The Tummy Story

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

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

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 tolerate."

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

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

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

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

---- 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

"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

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

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

"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:

1. Bible
2. Five Point Someone
3. Banister Fletcher
4. http://uncyclopedia.org/wiki/IIT
   

Happy New Year

I wish You a Happy and Prosperous New Year!

Regards,
NImesh

We Are Our Desires.

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The evening when i was railed....

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