San(')s Sanity

Wednesday It was almost time. Two sets of interviews had already passed and for some even more. And they were taking its toll on all the eleven of them. He looked around at these familiar faces and saw the nervousness etched on their otherwise placid countenances. He was anxious too. He smoothened his blue “psychedelic” tie, as it was later referred to. He didn’t like ties too much. Soon enough, a representative ushered them in to announce the final results. An inevitable note of the ostensible difficulty faced by the interviewers ensued. Get on with it, he thought to himself. Then, he saw it. Clenched delicately in the speaker’s hand. His name, written in black, through the translucent white slip of paper, in its untarnished entirety. He didn’t have to wait for the official read. He was elated and overjoyed but only breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Later, he shook hands with the others, throughout maintaining his cool. He even remembered to congratulate the other two, B

*Click* I was tapping my fingers softly on the table as I waited for the messenger to load. If the net was fast, it usually signed in quite quickly but unfortunately today it was taking its sweet time. I glanced into the adjacent mirror and adjusted my rather unkempt hair. As soon as it signed in, I searched for her name in the buddy list. Dejected on noting the absence, I decided to check my mail. She’ll be online soon, I consoled myself. She said so herself, I reassured. Five minutes later, I was relieved when I heard the familiar sound of someone signing in. Me: Hi di! Priya: Hey da, how are you? Me: I’m fine. You? Priya: Me too. Me: Good. So wassup? Priya: I just finished seeing American Beauty… Me: One of my most favourite films. Did you like it? Priya: Yeah! I really liked it… Me: Super… Priya: But there was one dialogue I didn’t like though… Priya: As in, I don’t think it was correct. Me: Which one :-/ Priya: Well,

"Molly, do you believe in witches and wizards?", asked Ken, rather nonchalantly, as they sat down on a bench overlooking the placid Lake Trepton. "Witches? Wizards? What do you mean?", retorted Molly , as she turned towards him, with a quizzical look on her face. "Well, like those in the classic movies. The Lord of the Rings. Harry Potter. Chronicles of Narnia." "I suppose I don't believe them. I mean, I would like to believe..." Keb interrupted her, "Pity. Wouldn't it be rather cool if they true? The creatures, the mystical artifacts, all those stuff in the books..." "Books? I thought you were talking about some movies?" "Molly dear, all of them are books made into movies. Surely you have read the books?" "No, I havent. I have seen all the movies though. I really like the Lord of the Rings trilogy..." "That is quite sad. You haven't read the books? Those masterpieces of literature. Their a

I really am surprised. The invisible wings of time have flown past at such a ridiculous speed. It seems like yesterday that when my brief sojourn to Bangalore ended and the first day of the seventh semester dawned. Just yesterday. But truth is, yesterday was indeed the last day of this semester. to quote a somewhat intelligent man, "When you are courting a nice girl an hour seems like a second. When you sit on a red-hot cinder a second seems like an hour." This semester wasn't like the last. It was much more mellow. Almost eventless. But it was highly enjoyable for myriad reasons. To quote a few, the endless hours devoted to Morpheus, the hypnotic sweet intoxicating smell of rain which was nearly a daily feature, the initial enthusiasm in the wonderful game of Poker, Quake Quake Quake, the nonchalant attitude of yours truly and most of his associates and confederates towards anything which remotely reminded one of academics, Movies Joey Bleach Movies Anime Movies :P, writ

I have an exam tomorrow. A pass-fail one. Short Story Classics. Brilliant, right? Wait, there's more. On top of this, we are already given the only two questions which are going to come in the exam. More or less. Yes, and out went the enthu to read anything for the exam. But then, no other avenue to vent my otherwise inherent boredom meant that I finally did make it to reading something for the exam. We had to do an analysis of any one of the many authors we had discussed in class. On the style of writing of the author. Naturally, as any other self-respecting person with self-diagnosed Incurable Lethargy of Body and Mind, I googled one of the authors, whose work (and more so, name) kind of appealed to me. He somehow reminded me of Somerset Maugham with his elaborate descriptions and the beautiful use of adjectives, ever so perfectly, ever so aptly. Alas, his actual works were not in English and I have but read translations. Moreover, his stories were hardly the gripping suspense or

