San(')s Sanity

Surreal

2006-05-29T00:29:00.000-07:00

Magnificent are the thundering antlers of the mysterious stag
Oats and barley, golden fields, invigorating too
Rare be such beauty, admire, that man dares to
Ere you speak, take time to read every letter, every word
Lest jest sometimes makes peacocks of a macaw
Even maelstrom or tempest occasionally looks lo
Fruits no longer edible directly; what are they best for
To eat or excite, to feel or delight?! ok

“Leave! Now! “, I bellowed at the gorgeous blonde in front of me, as I forced her into a taxi. She looked at me with large innocent brown eyes, searching for some semblance of pardon, love or even hope. She had been forgiven. I think. But I had never loved her. I think. And there was no hope for her. I think.

“Your mouth speaks a language unintelligible to your heart. You don’t actually want me to leave, do you?” she questioned, raising her eyebrows and smirking simultaneously. I sneered. “I don’t care for you; I never did. I just used you. Like everyone else”, I lied. She could see it too. But she knew I didn’t want her around. Not now.

She fished out a cigarette and a solitary match from her overburdened purse and handed them to me. I didn’t ask her any questions but hastily smuggled them into my coat to avoid contact with the rain, which was coming down fast. Just as I was doing so, she took her time to slap me hard on my face and in the mean time, also commented on the good shoes I was wearing. I blinked. The rain drops were falling hard but they paled in comparison to her mighty strike. I just blinked.

The taxi left. And she too. I went in.

The ambience was soothing. The place was crowded as usual, but there were still some empty spots near the bar. I walked up to one, all drenched and wet. A young smiling girl greeted me from the other side. I asked for a vodka, double, on the rocks. Quizzically she asked me what the matter was, troubling her brilliant green eyes. I forced a contrived grin and remained silent. She repeated her query hoping I hadn’t heard it the first time. This time I replied, “Honey, maybe some other time.” Unperturbed she handed me my drink, with a napkin on which she had scribbled with her pink lipstick what I assumed was her number. I looked up but she was gone. Clichéd as what she did was, I promised myself I would call her later. There was something about her black dress.

I downed the drink in a single flowing motion. As the heat traveled through my parched throat, I stood up to do what I had come to do. The music was slow and quiet. With the worst face I had, I looked onto the unsuspecting audience and yelled at the top of my voice, “Now, I need an answer to a question.” I gave almost no time for anyone to so much as even come up with an opinion as I persisted in full earnest, rather raucously. “We can do this my way…” I purposely paused. Dramatically. Waiting for some dolt to stand up. To threaten me. I got what I was looking for.

“Your way? Or else what?”, bawled a scruffy looking thug. He had a conceited leer on his face. I was excited, as I took out my semi-automatic, flaunting it around, as I tilted my head and said, “My way. Period.” The thug fell flat onto his plate, as a bullet pierced right through the centre of his temple. His companion, a zaftig, heavily-plasticized, hideously over-powdered woman shrieked and almost fainted. I continued with a somber resolute countenance, “Where is the door? The door out of Egypt?” A tall, scrawny, middle-aged fellow got up quickly and pointed towards what looked like an inconspicuous elevator. Soon, his body was to be found sprawled on the floor. I hated cowards.

By the time I reached the elevator, almost everyone had emptied the place with an Olympic enthusiasm. The door seemed to be locked and on top of that, a huge sinewy Hercules of a man wedged himself between me and the door. He was wearing a black suit, with a purple tie, and shades to match his ensemble. He clenched his teeth together and grunted. He caught my hand and rubbished away my weapon. I sighed and kicked his stomach.

He didn’t like it. Clearly. He retaliated with an array of wallops, whacks and boots. I was in pain. But I couldn’t have made it so far just to fail. I couldn’t have done all that I have done just to get beat up by this monster. I couldn’t and wouldn’t. So, in that adrenaline-filled moment, I caught his oversized head and brought it down hard, face first, onto my knee. And again. And again. His blood trickled onto the floor. He passed out.

