, and Samy shouted in reply, "Ask if Sid wasn't the guy who told us about the masala story of you feeding rasgullas to Padmini!!".
Khujli kept on banging the doors of Sid and Samy, and they kept on passing the buck to each other. Soon, annoyance gave way to frustration (which was the default behaviour of dwellers of Institute of Indian Technology). Khujli could not avenge for the story which some scoundrel leaked. It was true that he was feeding rasgulla to Padmini, but didn't he ever told these crass creatures that she had tied him a rakhi, and fed him rasgulla then? In anger and frustration, he declared that his wingies were being cheap, and that Padmini was his sister.

Venting your anger often leads to sadness. That's what happened to Khujli. He was saddened by the sorry thinking of these jerks who never gave a thought to their banters, and he retired in his room.
For the next fortnight, he didn't talk to his wingies.
Time heals. Soon, they all filled up the gap, and he started to mix with them, and everything else was back on routine.

Five years later, Samy called me up. His ever excited voice told me "Do you know, Khujli is getting married?". "With whom?", I asked, with an anticipation mounting. "Guess?", he said.
A brief silence, and after that, we both burst out laughing.

Samy continued, "Taklu commented on the group, with just one line- Kya zamana aa gaya hai!" (English: Times have changed!). We both laughed.
I said, "History repeats!"
He said, "Means?"
"Don't you remember people with similar names- Padmini of Chittor, and Khilji, the sultan of Delhi?" I replied, and we both burst into fits of laughter.

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Glossary:
Harry's: A small eatery which was near to Tata Sports Complex, our favourite pastime joint.
Taklu: A happy go lucky bald guy.
Samy: A genius in disguise, to whom this author is thankful for the inputs.
Sid: the know it all of the wing "B- Top".
rasgulla: an Indian sweet made of cottage cheese, the sweetness of which got added to this memoir.

Vengeance: Concluding Chapter

2009-08-28T15:36:00.004+05:30

2 months ago, Sri remembered, it was Chitrangada's turn to publish the weekly journal, but the key of the main notice board lied with Vir.
Vir had told Sri that he was leaving for the town to buy some important things, and the things were not very important, so she need not come along with him. Somehow, the day had been quite hectic, keeping Sri busy all the way. Thankfully, Enya too had some work in lab, some register she had to make for the lab tomorrow. She wanted to relax today, and the whole room was for her, she was all in luck!
She remembered quite late that it was Chitra's turn, and she had to deliver her the key. She called Chitra from her room, and she sounded worried about tomorrow's issue. Chitra was cool as usual, she said- "Dun worry kid! I got the key from Vir 5 minutes ago! He came and gave it to me."
It was surprising that Vir didn't go to town. Well, he too might have been busy.

Sri would often help Vir to do his assignments, and she would take care for him, thinking twice so as not to do anything which might hurt him. She was a bit more sensitive than him, so she would often try to understand him. Vir would seem to be a bit worried about something, that's why he would often remain reserved, and for few months, he wasn't able to focus on his studies, so Sri made it a point to be of his help.

Yesterday, Vir had come to her, and asked her if she could draw the final of his plans, elevations and sections? It was very necessary for him to visit the town, as his aunt lived there who was serious and it was urgent for him to go. The assignment was also necessary to be submitted, as it was final assignment, and he feared it would be impossible for him to submit it tomorrow.
Sri smiled and said "She'd be all right, don't worry. I'd do the needful".
Next day morning, Chitra came running to Sri, she was pretty excited. "Hey Sri, Did you know, Vir got expelled!" Sri was struck by a bolt! "What? how?"
"come to the HOD's chamber. He's waiting for you. He asked me to locate you and send you there".
With weak knees, she went in the chamber, laden with grim air around her. The whole batch, class of '09 was present there. Vir was standing in the corner, red faced. Perhaps, he had cried. She could see him sweat in the air conditioned chamber.
The Head of the Department asked her in a calm, but serious tone, "Are you aware that Vir had copied your Design assignment? apart from the previous few assignments of detailings and Building Construction Techniques?"
"huh? No Sir! Was he?", she replied, wide eyed.
"Yes, I had already got the reports that he had been copying details from Chitrangada's sheets. Since he has failed in more than 2 subjects in a semester, he is not eligible to carry his studies in this premier institute. It is imperative for you all now to keep your sheets in locks from now onwards. You all may go."
She was the last to leave, and as she closed the door, she could hear Vir pleading the HOD to give him another chance, but she knew it was impossible, HOD was too strict to budge.
She calmed her sudden excitement, and came back to her room, at the end of the day.
Her room mate Enya was sad, apparently her day too had been bad. Sri held her by shoulders. Enya turned and looked at her. She was crying.
Sri asked, "What happened?"
"nothing"
"You sure, baby?"
"Yeah, I'm. Just one bad day won't hurt, right? It's some experiment gone bad..."

Later that night, Chitra came to Sri's room.
"Everything okay Chitra?"
"Yep. Is Enya asleep?"
"yes, she just slept, can you ask me whatever it is, on a stroll?"
"Sure".
On their way on a big 2.2 km long circuit, Chitra initiated the talk.
"Just wanted to ask you something- you orchestrated this whole scandal, didn't you?"
"What leads you to think of this?"
"My locker has number lock. The key to that lock is known to you and Vir only. Vir is not that a fool to copy it blatantly. You know, he always introduces a twist in something original."
Sri recalled the day about a month ago, when she was crying in the room, and there was no one to support her.
Chitra had told her that she had seen Enya and Vir strolling late night in the institute, when she had been to the department to change the Wall magazine in the noticeboard. They hadn't seen her.
Sri had been thinking of an adage "When faith becomes blind it dies". How was it, that she couldn't get the point of Enya asking her about trust and faith? Wasn't it the same day Vir told her that he was going to the town? Sri first didn't believe this whole thing. Seeing is believing. She started digging into the emails, and saw only one email of Enya to Vir, appreciating how smart and intelligent he was, with a reply of thanks from Vir. She cried the whole day.
She realised then that faith in a relation is like a principal sum in bank. It accumulates slowly, and steadily. It can not be given to someone in a lumpsum. It is more related to actions in the past, not the feelings.
She composed herself, and came back to her room, still undecided whether to let them go, or to avenge. She was convinced that she was cheated, and her right was denied. So Vir deserved an apt return gift .
Why did Enya hint her about her feelings then? May be it's completely human to hint their own actions in advance, which might satisfy their emotions. Anyways, it was foolish of her.

Next day, when Enya opened her eyes, she saw Sri smiling, "Good morning baby! How was your sleep?"
"Ummmmm... It was quite good, thanks!" Enya replied, stretching her hands.
"Water, in stagnation, rots. So should we move?" concluded Sri. Enya couldn't agree more.

Vengeance: part 1 of 2

2009-08-28T14:17:00.004+05:30

"Water, in stagnation, rots." concluded Sri. Enya couldn't agree more.

6 months ago, Sri and Enya were sitting in a theatre, watching movie, when she said, "Enya, how do you like Vir?". Enya giggled, and said "Assure me I would live after I said I liked him!". Both of them had to be shooed into silence by the audience who were more interested in the movie, than in their heart to heart banter. They made faces, and started watching the movie.

Vir studied in the same section as Sri, and Sri, being the "master architect" was the pet of all the professors. It looked as if she just was revising the whole architecture course. Sciography, drawings, illumination engineering, waste water management, all the courses were at her tips. Often one would see her laughing and giggling around with Enya, her room mate, who was from electronics.
Because Sri also was good in mathematics, so Enya started to harness her ability into understanding the equations which required high degree of knowledge of calculus. Analog Circuits was her nightmare, and it suddenly became easy when Sri started dissecting the formulas. There was now no need to mug up. Soon their friendship grew beyond buck converters and Universal Serial Bus protocols and they started to share their small worlds with each other.
Enya often wondered how was it that Sri always had some time at her disposal, when all her batchmates would slog for hours and hours on the very same assignment. Sri preferred to keep the suspence with her smile. Often she would fill her cigarette with weed, as she would sit with the A0 sized sheet on her drawing board, and she would design everything with a single stroke. No need to draw the rough. She knew her hands, and her hands knew what she was upto. Six hours flat and she'd be done with it.

The second semester from January demanded she should do more courses from architecture than the common curriculum, so she started to take note of people who were in her department. And as the second sem started, the seniors started their regular drama of orientation periods, and extra- curricular activities. It was there, she had first noticed Vir. He would often be present in the Thursday's evening club (organised by the budding architects of the department).

Often, she'd find him in the library too, or in the canteen near the main gate of institute. Three months later, she was competing for the post of Journal secretary, when she found her team (for the doing the ground work) of the post also comprised of Vir, Rekha and Chitrangada.
Working for the post- printing arrangements, the 4 would often go for a night- out, and there would be long sessions of tea, which would be often taken care by Vir. The ideas were mainly of Sri, but Vir would often give a twist in them, making them even more interesting. The sheer brilliance versus the creativity would often make an interesting competition, and whence, they started to have an inclination towards each other.

They even exchanged their passwords of email IDs. Sri's self would never allow her to accept it in front of Vir that she often read his mails, for curiosity's sake. But soon she gave up checking into his account, as her own self would not permit it.

Vir was tall, fair, and his gait was free. Nothing bounded him, ever smiling. Sri often mentioned him with Enya, How the discussions on the ideology of Meis Van der Rohe went, and how charming but difficult was the life of Frank Lloyd Wright, and Enya was no fool to let it go unnoticed.

So, it was after the theatre, Sri decided that she, Vir and Enya would have a small get together. As Enya too wanted to meet him. He sounded interesting to her.

Next day, Vir, Sri, and Enya sat in the coffee bar, and were discussing things, Vir was sitting almost straight, Sri, leaning on his support, with her head on his shoulder and Enya in front of them. They chatted for some 2-3 hours, and thanks to Vir's smooth talking the time warped, and it never felt that long, had not the position of sun been a measure of time too. Vir wanted to become a good architect, and how he had been struggling for the rank in this institute, and some funny stories of his tuitions were quite funny to pay heed to.

That night, as Sri came back at eleven, switched off the light and fell on bed. The creaking bed announced her presence, and Enya asked her "Are you still awake?". Sri said "Yeah" with a sigh. "how did you like him?", Sri asked.
"How much do you trust him?" Enya questioned her in response.
"I love him a lot! Isn't it sufficient?" Sri fell asleep, getting oblivious to the next question of Enya.

... next part concludes

Circus

2009-08-26T15:22:00.004+05:30

In the jungle of Institute of Indian Technologies, there existed two crazy students, with particularly varying interests. The Monkey was a detailed thinker, mostly residing in his own theme, and rarely peeking out to see what the world was doing. He'd get a screenshot of the current state of world, and will quickly recreate in his brains what must have happened, and then he would quietly get absorbed in his thinking. The Donkey was the one who was always on the roll when it came to foreign policies, polity, politics, and bureaucracy. He would always have a conclusion ready on the weirdest of the patterns and he would often extrapolate them to predict what the future held.

Two years later, both of them passed and joined the beautiful world outside. Their job description was the same. Only that satisfaction level was different. They would often meet and The Donkey would often narrate interesting affairs surrounding, or may be they would discuss the ideas of various people.
One day, while roaming, The Donkey mentioned a famous quote, "The god is a performer, performing before an audience too afraid to laugh". "Don't we remember something about an audi, performance, stage, and we all being characters?" The Monkey thought. Strolling in the great market place, the two friends were discussing this. The Donkey continued, "The Penguins at a far-away-land Antarctica often feel hungry at a time when there are too many fish in the sea. They dive to dine, and before doing that, wish each other bon appetit. The sharks too feel hungry at the same time, and they too wish each other bon appetit, and then hunt the penguins! Look at the comedy- they both feel hungry at the same time!!". Seeing the facial expressions of the Monkey, Donkey suggested another example- "The newly born birds which live near ponds often take their first flight after a few days of hatching. The comedy is that if they crash during their first flight, they often fall in the open mouths of crocs and other animals waiting for them. They become the feast of these animals in the first flight itself!", continued Donkey, " If you call it a comedy, it's a grim one".
"Take a third example- In Sundarbans, the jungle is so dense that humans often prefer to live near the shore of delta. The water level often varies markedly during the whole day, and there live piscivorous tigers, who drink that saline water. These tigers, often known as Royal Bengal Tigers are the smart and aggressive cousins of other indian tigers. They are big, and they are bad, they know their footsteps, and they will hunt humans, whenever they can. It is virtually possible to go deep inside the forest." Having laid a proper foundation, the Donkey took a deep breath, and continued "Now, the fun part is that honey bees also make their combs in the deep forest. The combs often are huge. Now, humans have to go inside to harvest honey from the bees, where their predator awaits!".
The examples started a train of thoughts in Monkey. So far, he believed world is an auditorium, and the god is the only audience. Now there is an opposite theory, the god is a performer, and we all, observers. How can it be? It seems like the trees are moving in a direction anti parallel, when we move.
To interconnect both the perspectives, we can shift our own. Imagine the world is a circus, with everyone being a performer, and god being the ring master. May be he's more than a ring master, he may be an organiser, who has put a constraint, a starting condition, continuing conditions for the act, and a terminating condition. The performers in circus are all acrobats, so they can not see their own moves, but can witness how the tight rope walker is performing, and how good the tigers are doing ball with the humans, etcetera. Now, we can safely say the god is performing, we too are performers, and yet, we don't dare laugh, because we are walking on tight rope ourselves. We laugh, we fall. Only if we are too busy to watch others than noticing our own steps on the tight rope.
Special Mentions: Chaitanya Vardhan for his inputs, Voltaire and Shakespeare for sharing their piece of perspectives, God- his circus is interesting.

Singing on a Lower Pitch

2009-08-23T12:39:00.002+05:30

The Dog was lurking in the dark alleys of internet, and by chance, he ended up sniffing few write ups in a blog filed under the title "rant". The article writer definitely wanted to be heard, and she was being heard, with comments on her blog being double of The Dog's own. What caught again The Dog's sniffer nose was the unusual intensity of the word "rant". Technically barking- rant would mean too much of violence or extravagant, as would be the context when the word was used when it shouldn't have been. Everything was perfectly under control, with no emotion being out of control, as the label would claim, observed the beast. He had encountered a similar observation not so long ago, may be half a decade ago.

The Dog wanted to go for higher studies, for which he wanted to write a cover letter, shamelessly mentioning why he fitted that university, in a land far far away. He was genuinely interested in the subject and wanted to make it his career, and hence, to show his keen curiousity, he chose words he deemed fit to design the application. A wise and kind man lived next to him, who would often help him diagnose his inner self. The wise man perused through his application, looked up to the animal, and said "Everything you wrote is the truth, but your know, there is a problem. I call that problem overexpressing an emotion, for example- instead of "highly interested" may be you could have suggested some of your acts which depicted the same."

The Dog was gifted, actually, compensated to understand the human languages, for; he was unable to comprehend much of human emotions. He would never understand the rising or the falling graph of emotions, or understand the unsaid, so he would often tilt his head to one side, and stare wide- eyed, with a bewildered expression at men and women, who would often dramatise and romanticise the events.

Why did people often do that? His own kinds knew only a few notes to sing the famous lyrics of Baha men song "who let the dogs out". They were never dramatic, in fact, most of the animals, unless it was the mating season.

The only reason, The Dog, understood was that people often had a sense of awareness, which allowed them to realise they existed. The self also had an extension, which The Dog felt was vestige, known as ego. This part of self (illogically, but successfully) tried to convince the self that the being was a unique individual, with no one as special as him. This would often make him feel cherished, and would make him want more. The more meant even more, when it came to fame.

The fame rhymes with the word name, observed The Dog. That too wasn't without a reason (though that very same reason, however, didn't follow with shame, dame, game, blame, etc). The ego or the sense of self, allowed the humans to associate themselves with words which they thought were unique for them. If someone uttered that word, they would respond, as if someone had nudged them.

[Agreed, my family didn't have names, and we used to understand how to hunt a mouse or a poor small animal in packs, and everyone developed his own sense of responsibility in the team, by the games we often played in our childhood. But humans named everything, even their homes, cars, and pets, including me. I responded to them, because everytime i responded, I was given my favourite bone to suck, or a juicy piece of mutton. The reward is a big motivator.]

So, when humans name is called, they feel elated a bit, and this gives them a sense of being wanted by the person calling the word, that is, what they call name. If a lot many people would call their name, it would be a transaction in which the input is too overwhelming. To make people call your name, you need to be different, you needed to be dramatic, guesses The Dog. May be, you needed to be special, hence the usage of the word "rant" in the title of the article, when it wasn't necessary, to dramatise a simple event.