A 55 word story is such a daunting but at the same time alluring task. Having failed to convey a complete story in 1000 words, here I am trying to pen one which is 20 times smaller. Hopeless. That too exactly 55 words... Initially I thought about writing a title too but then was unsure if I should include the title in the word count, for you see the title plays a vital role for any story. The title is the primary tool which grabs people's attention much like the essential beautiful model in any advertisement. They are there to merely attract people, much like the title of the story. But in the end, why bother myself with the controversy of adding one. So the stories are titleless. Modelless. 4 x 55 = 220. “ Germany ’s most sensational serial killer strikes again… “ (A few hours earlier) “Guten Morgen, my name is Roger”, said the man dressed in an Armani suit, as he approached a gorgeous woman dressed in black. “Hi, my name is Lisa”, she replied, as she r

Personally I dont like this story but for want of time and the creativity to come up with an idea to write a post, I decided to use a short story which we had to submit as an assignment. Bear in mind the stringent 1000 word limit which clearly sucked the life out of my otherwise decent storyline. Come to think of it, it really wasn't even a decent storyline in the first place. Heck, you be the judge of this crap. If you're still here even after the warning I just gave you, I can but pity you. And yes, feel free to attack me with sticks, stones and words. I will definitely join in. To have loved and lost Priya was growing more and more beautiful. I was only thinking of her these days and it didn’t help that every class I attended she was there. Her long enticing florid black flowing hair. Her mysterious dark brown eyes. Her irresistible innocent smile which brought forth her perfect cherubic dimples. But then every time I thought of telling her how I felt, I went spee

I had just finished seeing the movie, Y Tu Mama Tambien when I decided to visit my erstwhile favourite spot in the hostel, the top of the mess. The moon was unusually bright today like one which can be visualized in most romantic stories, underneath which two faithful lovers propose their undying affection for each other. From a purple haze just above the trees canopying our extensive campus, the sky changed colour rather slowly as it mellowed into a more somber blue. Blue or a bluish black. It was quite a clear night. Alas, I couldn’t see too many stars in the sky. Rather contradicts my earlier observation about it being a clear sky. In any case, there was just this ominously white lunar disk accompanied by some solitary twinkling stars. The world is rather silent at around two in the morning. Most of the birds and animals seem to be asleep while the nocturnal ones are remaining awake albeit very quiet. A distant laugh can be heard and I presume it’s a group of students

This is a tag from Monsieur Cock. Basically its a story coauthored by like a million people which will hopefully get a decent ending in our lifetime. The rules to the "game" are listed at the end of the post. Initially I thought this was going to be quite trivial. But hey, conveying your ideas in just 90-100 words isn't that easy. Anyways, I like the way this story is going... ----- He thought it would be an ordinary journey. Standing behind the pillar he watched the train snort arrogantly into the station. With each snort he was reminded of his grandfather's words "You will fail in the city and return penniless"; with every heavenward whistle, he heard his cousin, "Don't worry. Come here and I will get you a job at the construction site." Now he had a 34-hour journey to prove one of them wrong, and he expected the excitement at the end of the journey. He looked at his ticket once again: compartment S9 berth 23. Pushing his luggage under the se

I was recently tagged by my dear friend Dasan to write 20 points about myself. A simple task, you say? Hahah, I say. But then that's probably because I can't too anything just as simple as it sounds. It has to be unique. It has to have the Helmet touch! (0) I talk too much. Clearly I am quite egotistic and I know it. As if I care. Onwards then. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dave was waiting for fifteen minutes now. "I have something important to tell you, come to the beach immedaitely".He heard her voice as he replayed the message over and over in his head. He was growing more and more anxious since the minute hand was nearing 12. "Hi". He turned around only to see a friendly face but not the one he was waiting for. "Richard, Hi. What are you doing here?" (1)"Well, I absolutely love the sunrise and the sunset. Sunsets more actually. It somehow makes me feel so peaceful." "Oh I see."