I rummaged his body for the keys. I found them along with a button and a stick of gum. I reclaimed my gun, and opened the door. The door out of Egypt. Just as I stepped through the door, I remembered the cigarette. I took it out and placed it cozily between my lips. The lone match I had was struck against the sole of my now dried up shoes. I had remembered her words. I lit the cigarette and left the place. For good.

Links

2006-05-22T20:04:00.000-07:00

Won't you forget about me? For the ignorant, that's from the soundtrack of an amusing movie I happened to see last night. Breakfast Club. Lovely movie. Like Syriana, which also I watched (albeit for the second time) yesterday.

I had planned to get my final report done or the No Dues process started. Safe to say neither task got done and hence procrastinated to today. So much of work to do, and I actually feel sleepy and bored. Sleepy but not sleepworthy sleepy. Its complicated.

"I knew that I wanted to do my best. In the extreme weather conditions, I kept my nerves to get the quota. " Thus spake Rathore, the double trapper. Unfortunately, I happened to just read the last part and assume he too is voicing his opinion on the current reservation typhoon hitting our country. Baboons we have in New Delhi running the operations. Thank God for some intelligent souls like Narayana Murthy.

I am strongly against the reservation system using castes. I am strongly for reservation based on economic status. Apparently there are things called creamy layer limitations that ought to be applied. Jargon picked up from Mom. Much apologies.

Talking about jargon, I was asked to read this story from a book whose name went something like "Like Father, Like Son" or something. The actual name refuses to remember itself. Anyways, from this collection of short stories, there is one in which a father character insists on entertaining himself by only involving in conversations using obscure and rather clumsy words. Like gloaming. And felicitations. And panoply. And he does so only when with his family because he lives an otherwise insipid life treating sore bones. Clearly, some draw a parallel between me and him. Hmph.

In the midst of serious GMAT preparation (read 3 days... :P), I chanced upon a brilliant thought. Heard of the game Cows and Bulls? If you haven't you should google it or look it up in Wikipedia. Which parallel universe are you from!!?! I was thinking about the game, when I realised how (and why) Cows stand for what they stand for (insecurity, unreliability and uncertainty) vs what Bulls stand for (definiteness, exactness and confidence, may be even certitude). Not getting the bigger picture? Female vs Male? Yes? No? Whatever.

Unless you are blind, or rather not believe in visual proof, or both (or perhaps you are a bat?), you might have realised that I am using links. Woohoo. No reason. Just looks nice.

That reminds me. (How?) My Viva got done sometime last week. A trivial affair it turned out to be. Apart from a couple of laughs. Like the time when one guy making a simulation of robotic learning made use of sonars and was asked why the physical representation wasn't a radar. Or how one guy talked a la Politician garnering votes for his party ishtyle. Yes yes, all very situational comedy. Pity.

So much to do today. I should be sleeping and resting for the big day of No Duesing. Tsk tsk.

C'est la vie

2006-05-14T02:06:00.000-07:00

I was sitting in my home listening to CDs of my father's college reunion music, so basically the 70s. I was amazed. For the songs weren't obscure esoteric songs long forgotten by time. Nay. They were in fact the very songs I have been listening to these 4 years at IIT. Come Together (Beatles), Have You Ever Seen The Rain (CCR), Smoke Over Water (Deep Purple), Imagine (John Lennon), Annie's Song (John Denver) and other such wonderous songs. Again, and again.

Has music not transgressed the Rocking Seventies? Sure, there have been other bands (Read Cold Play) who have made their mark since three decades ago but nothing to the tune of the classics. I suppose, for me, ever since I was introduced to Simon & Garfunkel, ever so long ago, there was no looking back.

Or maybe, this is more an endemic thing. To the insti. For once I was asked a question pertaining to my musical tastes. I was asked as well as B (Cummander B). Both of us had answers which revolved around bands atleast 20 years old. To which a wry smile greeted us. So as to mean, yeah, you guys will never change. Stuck in a time warp, musically atleast. After all, apart from that, we are the leading consultants for fashion, sports and the arts. (The important word in the previous sentence started with a c.)