Humans, are the descendents of the great Ape family, and hence, they believe in copying what they find attractive. As a result, now The Dog finds all the world being dramatic in a way or the other. May be, for a change, letting the actions communicate would keep things simple, and clean. It may sound boring at first, but the closer look would reveal that since the things are easily understood, so it would greatly increase the pace of the work, and speed is more fun, The Dog guesses that's what the wise and kind man meant.

The Truth

2009-08-10T08:27:00.005+05:30

Rakesh, or anyone would never know what the truth may be. It might be that his guesses [and the (wrong) guesses about the character] would be correct upto a pin point, or, it is highly unlikely that Ambuj must have turned so violent, or it may be that we all are in a Matrix, to begin with, with Ambuj in his capsule sleeping several miles away from me.

Ambuj was a simple day to day architecture student, carrying such big T-squares, like Rambo's sword on his back, and eyeing other girls in the professor's class, which by any standard provided him better entertainment than the lectures, which he anyway could not listen to- not due the substandard content delivery, but the content acceptance device malfunctioning.

We all felt we all knew he had a problem in his left ear. He would often nod vigorously if someone came to him, and muttered something feebly about the professor being a dimwit, and he would somehow stretch his audio capabilities to extract the information about the professor's name, and the word synonymous to dimwit, say Idiot. As a next step, he would often shout loud professor's name, and idoit simultaneously, so that the original speaker would wish somehow a bush would grow and he could hide himself there, when the prof would turn back and see Ambuj still trying to make out the correct meaning from these two words. Rakesh always sensed something was wrong in that part of Ambuj's brain where he had no circuitry developed dedicated to audio functions. He narrated it to me once- You know what happened! Ambuj kept his mobile facedown, and was chatting with me, and suddenly a truck honked somewhere far off, and he jumped and grabbed his phone shouting "wait! my cell is ringing!".

Recently, Ambuj had been trying to increase his optical power from 5 to 6 so that he could undergo some "Leejig" operation.

Having established the premises of my experiment, I decided once, on an Architectural Tour, in december, that I would try to test his logical skills as well, in my very subtle way, and this story revolves around that pivot.

That fateful day, we all went to study the design of Rajmahal theatre in Jaipur, and it was a grand theatre, with stairs running from both the sides, and every inch squared of the floor carpetted (i profess, i do not remember more than this about the architectural details there). The movie which we were seeing [so as to understand the architecture better] was a typical bad indian flick. Ambuj was sitting on the right side of me, paying his every bit of attention to the dramatic sequences unfolding, that hero was ailing from cancer, with his doctor being misinterpreted as his wife by the heroine. On my left side was sitting a junior of mine, let's call him Ramesh for name's sake. Sitting between these two guys, I was forced to enjoy the movie though I had undergone the torture the last week in Chandigarh's Piccadelli Theatre.

Out of blue, Ramesh passed a drawing book, which contained the horrible sketches Ambuj had, and asked me to pass it to Ambuj. This was a perfect opportunity to administer the experiment, with Ambuj as a lab chimpanzee, and observe how Ambuj would react, given that he was engrossed in some extravagant flow of emotions, with his left (faulty) microphone towards me. So, I told him to pass the notebook to Ambuj, deliberately using his own name, than simply shoving that notebook in his lap.

Usually, animals have a sense of self, which in some cases they assosiate it partially with their names, I guess this might be a reason, why people respond when we call their names, but as infants, we were never formally told what our names were, we just started to follow it somehow.

With all his remaining faculties channelised towards the silver screen, Ambuj took his own drawing book, and passed it on to his right, without any instructions, and the notebook kept on travelling till the far end, where Hasita noticed that it was Ambuj, her apparent suitor, whom she ignored, was the owner of his notebook. With Hasita's voice calling his name, Ambuj suddenly woke up from his trance, where may be he was the hero, going for the sacrifice for the country. He quickly realised his mistake, and shouted at me- why didn't you pass it to me? I replied- I passed it to you, with instructions to pass it on to yourself, why didn't you pay attention to me? In case you want to talk, talk to Ramesh. Now, finding a good reason, Ambuj almost verbally pounced on Ramesh, calling his names, and how he hailed from one of the worst places in Bihar, and what else can he do by bringing all the guns he had in his house, which his grand fathers used. Ramesh was quick to return the sentiments. Having no such history, he claimed that he knew how to make bombs and how he wouldn't hesitate to drop one on Ambuj's head, and given a chance, would certainly drop one on his native country.

With these two Biharis sitting besides me, flexing their muscles, I was having my own share of fun imagining the not- so- braveheart, thickly bespectacled Ambuj, fighting Ramesh, firing guns as big as him, and rusted to the core, with their wooden butts hollowed by termites, and Ramesh, with his pallid self hurling a granade, with swearings mutually returned. All of a sudden, with a tight slap, i came back to the reality.

Ambuj, in the semi- darkness, tried to hit his perpetrator who was keeping him from watching the film, and ended up slapping me. From a third person view, it was a mislanded slap, sending shivers to Ramesh, who found it worthwhile to flee from the scene.

It was not a long day afterwards: Rakesh suspects that it was another of my mischieveous plans to frame a poor harmless soul, like I did to butterflies, squirrels and other dogs and bitches whom I would lure with a bread and then shoo them away to derive a sadist pleasure. Another guy Swapnil, who all the way was sitting in the room, embellishing the whole scene with his guitar, and hiss- chik hiss- chik sound of drumming, as he produced from his mouth, made a mystery out of it, about whether Ambuj slapped me, as I claimed, or not, with his supposition that I was barking up the wrong tree. I spent the whole night shouting, swearing and fighting with Ambuj, and he, crouching in a corner, smiling obnoxiously.

Post Script: Recently while going to Tirupati temples, Ambuj accepted that he slapped me, as if it made some difference to me. But he was soon to deny of any such thing in the return journey. It was Rakesh's younger sister Alka, whose justification I'd find worth mentioning: "I guess he was going to the almighty, so he didn't want to lie, but while returning, he was in his own good harmless self again!".

Disclaimer: Every soul mentioned here is a figment of imagination of the semi- lunatic author. Even if they are real, it is highly doubtful, like the slap which the author received.

Falsifying Murphy's Law

2009-04-19T21:53:00.004+05:30

"Anything that can possibly go wrong, does." -- Murphy's Law

Murphy's Law was not propounded by Murphy, it was Jack Sack who did it. Murphy just explained that in more than so many words. I was informed of this trivia about this law by one of my friends, in a book shop. He was complaining how the corporate world followed the Murphy's Law, one corollary of which he deduced was "whatever you don't know, will go bad at the right time". Like, he started telling me about a legacy circuitry block connected to a buck converter, and how it was drawing a huge current, which was affecting the Oscillatory circuit. "I didn't know anything about this circuitry, and you know, it was that one which went wrong, and i had to go around changing everything and then i realised it was this black box circuit which was the main villain" he explained the whole thing to me. Though i hadn't designed or studied about the buck converter, i realised it wasn't the circuit which is problematic, it was the superstition. Murphy's Law is as good as superstition, i hold this opinion. Let us try to understand the problem statement first, and then we can solve it by the root. Problem Statement: Anything that can possibly go wrong, does. What is wrong with this statement is that it is right! Everything human made is destructible, so everything is liable to go wrong. Consider the opposite statement "Anything which can never go wrong, works always fine", which is also true. How is it that the inverse statement is so important to us? Because it is imperical that whenever we try to open the bolt, we accidentally tighten it. This leads us to a very good mathematical question: "Given two ways A and B to move, what is the probability that we choose A?" and the engineering guys will pat give the answer "50% or 0.5". The answer means that if we randomly, without using our intelligence, choose one path, for a huge number of times, say 1 gogol times, then 50% of the times it would be path A, and rest of the times, it would be path B.

Two things are important here. One that human brain tends towards idiocy when left to itself (that after 3 million years of evolution) and thus without thinking, it can be 50% accurate. The second thing is- there is an agent who performs the task. if there is no one to walk, then no path is taken! Returning back to the bolt- opening- problem, if the agent (or the opener or the mechanic) does not notice the direction of the thread (idiot agent- so he introduces probabilistic model into otherwise a simple work issue), he can screw the bolt in any direction as his sweet will. Now if he twists the bolt in the opposite direction, the thread gets cut, and the machine breaks. Murphy's law is in action, he might say. But what about the other half of the probability? No one would notice anything wrong, because the machine is working all right. So Murphy's Law is defied half of the times which no one pays attention to, they only venerate murphy for his extraordinarily annoying law when things break, and count it as a 100%, which i find is injustice towards their knowledge of Probability. Let us take another example of Murphy's Law in action: The zip or chain or Handle of the luggage breaks whenever you are on journey. True, but how would it break if the suitcase is kept in some corner of your home? So naturally, it will break only when some agent works on it, and that happens only during journeys. Then why only during journeys, and why not when we are leaving or coming back, does the handles break? Again probability comes to the rescue. The total time of the journey is too long and hectic, if compared with the time spent leaving the home or coming back, so no one remembers Murphy uncle before the journey starts or it concludes. Having thought so much, the Donkey told his friend "Dude, i can not exemplify in terms of circuits, as i'm not trained in it, But since i'm adept at coding, i'll tell you my experience. Whenever I'm given a legacy code, i make sure there are no black box areas, so that i know what every line of the code is doing. Since i'm very clear in my working, so nothing goes wrong where it wasn't expected to, because i know where it will go wrong".

The Donkey never believed in Murphy and his pessimistic foolish law, and nor in probability, but he chose probability as a tool to defeat a bigger idiot, the Murphy's Law.

Pressing need

2009-04-03T14:26:00.001+05:30

In the jungles of gangatic planes lived a donkey, who was quite happy to have landed a job under a washerman's kind guidance. The job however required him to be posted to some jungle down south where there was no river, and the place was all new to him. He was new to the place and in his leisure, he would roll on the grass and wonder all sorts of philosophical things. Some of the things would be strange, while some would be crazy, and between these thoughts, a thought would lurk that he was growing older every passing day. There was nothing new in getting older, even the washerman too was growing older, and so was every other soul- no one grew younger in this world (except the curious case of Benjamin "Braid Pitt" Button). So our hero, the Donkey, realised that as the world grew older, the tend to rely more on the memories they accumulate, which is also known as memory, and less of their common sense.
This world was different from what he had left behind. There, everyone would be too happy to help him, and everything seemed like Alice in Wonderland, but here his solitude seemed to grow more on him. A respite was that he had to do all the chores of den by himself. This would take up some lonely time of his and he would be saved from the dreaded silence of his den. It could also be the hormones at the nubile age which made him feel that illusive silence, may be there was no silence at all!
This tomcat lived next him, and they knew each other from his previous life, when he was chased in the same jungle by a dog, and successfully eluded him, just to be squashed by the passing elephant who could not see it. These old buddies would sit somewhere at the end of the day, on a cliff, seeing the red ball going down, and the tomcat would often tell how the world treat the jennies. "It is either about the brains, or the beauty- nothing about memory. Do you think people would have acknowledged an elephant, had he got no size?". The idea was quite fascinating. People would see the jennies who lived next door admiringly, and donkey would think they were no better than his goldfish, which got fed and reared because it was beautiful. In those circumstances, donkey would wonder what good would the brain be, if there were less of memory? Could everything in this world be derived out of it, even most of the things which memory did?
This was the first office day, and Donkey had finished washing his allotted clothes, and the question was- how to get the clothes pressed, which he never had to do back in the jungles of Kgp? He wasn't interested in ironing them. It was too much of a work for his languid self. He remembered that there was a small bazaar behind his dwelling, where he could probably find a press wala. So hopeful that he would be saved from a lot of work, the donkey took his clothes, and started off to the bazaar. There he could find someone to outsource this work to.
In the bazaar, he found one of the shops was decorated with pitchers of egg plants. The egg plants were donkey's staple diet, so he felt a bit inclined to outsource the work to that animal, who was sitting there, ironing a mountain of clothes. That animal gave him an appointment of next day to take the ironed clothes. The donkey went away happily, wagging his tail.
Donkey forgot he had to collect the clothes, and he remembered it after a week. The deadline was not an issue, so he went to the eggplant shop and saw a Tasmanian Devil sitting there. Well, he didn't remember which animal he talked to last week, and as if it bothered him! He was more interested in the egg plants than the Tasmanian Devil.
Today the Tasmanian Devil looked younger. Donkey cleared his throat and reminded the young devil that he needed the clothes, and it was urgent. The devil junior sweeped his eyes and saw this irritating creature who just appeared from nowhere and was demanding his clothes back. The li'l devil tried to search for his clothes but couldn't find it. However, it was delaying his work. So he said, "You go today, bring tomorrow 5 morning". Donkey tried to explain him, "i don't bring clothes, you bring my clothes!". Devil - "my daddy bring tomorrow 5, you too bring tomorrow 5 morning, daddy give you clothes".
"Ah, so he wants to keep my clothes for another day! must have given those clothes on rent", thought donkey. He banged his hooves on the table and demanded that his clothes be given to him now.
"Ayyo! Sir, bring tomorrow, daddy too bring tomorrow, go now!".
"But i have a pressing need, i want those clothes now!!"
"Go away sir! bring tomorrow, daddy bring tomorrow also.. GO, sir!"
Donkey left the shop feeling humiliated.
Next morning, he came at 8 to the shop. He found that Daddy Devil was at the shop. the same question, and the same reply!
Suddenly the Tasmanian Devil Senior said, "there is another shop who does the ironing job, is it possible that you might have given your clothes there?"
Donkey was confused. He looked at those egg plants. They looked beautiful. Tasmanian Devil said "I think you should ask Javelina, the owner of the shop."
Donkey went to the shop and when the Javelina saw him, he readily recognised the bundle of clothes lying neatly creased in a corner.
It was then the donkey noticed, that shop too had egg plants decorated!

Story of Inventions: Part Rest of n

2009-01-04T14:20:00.000+05:30

The Invention of Orkut

Mr. Orkut Buyyukokten, the inventor is standing in front of the neanderthal audience, explaining on the multimedia projector, what is the idea behind his new site, they all are sitting around campfire, with a boar being barbequed.
Orkut: This is a new Website.
Ramu, The thick and pessimist co-worker: What does it do?
Orkut: It will help socialise people who have otherwise problems approaching others to talk.
Ramu: You mean approaching girls, right!
Orkut: I hate this planet. People almost always relate anything with girls! NO!!
Ramu: then what would be the use?
Orkut: People will make friends and send scraps to each other
Ramu: what is a scrap?
Orkut: A scrap is a message
Ramu: Is it? I thought mails were good enough!
Orkut: Look o naive Ramu! this thing is faster than mails, and you would never know who scrapped you until you open the orkut page, otherwise emails bug you in your messenger, as if it were the sole thing!
Ramu: then why is it that it's public?
Orkut: Dear Ramu, it's not! If you want, no one can see the scrap. It's totally upon you to decide who sees what!
Ramu: Oh lord Orkut! Pray explain then if people will keep everything private then how the hell would anyone socialise?
Orkut: erm... (takes a glass of water and gulps some)
Ramu:Another thing o great one! Are we copying from Facebook? It has a chat, we have a chat, it is a social networking site, we are the same, it has privacy features, we too have introduced it, like it's mail, we too have a mail, and same with applications as well...
Orkut: O innocent Ramu, we are not copying facebook, it's just a coincidence that we both share the same ideas! Look i've just now completed the module for chat which would enable various friends to chat, even if you didn't want them in your friends' list. see! (shows him a demo of this)
Ramu is awestruck. It's great, and also never demands for doughnuts!
Ramu: O noble one! I totally understood that Orkut is an original and a holy attempt to bind the world in a human chain, and that facebook is a cheap imitation! I bow before thou.

Some 5 milennia later, orkut became a great sensation in India, and most of the studious IIT guys can be found learning important stuff from it, collecting the pics of "babes" of their campus, in their computer labs.

noname.cpp - part 2 of 2: To C it from a diffrent view

2008-07-26T22:36:00.004+05:30

6 years have passed since the happiness lasted, sans the C language. I don't miss C at all, to think of it, C is not needed in what I do- the language is excruciating, I believe.

After 6 years, i was supposed to be in MS, but due to some funny reason, i was not, in fact, i was neither in MS, nor out of it, so I was made the TA in Programming and Data Structure (PDS) course. I had a small group of students to deal with, their lab tests, answer scripts and all the routine things.