I couldn't sleep. Like always. But that didn't bother me. Because neither could she. You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be , and I don't want to go home right now... She was thinking. Lost in thought. Staring straight into my eyes, she frowned. Ah, she did look oh-so-beautiful when angry. Her smooth skin making gentle ripples on the calm sea of her forehead. Her inquisitive light brown eyes moving ever so slightly as her eyelids fluttered as if they were in slow motion. Her jet black hair flowing lusciouly onto her shoulders, neither too short, nor too long. It was just perfect. She was just perfect. She asked, "What would you do if all this was only a dream? If I was nothing more than a figment of your imagination and all this a cruel drama of your subconscious? What would you do?" I was speechless. I didn't know what to say. I asked " You really want to know?", fully knowing she did. Perhaps I was just buying time. Thinking of the

Chennai was blessed with copious rainfall for the last 2 days thanks to a cyclonic depression, which by the way according to the remarkable meteorologists here, was supposed to cross the coast today. Needless to say, the sun has seen shining as bright as , umm, a sun on a summer day. But the intoxicating rain coupled with the rather inane curfew on the institute LAN between 1 and 4 am has made us part of society's new avant-garde intelligentsia. Umm, yeah. Atleast out of me... I am often asked as to why I don't wish to carry on with further studies abroad. Why don't I aspire to land up in some prestigious University like a MIT or a Stan to do a Masters or a PhD. Why is it I would rather stay back in India and do a MBA or take up a job. But I am confused. For to me, the question is but the opposite. The intricacies in the size of the address lines of a D-RAM memory unit of the 1 GB Main Memory or the supposed joy of discovering obscure fathomless results in the Approximate C

After a rather tiring, uninsipring and uninformative, so basically useless, trip to Loyola to attend a seminar after the mock CAT, I first had to put up with a imbecilic call taxi driver who was probably driving for the very first time in Chennai . Nearly a hour after we started, I reached the hostel, all worn out and frutrated (both from the original mock CAT and the somnolent lecture). Straight for the mess for lunch. I left the question paper and the answer key outside the mess, having not evaluated my performance as yet. When I returned, they were gone!!! Who the fuck will want to steal a question paper? Which idiot would do it rather than just asking someone who wrote the paper? Lunacy... But then I decided to calm myself. And analyse the situation. Find the culprit. Whodunnit? My crazy imagination, some added creativity, no commonsense and the kitchen sink later, these were the cases I came up with. Somehow I don't think any of them fit the bill... The action movie scenario:

Thats just a random quote by Homer Simpson. Nothing great but the fact is its random. There is a rather obscure movie called Pi. The theme of the movie goes something like the world is made up of patterns. Patterns in everything. And the protogonist goes on to undercover a supposed pattern in the number pi and hence cracks some universal code which allows him to predict the future. Well, the movie sucked. Atleast between the parts I crashed what I saw was neither interesting nor thought-provoking. However, its the theme that made me think. Basically what it meant was that everything is predetermined and happens deterministically. That is to say, no randomness. Think about a world with no randomness. That is, the supposed world according to the astrologers and fortune-tellers. Everything is already decided. Its just waiting for time to catch up to happen. Which is soo wierd. This means we have Absolutely no control over what is going to happen. No control over when you're going to w

I never thought I would say this but it has indeed happened. I, who have shunned Shaastra and everything associated with the supposed grand techfest, am coming to miss this blessed event for as of today I shall never get to savour another Shaastra as a IITian student. ( *Fingers crossed * :P) In my mind, Shaastra was always associated with some things. The first thing that I think about when someone says Shaastra is a group of 20 year olds wearing old dirty tshirts and even dirtier jeans having a heated discussion about the use of transisters and op-amps while constructing a robot which can self-manouerve itself through some obstacle course. And since we're dealing with IITians maybe even a humanoid robot capable of ummm...things. I'm not refuting the validity of the statement as of yet, but initially that was all I could think of. Another thing I correlate with Shaastra is RKK. Don't ask, won't tell. (Don't know!?!) Slowly as the years progressed, (umm there were b