Talking about music, I was watching our beloved octogeniran Chief Minister swearing into office on TV when all the millions of ministers on stage as well as the teeming crowds in the packed auditorium rose for what I presumed would be the National Anthem. I was mistaken. They played some tamil song and from the scarce words I could pick up (and understand) it was some song glorifying the Tamil language and the Tamil Land (Tamil Nadu). Brilliant it was. Melodious. Mellifluous. And such. I was impressed. (Later, I was informed that it was the song of the Tamil Nadu Government? or something like that. The name eludes my memory).

That was just proof that I am trying to keep in touch with current events, now that, I was indirectly (and directly) told that I would have to, if I were to have any semblance of a meaningful conversation with my colleagues and seniors at The Firm. I read Page 3 and the Sports. I have to improve. Mentally Noted.

In short, this is a post to say that thanks to the concerns of all my well-wishers, fellow bloggers and the other equally unfortunate souls that read my blog, I will continue blogging. But almsot surely at a different url. Where, when, how I have not yet decided. I shall update if and when enough reflection has conceded the answers. But for now, enough of The Name (I would like to blame you and you for its revival. *Sigh*)

Btw, I didn't hear quite enough cheers for the announcement. Let the echoes of my resurgence whisper through the ruins of the morally decayed and the decadent Civilization. The people rejoice. All except you. Yes you, the one who is reading this now. Why aren't you happy? Smile! Now!! Hmph. Not enough. You have to be punished. Put your hands up in the air and say "To blog or not to blog". Right. Decent. Again! Yes, much better. Get thee to a bloggery!

Umm. Now that that's done, there's a certain issue of my name being slandered somewhere. And to him, I shall NOT threaten revenge. I shall NOT reveal the secrets about the prof(s) and the lap dances. And about the Goddess. No No, I shall not. For I am a Gandhian. And, Me and You, You and Me, so Happy Together.

Enough of this hotchpotch post. Will end on a lovely song from my father's CDs...

Do you give
Do you live from day to day
Is there no song I can play for you
C'est la vie.

Oh, oh, c'est la vie.
Oh, oh, c'est la vie.
Who knows, who cares for me...
C'est la vie.

C'est la vie.

Requiem for a Blog…. Naah, You’re a Rockstar!

2006-04-27T11:01:00.000-07:00

Ok so it’s not going to be a song. It’s supposed to be more like a sad post. I’ve thought about ending this blog for some time now. With a killer of a post. A post, that centuries later, aficionados and patrons of literature and art will still hail as the greatest achievement of man. After the Mona Lisa. But then, naah.

Why kill something when, for all practical reasons, it will probably die a natural death by itself. I’ve always thought I should have had a different blog site address because this one not only reminds me of college but also of a name I shall no longer go by. And that is quite disheartening. Which is why I wanted to commit blogicide. But then I thought to myself, with the kind of schedule I have lined up, I probably won’t have time. Which, in a way, is good.

I think I’ve done enough squandering of precious Time through myriad practices of procrastination, devoted prayers to Morpheus and Hypnos and other such (and more) blasphemous activities. Which is all good too. But its time for a change. As clichéd as it sounds, recently a friend, ED, remarked that the only thing constant about anything related to him is change. And change we must.

I welcome this new way of living. One of constant busyness. The thought, which under ordinary circumstances would have driven me to the ends of hell if it were during college, spurs me on. As something to look forward to. Something to do apart from getting up late, eating lunch, watching a movie half asleep, having tea, quake (God bless Senti) and sleep. And some project work somewhere in between. The humdrum monotonicity of diurnal mediocrity cries, nay, wails loudly in anger and frustration that not an iota is different from yesterday and today. Or perhaps I am just overreacting. After all, that shopping experience with Raj the other day was quite a surprise...

Before I forget, book review. A first. The Rule of Four. Suggested by my mother. Amazing book. As the quote in the back of the book reads, a must read. And I support that completely and absolutely. Not only is this a suspense thriller and an emotionally driven story, but also the eloquence and the grandiloquent language causes never ending goosebumps. Ah, if only I were a bibliophilic outcast of society, how happy I could be.