She was a silent girl in the class, so i did not pay much attention to what she had to say about C. The girl never complained anything about the marks, nor about the assignment, as I used to be in my first year- aloof.

Time: 1500 Hrs

The end sems were nearing and in the regular lab, i was resolving someone's doubt, when i saw she raised her hand to ask some question. I saw the professor go to her..... The professor should know about how his subjects are doing.

Time: 1530 Hrs

The prof is still explaining things to her, and she is nodding her head, as if it were connected to her body by spring. I am attending this guy who is having trouble understanding the question

Time: 1600 Hrs:

I'm solving this girl's problem who is debating with me about something which she felt was correct. The professor is now himself coding, and the girl seems to be taking an active interest (the way she was looking at the monitor, trying to read the broken english of C, with all the unexpected brackets and semi- colon, which make it a bestial language, was too good).

Time: 1630 Hrs:

I was done solving the doubts, and was hearing to stories of a TA, when this prof came from behind the pillar. "Nimesh!", he called me. "She doesn't know anything about C!", said the prof in a very worried tone, as if it was he who had to give the exam! The prof was a very good man, worried about the well being of this soul... I replied "Yes Sir! why, i'd talk to her right now." I went to her. "You!" I pointed my finger to her, standing in front of her desk, looking sharply into her eyes, "You will meet me after class." She looked at me, with a fright -mixed-with-laid back- look, said "Yes sir!". After the class,i said to her "I'm noticing that your performance is consistently poor, and unless you put in some hard labor, you'd be in a soup. What do you have to say about it? Koi load to nahin hai? (translates to: any problems with this subject?)" She said in the same tone "No Sir!". "So you'd be coming to my lab to study till your end sems, is it all right?" I asked in an authoritative tone, and she could not refuse.

The week coming was going to be nothing short of a challenge to me, confronting C, the hidden fear. This girl turned up the next day, with one of her classmates, as she too was having a lot of problems in the same. So i started with them, a baby step at a time- C made easy by a dummy.

The week was nothing short of a test for me- a lots of stories about C, a solid punch for making silly errors, rewarding for a good thinking and finally, understanding the mind of a student, which i were a few months back. I realised teaching was not just about delivering the knowledge, it was also about making the whole subject interesting and leaving good impression on young minds, so rather than developing an aversion to the subject for the rest of their lives, they enjoy the experience. I was trying my level best to cock up new stories about C to explain the fundamentals in a simple, friendly and a dignified way. Time passed, and with the end of a week, both of them caught up to the essence of C. By the end of second week, i could teach them advanced topics in data structures.

Shilpa, though could not turn up for the last 2 days, which i learnt was because she had to mug up mechanics the last night before the Mech end sem! However, since the basic of C was already covered, and advanced topics could be derived from there, so i didn't have to worry about her. The other girl Shalu continued till the end sems.

In the end sems, i saw the grade sheets, Shalu had secured an A while Shilpa had secured a D, still better than me, who secured a mere P (a just passed grade), saving my tail with it.

It is how i encountered my fear for C, and returned the gift Raka once gave me, and my prof PK enriched with his inputs. I believe, we must return twice of whatever good we got to the needy, this is the best way to repay it, and i guess i did it.

noname.cpp - part 1 of 2

2008-07-26T18:29:00.007+05:30

Feels like an era has passed, and it has, when i have sesqui-tupled in age. It's a story when i was a lot younger, dumber, naive and a fresher. I was in first year, enrolled after a grueling session of studies and was in no mood to study any further. Just that I didn't get the branch and insti of my choice was enough an alibi to forgo classes... And a few words like "The subject is too boring to follow" were put in my mouth (yes, i still blame my friends for that, because i don't want to take the full load of charges...).

The subject was Introduction to Programming and Data Structures, and i was highly uninterested with the course the course was taking.
After missing a lot of classes this way, and getting some greater-than-zero single digit number (i guess it was the One, what else could i achieve with that infinitesimal knowledge about C, the computer language), i realised that a proxy attendance could be put so that i did not have to disturb my royal sleep to attend the classes. For this noble purpose, i asked Aman, the chinki, to sign the attendance sheet ma'm passed in class. He was a simple guy and it wasn't difficult for me to convince him for this.

One golden afternoon, when i was brushing my teeth and strolling in my wing, E- top, Aman came, and he looked flustered. I bid a "allo" to him, with the brush and froth filled in my mouth, and a dab overflowing from the side. I sucked it back inside with the help of tooth brush and asked him "How was the class?". "Ma'm took the attendance today!" he said, wiping sweat from his forehead, his face, red- "and i put up a sign on your behalf."
"Good boy!"
"... And then ma'm announced- There are some boys who are not regular in the classes, take for example , this guy Nimesh Priyodit, where is he- is he present today??". I was shocked with the sudden celebrity status i had recieved in the class, "Then?"

"To hell with your attendance, I had to stand up to cover you!" He said, " and the whole of the class was laughing their heads off that chinki is being thrashed by ma'm, and she was thinking she was shouting at Nimesh Priyodit all this while!!"
"What would have i done if she ever asked me for my ID?"
"You'd have simply told her that you didn't have it with you, what else!" I replied.

With the days passing in such mundane manner, came the night before end- sem. The night of survival, and the night of ultimate realisation that i should have studied for the semester than playing age of empires all day (such realisations then kept on coming twice a semester, one before mid- sems and another before end- sems). The survival instinct was down and i was lazing off in the bed, and told my best friend Raka- man "I'm thinking about the summer quarter in C". The summer quarter is sort of atonement and purification to the cursed souls who failed to perform in their subjects in the Institute of Indian Technology and had to spend their valuable summer in the nearby Hijli jail facing the torture of coal tar melting heat, and boring lectures of the wise ones.
"Why?"
"I dunno anything about C, just the declarations of the variables and the for loop. How would i ever pass this exam with this much knowledge!".
I was thinking of Swapnil, who had the habit of romanticising anything, and i never held him in high regards, and who had come to me earlier that day to offer me combined studies. Had i studied with him, i would have gained at least a small part of wisdom, but it was too late now.

Raka- man said, intervening my repenting train of thought- "Why would you ever fail! Let me teach you a few basics." And that night, starting from 2 O' clock, he kept on reciting C like Sunder Kand (from Ramayana) encompassing all the trees, forests, lists, linked lists, and whatever enigmas i felt about computer science. I kept on asking him about some terms i had gathered from the discussions from my wise neighbour Vamsi, who had me confused till now, and tonight i was being enlightened about the hidden meanings of those words. Prophecies like how a program would not give the desired result started dawning upon me, and by 4 O' clock, the whole show was over.

The exam started at 9 that day, i was not humming a song, for a change, and was attempting some question which i felt was at my level. It was a 5 mark question and i was excitedly solving it. I kept on encountering questions, in a random manner, and the three hours passed by. The only question i could not do was tree traversal, which Raka- man did not teach me,but i had no grudges with him.
I returned to my wing, and found people discussing the paper. When they saw me, they asked how much did i do, i sat there calculating, and i found I did 48 marks out of 50, which was the highest in the wing! They gasped when they heard. That afternoon was spent in critically checking my solutions and certifying them to be all correct.

Bottomline: I got a just pass grade- P in the course of Programming and Data Structures. I thanked Raka- man for his extensive help and asked God never to encounter this language C in my whole life.
And God gave me a lease of life, and I lived happily ever after...
... for a period of 6 years.

(To be continued)

The Thakurian Holiday

2008-01-02T03:52:00.000+05:30

It is the story of 12th when Mr. R K Thakur used to teach us Thakurian physics for CBSE (central bored of second ejucation). There was this habit of his to experiment with the truth that we all were aspiring for IIT JEE and that he thought he had a cure for this epidemic which seemed to affect the bio guys too (just that commerce guys could not understand the JEE concept was the only relieving factor for him). He used to coin "new new" terms every week or when he pleased (whichever was earlier). His tall frame would enter the class and then look at the guys inquisitively (I guess he looked for some physics genius amongst us, but he forgot he passed 5 yrs ago). Then he would start his mahabharat.

Similarly that day too, he coined a bright new Idea "Dekhiye, is saturday ko class hoga, physics chemistry maths. sabko aana hai". Some lesser mortal asked from the back bench "Lekin Sir, saturday to chhutti hai!". Mr. Thakur stared at him as if he would barbecue that poor soul (or it could be that Thakur secretly compared himself with Amitabh because of certain skeletal similarities and was in angry baby mode). However, that shady creature went back into shades when he saw the fierce expression.

Saturday came and went and i did not show up, like Friday.

When i reappeared on Monday, Mr. Thakur was taking attendance. "Was you parjent on Saturday?" he shot a student. The poor guy was absent. "Yahan aayiye aur khade rahiye" he pointed out to a blackboard. The guy stood there, smiling, for soon others were to follow his fate. The Guys, who had a note from their parents (stating why they were absent) were relieved and the guys who were absconding were standing, with their faces beaming like martyrs waiting for their turn into the gas chamber, and i was in that group (it was a large group, about a third of the class was in that elite category).

Mr. Thakur had made a point to teach the group a good lesson. He took us to the Gas (read Vice principal's) chamber. He said, pointing to us "ye log diary likha ke nahin aaye hain madam! dekhiye in log ko!! Aur ye (pointing at me) to do din nahin aaye the, diary bhi nahin laye hain aaj!!! in logon ko chhodiyega mat! class mein ghusne mat dijiyega". And Mr. Thakur returned into his harem to teach new antics of Thakurian physics.

The Vice Principal was a wizened old lady, Mrs. Kar. After dealing with a few boring cases, took a break and called me up "Why did you not get a note for absence?" she asked me (it was her nth time in the day). "Because madam, sir said that if you are absent for a single day, then you need not bring any excuses, and Saturday was not an official class, technically speaking", I shot back. "And why did not you bring your diary?" she croaked. Perhaps she wanted to write my autobiography for such a repartee, and she was missing it badly. "because it is torn and if i bring it, the pages will fly all over", a bad excuse, but better than saying that i had lost that vestigial thing. She said "okay, like others, go and do not come back today in the class"

For an instance, i was sad that I was punished, but soon all my shame was displaced (and it precipitated instantly) by the joy of not being the part of Torture of Thakurian physics (where we were taught how the adiabatic processes had "Expansion at constant volume"). Following that we had double lecture of Mr. KK Sharma who taught us maths from a very original perspective (how to complicate a problem, and then solving it is an art i learnt there, and later realised that it helped people write Comic strips like Dilbert). Unable to contain the joy to myself, i almost ran from the vice principal's office,and shouting "yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee", i ran past my class. I am sure they might have noticed the doppler effect that how various frequencies change their identity when one is uncontrollable and happy.

To cheer other friends, i and some guys started playing handball, and seeing us merry and gay, the other people from the not secret brotherhood started playing table tennis and other sports. We were having fun, and it was doubled seeing Mr. Thakur and his follower students watching us longingly, but you can not have all the fun...

... And we can not have all the fun all the time. Mr. Thakur must have realised that we were too happy, because then he came to us merrymen and asked us to rejoin the class, as we saw Mr. Sharma get into the class. We didn't want to, but he was unrelenting. We even said that we wanted to get punished and we accepted that we were wrong in getting absent, so we deserved this punishment, but he seemed to have melted by this attitude of ours and applied some force on us, so that we could do some work in the maths class...

The Movie Show in Patna

2007-08-24T16:23:00.000+05:30

I still remember that day when i had gone to Patna, my hometown, to meet my parents. It was then Farhan Akhtar's Don was released and I had planned to give it a try as a timepass. After reaching the institute where mom worked, i realised it was too early to accompany her back to home, as it was just quarter to three post meridian. So i was wondering what to do, when it struck me that if i somehow managed a rickshaw, i could go to a nearby hall to watch the movie, which looked promising, and anyways, mom could go back by herself if i was late enough. Having explained this to my conscience, i got a rickshaw and reached there.

Veena movie theatre is a busy area, a hub of all second-hand-book-lover's paradise, movie fanatics like me and the rest of the disorder was caused by the autorickshaws who were maneuvering around to trap more passengers from the exodus of the show which was just over.

Today was the first day of Don and it seemed to be going houseful with very big crowd in front of the gate. It is unnatural for the people here to be disciplined enough to form a queue (and respect the one which is formed), but this crowd was way too big. Almost when i paid the rickshaw, i turned to see the crowd move away and a person emerging from it, badly bruised. As soon as he emerged, he started shouting "10 wala 40 mein" (meaning tickets worth 10 in 40 now). He was peddling the tickets at a higher rate, he was a blackey. I reached him, out of sheer sympathy that he had to do this thing even after being severely beaten by the crowd.

After some 5 minutes of aggressive bargaining, he sold me the tickets in 20 only. I was happy to buy the tickets at a price double the actual. I read once
"The glass is half empty, it could be said that it is half full too."
"Two people look out of window, one sees the mud, the other sees the stars"
Combining these two sentences, i was prilog-ically happy that i got the tickets at half the price, who cared if it was actually double the price.

As soon as i started scrutinising the tickets, i could see that beaten shadow move away from me as if he was slipping by. I smelled something fishy in his behaviour, stopped my scrutiny and shouted "oye ruk!" and he started running away from me. I lunged after him and so did the crowd which had again gathered to bash him up.

Left to the crowd to bash him up, i was again scrutinising the whole thing again, and found that the date was wrong, 26th it was. I was happy to see him thrashed for his misdeed, my heart felt pure and pious now. I asked someone standing beside me the date, and he said 26th.

As if i was thrown back to the ground from the air, i felt pain and pity for the poor soul who was being bashed.

To nihilate that emotion, i silently entered into the hall to watch Don.

The Story of Inventions: part 3 of n: The Invention of Jewellery

2007-08-10T21:54:00.000+05:30

Fantasy till now:
Ramu was in a dilemma, one was external- the rival tribes were always perpetrating his people, killing the female population as they were vulnerable and easily lured into an ambush, and his strategy fell flat on ground. The other problem was internal. It was something related to human nature of satan worshipping...

Idle brain is a devil's symposium, wise men said in the tribe, and ramu believed it. The way the women were jealous and kept on trying to slander each other to get his favour irritated him. He wanted to come home and relax after running before cattle everyday. And what he got was complaints that how someone wanted to split the milk which someone kept for him, and this definitely pointed that someone wanted to slander the impression. Ramu was almost program to get alarmed by the sign of danger and get started in the fighting mode. But the other party did not want him to take actions, instead, she expected him to sit and listen to her, which in his dictionary, was, at best, boring, if said politely.

Ramu noticed that he did not get the daily dose with the dinner when he came back, he noticed that the girl was too busy playing with the "medal". He called her Mau, and his Mau was busy looking at the "necklace" which he gave her yesternight.

For a man who was a free boy years ago, when he used to jump on elephants and play with other primates, thinking that they were kids of his kind, it was suddenly a vacuum. Ramu did not get his food, the deer was barbecued today, and it was to be served with honey, but Mau was in some other world.

Looking at the opportunity, he was served by Kau, the female humanoid, who had a brush with Mau yesterday. Kau in a complaining tone said Mau has been busy all day showing it to us, and madam hence excused herself for not doing any chore. I pitied that your son was playing in the afternoon sun, so i made him sleep, though he wanted to jump with your canine.

It was followed by more of some redundant issues like motherhood, mother-in-law's-hood, and neighbourhood, which sounded silly, because it was something else going in Ramu's mind. If Mau could be busy with the "thing" all day, so could be all of the ladies. now that he knew the source of such stones, so he had some special knowledge which he could use that to his own benefit.

Ramu then almost made it his rule that whenever he was pleased with some female animal, he would give her an ore to ornate herself, while the same ore was melted and used by his gang to counter the invading tribes. The days were passing by and Ramu was happily living. The only problem was for his neighbours and other males who did not have that "thing". They were having a tough time explaining their wives and partners that they really did not know about what "thing" was it.

The bolt struck Ramu when someone found a small nugget which shone brilliantly and it was more yellow and had a peculiar lustre, and now he was left with demanding wives who were busy comparing their weighty ores with that small nugget. The weapon which he tried to use for his peace turned out to be a hornet's nest which he had stirred.

Ramu could foresee the future: The women then, as opposed to their vocal tendency, decided to call that thing as ornament. With this word the world progressed into an age which had weapons of mass distraction, which could first attract some of the earthlings and then, those some earthlings could kill their partners for it, just like orkut.

Story of Inventions: Part 2 of n: The invention of Metal Weapons

2007-08-08T17:47:00.000+05:30

Ramu, the Ramapithican beast had built a slinger for his little boy, who was busy shooting birds and squirrels with it.