Well, that was a short review. But what can you expect from someone who has read less than 3 books since the year began. (The other book I am yet to complete is the McKinsey Way, which I read more because of an out-to-prove-a-point attitude than anything else. But its fun too)

Ah, rambling. Miss doing that. Now now, I am not going to go into another, I miss this and that and all that jazz. I’m now done with all the nostalgia and sentiments of its ilk. Onward men, to go where no man…. right, where some men have already gone before!

Ending on a high: (my schedule)

***--updates

Saturday – IIM Freshers meet even for those ostensibly undecided on whether or not to join

Monday and Tuesday – Last of the Mohicans (read End Semesters)

Thursday – Day of departure to Rishikesh for White Water Rafting; McKinsey trip

Thursday* - Thus makeshift deadline for submitting thesis of my B Tech Project

Next Thursday*** - Deadline for submitting my thesis! My guide rocks!! My department rawks!!!

End of May – GMAT (yikes)

June - McK Training in Hyd for a couple of weeks

***Full June free!!!

July beginning*** – McK Training in Hyd for a couple of weeks

July – Join McK!

As you can see, so much to do. So much to see. So , well, you know the song.

Susan Ward smiles on seductively.

Bittersweet Symphony

2006-04-21T10:12:00.000-07:00

I slowly opened my eyes and looked around at the three colleagues of mine. I was smiling awkwardly as I tried studying the face of the person in front of me. He seemed quiet and serene. Tranquil. The person to my right seemed to have his eyes wide open as he gave a spaced over vibe. The last individual had already succumbed to the exercise. I closed my eyes and lost myself to amusing reveries.

One of the first images that come to my mind, is the mess top of my hostel. It has been different things at different points of time during my short sojourn at the institute. Seen me as a guileless young second year, as a somewhat matured albeit happy-go-lucky third year and finally as the unequivocal profound wise man as the fourth year. Yet through it all, it has been my oasis in the confusion and problems of everyday existence.

Yogasana. We had picked up this hobby hardly a few months back. To counter the stress and tension we faced at office diurnally. Personally I had never realized how taxing such a life could be. Had seen the rose, not the thorns; been pricked. However, had to surmise that the rose had been worth all the pain. Rightly. And he had now a new love.

What had he ever loved until now? Personally he had loved the hot lemon tea they had at Pat. He had always loved Appy. And ice cream. Food stuff apart, he had loved the CLT. Classrooms in HSB. His cellphone. The ledge of the corridor of his wing. The roads. The trees. Walking. The graceful deer and the stupid monkeys. Quake. The various spider families and his pet lizard in his room. Cycling. The ability to sleep after the sun rose but at the same time, crash before the sun set. Acquaintances. Associates. Friends. The beach. Movies and the theatre. Music. Living. Life. He had loved it all.

Coffee. I had yielded to its addictive taste and its almost mystical power to rejuvenate the enervated soul. However I still inherently hated the acrid sensation and the obnoxious smell. I hadn’t changed much, atleast I didn’t think so. But my outlook on life had. Life, death and everything in between.

If there is one thing that I was to take away from this four year stay in the hallowed halls of this prestigious educational institution, it would have to be the fact that your life is highly influenced by the people around you. Like a potter’s hands moulds the clay. Or the glassblower breathes life into his glass pieces. If I am who I am and I was who I was, it was because of all my friends. Especially my closer ones. Especially my wing mates. Especially him, him, him, him, him, him, him and him. But then there are so many other people, so many other. I could never recount them all and will never attempt as much as a guess. And one more thing. It’s a small world after all.

A small piece of melting Cadbury Delight made its way into my mouth and was gently pressed onto the palette by my tongue. As I continued to abrade the surface of this wonderful chocolate, the incumbent uneasy flavour lingered on in my mouth. A sour feeling. And then the divine tang of the heavenly chocolate. Bitter yet sweet. De ja vu.

Bitter Sweet Symphony.

Cause it's a bittersweet symphony, this life
Cause it's a bittersweet symphony, this life

Trying to make ends meet
Trying to make ends meet

You're a slave to money then you die
You're a slave to money then you die

I'll take you down the only road I've ever been down
I'll take you down the only road I've ever been down

You know the one that takes you to the places
You know the one that takes you to the places

where all the veins meet yeah
where all the veins meet yeah

Goal

2006-04-09T16:38:00.000-07:00

The ball was finally with me. I steadied myself as I looked up to see the goalpost. Half the field away. And with three defenders dieing to charge at me. I put the ball forward and thought to myself, “This is your chance. Your opportunity to prove yourself. To the world around you. To everyone. To her.” I dribbled past the first, then a swift movement past the second, faked a shot and beat the third. It was me and the goalie. One on one. What seemed like eternity then, happened in a split-second. I saw the anxious goalie unsure of whether or not to make a run out of his spot on the white line. I made up my mind, took aim and shot…

Finally, his dreams were coming true. Here was a friend, who in spite of being the most talented person I have ever met, had surrendered his dreams and settled on more pragmatic ambitions. Goals that needed their dedication and diligence no doubt, but were mere asteroids in the galactic possibilities that entailed as a result of his enviable skills. Goals, punned of course. I celebrated in silent glee as he beat two of the menacing defenders without batting as much as an eyelid. Then his majestic fake that outwit the last defender bringing him into a standoff with the final protector of the enemy base. In what lasted mere seconds, the ball was hit fiercely towards the opposition goalie guarding his elusive white rectangular frame.

I looked at him again. And again. My eyes refused to concede to the repeated orders of a troubled mind. He was truly remarkable. Looked like a brazen God dressed in his favourite red jersey and black studs adorned by the orange institute socks. Not a moment passed when I did not regret what I had done. He had been a true gentleman throughout. After knowing everything. Except for the nasty swipes he took on the last day. The heart yearns for company and sometimes, much to the chagrin of the brain, chooses disloyalty and dishonesty, when in fact, it could be the most important time to uphold such values. My eyes shadowed his graceful moves assiduously as he weaved a magical way through the bewildered players of the opposite team. I thought of the memories I had had with him. His smile. But now I saw a different him. A more focused him. I felt his emotions and energy within me as he moved towards his goal. Finally, I let off a shriek as he readied himself and hit the ball.

I punched my gloved hands together to intimidate the brawny machine which was bulling its path, making fools out of the strong defense that my team boasted off. As if completely bamboozling two of them wasn’t enough, he made an amateur of our most experienced defender as he got past him with a brilliant fake. And there he was. I made my mind not to charge him and stood my ground instead. He saw it too. He knew I wasn’t coming out. But he decided to shoot. He lined himself up and he whacked the ball. Straight towards the goal. My goal. I heard someone in the audience cry out as he released his projectile with much ferocity. But I sure as hell wasn’t going to wait around for it to find the back of the net. I dove full length towards the far post where the ball seemed predestined to reach. I was in full stretch and in mid air.

Running around all day can be tiring for a hapless referee. Not much time left in this match though. Another thrilling goalless encounter, past extra time and now reaching the ill fated penalty shootouts in which heroes are made and losers are staid. Now though, I had to concentrate on the game at hand. Seems the forward has the ball and is going full steam towards enemy territory. One fair tackle, no, make that two. A fake. Clean move. All set to shoot. I run towards to get a better view but before I can make it, he lets out a screamer of a shot. The goalie dives with hands yearning to push the ball into relative safety away from the inviting belly of his goal. The ball swerves in the air, but hit with much power seems almost set to enter, when out of nowhere, the ball decides to test the probabilities and hit the goalpost instead. Bounces off the woodwork and makes a direct collision course… with me. Before I know it, the ball ricochets off me. In due course of time, it makes its way into the big open target of the forward much to the stupor of the goalie, the striker, the teams and everyone else. Everyone’s quiet. I look around. I blow the whistle.

Nostalgia

2006-04-02T12:26:00.000-07:00

First day. Decided to watch the likes of Fart Box, KD and Nitya play football in the quadrangle. Sat down. A quarter hour later, the seniors join me for what was then going to be my first introduction session. Fortunately or otherwise, an addled Approx, also enters the discussion of his own free will. Of course, back then he didn’t know that he would be given such a name. I was given a short lived nick name which is better left to the imagination.