This had given Ramu to think how to tackle the wifey animal which had suddenly come into existence. It was a warrior tribe of his- they were nomadic people, as they did not know that land had some better use of cultivation. In that era, stone arms were the panache, and they were in demand, and there was no country which could sell such weapons of mass destruction, it was all about the tribe. Ramu being the head of the tribe had all the worries of the world, as the rival tribes had been following his tribe for over a month now. Last time they fought, his tribe had to incur heavy losses of men and women's lives and cattle etcetera.

It wasn't this always, these primordial men were fighting and they had a good fight to their heart's content, and then, females of the tribe thought highly of those battles, so they too, out of sheer curiosity decided to join their comerades in the skirmishes to have a sense of contentment.

However, there was a blunder in this as Ramu noticed that more women got killed and injured in this battle of resources. It was Ramu's concern because if the women were hurt, his tribe would soon vanish. Though they barbecued the boar perfectly and that they reared the child wonderfully, apart from boosting the morales of the soldiers but they were weak in physical strength.

Moreso, there was another weakness of theirs, they talked a lot, and they could not continue with this silent gory business, and started chatting about the family and other worldly matters with their rival counterparts during the encounter, and then the males of the opposite army would hunt them down. It was a ploy to divert them, and they were succeeding at it. Ramu wondered if he could stop this chain. He tried to use women as an added force and now they were proving to be a bad strategy, as they did not enjoy fighting much, whatever be their level of attraction to glory and fame it brought. They simply did not gel into the picture.

It was a novel solution which once struck him while loitering in the meadows. It was a leisure hour and the cattle were grazing nearby, so Ramu had lots of time to kill. While roaming, he somehow came across a stone which had some stripes- colourful stripes across it. Ramu had never seen any such object in his life. So he took it and kept it with him. He showed it to one of the females of his group, who had taken his shelter as he was the ruler, and she was the most loved by him. After seeing that stone, she wished to keep it, and Ramu as usual gifted it to her. She was happy and kept it with her always.

This new and small discovery made waves in the tribe, as the maid went around showing this unique thing to her other friends who did not own this token of love of Ramu. This made other ladies of the group a bit green. It was not the stone or the love, it was the ego which pinched. One day, after the boar hunt, Ramu ordered some water and this lady went inside, keeping the stone nearby. One of the ladies saw her chance and slipped the stone to some crack of a nearby tree. The stone was lost. In the night, during the barbecue, the thief threw the stone into the fire, and the maid saw her do it, but it was too late! She gasped and flung a stone at her! And that's how started a cat fight. As there was no one at that moment, so it was a secret between these two.

Next day, both of the faces bore the bites and nail marks of fight and the scars told a lot, though they both met the others with a great sunny smile. In the ashes later that day, the girl found something which was as hard as rocks, and it shone the sun like a fireball, as if the sun had concentrated itself in the Red-yellow stone-like object. She showed it to Ramu.

Ramu at once understood the use of it- he now had the metal which was harder than the rocks, it was workable, and could be sharpened later on, and it did not yield easily. He would soon have a war with the rival tribe and make them run for their lives, avenging his recent defeat.

As for the girl, Ramu gave her another stone which she gladly hung around her neck to show off as a medal which she had earned....

(to be continued)

Story of Inventions: Part 1 of n: The invention of telephone

2007-06-13T17:12:00.000+05:30

I have this old habit of daydreaming that whenever i read something, i wonder what would it be, if the things were like this, or whenever i am reading history, then i tend to visualise what would have happened, how someone would have delivered the dialogue and the response he would have got.

Graham Bell was busy in some experiment regarding sound transmission using electrical wires. He was going to be a great scientist in the future [which of course he did not know] and he had to live upto the mark of developing something path breaking. Suddenly, he heard a crackle from a distant loudspeaker which made him believe he had developed the machine to transfer noise [sound] to some other place. Graham: Hey you! What's your name- Ramu [let's call his assistant Ramu]! Come here and speak something in the microphone! Voila!! I Did it!!!
Ramu: Did what sir?
Graham: I just invented the machine which would change the world in future. It would make the place into the annals, and it would be succeeded by Mobiles. By mass manufacturing this, Someone in India would coin the sentence "Kar lo duniya mutthi mein". Now don't waste the time, and speak into the microphone, when i tell you to do so. (Ramu speaks and is a bit confused)
Graham Bell: Voila! It works, eureka!! I did it, It's wonder...
Ramu: Sir, i have a doubt. Since i was standing so near to you, that's why you could tell me to pick up the phone and speak into it....
Graham: So, what's so complicated in it, Ramu that you could not fathom. Pray, continue.
Ramu: Sir, as i was standing near to it, and i could hear you, you could convey the message directly by speaking, and if i were far off, then i could not hear you in the first place to pick up the receiver. Sir, this machine is useless in that case!
(Graham the Great thinks and racks his brain)
Graham: Okay Ramu, I believe i can make use of my surname and add a bell to the telephone so that it would ring and it would attract attention that someone would like to hear your voice. Brilliant! Fantastic!! Ain't I great!
Ramu: Sir, pray if someone didn't hear the bell? I don't think this machine will ever click in the market!
Graham: In future, there would be computers in every home, and they would have Orkut, which would be a thing to scrap people. When my machine would be there, what is the need to write a scrap to people, only to get a reply after half an hour! If it were Yahoo! Messenger, it would have been realtime, or the Google mail, then it would be an e- mail all right! But you see, the scraps were completely not needed. But you would see how the world would invent the use of Orkut, and make it so popular that 55 million people would join it's network. Henceforth naive Ramu, I leave the world to find a good use to this machine, which would become giant in the coming decades.

Dedicated to Kau: part 3 of 3: The Conclusion

2007-06-02T22:36:00.000+05:30

After 17 minutes of ugly laughing, Ramu was glad to find Kau online...

12:17 AM me: tu gaya nahin sone?

12:18 AM ek baat soojhi hai

kau: suna ke jana tha na

SUNA DIYA

me: kya sunaya bata

forward kar

kau: RUK,,

12:20 AM waise yeh OFICE KA KAUN SA SUBMISSION kal hai?
dabba bandi (6/2/2007 12:00:14 AM): PRESENTATION DRWG
Koushik Choudhury (6/2/2007 12:00:42 AM): and u went aware that he submission was tomorrow?
Koushik Choudhury (6/2/2007 12:01:37 AM): weren't
dabba bandi (6/2/2007 12:04:03 AM): NOT REALLY
dabba bandi (6/2/2007 12:04:28 AM): GOT TTHE WRK TODAY
Koushik Choudhury (6/2/2007 12:04:33 AM): NOT REALLLY?..thst vague..
Koushik Choudhury (6/2/2007 12:04:40 AM): u either knew it or u dint
Koushik Choudhury (6/2/2007 12:04:45 AM): oooooooo
Koushik Choudhury (6/2/2007 12:05:44 AM): khair...11th hr work to college mein chalta hai, yahan OFFICE MEIN BHI HOTA HAI,..bhagwan rakhsa kare,,,
Koushik Choudhury (6/2/2007 12:08:02 AM): Khair, tum kaam karo...haan,ek suggestion, agar kisi aur din KABHI eise DITCH MARNA hoo (kisi ko bhi..) to KINDLY OFFICE phone se ya phone booth se atleast ek call kar dena. ..RS 1 mein ho jaega.max RS 2
dabba bandi (6/2/2007 12:08:26 AM): K
dabba bandi (6/2/2007 12:08:34 AM): BYEEEEEEEE (orgasm unlimited)

me: sun, idea hai mera

agar koi na mile to ticket black kar diyo

peace rahega

12:21 AM kau: abbe dekha ke nahi

me: padhne de

kau: aare ticket ka load nahi

me: to fir koi load nahin!

peace maar aur so ja

kau: KRITI nahi to SHONA aa hi jayegi

me: aaj ka din bada bura beeta hai tera

badhiya hai

shona ko le jana

kau: padh liya?

12:22 AM me: nahin baap!

kau: kini slow speed se apdta hai tu bhi

me: tera msg aa jata hai

aur screen scroll ho jati hai

ruk type karna band kar!

12:23 AM arre baap re baaap!!!

tune to crack maar liya be!

bandi ko sure bura lagega

kau: aabe seriously bata

12:24 AM sahi SARCASM ka doze tha na

me: haan

kau: ki zyada ho gaya?

me: lekin usne yeh theek nahin kiya, poochh kya?

kau: kya?

me: usne tujhe sorry bhi nahin kaha!

how come??

this was not expected

12:25 AM kau: AARE..sorry bahut baar boli..

ruk

me: to tune apni bahaduri wala part kaat ke bheja tha kya?

uski sorry wala bhi bhej

12:26 AM kau: dabba bandi (6/1/2007 10:59:52 PM): hey
dabba bandi (6/1/2007 10:59:55 PM): how r u?
Koushik Choudhury (6/1/2007 11:00:00 PM): hey..
Koushik Choudhury (6/1/2007 11:00:20 PM): am fine. so,, whats up?
dabba bandi (6/1/2007 11:00:32 PM): nothg
dabba bandi (6/1/2007 11:00:34 PM): wrking
dabba bandi (6/1/2007 11:00:35 PM): hey
dabba bandi (6/1/2007 11:00:41 PM): prob cnt mak it tomorrow
Koushik Choudhury (6/1/2007 11:00:52 PM): shittttttttttt (for extra pleasure read this in orgasmic manner)
Koushik Choudhury (6/1/2007 11:00:58 PM): seriously?
dabba bandi (6/1/2007 11:01:07 PM): have a submission tomorrow for my new office
dabba bandi (6/1/2007 11:01:10 PM): yeahhhhhhhh (for extra pleasure read this in orgasmic manner)
dabba bandi (6/1/2007 11:01:18 PM): iam trying to complete within mrng
Koushik Choudhury (6/1/2007 11:01:20 PM): and u dint inform me earlier yaar
Koushik Choudhury (6/1/2007 11:01:43 PM): hmm...what can i say..
Koushik Choudhury (6/1/2007 11:02:05 PM): well, ok..u concentrate on that then..
dabba bandi (6/1/2007 11:02:16 PM): sorry
Koushik Choudhury (6/1/2007 11:02:22 PM): dint u know abt this earlier?..or a sudden dealine?
dabba bandi (6/1/2007 11:02:22 PM): cm bk home at 10 pm
dabba bandi (6/1/2007 11:02:27 PM): from office
dabba bandi (6/1/2007 11:02:31 PM): sudden deadline
Koushik Choudhury (6/1/2007 11:02:36 PM): oooohh (for extra pleasure read this in orgasmic manner)
dabba bandi (6/1/2007 11:02:42 PM): got this freelance job today mrng
dabba bandi (6/1/2007 11:02:51 PM): my outgoing s also barred
Koushik Choudhury (6/1/2007 11:02:55 PM): CONGRATULATIONS for that
Koushik Choudhury (6/1/2007 11:03:20 PM): hmm..its ok...guess, i have to try and sell the other ticket then
dabba bandi (6/1/2007 11:03:37 PM): am sorry
dabba bandi (6/1/2007 11:03:39 PM): really
dabba bandi (6/1/2007 11:03:47 PM): will be making dfor it soon
Koushik Choudhury (6/1/2007 11:03:58 PM): dfor?
Koushik Choudhury (6/1/2007 11:04:13 PM): whhts that?
dabba bandi (6/1/2007 11:06:21 PM): for it
Koushik Choudhury (6/1/2007 11:08:47 PM): hey, its ok..its just that i got to know now na, otherwise if it wr in the evening today i cud have asked my frnds to change any plans they had
dabba bandi (6/1/2007 11:09:52 PM): SORRY
dabba bandi (6/1/2007 11:09:54 PM): REALLY
Koushik Choudhury (6/1/2007 11:10:07 PM): no issues yaar..
Koushik Choudhury (6/1/2007 11:10:16 PM): u r thesis is more important
Koushik Choudhury (6/1/2007 11:10:38 PM): guess, u must b hard pressed 4 time rite now
Koushik Choudhury (6/1/2007 11:11:01 PM): u go ahead,,will catch up with u when u r thru the submission
dabba bandi (6/1/2007 11:11:04 PM): little bit
dabba bandi (6/1/2007 11:11:12 PM): trying to earn also amidst this
Koushik Choudhury (6/1/2007 11:13:04 PM): thats indeed a worthwhile thing to do..honestly, how u mange the TUTIONS, the tHESIS, nad now the office, i am hard pressed to imagine
Koushik Choudhury (6/1/2007 11:13:29 PM): and yes..NOT TO FORGET ur 32 yr wala BEAU, amidst all this
dabba bandi (6/1/2007 11:13:31 PM): earning
Koushik Choudhury (6/1/2007 11:13:34 PM):
dabba bandi (6/1/2007 11:13:37 PM): ufffffffffffffffffffff (again, for extra pleasure read this in orgasmic manner)
Koushik Choudhury (6/1/2007 11:14:09 PM): ha ha ha ...c , atleast now u know am not angry or nething
Koushik Choudhury (6/1/2007 11:14:22 PM): but yes..DAMN HEART BROKEN...ab kya kahen..
dabba bandi (6/1/2007 11:14:41 PM):
Koushik Choudhury (6/1/2007 11:15:07 PM): well, u will have to pay back with interest my frnd for this
Koushik Choudhury (6/1/2007 11:15:35 PM): is baar to sirf EK movie fir chutti ka plan kiya tha...
Koushik Choudhury (6/1/2007 11:16:12 PM): ab INTEREST ke taur par bakayda ..jis weekend free hogi tab milna hoga
Koushik Choudhury (6/1/2007 11:16:41 PM): DEKHA bachhu..IIT ians never make a LOOSING DEAL
Koushik Choudhury (6/1/2007 11:17:11 PM): HAAR mein bhi JEET nikal hi latein hain
dabba bandi (6/1/2007 11:17:24 PM): K
Koushik Choudhury (6/1/2007 11:56:09 PM): STILL SIFTING thru OR FOUND THE RELEVANT INFO?
dabba bandi (6/1/2007 11:56:28 PM): DESIGNING
Koushik Choudhury (6/1/2007 11:59:13 PM): aah..wasnt that done..guess, after ditching me, u have ample time tomorrow to finsh it off

after 6 minutes

12:32 AM me: sale tune next date ka plan banaya hai, aur hamare samne rona ro raha hai

sale tu bandi ke samne hero banna kyun shuru kar deta hai?

12:33 AM kau: pata nahi yaar

me: kya pata nahin!

kau: aabe main mauke ka fayda uthana bhi chah raha tha aur gussa bhi aa raha tha

12:34 AM salle ...TUNE MUJHE CHARA DIYA

TO FULTO GUSSA AA GAYA

AUR ZYADA HI SARCASTIC HO GAYA

me: haan be, tu hi to ek hoshiyar hai

kau: AUR TU TO JANTA HAI....AM THE SARCASM GOD

me: fayda utha rahe the!!

ab tere sarcasm ke karan woh kabhi nahin jayegi tere saath

12:35 AM tere date ke mansoobe dhool mein lot rahe hain

jaise sawan mein gadha loTta hai

abe tu future date ko leke serious hai kya?

kau: AABE USKE SATH MERA KOI FUTURE HI NAHI TO KYA SOCHNA

12:36 AM me: sale abhi to tune date ki baat ki

woh kya tha fir?

kau: WAISE BHI 1-2 MAHINE MAIN JOB SHIFT MARNA HAI

me: IITIAN wala dialogue?

kau: SO..IN SAB MEIN JANA NOT FEASIBLE NOW

SAB SUNANE KE LIYE

MAINE KAHA NA

MAINE USE SUNA DIYA

12:37 AM jaan boojh ke kaha tha

me: tune agar future mein Date ka socha hai to bhool ja

aur agar sunana chahta tha to future date ka mention bhi nahin karna tha

kau: NAHIN..I DON'T AGREE WITH U ON THIS

MY TACTICS R BIT DIFFERENT

me: different but they have loop hole

12:38 AM bandi ko hansne ka thoda time mil gaya

kau: NAAAH

TU GALAT CONCLUSION NIKAL RAHA HAI

12:39 AM TRUST ME..I WAS BAD ONE DAY...JUST ONE DAY..donnt draw ur conclusions based on that..I KNOW WHAT I AM DOING

me: theek hai

dekhte hian kal

kau: neways..good suggestions u gave

me: agar bandi maan gayi jane ke liye to hum tujhe maan jayenge

kau: liked ur perspective as well

me: thnx! be

12:40 AM kau: CHALO..ABB NEED ACHI AAYEGI

DIL HALKA HO GAYA:)

me: haan be

neend mast aayegi

kau: chal..gudnite ..dear

me: sweet dreams

guud nite

kau: :)

me: sleep tight

me: don't let the bugs bite

12:41 AM

kau: ooooooooohhhh k

me: chal all the best!