Night and room number 268 has all its three residents settling in for their first night in the institute when an abrupt knock disturbs them. Opening the door, reveals none other than Torso, also not yet privy to his nick. Torso pleads to spend the night in our room since none of his roommates had turned up. We concede to his request. Torso, as infamous as he is now, spends his first ever night, sleeping on two tables.

Some nights later, in the company of many esteemed seniors, am in the 5^th wing. Many things transpire. Helmet is born. Christened Helmet Top, it reduces to a much more respectable first name alone in due course of time.

Helmet learns about the practice of appreciating one’s achievements or activities through the process of connecting one’s behind and another’s foot.

Muddu is enlightened to the ways of the world, by his roommate Ramani.

OS is banned from the 7^th wing and whenever this prohibition is broken, Pimp is chastised with numerous kicks to his posterior.

PD humours the wing with his unique knowledge which is quickly dubbed the Swamy Rapeananda series. Even seniors are not spared as Santa soon learns how to do things he never would have even imagined. All from PD.

PD vs OS. Man.

Satya and KS. What a lovely couple. Romantic moonlit walks. Endless conversations. Dropping CGPAs.

Muddu gets psyched by our wing or attracted to the inherent geekiness of the 8^th wing. Gets adopted above and is banished from below.

Rami, the most eligible bachelor of our hostel. Only computer of the wing. Mortal Kombat.

CC’s obsession with the CC. Then his subsequent carroms fetish.

Nana and Pimp. The love story of the wing.

Approx’s weeklong nightout for every set of quizzes. His subsequent branch change from Aerospace to Mechanical.

Nana crashing in his room and not waking up to repeated knocking and much noise. Finally awakened by splashing water through holes in the wall.

My first cell phone. Previously had to walk to the PCO booth in Gurunath to make calls and later to the hostel entrance to answer calls from home. Thank God for cell phones.

Muddu’s call from “Sushil”. His long 4 minute telephonic meeting and then his recounting the same to me. His couple of minutes before realizing I was “Sushil”.

Bulb’s call from Workshop claiming his book had gone missing and another copy was needed to put a grade. Bulb almost got started on the job. Approx informs Bulb in time.

NSO Basketball! Those fun morning sessions to which I attribute much of my weight loss.

Bunking my first Shaastra. Goes neglected for the next couple of years.

Torso’s birthday and his cake. The blood clot that ensued after the many greetings we showered on him.

Mess food! To which I attribute the remaining part of the weight loss. But, herein begins my passion for eating multiple ice creams daily.

Night canteen! Yummy! Damn the Dean for taking away all that is fun.

The time when all my possessions were packed into my suitcase and the lock changed. The whole wing knew except me. And I thought Chunni was trying to help me open the lock. Realized later he knew to pick locks well.

Gult songs from Lingo’s stereo. He was my roommate. Subconsciously kindled my desire and drive to learn the language.

Trip to Bombay for Aditya Birla Finals. Movie Twister with TenG. Spent the night together. :P.

My first Saarang as Catering volunteer. Everyone who comes to Saarang needs to eat. Late night maggi for free. Sleep at 5 and wake up at 7.

** (Late recollection) Hardy being introed by Cyber, the swimmer and volley player. Cyber showing pictures to Hardy and Hardy getting disgusted and walking away. Cyber is dumbstruck and literally begs Hardy not to complain (with folded hands). Hardy nods as is natural of him. And obviously, it was just before the situation that he was nicked Hardy.

One of the only three times I have gone to the Institute library. Went to get my duplicate ID card having lost the original.

Vamshi and Badri. The first Crossie couple.

Kabi who enters our wing, leaving the sheltered 8^th wing, and gets assaulted in the name of all that is holy and just. Kabi enjoys the hospitality of a hospital.

KVK, Nitya and their wing.

My first football game. My inability to do anything but scoop the ball. Relentless enthusiasm.

Mallu and his strong, strong legs. And his liking of Torso.

My sprain after stepping on a basketball. Eventually hurting my ankle even further after I kick the ball with the injured leg.

Eric. My first Saarang coordinator! Along with Frenchie and DDT from Godav. Frenchie’s bike and his girl. Their promise of a party.

Sparams! 111. Fundaes God.

Pollock! 249. First known literary stud.