Dedicated to Kau: Part 2 of 3: Ek Chhoti si Love Story

2007-06-02T19:20:00.000+05:30

Ramu had a best enemy [like the highest order animals have best pals] known as Kau. He was a mean machine, but he also had a golden heart, it depended solely on his mood if he was in a golden mood or not...

Ramu wanted to get exported to America, like other animals of his IITian breed. One way was to deport himself in the cage of smuggled baboons, while the other way out was via giving a moronic exam which promised to satisfy the various GREeds of knowledge, money, position, power and fortune of most "aliens" [this is what international highest order biped animals are termed in the United States]. Ramu being an underpriviledged malnutritioned animal did not have a credit card to pay the sum the GRE people demanded. Kau readily accepted to pay the sum and it was the time when Ramu wanted to pay back what he borrowed from Kau. They were to meet at some place in Kolkata, let's call that place Witty Center. Kau was in a bad mood, as usual. From 5:20 in the evening, he started calling Ramu every 5 minutes, snarling that why in the world was he late, as he had to reach Witty Center by 6:30, and Kau will have to miss the bus to his home, he feared. Ramu was seriously agitated, but he could not lock horns with Kau, as he was travelling towards the venue with the Bandi. Keeping his boiling lava inside him, he pacified Kau. However, on reaching the pre- decided spot, Kau was nowhere to be seen.
Ramu on phone 6:30 PM: "Kahan hai tu?"
Kau on Phone: "Office mein, gimme 5 minutes, will be there"
Ramu never knew if 360 seconds made a minute or something like that. Kau appeared at the spot after what seemed like an aeon.
Kau looked in his Best, with a skin tight XXL T- Shirt clinging to his geodesic potbelly, and hair nicely done, he donned the look of a perfect gentleman. Ramu was surprised at the new look of his best enemy.
Kau took both Ramu and Bandi [he could not leave Ramu behind, at least this is what etiquettes said] and treated them with coffees of their choice, the bill solely paid by Kau. In his golden mood, Kau was likable (at least, you should like the person who pays the bill for your costly coffee treat!). Kau was trying to impress the girl with his etiquettes, while Ramu was busy relishing his share (and Kau's share) of cold coffee. Kau was pleading "I'm so ssssssorry, it's because of him that i did not get the time to ggggroom myself.... i hope u don't mind my look. Gimme one more chance and i can present myself in my best. Please don't mmmmind"
This sentence was repeated in many different ways and said in many different human languages. Ramu was looking out of the bus window now as he had no interest in the gossip the grown ups do. Girl was busy filling in the Survey like questions of Kau, and Kau's curiosity kept him popping more doubts, and the bus was stuffy, and Ramu was happy that his money was not wasted on a waste like coffee [which he enjoys on others' cost].

The girl wanted to go to some friend's home, and Kau was eager to drop her their, despite of him getting late for his abode. The girl, however, parted and so did Ramu, leaving Kau in a cool emotional surge...

Ramu later learned that Kau and the lady were planning to go to the movie The Pirates of Caribbean. It was a night before the d'day that a chat took place between the two.

11:31 PM kau: sala

!@#$

me: kya hua?

kau: kahan hai

11:32 PM me: kahe ro raha hai

kau: aabe yeh teri bandi..kya SERIOUSLY dabba HAI?

me: kya hua?

kya kia tum dono ne?

be right back

11:33 PM ab rona shuru kar wapas. am back

11:34 PM kau: kya hua...sun..gajab dhakkan bandi hai..aare, movie ke liye khud 3 din pehel haan boli thi jab poocha to...ticket kharidne ke liye boli advance, with MADAM ji ka prefered timing..aur kal raat tak haan haan hami bharti rahi..

and GUESS WHAT..

11:35 PM aaj morning ko call kiya to uthayi nahi

abhi 5 MIN pehele yahoo mein bolti hai..ki kal koi SUBMISSSION hai uske office mein it seems

so cannt come

WHAT THE HECK YAAR...

11:36 PM PIRATES ka ticket i had to book thru credit card..

me: :(

ohhh

kau: 220 bucks

pani mein

me: she is so unprofessional

this is bad

kau: i even ditched KRITI

AND GUESS WHAT

me: kya?

11:37 PM abe kriti ko le jana fir

kau: KRITI WAS THE ONE ON WHOSE CREDIT CARD I BOOKED IT, ..i was supposed to go with him for PIRATES COZ HE HAD ASKED ME WAY EARLIER

me: kal pakad le

kau: I CHANGED MY PLANS ON WEDNESDAY coz of your Bandi

and now, this..

me: ohhhhh, yeh to kela ho gaya tera

11:38 PM kau: aare.KRITI ke apne plans nahi kya..just think how cheap i wud appear to KRITI if i asked him now

me: this is bad yaar

saturday ko kahin submission hota hai bhala

kau: and GUESS WHAT

KRITI was so generous engh..he gave me his CREDIT CARD (coz the card has to b shown at the counter 4 confirmation..)

11:39 PM SERIOUSLY..this is way way unprofessional

me: tch tch tch

usse baat kar

kau: AND WAY TOO CHILDISH

me: phone pe

hana yaar, yeh childish thode hi hai

it is bad

kau: AGR submission HAI TO SHE MUST HAVE KNOIWN IT EARLIER NA

me: tu usse baat kar ke bol clearly ki aisa nahin karna chahiye tha

11:40 PM agar nahin jana tha to pahle bol deti

kau: forgrt it...

me: u had to bow before kriti for his credit card

kau: I CALLED up her in the evening she hadnt picked it up

atleast she shud have had the courtesy to call back

me: haan yaar

kau: she ssays ..her BALANCE wasnt there

me: tujhe load hua hai, main samajh sakta hoon

11:41 PM kau: AND GUESS WHAT

she has a POST PAID na?

me: landline to hai hi uske paas

kau: AABE..load nahi..i feel humiliated

me: haan main samajh sakta hoon

kau: NOT ONLY BECOZ OF HER..BUT BECOZ i now have to ask some collegue or kriti TO COME ALONG

neways...

11:42 PM me: bandi ko bolna ki tujhe kitni sharmindgi jhelni padi

kau: ACHA..DONNT MENTION A WORD OF THIS RETORT OF MINE TO HER

me: nahin re

kyun bolunga

kau: IF SHE HAS SENSE..she will call up

me: haan

she should call u up

kau: YAHOO pe rto lecture de rahi thi ki..SHE WILL make up or something

dekhte hain

me: shud i ask her to call u up?

11:43 PM make up matlab?> make up kar ke aayegi?

kau: aare..CHODO.infact, i rather played the whole issue down..as if her not comming wasnt of much consequence

that shud suit her

guess, she values her importance way too much or something

whatever

me: arre usko yeh to bola hota ki uske karan tujhe kitna zaleel hona pada

11:44 PM kau: HAAN WO TO BOL HI DIYA

me: kahan bola tune?

kau: aur agar call kari..ya agle baar phone pe baat hua to AIS ASUNAOONGA

me: tune to yeh show kiya ki tujhe fark nahin pada

kau: bola..ki SHE SHUD HAVE INFORMED ME BY EVENING..

AT LEAST WHEN I CALLED HER UP

11:45 PM me: kau

tu usse badla le

usse ticket khareedwa

aur mat ja

kau: CHODENGE TO NAHI

me: ekdum tit for tat badla hai

yes

kau: jo bhi ho...SUNA KE TO CHORUNGA

me: ab aaya na tu track pe

mard ban mard

11:46 PM seene pe baal hain to usko prove kar

kau: agar sali call nahi bhi ki to hi-bye ke bahane khudcall karonga aur sala @^&#..KO AISA SUNAOONGA

aabe..tu kya MAZAK KE MOOD MEIN HAI?

me: nahin sale

kau: YE KYA LIKH RAHA HAI

me: tujhe tempo de raha hoon

tu bhi na

11:47 PM kau: ok..ok

me: woh nahin aayi aur tu chup chap sunta reh gaya

gadha!!

kau: NAHI SAALE yahoo messeger pe jitna bolna tha bola

me: kya bola tune?

kuchh bhi to nahin!

kau: ab to PHONE PE BOLLONGA

me: ladki ke samne shareef ban jata hai

kau: HMM..SHAYAD

me: kuchh nahin bol payega tu

11:48 PM kau: sala..chara maat

me: munh mein dahi jama ke baitha rahega- bandi ke aage teri aisi hi halat hoti hai

nahin to kya aarti utarun teri?

kau: hmm...nahi, kal to call karna hi karna hai..

USKI !@#$ KI TO

SERIOUSLY BE..

11:49 PM MAIN SALA KUCH ZYADA HI SARIF HOON

kaal to xsunake chorna hai

me: Bandi se main kuchh kahun ya tu handle karna pasand karega?

kau: NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH

DONNT DO THAT..

me: to tu bolega

agar main nahin to tu

kau: SHE WILL THINK I HAVE NO BACKBONE TO HANDLE MYSELF

me: soch le

sale woh tere paas bilkul nahin hai

kau: I WILL SPEAK TO HER FIRST..

11:50 PM %$#@!

me: theek hai

kau: !@#$, KYA BOL RAHA HAI

me: dekhte hain tere munh mein se phool jharte hain ki aag

abhi yahoo pe online hia

dikha de aaj

kau: THIK HAI..BANDI SE HI SUN LENA AFTER I BASH HER UP..

USI SE AB TAK BAAT HO RAHI THI..KAHA NA

11:51 PM me: okies, dekhte hain teri bahaduri- darpok!

kau: I KNOW SHE IS ONLINE

me: hmmmmm

theek hai

kau: WHATEVER

me: kal ka suraj batayega ki kya bol paya tu

11:52 PM chal koi ni

peace maar

kau: YAHOO KA QUOTA OVER ho chuka , PHONE PE BATIYANGE

me: kal movie dekh aur khushi se enjoy kar

11:53 PM kau: WAISE BHI YAHOO MEIN WO SALI..3 MIN BAAD REPLY MARTI HAI

me: abe woh thesis likhti hai

isiliye 3 min bad reply karti hai

kau: pata hai

sali ko REVIT tak nahi aata

sketch-up pe phatti hai

11:54 PM aur 3D max main main exprt hoon ya nahi poochti hai

*&^%

me: koi ni be

kau: khair..

chal main nikalta hoon

me: kya ghalat poochhti hia?

tu exp[ert nahin hai kya?

kau: sone jata hoon

me: chal be

sadma laga hoaga tujhe

kau: bahut gussa dimag gghooma deta hai

me: so le thoda

kau: bbye

GDNITE

11:55 PM me: good nite

kal movie enjoy kariyo

kriti ko saath le jana

bbye

This chat was followed by an ugly laughter from Ramu's side, and a silence of 17 minutes....

(to be continued)

Dedicated to Kau: Part 1 of 3: Birth of an Evil Genius

2007-06-02T19:18:00.000+05:30

In the primordial jungle of Dept of Architecture, in Institute of Indian Technology, lived thirteen primates collectively known as the Design Czars. They were an awful lot, scheming bizarre ideas, and ideas of making weird cave drawings about just anything. Each of them had their eccentricities and one of the Neanderthals was affectionately (though I don't have proof of that, it's just a guess) named Koushik by its parents, or just Kau in short. As mentioned in the other meaning of subordinate clause of last sentence, Kau loved to be robed in shorts, usually more than 15 days dirty, some were patchy with various food stuff it generously shared with its garments, and various sweat glands in its body which were still not closed by a thick layer of dead skin and humus accumulated over the aeon of 28 years.

People used to loathe Kau, especially the animal next to it named Jha ji. Though the other animal called Czacci showed that he hated him, but it was speculated that he secretly loved the dirty (both meanings- physical and mental) ways of it.

Ramu (short for Ramapithicus) believes that It was all rumour floated by the other Neanderthals to make fun of that poor thing Kau. Ramu believes no one can have brain so rotten from birth that it can be termed Mad Kau Diseased. The Ramapithicus also believes that unlike Polio, Mad Kau disease does not affect children, unless they eat beef. Kau loved pork, not beef. So it could be a mad pig disease at best, if it could be termed sick.

It was famous that Kau usually wandered from one room to other, its hand inside his shorts, itching, just an hour or two before submissions of cave drawings done on autocad, and used to see, what special its batch- mates did, and used to integrate them in his drawings. Ramu used to explain to his batchmates that by doing so, Kau always put a symbolic message of unity in its drawing, which only the enlightened Profs of IIT could catch and award the high marks to him.

A special ingredient in its submissions was an application before the submissions. The application mentioned that due to some unforeseen act of God (his senior who passed out of IIT with Donkey and Devil- read my other story Of HOD, God and Donkey) he usually was unable to submit the drawings. The profs, being the expressionists, reacted violently to it, showing their big canines and sharp nails, hissing and beating their flabby chests, but it was a certain element of suspense which made its drawings interesting, just like the Romanesque piazzas and vistas (which comprised of a narrow, long road suddenly leading into a very wide space, had an element of surprise waiting for the people). The animal named Kau would work for 4 days non stop and then present his integrated design which would have a dome like St. Sophia's Cathedral, an Ocular opening like a pantheon, some ribbon windows and a lot of trellises, the whole plot would be exquisitely landscaped. It was then left for the whole of the batch to pick and choose their elements out of that master oeuvre. It was a pleasure to see Kau pleading the prof for an extension and how he would not have asked had his hard disk not crashed 6 hours ago. And it was replied by the prof that why did he not make a back up an hour before that crash! Ramu knows that it was fun for it, but was it the same expression of its other batchmates, it never occured to it.
(there's more to come...)

The Spidey Returns

2007-05-29T21:59:00.000+05:30

It's the season of sequels. Nice kiddy- kiddy movies going family- family kinds in their new avatars. And in his new avatar, spidey rocks, and when he did so (but not better than Prabhuji aka Mithun da), i fell from chair, rolling with laughter. Rock and roll.

Spidey is now fully settled in the city, and people love him, especially the kids. He is now ready to replace Shilpa Shitty now, appearing in concerts and parties and inaugurating shops and giving his autographs. In one of the parties, he appears for some ribbon cutting ceremony, and kisses a beautiful girl standing there. I was expecting that when he unmasks himself, then I'd be seeing the face of Emraan Kiss-me, as a surprise element. But Emraan Kiss- me did not oblige his fans . He had this to say

"It was a nice presentation on Tobey's part. Kissing someone hanging upside down must be real fun. In bollywood movies, the kissing scene has been experimented with so many objects, even villains kissing the cameras lenses, or Sridevi kissing the glass slab in Mr. India, but not like this! Not even kamasutra mentions such an innovative pose. I appreciate myself for giving this role to Tobey boy"

Rakesh loathes the very idea of eating from someone's plate. He argues that it is "the saliva thing" which he detests. The same idea could be extended to kissing people too...

After this scene, the movie goes on the road forged by Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna. Spidey fighting with villain, then spidey fighting another villain, then spidey fighting with his girl, he looked like Mayawati or Mamta Di fighting against the scum of the societies. Relations were broken, and to make the matter worse, some black symbiotic alien (who had an uncanny nature of making people acting like a buffoons- it made him react in a similar manner), who had an english name Venom (sounds like those WWE wrestlers), too finds shelter in the body of spiderman. Said my friend "Of all the people, the alien found Spidey!" Definitely, suppose if I want to join politics, then definitely I would be joining the party which is in power, not the one who keeps on throwing tantrums and keeps calling a truce. So that is why the Venom chose spidey, or perhaps, the kissing scene might have lured him, who knows.

Alien actor Venom vented his venom on the sets of Spiderman-

It was a shock for me. What i perceived as a kissing saga turned into a family story of Spiderman. My hopes were shattered in the starting itself, but the main shock was yet to come. He started singing and dancing, as if the former trauma was not enough. I could feel the silent laughter of spot boys at the scene, and my host body of Spidey looked comic, but what the heck!

The Climax (compare it with any hindi flick):
The heroine is tied up and is lying hapless on a giant cobweb (made by the Venom), held captive, and here comes Spiderman to rescue her. I had a strong urge for a song at that point- Spiderman dancing and singing so that the Venom doesn't kill the sweetheart.

jab tak tere pair chalenge, iski saans chalegi"-- Gabbar Singh, Sholay

In the end, there was a big fight, in which all the baddies of the movie had a congregation, and spidey served them sometimes in first-come-first-serve manner, and sometimes in parallel, until they united and thrashed him to pulp. Spidey had no option left now but to use the deadliest weapon he had... the power of music. What followed was the recitation of Symphony number 9 on Xylophone by the maestro. I wish mithun da was in the role, he would have played a classic number and danced too, as he did in Classic- The dance of love; i wish the movie was directed by director Karrion Jahar for a better family script, but alas- all wishes don't come true. As my anonymous friend doubts "How did the sandman (one of the villains) take his daily bath?". Who would have noted this point of personal hygiene in this otherwise clean movie?

The Tummy Story

2007-05-19T12:14:00.000+05:30

I woke up and went to the computer, (which is the only means of survival in this hot and extremely humid paradise) and logged into Orkut. I found there this community "Tond Club". The community is an agglomeration of people having all sorts of waist sizes from 40 to 28 and a half.

This community has left me remembering my aunt who once defined the "Stone Tond" of someone or the "Soft Tond" of mine which is more like gelatinous pudding.

It has also left me wondering how can we measure whose is a better tummy? It is quite an impossible question for people who hail from draught struck area and they never possessed (rather got possessed) by this thing. Could it be the radius of curvature, like astrophysicists around the world measure all heavenly bodies?

The criteria could then well be like:

Please tick one tummy you admire: Radius of Curvature being: (a) infinity (like those flat screen televisions) (b) that of earth at equator (c) that of football (d) that of incandescent bulb (in this case, it perhaps would be a tumour, malignant or benign, that tests would tell).

Another way could be radius of gyration, as engineers measure. We all know that the more the bubble in the carpenter's spirit level is at centre (when placed at the centre of abdomen), the smaller is the radius of gyration. So all interested parties could be left to gyrate their hips, the more they can, the better will a tumtum be called.

Or could it be more informal like what farmers grow in orchards, like apple tummies or pear tummies, and the vote be drawn on the favour of fruits you enjoy devouring, or the taste of the tummies you can dig your teeth into. It could be coconut for those hirsute tummies, resembling a coconut kept on table (also known as "pointed Tond" in hindi), and people who like coconuts may have a weakness for that. And for people like me, it could well be, i don't know, because i have pretty feeble knowledge about fruits which are so soft.

I realise that the proper presentation of a tummy too might make it win a few more points, like people who wear the pants below their tummies and shirts which are small so that the lower furry half of their tummies is visible to the world would turn out to be a winner, indeed, quite closely followed by people who wear the shirts so tight that it looks as if the buttons on the pinnacle of their stomach would pop and the shirt ready to burst open.

I also realise that people like me (who have soft) and a few celebreties (like Adnan uncle), who have their complete torsos turned into a geodesic dome pose a problem, but if some gradation of this thing could be made possible, then perhaps every 2 out of 3 Americans and 1 out of 1000 Nigerian owners would feel great about their objects of desire, and may aspire for a better pantheon.

To Boldy go, Where No One has Gone Before

2007-05-02T20:08:00.000+05:30

Earth calling spaceship, earth calling spaceship, come in spaceship, come in!
yes earth, Commanding officer of the ship calling earth...
Is everything all right, Officer?
Yes base, everything's going fine. We are now at some 52, 310 km distance from you in the direction.And the journey till now has been as easy as tossing the coin..... Wait! Why did not the coin touch the ground!! Ha! The distance is falling rapidly- I repeat, base- the distance is falling rapidly.... We are now 45, 375 kms from you base, get some help! Labor's day, labor's day!! We are falling under gravity!!! help!!!
Woo hoo! have fun!!
We need back up, this is an emergency....
errr... sorry, the back up ppl are on holiday, Sir!
Then gimme the puppy power, will you?
The puppies took the ships to menzoberranzan... and you'd ve happy to know that and they're having a good time with the dark elves and their pet panthers...
send some polar bears then (argh!)
They are busy protesting against some climatologists, they seem to like the new swimming pool which has appeared near north pole...
Then send some IITians damn it!
They have a lifetime supply of movies, they won't budge~
We are just foot away from earth- help!!!
erm... that must be Zoria, the planet of Argot planet system...
I want to die! Aw Gawd!! I want to die....
It's easy to get confused between....
You mean am i that fool to confuse between this torture and death?!
naahh... you're more silly than just that
We had taken a dog with us in this spaceship, and he seems to be bouncing around and stomping us....
How cruel... where's his seat belt?
He chewed it!
He certainly would, you shouldn't have made it out of your beau's skin, captain...
It is not that he is stomping us, while stomping he never forgets to- urghhhh... stop licking me, you overexcited beast! Get off! shooh- and our seatbelts are stuck... this irritating piece of junk doesn't open up! and this ass keeps on popping up every two minutes- get away you fat animal from the camera!
hmmm.... creatures of order higher than humans were not allowed to be taken with. Who asked you to take the dog along with?
We took it as our guide to galaxy.... Ak-chhoo!! It is shoving it's tail in my nose now! You sonovabitch!
Excuse me Sir! You can not talk like that befor....
A dog is a son of a bitch, any doubts, officer?
Yessir! And the improbability drive installed on the ship? guides very well....
Off you idiot! The drive is corrupt with some virus..... It says you are on earth, in some Mariana like trench...
It's corrupted. Don't believe it.
Definitely! It shows some unbelieveable distance from base and says- Whoa! That animal was a Shark! We ARE in a trench!!
Enjoy the view then...
(i'm glad that the ejecting system of the seat too failed!)
... after all, it's not everyday that its not everyday that one gets stuck in a beautiful place as such. We'll contact the authorities in zoria. You'll be out of that place in a month's time... Till then, have a nice time...
Gawd No! Stop IT! I'm in some trench of earth! Find me!! Tell me- do sharks eat tail wagging face licking idiots?
You can try feeding him. But seeing your predicament (faulty seat belts)... you ought to be more nervous than the dog.
That dog has been joyously souting at the sharks and they too are enjoying it! This fat junk thinks they are his type!
The dog might be having conversation in Zorian language.The dog is yelping some unhummable number.
I believe they are singing....
More like southy songs... Yeah! The dog and the 12 sharks encircling my ship....
Yay! You are getting the traditional Zorian welcome dance. They seem to like you!
Yeah, and where will i be after 24 hours of finishing of this great ritual? In the septic tanks of sharks, if they have it.
Well... You see, the creatures there are far more efficient in utilizing food, so you'll not be wasted
I wish the sharks come and take away this beast so that they may sing and dance in unison. He'd be a nice meal to them.
Shh... Don’t let them hear your plans. They like to do the opposite of what one plans.
Dog is busy sniffing every long standing thing and spraying his “scent” on it.
Look on the sunny side… he's not licking your face any more.
There's no sun. Only some faint light of some fish
Okay let’s call that fish Fludge. Fludge is showing you the light.
Call it some stupid fish which is dumb enough to sing with them.
More like he's putting a spotlight on you so the sharks get a better view. Isn't he a generous little chap?
Yeah, the generous fellow sounds more like a rhino mixed with a duck.
As they say... Beauty is in the eye of the beholder... I'm sure, Mrs. Fludge thinks he sounds quite good.
They did not say about blind people.
In fact... There are reports of Mr. Fludge taking part in underworld idols…
And quite oblivious to his beauty, more and more creatures are joining the chorus and ouch~ they are banging the hull now!!
They're background singers… no no...! They're just playing the drums!
This retarded dog things they are eager to meet him. Shut up! Get someone to help us out of this! The hull is about to breach and I'm stuck in this mess.
Is that okay if I ask tomorrow?
Why? Is today some strike?
It’s after office hours now…
And what are you doing, may i ask, after the office hours?
I was doodling…
Gawd! This is nuts! Pull us out, the oxygen's getting thin here!! I'm your commander u dumb man!
Why?! Stay there
NOW!!!
I do not remain an active service WOMAN after 5. I will sue you for stopping me from doodling.
Go ahead and sue me! At least i'll be alive to kick u after that
And well... After having been tormented like this, i have to take tomorrow off. I'm sorry but there's no one else to take your message, sir…! And since I'm already planning on taking Friday as holiday……
..... I’ll Suspend... Gulp blub. Save my dog! He cost me 5 000 bucks!
Sir! You'll definitely have someone there by Monday…
Gulb bulb .............
(water entered, everyone's being merrily eaten by sharks and other sea animals still singing the song)
Ooh... That sounded interesting... Bubble talk! Sir!!!
……….
Hello Spaceship, come in! Are you dead, Sir~ Sir?
……….

Hi Chief... Captain Tango Foxtrot reporting Sir! Having a nice time at the golf game? Uh huh... yeah, i was just hanging around in the office feeding the fish, they seemed to like the meal... I was just about to wind up the loose ends of the day. Oh yeah, and Commander of the spaceship- whatshisname- called, and i think your project of The Space Mission is a grand success- he was speechless~! Yes sir, I can feel your joy even on this channel! Yes Sir, I informed the press about it- they are rather bored these days! Oh, and I just added in the details about the virus infected system onboard, insufficient fuel and oxygen... That would make a complete- readable- scoop! Have a nice day, Sir!!

This story and the last one "Of God, Hod and Donkey" was not written solely by me, but they evolved in a chat with my friend, Samira :) Thanx to her.

Exercising the Labia Oris Muscles

2007-04-27T08:39:00.000+05:30

Indians are a breed which is tolerant anything except for- you can guess what it is from the title, my help is not needed! Gone are those days when they showed two birds feeding each other or two flowers swaying (albeit in very unnatural way, as if someone sitting below was shaking them!).

Richard Gere could be sentenced jail for kissing a Shetty Woman. This lady too has a sad story. First someone kicks her, then someone kisses her and court finds courtly kiss in country an offense. The judge along with two other advocates found this incident obscene:

The magistrate, Dinesh Gupta, reacting to a private complaint filed by advocate Poonam Chand Bhandari, watched a CD of an AIDS awareness function in Delhi at which Gere hugged and gave Shilpa a peck, as shown by a TV channel, to pronounce that the act was "sexually erotic" and "indecent". [read further for entertainment]

Says advocate Ramautar Gupta:

"It is all indecency and nudity which our society cannot tolerat e."

It Sounds as if Shakespeare was reborn in Afghanistan of 90's. Says one comrade who has a taste for saffron and a distaste for all things which sound feminine "Only humans (in an Agent Smith-ian manner) kiss, have you seen animals pecking? No! Only Humans do this indecent act. And we want all the people of this holy land to abolish this age old malpractice. You see, it was all started by Geeks." "You mean people who kiss are nerds?" "Yes they are! But i was talking about about the citizens of some European country. Yeh Desh Kissanon ka hai- yahan aisa kissa nahin chalega! Think of the situation when everyone starts kissing, no one would do any work!"

One of the most eminent actors and pecking experts of our local Hollywood of India, Emran Kissme has this to say "I wish Richard all the best. He did the right thing by Kissing and running out of the country. He should go to some country which does not have an extradition treaty with India. You see, this is why all my pecking scenes are shot in foreign countries, and i do it only if the script (which is at most as lengthy as an A5 sheet) demands, or the director demands, or even if the heroine demands. There is a catch though, that the duration of proper kissing should not be less than 5 minutes and there should be a nice sound as if someone is rubbing balloons. Richard should have consulted me before doing this. Had he done that, the judge would not have to see the scene unnecessarily made long by the media by repeating the same frame again and again."

The actress Muli-ka Sharbat was not at all amused by this controversy. The actress of film Khwahish (the film with 17 kisses, which made me believe that Hazaron Khwaishein Aisi had 1000 times more kisses) explains why she was never summoned by the court "It is because of the wooden expression i throw when kissing that the scene doesn't look erotic at all! An expressive face could have landed in trouble, as has this." It was a short and subtle reply. A hero kissing such a girl could be easily mistaken for a woodpecker, or if he is expressive enough, then he would be mistaken as a conservationist juxtaposing his labia oris muscles to a tree and the law of the land does not stop animals from pecking, or humans kissing the trees. I am loving it as some newspaper puts this news above "India becomes trillion dollar economy". This entertainment cannot be pirated!

Gone-s and Morose-s

2007-04-23T16:09:00.000+05:30

This article may seem harsh, but this is what i find neutral, without any biases.
I pity the loner who killed 32 and injured another 29 before killing himself. He reminded me faintly of a movie Runaway Jury. This movie was closely linked to another killing which took place in US a few years ago. The easy access to ammunitions and arms in US are the reasons some may point. Some hate the sick men (called shooters in both the cases) and some may shed a tear for those who died saving the kids in Virginia Tech. From the Neutral view point, it was more of a frustration which led Cho to this macabre state.

It is a debatable issue, that who was more wrong- the society who forged Cho into a shooter (and subesquently, a shame for his country, and his family) or Cho, who killed and injured 61 innocent lives.

It is akin a feedback amplifier. The output itself is the input. Why is there a hue and cry over it, when there was no control over the various stimuli which went into making Cho a deadly disaster?

"In high school, Cho Seung-Hui almost never opened his mouth. When he finally did, his classmates laughed, pointed at him and said: “Go back to China.”"

It's ridiculous that his classmates did not even care to know which country did he belonged to.

Wikipedia mentions that Cho was mistreated and was mocked by his friends when he tried to speak. He was told . To make someone unsocial is a making him mentally weak. The society shot bindfolded and Cho was hurt, and now Cho shot randomly, and 61 were affected. And when he finally blurted out his 1800 word manifesto, everyone had to hear. This music was written by the society, and the society has to face it.

And how could a commoner like Cho buy guns? This is the point which people forget. Is not it a responsibility of gun manufacturing companies to sell their products in more responsible manner? A gun doesn't have any other use, like toilet cleaning, that even a high school student might need it.

I read in a news paper that there were some phishing sites which were minting money by falsely portraying themselves as relief funds for this Virginia tech shooting case. Someone gives free access to guns, like Reliance gave mobiles to so many Indians, and some parasites use this graphic incidence to make money. Then why point all the fingers to the soul who died? They too must share his slander.

Society has a weak memory. It is a point which society will forget. This incidence will definitely become a wiki in Wikipedia.

My condolences for the grieved families who are gone forever. I sympathise for the family of Cho who had to bear the demise of their dear one with disgrace.

10C, Miss Haldar and Aao Scandal

2007-04-23T14:26:00.000+05:30

This happened in hindi class, in my 10th std.

It was Madam Haldar who used to teach hindi to us. She had a voice shrill like parrot and she was known good for her ability to apply flimsy dialogues in their most appropriate context.

It was in the section A that someone asked her permission before entering her class and she said "aao". Soon enough, the guys caught the funny part of AAO and started reciting it like people do in Poojas, reciting the names 108 times. This new mantra percolated in our section of 10 C.There was this guy Pankaj, who after having a good experience of std 7th for three years had joined us and decided to stick with us till matriculation. He decided to take this uranium and convert it into nuke....

That eventful day, just after short break was madam's class, and Pankaj and his gang planned the whole logistics of the war. The chalked AAO everywhere, the teachers desk, the chair, the blackboard, all the front benches and filled wherever they could find the blanks with due sincerity. I, as usual was a mute witness to this drama, and was imagining what was going to come, and suddenly pankaj came to me. "tu yeh madam ko dikhayega. Agar nahin dikhaya to dekh lena chhutti mein!". It was a predicament before me. If i speak up, then it was me who was going to be in soup, and if i do not, then i was in deep water, and i had to think of something in less than 5 minutes. As the madam came, everyone stood up. The words "chhutti mein dekh lena" were echoing inside me... Just then i blurted out "Madam, do you have a duster, so that i may clean the board, in case if u want to write down the title..." the words were dying as "Miss" Haldar began turning towards the board, and the 57 pairs of eyes were twinkling in an anticipation of what was going to come...

Pankaj and his henchmen were sitting in some cool corner of 10C while haldar was shouting at the top of her voice, and when she saw that her threats were falling on deaf ears, she decided to take a harsh step. "Miss" Haldar called the then vice principal Fr. T M Joseph, whose office was next to our class. He followed Miss Haldar to help the damsel in distress. She told him “Dekhiye father kya likha hai!” Then she remembered that father TM could not read hindi, so she completed her own sentence “Aao, aur jane kya kya!” She did not want a roaring laughter to spoil the sympathetic attention that she had obtained from TM.

I don’t know if TM could understand the whole issue or not, but he croaked with a nasal twang (like a singer whose name sounds like mine) “Sooon heen ins the onnne!” I was feeling like Neo! And madame said “No sir! He helped me out, he is a good boy!!” Yes! I was saved. TM continued “If you people won’t tell, then you all will be suspended” Still no one budged. Who would have wanted to study when there was such a lucrative offer! So madam said in a final tone- “It’s over 10 C. You people have broken my heart!!” Tumne mere dil pe zakhm diye hain 10C, tumse ye ummeed nahin thi! to be accurate enough.

We all went out, with a great smile on our faces, thanking pankaj that he saved the day, atleast for handball, basky or TT.

In the later half, 8^th period, madam called us in the class. No one was interested to hear anything emotional, and seeing this, madam asked “By the way 10C, what is Damdami Maai?” Damdami Maai kya hota hai? One guy stood up and said “Miss, Chandrakanta mein jo Kalpana Iyer bani thi!!” the whole class burst out laughing, imagining the make up of Kalpana Iyer, with tonnes of Kajal laden eyes, weird colors smeared on the face and masculine voice shouting some mumbo jumbo! Just then pankaj stood shouting “arre jhooth mat bol, miss woh raja film mein madhuri jo bani thi na, wohi hai!!” Stop lying you! There was this role Madhuri did in Raja, this is what we tried to look into you! Whatever it was, damdami maai was a witch doctor, in both of these movies, and it was fun watching madam’s grim face!

Just then the bell rang and all the guys sang thaaaank youuuuu meeeees and ran away, except for me and gaurav. Gaurav used this opportunity to consolidate his position (or may be that he empathized with madam, I don’t know), and gave her a torn piece of paper in which he had written an apology on behalf of the whole 10C and I moved slowly, watching Haldar madam correcting that apology letter “Ufff! Badi ee ki jagah chhoti ee honi chahiye…. Yeh hua hraswa oo…”

Gud News, Bad News

2007-02-24T18:00:00.000+05:30

Claim: Yeah, i want the title to sound like Rich Dad, Poor Dad.
Now to the topic.

Today's newspaper caught my eye-

Some primate Pan troglodytes aka Chimpanzee was found to use tool- a wooden spear for hunting.

Good News.

Some days back i read-

Samjhauta Express (a train running across two countries India and her beloved neighbouring country) bombed, and a lot of passengers, mostly pakistanis, died.
Bad News.

Now that i have these two news in my hand (of which, one is about Bush- i mean Bushbabies) and this gives me some ideas. I know, dead peoples and dead primates should not be made fun of, but can't help.

Idea 1:
Noone has yet taken any responsibility for samjhauta express bombing. Then who is the villain of this whodunit mystery? I have a few options: Joker, Raghavan Datta, or perhaps the chimps. What would the chimps be discussing? I'd try to reconstruct the scene:

The wife comes running and panting, with a long branch in her hand, excited and shouting:
"Hey honey, look! I invented a spear!! What do i do with it?....."
Hubby- "Stop poking me with it! Use it for whatever else it suits you!!"
Wifey- "Ummmm... i could use it for poking you... and caning the babies..... Hey, I have an idea!! Why not use it to kill Bushbabies? They'd be a swell game for this new tool- mean machine!"
Hubby, now thoroughly agitated, decides to move to some quieter place (like the railway lines) to get rid of this banter, gets up and movies in some perpendicular direction and quips "Yeah, Use it for Bush babies, and meanwhile I go and bomb mushy baby."

Idea 2:
It should be seen as opportunity, i mean the hunting. Uncle Sam can now sell few more guns, this time to Animal Kingdom, and train them to kill and sharpshoot Bushbabies.

Idea 3:
The world is irresponsible, to remind us this, Indian Railways says "Sawdhani hati, Durghatna ghati" (roughly translates to "alertness avoids accidents"). This means that Lashkar- E - Toiba (LET) and its other business rivals are innocent this time, in fact, they always were, as i was informed by hindi movies which depict terrorists as heroes with some scarred past.
Could it be a possibility that they could have left a bomb back in the train, by mistake? This would mean a very unprofessional conduct from him, as his casual nature resulted in so many casualties. It was a waste, in a manner, that the bomb could be used for more gratifying experiences, like killing some Prime Minister, or, bombing some big statue, like they effaced it from the mountains in Afghanistan, or even passing time by playing catch- catch with it.
Perhaps the bomber dude was not aware that billions of people in the world haven't even heard a blast, forget feeling a live bomb next to their skin. In an underpriviledged world like this (where the chimps are just using a stick, and calling them a spear in front of reporters), it was prodigal and extravagant on his part.

Anything for Ananda

2007-02-14T19:56:00.000+05:30

---- End of Concept 1: What an IITian does ----

We all live for ananda. Britannica too has an entry for Ananda as

First cousin and disciple of the Buddha. A monk who served as the Buddha's personal attendant, he became known as the “beloved disciple.” It was Ananda who persuaded the Buddha to allow women to become nuns. By tradition, he was the only intimate disciple of the Buddha who had not attained enlightenment before his master's death; he attained that state just before the first Buddhist Council (c. 544 or 480 BC), when he recited from memory the Sutta Pitaka. He is represented as the author of several Buddhist discourses.

It is for the ultimate ananda and enlightenment that love is needed. Psychologists, Scientists and thinkers think alike. There is another sect which thinks on the same track, the couples, regardless of longitudes.

Scientists have found this compound anandamide, aptly named for its ananda producing effect, in chocolates. It is found to give a lot of pleasure to otherwise bored and sleepy neurons.

Recently, i was sitting in the field of my insti, with my friend, as usual boasting about the big things the IITians preferred to do (Students of Institute of Indian Technology never find themselves interested doing in small things, they are not God of Small Things, they simply are God of Big Bang).
I continued about the recent MMS scandal which happened, in which the main protagonists, the children of some Desi Pr0n School acted for some 2: 30 minutes and then they fizzed out, like the fuse of a bomb. The fuse is equally important, those who celebrate diwali must be knowing the plight of a bomb blighted due to moist and damp fuse. So, just unlike the bomb in question, they did their part of acting before the (mobile) camera with utmost sincerity. The rest of the news kept on singing about how an IITian got that MMS on computer, and how he managed to sell it for just 18K to some e- shop (which had an IITian CEO) and why both of these IITian kangaroos leaped into a trap. They are said to have even shared the same cell in jail too! (It is already a hell of a trouble in our halls, sharing a single seater room with another person who is not a girl) . This will be a superfluous to write that this couple (not the hero and heroine) suddenly shot to fame with their larger than life ideas. Big Shots. Big Shits.

A few years back, when i was in my second year, i read in a newspaper that one fresher of IIT Delhi lodged an FIR against his seniors. He insinuated them for ragging that poor soul. What did they do? They asked him to perform some Elvis Presley -like movements (albeit in some other sense). This inconsiderate chap never thought for a second about the ananda the seniors would have got, had he condescended to act as per their humble requests. The guy could be confused too, because they told him to watch a video lecture on this issue too, better known as Pondy amongst IITians. This is the best way to revise our class notes, as it enlightens us on more earthly anandas and in this process rejuvenates the young, genius and creative minds of tired souls. This issue quickly lost its air because of some unknown reason. It was the only exceptional case where the main protagonists did not rose to fame like some V Gupta, Vinod K., A Malhotra, Steve Jobbs (or Bill gates for that matter).

This time, my best buddy Raka called me on Valentine's day to tell me that some IITian, again this time from IITD, got caught selling Drugs in Salt Lake City, Kolkata. I was more than happy to hear that he made some quick crores before getting nabbed by our intelligent police. It was for good that i got my doubt clarified that the druggists did not peddle drugs. Thank you dad for it! Otherwise i would have sympathised with that great man. He could find a way to stupefy government is a commendable job. Last, it was some Gurukant Desai who did this kind of thing (in his case, importing unauthorised machines) with Indian government, for his own profit (important fact: he did not donate a single paisa for any welfare job, which meant that he was interested in the returns only) and later compared Gandhi with himself in patriotism. I have full faith in this senior of mine that sooner or later (which would be decided by Barasat Court, Kolkata, how sooner it will be) this man is going to be another Guru, if not, at least another Mahatma Gandhi for sure, because he is now liberating the clichéd soul of an average earthling, by giving him the formula of ethereal ecstacy (and in case the police adds a few chemical names in the list, and i'm sure it's not anandamide), who knows what tree will germinate from this seed, for, every today is tomorrow's yesterday.

The word IITian itself is scale- monumental...

My friend patiently heard my independence day's lecture (she gives me a good audience, this is what gives me ecstacy, that someone is there to hear my logic!) and finally replied, sweetly and yawning, Chand kitna pyara hai na! To which i replied with passion Haan, Bahut pyara hai! Certainly, sitting with her in the rough grass (which certainly never seems spikey when i'm with her), my hormones give me the Ananda which one of my respected profs (frust of another respected senior prof's undecayed enthu about visiting buildings for architectural studies at 9 o' clock night) called as The Orgasmic Pleasure.

Lijjat Papad and My Childhood

2007-02-06T13:20:00.000+05:30

"Knowing something is good. Knowing something better is even better." -- A Great Man.

I used to see the Hare eating a Papad in the television and imagine, how great! To eat a fried papad was a treat to me and seeing this part of the ad was the most refreshing (as compared to the other agriculture related programs on that channel) part. My memories of that era are all black and white- not my fault, for they did not have Red, Green, Blue Electron guns in the Tube of TV then. I kept my attempts to derive my enjoyment from that bunny rabbit for a few years till i reached class seventh.

In Class seventh, i once saw that Diwakar (one of my rivals and friends) was engrossed in some big sized, but thin book in the bus. It had an emblem of a rabbit wearing a bow tie and blazer as the watermark, with some anatomical description of human body. It seemed to interest Diwakar (anything related to the opposite gender interested him). I, in my innocence, asked him, what is this that you are reading, friend? Still glued to this book, he said, Tere kaam ka nahin hai, relax kar! I wondered what it was, which had an emblem of a Handsome bunny on it! I poked him again, he said it's some magazine which I'm reading, so do not disturb me, buzz off! For reference, we will call it Diva's Mags.

With this sentence, the curiosity in me was raised. I decided to find this out by myself, whatever it takes. Because i did not want to be second to him in any field, so i went to my dad and asked him Which book is it which has a rabbit as it's emblem? He looked into some vacuum and replied back, It was one of the magazines which I used to read in my childhood, it is a very old magazine, even your Nani ji too might have read it! I was shocked to hear that because I did not know that my dad was so frank about this issue!
Wide eyed, I played my move- I asked him, Papa, can you bring this magazine today, while coming back from office? He said Yes, sure!

In the evening, he came back, and handed me the Chandamama...!

My dad is a simple person, and yes, from that time onwards, I have been reading chandamama and eating Lijjat Papad.

The rabbits have been playing an important role in my life. When my landlord went on hunt and brought some rabbits and when I ate the meat, I could not stop myself from uttering the eulogies for the creature which was going in my stomach bit by bit. I now can understand perhaps that was why the Shri Mahila Gram Udyog put that animal as the logo. A delicious thing eating another palatable item is a simile: This papad is as delicious as rabbit meat. So did that Diwakar's Magazine promised by putting up a side picture of a hare, A magazine with Meaty and Fleshy pictures, which surely will make your mouth water!

What i could not understand is the motivation of Publishers of Chandamama putting up that animal in their magazine. What i can speculate is that they wanted to tell that the bunny signifies that the magazine is perhaps equally moving (albeit in some other direction) like its foreign counterpart Diva's Mags, and the carrot it is eating signifies that it is completely vegetarian unlike it's American cousin. And how does the Papad relate to itself here in this barbecue of magazines? This is what i am still trying to figure out!

A Tribute to Mr. Kumar

2007-02-04T14:23:00.000+05:30

Recently one of my friends showed me this video and i fell laughing on the floor. It reminded me of someone from my tragic past.

Long ago, there lived a Ramapithicus, who after toiling competed a nerdy exam called as Insane Institute of Tech-no-logy Jocund Exit Exam (which chose many nerds are chosen countrywide and remoulded into walking comedy machines who can test the patience level of an average human soul) came to an institute which earlier served as a concentration camp of britons (here the naughtiest brains of pre-Independence India were brought and they were entertained to their fullest, throughout their stay). There, in the first day, standing in the registration row, he met the first human being, which told him the it too hailed from the same state. Talking in common language hindi, our hero Ramu (short for ramapithicus) got a signal that this guy was amiable. He did not know that this guy, called Rakesh Kumar aka Vicky_4147 (his yahoo! id), was going to be his best friend for next 5 years.

Raka is the most beautiful guy of our batch, quipped a guitarist of our batch, which could simulate the drum beats with its annoying hissing sound (it thought it to be cool). And definitely, in tandem with his testimonial, girls fell for Rakesh like cut trees. It was some aura of his persona that attracted girls like flies near a trash. Ramu doesn't mean wrong, but the flies and cockroaches make an inevitable simile. One such damsel fell for Rakesh and quite naturally, Rakesh too fell for it, as he was without any other option, in the forest, alone with a girl much powerful than its frail body. Ramu still remembers the date, it was the 27th of month of September when the poor lass fell for it. The days were passing by, and the sems crossed, and gradually Raka preferred to pass more and more time with the young lady than his friends. A very genuine doubt kept echoing and resonating in the undeveloped mind of Ramu What do these two talk? Once he asked Raka Tu baatein kya karta hai itni der? If it is not very personal, then enlighten me! As far as i know you, you do not have any artistic mutations in your genes.
It replied, after a lot of blushing Current Affairs. So much for its affair. It was in the same year that it gave a presentation on ergonomics of thermometers. When i entered the class, i noticed that the class was in a bout of laughter. I really did not understand what had happened until the prof sang in its feminine tone Raakeysh, thees ees the Thermometer that yooo beelt? with thees beeg baalb? (Translated approximately in english, he meant Rakesh, is this the thermometer you built? With bulb this big?)

I being his closest friend had to cover his artistic sense with sentences like "Poor fellow, don't you know he is acutely color blind, that he can not see light colors. That's why he uses color combinations like Blue and magenta, or Red with Green and Turmetic Yellow". Humans kept on believing until Czacci (pronounced as Chaa'-chee) confirmed it from Raka, and Raka in all his pride went on explaining him that how i was lying about him, and how he liked that color combination. Next time i met Czacci, i had to explain it, grinning, that Raka will never accept that he is a color blind. It hurts. From now on, never ask him this, right? Czacci looked a bit thoughtful and confused and said a brief Ok. I knew this was a lame excuse, but at least, i was laughing, again in my heart that it was a great rumour that i could start, and most of the times, people fell for it, and talked in a bit soft tone with Raka. I could see the sympathy in their eyes, Raka saw the love for itself- just the shift of viewpoint!

The guy was clear at heart, but heart also has an art in it, and it was naturally clear in it. It was in the second year itself that we came to know about Rakesh's caliber in sketching matches. In the graphics and visual communications class, its prof opened the sketchbook of his to find a sketch of balloon brand matches. He exclaimed Everyone come here! Pointing to Rakesh it asked what is this Rakesh? The matchbox can not be so thin, and look at the matches, they can not be cut by their shadows, Re do it!
The next class was Pandora's box, we did not know what surprise was there for us. The prof started laughing this time, for Mr. Kumar (as one of the students Nimesh once named him during one of its presentations, to ask a doubt just for revenge's sake) had drawn a Horsehead brand Matchbox, with some alien dimensions which made the box matchless, and like last time, the matches did not exist after the shadowed part of matchbox. It was stupendous to see fat prof laugh, as his tummy giggled and after scratching its beard, it said Re do!
Third time, again a matchbox appeared, this time the prof boiled to his core and said Rakesh, how did you pass the Aptitude test for architecture? Forget being an Architect, you can not even become an engineer. Although i laughed in my heart at the misery of this poor thing, but i tried showing him my empathy and criticized the prof for his discouraging attitude towards the artistic youth of India.

It was in its final year that Rakesh finally secured a job at Yasu Enterprises at Hyderabad, a software company. Flying in the corridor, it got face to face with the prof. After a mutual exchange of Hellos and Good mornings, the Prof, now the HOD of Architecture Department, exclaimed Rakesh, I heard that you joined the Software industry, after all, architecture is not all about sketches...

Did not know the HOD that Rakesh, while designing a Windows window at Yasu, would choose a color combination of Blue and Brown, with big bold letters, making its boss squeak with horror as he would see its computer screen.

Raka felt great, not that it had avenged its humiliation in the second year, but because it was going to a field which was its favourite...

The Game

2007-01-13T14:54:00.000+05:30

The international clan of Mohammad the Gory, was coming to India to challange the champion team in a Counter strike match. The famous Mohammad was defeated by the champion team from Institute of Infinite Torture at Delhi, the clan of some P R Chauhan, who was then the Final Year student.

Once upon a time, in a land far far away from Kharagpur, in Institute of Infinite Torture Delhi lived a student named P R Chauhan. He was enrolled in that institute at very young age. There, in company of other students, his interest deepened into fighting, politics and especially the Hindi Literature classes (offered by the Humanities Department there). He scored very well in that subject and soon emerged as a new stud around the block. Everyone in the insti knew well about him, and in his third year, he also learnt counter strike, a very popular game. His clan soon emerged as the best clan in not only insti but the best amongst best in north India. Young Prithvi Raj had been a sharp mind and a bright student of Metallurgy department, and the proof of his mental agility could be seen during the game when he would frag the opponent in one on one matches, as it was the norm in IIT system to resolve any dispute. So in the fraggers' community of Counter Strike, his name was mentioned with respect. During his first year, he had to temporarily shift to some Hall named "Karakoram" where he came in contact with some new people who were MTechs, and learnt the art of Hearing- based- Sniping from them. He could now Frag anyone by a headshot, just by listening to their noise.

There was a girl in her second year, in Civil department, in the same insti, named Sanyogita, who was deeply impressed by the personality of this stud hero. She would keep on looking at him when he used to participate in Hindi Elocution, or Eastern Musical competition, and she would almost dance on his i- tunes of his electric guitar. It was now no more a secret from her friends that she was in love with Chauhan. The fragrance of love dissolved in air and PRC could smell it too, and he could see the feelings clearly in her big black eyes. And when he looked into them, he would forget all about his classes, and even his headshots, which pumped his adrenaline. The blood in the veins of this young couple was beginning to take it's rich redness from love. The hormones were mixing up in their minds, making a cocktail of emotions, which worked as saccharine to the environment, it was as if the time too had taken a break to watch the love bloom.

Prithvi Raj was a changed man now. He is no more the one who shot each one of the opponent's team and left the game, because he thought it would be condescending to shoot Mohammad when he was the only one left in the map. PRC did not like classes too, he would just skip and bunk them. Even the prof's threat of dereging him could not budge his love for his love. He and his ladylove would watch all the four shows in the PVR or Chanakya Theatre.

PRC was in his final year, and out of touch of CS, and so was his clan. This was the best opportunity for The Gory Clan to defeat the champions. So The Gory Clan challanged them in the Thomson fest of Roorkee insti.

There was a gory battle fought in the map of de_train, and the better amongst two, PRC clan emerged as a winner in the match by simply railing their opponents, with an announcement "Counter Terrorists Win!". It was this match which had fired the ambition of Mohammad to conquer the position which the winners held. Mohammad had practiced for the whole one year and he then again challanged the PRC guys. Although Chauhan was out of touch of the game but he accepted the challange by picking up his Magnum rifle. Shining it high, he shouted "PRC ka Tempo High Hai!" with that tempo shout, everyone chose their shotguns and Colts. It was a deciding match- The finals of the game fiesta. The One winning it will be christened as the "God" and the loser will bite the dust. The Lower middle of Screen showed countdown of 3 seconds, and everyone held their mice and keyboards ready in position. As soon as "Go, Go, Go!" sounded, everyone ran to his ammunition. They picked their choices up, there was no time to waste. The map of Snow was soon covered with the color of rising sun, the color of new era which was soon to dawn upon the game scenario of IITs. The radar in upper left corner of screen soon started getting empty of dots, for both the sides. The Gory gang was large in number and better prepared. They knew how much was the recoil of Colt and what was the advantage of Magnum over Scout. The team was ready for any eventuality, unlike PRC and his folks who were missing their shots, but the flying lead found them. They were unaware that the bullets could pass through walls. They were having a tough time at the labyrinthine map. After a long 250 seconds, Prithvi got surrounded by all the Terrorist Team of Mohammad The Gory. He stood still, thinking what to do, until he saw the radar on his upper left corner of screen. One other point blinked. How could that be! Who was he?

"Char bans, chaubis gaj, angul ashta praman, Ta upar sultan hai, Chuke mat Chauhan. Turn around dude, and get him!"

(Four measures ahead of you and twenty four yards away as measured with eight finger measurement, is seated the Sultan. Do not miss him now, Chauhan).

Shouted his depmate and lab partner Chand Bardai from next room. He was hiding in a higher position holding a magnum. As the Sultan Gory and his guys were in some other block of hall, so he could not hear this. He was busy celebrating his victory over PRC. PRC got the cue and turned, suddenly aimed him and shot him in his head with his Magnum. Mohammad could not dodge him and got hit. The Gory people could not understand what happened and before they could react, Chandu TK'd his partner Prithvi with his Magnum. Then he dropped the Granade on his position, where he committed suicide, preferring it than being sniped by a terrorist shot. The upper right corner of Screen read: "PRC headshot Mohd" "Chandu TK'd PRC" "Bomb" and lastly, the centre of the screen flashed "Terrorists win!" ____________________________________________________________________________________ Glossary:

Bomb- A mesasge flashes when one (by mistake/ experimentally) drops a grenade on oneself.
Clan- Team of Counter Strike.
Colt- A low recoil, good killing machine.
Counter Strike- The main aim of getting into IITs is to play this unique 300 seconds game, which makes pupils of IIT a real warrior. The main part of students' life goes into learning how to get 45 frags without getting killed oneself. Also known as CS. Old Indo- IITian lingo.
Dereg- The only way a prof can threaten a bored- to- death kid in his class to attend his torturous lectures. Ultimately from indo- IITian root deregister.
Frag- The number of kills. The bigger is this number, the better you are respected in the CS circle.
Headshot- The perfect shot in head, kills the victim instantly. It is something for the killer to brag about.
Magnum- A good sniping Rifle. Used by geniuses to kill other geniuses.
Map- the gaming location, like Snow, de_train, Box, etc.
Scout- A relatively poor sniping rifle.
Shotgun- A slow assault rifle.
Terrorists and Counter Terrorists- One of the two teams which play CS. Each has 16 players.
TK'd- Team Killed. Usually done to avenge for some crass action done by the teammate, or to lessen the frustness, or just for fun.

____________________________________________________________________________________ i say-
It is a disputable fact if Prithvi Raj killed Mohd. Gori in this heroic manner. An alternate view is that the last hindu ruler of Delhi was killed in the battle, fighting against the battle. It is this write up of his courtier and poet Chand Bardai which lives in the legend and continues to light up the blood of every generation. ____________________________________________________________________________________ Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prithvi_Raj_Chauhan

Of God, HOD and Donkey

2007-01-05T00:31:00.000+05:30

"Does God Play Dice?" asked a little kid from the donkey.

The Donkey nodded "yes sonny, he does, and we are thinking of pursuing him to play for inter hall bridge after a little training for our hall, Rama Krishna... though he is now an alumnus, but chalta hai!"

"Alumnus? You mean the God studied in the great Institute of Infinite Tests?"

"Yeah buddy, That's why he follows the IITian's way in everything (using the dice to decide the solutions of problems which unnecessarily bug him.)"
The neighborhood kid sat before the ass and passioantely looked at him, as if he expected him to tell him more about this mythical creature God.
The Donkey continued "Bible mein likha hai- God Created the world in 7 days. Billion years tak peace mara, aur fir ek week mein kuchh kuchh kar ke final plan submit kar dala world ka"
"And don't think anything else of "Let there be light" thing. It was the bulb of Topo Table which he wanted to switch on. Everything looks wonderful from surface, but inside- it's all chaos. Sara idea Makhau (hopeless) tha!", continued the Donkey.

The kid exclaimed "Yeah! i know, u mean all those droughts and floods and earthquake and whatever we read in the disaster management course. It was flaw in details, right?"

"Yupps Buddy, Meis Van Der Rohe said it right "God Lies In Details". He had to lie about it, because he did not know the details of this design project. So usne kisi aur duniya ka detail chhap dala"
"God ki Complain karo Hod (A creature named Head Of Department, Rhymes with God and behaves like one) se, usko Viva mein re lagvao!" the kid chirped.
"Can't do that- Hod loves God because he was a President's Gold Medalist", the donkey replied.
Donkey sighed "Actually it was all the mixup! Dev got caught copying god in the exam, so they suspended him for a semester, and this in effect caused his year lag...."

"Devil Failed once??" asked the wide eyed first year buddy.

"Yay! He failed not because he was copying, it was found later that he was copying, but because he was found carrying the mobile with him in the examination room. Actually original plan was this that God will Tapo the sessionals and Devil will chhaapo in the exam, but the Profs roaming in the exam room caught that poor thing!"

"Prof ne phansaya Dev ko?"

"Nahin re!"

"How do you know that? r u his avatar?"

"It is where I entered in picture. I sent that wretched MMS to Dev, and he had a look at it in the exam hall. It was "that famous" MMS. He got so excited that a squeal escaped from his larynx. Thus attracted by the force field, all the profs gathered there, ceased his mobile, and threw him out!

"Devil then called me- "tere chakkar mein load ho gaya, tujhe exam ke beech mein MMS bhejne ko kisne kaha tha!!!"
Since that was a very creative batch, so noone was interested in pursuing this field, so only candidate for the profession of master builder was god. and now, Dev was out of this game. Dev was completely frust that day after exam. After playing Age of Empires for 3 long hours with me did he return back to his own convivial self. Those sadist profs could not see a student feel orgasmic pleasure during this torure session!"

"to phir devil se mast dosti hai tumhari!"

"kya karte! god dry banda tha. devil chhedis tak aata tha. He and I used to smoke weed together. AOE khelna usi ne sikhaya tha. he was my "best senior""

"AOE kya hota hai? oops.. okok! age of empire" the kid exclaimed, realising his fault, "tubelight der se jali"

"devil patel mein rehta tha, god Lallu (Lala Lajpat Rai urf LLR) mein rehta tha and I was in RK (Ram Krishna). Dev was a cool dude and god, a maggu.
Dev played guitar in Western Technology Music Society and most of the girls in the institute secretly liked his flamboyant self- He was godly, people used to say, a real stud of Insti. I used to play keyboard and this is how i first came in his contact. God was a creature of other world, as he was least interested in all these. One could maximum expected a peg of Johny walker out of him. Dev and I pulled him into this- Wine and Women- thing.
God was liking his new self- he was unknown to this tingling feeling which numbed him. Girls pampered him and Vodka thrilled him. He kept on liking this new lifestyle until Grand Vivas came! GV was next day and surprisingly, god was unprepared. neend khuli GV ke ek din pahle. raat bhar jaag jaag ke kuchh kuchh mug liya- just crammed the crap taught in last 5 years. main aur devil pit kar aa gaye GV se, and god came out with flying colors. phod phad macha di bande ne!"
"But the worst was yet to come. There was only a week left in submission of B Tech Thesis. God was alerady psyched. Saare sem hamare chakkar mein padhayi ki hi nahin thi! Hum jaante the kaise choona lagana hai. God used butter instead of whitewashing his misdeeds...."

"Was God a milkman?"

"Why?"

"He must have had a lot of butter to apply to profs!"

The Donkey smiled, "... 5 saalon ke makkhan ka hi bharosa tha. humse poochha "kya karoon? load hai!". Dev said "taap de donkey ka project- he doesn't have odds in favour of passing this course in 5 years, anyways!" god ne mera thesis taap diya. My project was to build a petrol pump for Hindustan Petroleum...."

"oh.. to yeh jaldi jaldi mein kiya hua project tumne banaya tha!"

"Yeah! God simply replaced HP label from it and put a Galaxy Label there. Dev had a bad drwg. He finally made wht u mortals call as hell. banana to usko childrens park tha lekin usko bhi kisi aur ka thesis mil gaya tha!
Anyways, It was the time for thesis viva- First in the list was god. He came, aur usne funde maar diye, prof to pehle se buttered the, prof makkhan ki tarah pighal gaye!
Next was Dev. As soon as profs saw his thesis, Hod gave a shreik- it was his thesis that wretched soul had copied! apne thesis ki durgati dekh ke HOD pagal ho gaya "Get Out!!!" and Dev followed the trajectory made by his thesis.
It was my turn.
HOD ne dekha- This Time, Petrol Pump was written in place of Galaxy
HOD bola "copy maar diya GOD se? You are worse than Dev!" then he fell on the table and uttered the word "G-e-t O-u-t!" I then realised he had a heart attack. I wanted to give him brine solution to quicken his heavenly transfer, but god was quick. He ran to the deadly B C Roy Hospital in our campus, where they gave him some expired medicine and that saved our Hod"
"HOD aur GOD ke chakkar mein main pis gaya. neki kar aur dariya mein kood. Hod failed me for eternity. Every IITian has this sense of copying that he improves upon the errors of original document, but god did not know the art of copying, so he copied the errors too.
Then came exams and i forgot to take exams because the earlier night, and the exam day too, i was busy playing the deathmatch in Age of Empires and it was at a thrilling position, so i could not leave the game. It completely slipped out of my mind."

"mms bhejna nahi bhoole the, hai na?"

"Sab kuchh kaise bhool jaate? MMS was sizzling at that time! Dev told me- "God pen jhaad jhaad ke likha exam mein! use exam mein doubt bhi ho gaya! uth ke prof ko bolta hai ki question mein error hai! ask someone to check it! main frust ho gaya!!" he was partially amused and partly sad about it that he was thrown out in that German exam while god kept on scribbling. It was then it struck me that i missed my German exam!"

"so r u going to pass this year?"

"yea! The hod got changed before eternity. New reign and new rules. This new Hod has made exctensive arrangements to pass me." And the Donkey smirked.
____________________________________________________________________

A Few Quotes:

"We are Gods" --IITians
"I am IITian" -- God
"Six Point Somebody!" -- Devil
"What the Hell is that?" -- HOD on seeing the B Tech Project of Devil (The Hell), realising it is an exact photocopy of his thesis!
"What on Earth is that?" -- Dev on seeing the god's project of Petrol pump labeled as Planet Earth.
"I am still an IITian!" -- Me
"Abe tu bhi pass karega kabhi!" -- Dev, on me.

____________________________________________________________________

God took the GRE test and went for higher studies. He excelled in the art of copying and copied his Bachelor's project in masters, removing all the errors, and renaming it as "The Heaven". His project got The Best Project Award in the whole MIT campus. No emails from him.

Dev took CAT test and went into IIM Calcutta, Joka. He is famous there too. And he has excelled in bunking classes there. Writes to me sometimes.

Is baar jadavpur uni ke ek bande ki thesis mili hai, vahi chhapunga, main bhi pass karunga is saal!
___________________________________________________________________

Further References:

Bible
Five Point Someone
Banister Fletcher
http://uncyclopedia.org/wiki/IIT

Happy New Year

2007-01-01T00:21:00.001+05:30

I wish You a Happy and Prosperous New Year!

Regards,
NImesh

We Are Our Desires.

__________________________________________________
Do You Yahoo!?
Tired of spam? Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around
http://mail.yahoo.com

The evening when i was railed....

2006-12-21T17:07:00.000+05:30

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

2006-10-29T17:46:00.000+05:30

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!

2006-05-13T02:44:00.000+05:30

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:

We do have some student's scheme which allows a rebate of 50% in fees for registrations.
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).
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.
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.
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.
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

2006-05-11T15:09:00.000+05:30

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

2006-05-06T22:19:00.000+05:30

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):

She (It) should be a treat to talk about! I should be able to brag about her (it) in my friend circle.
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).
She should be be strong willed and independent, it should be strong rooted (you know what i mean) and highly independent.
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!).
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!!)
Both must understand my weird passions and liking/ files in life/ comp, which I may/may not share.
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

2006-05-04T01:15:00.000+05:30

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

2006-05-02T19:02:00.000+05:30

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

2006-05-02T01:36:00.000+05:30

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:

Grab the book nearest to you, turn on page 18 and find line 4.After end semesters, i suddenly become the illiterati...
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!
What is the last thing you watched on TV?Kahani Grrr Grrrr Ki!
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!
With the exception of the computer, what can you hear?
Anything as long it is not my girl(dog)friend's voice
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!
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.
What are you wearing?
i believe in natural dresses, These days, it's the banana leaves.
Did you dream last night?
I dreamt that Prabhu ji came and asked me my secret wish, and he granted it in a flash!
When did you last laugh?
I'm hysterical about laughter.
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.
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!)
What is the last film u saw?
Gunda, followed by Chingari (Gunda is more like Bournvita, makes me strong to fight everyday evils.)
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.
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!)
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

2006-02-25T10:45:00.000+05:30

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.