F_ckita and Manu and the rest of that 1^st wing. Baby, also known as, Mad Eminem later on when the quaking was in full spree. Ramsubs and his quirky ways.

Ass Ravi and his room. His wisdom. His computer. His memory. His computer’s memory.

Bluff!!! Amazing cards game. Especially when more than 10 people play it at the same time.

Great guys. Great seniors. Great friends. Great memories.

First year!!! Awesome time.

The Answers to The Ultimate Question Of Life, the Universe and Everything

2006-03-25T22:27:00.000-08:00

I’m sitting in the Patisserie with friends when K shows up and asks, “Do you want to hear a joke?”. Innocently enough we acquiesce. K continues, smiling, “There is this large village where it rains a lot. When it rains, it causes floods. Now, there are two girls, Gita and Sita, who wish to cross a river overflowing due to the floods. There are two ways to cross the river, one, a strong stable bridge which takes you comfortably to the other side. The other option being to swim through the crocodile infested river and the strong currents. Gita peacefully crosses safely by walking across the strong stable bridge whilst Sita toils and slogs across the river, fighting off the reptilian monsters. However, the dumb Sita is adjudged to be the smarter of the two, why?” As he ends, emphasizing on the last word, we, the listeners, are left befuddled. Looking blankly into each other, we try to hypothesize an answer but to no avail. Finally as we surrender to his grinning face, K replies, “Its quite obvious if you think. The dumb Sita who fought her way across the river is said to be smarter than Gita because she got more marks in her board exams.”

Some jokes are funny because they make use of puns. Double entendres. This one was funny because it was not expected. Frankly, it was just silly. But that’s just it. Silly jokes seem to be so much funnier than normal jokes because they are almost not jokes. They are imperfections. Much like you and me.

Man should be blessed that he is not imperfect. I can wager any form of obscene amounts that no single individual is perfect. Is, was or will ever be. Most people work day in and day out to attain perfection, the perfectionists, when alas, they forget that imperfection is happiness. Isn’t it true that the most interesting things we remember about people we meet are their imperfections?

And on top of all of this, who would ever want to watch any game between two perfect teams or two paragons? I’m talking about an absolutely faultless game. No one. It’s only because nobody is consummate does sports and entertainment flourish. Except Federer.

I’m walking down the corridor of 4^th wing when D calls me into his room. He is smiling. Reminded me of K from the other day. “I have a joke. A funny one”. He is grinning ear to ear by now. I uneasily gesticulate him to continue. “In a large village…”, I already hated the way this one started and begin to squirm, “there is an old woman. This woman has five children. Four of the children are Yudhishtra, Arjuna, Bhima and Nakula.” (For the mythically handicapped, these are four of the five Pandavas.) D pauses for a moment before he continues, “What is the name of the fifth child?”. I hesitate but then query “Sahadeva?” (which for the culturally stunted, is the name of the fifth Pandava). D nods his head in disapproval and after I act dumb for a while, he overwhelmed by the moment, spits out the answer, “Jimmy.” “Huh?” I ask, nay, demand. “Jimmy”, he reiterates and is then lost in his laughter. Shortly after, I follow suit. Jimmy is the new sensation of our wing.

Douglas Adams claimed that 42 was the answer to the Ultimate Question though never mentioning the actual question that was considered. First things first, I think the answer is 23. Not 42. Though 42 is close. And no, I too reserve my right to merely allude to the question and not clearly state what it is.

As far as non-numerical answers to the Ultimate Question go, the best solution I can come up with is Jimmy. Jimmy is anyone and Jimmy is someone. Jimmy is anything and yet, yes, you probably already guessed it right, Jimmy is something. Jimmy is you and Jimmy is me. No, this is not just some Jimmy that Jimmy came up with. It’s true. Try it. Whenever someone asks you, what you are doing, answer Jimmy. Whenever someone accuses you of doing something you shouldn’t have done, blame it on Jimmy. Jimmy is that person you met in last week’s party who you couldn’t recognize but claimed knew you. Jimmy is that really cool black Mercedes you saw yesterday. Jimmy is the security guard at the hostel entrance. Jimmy is the machine which gives you hot lemon tea.

And say Hi to Jimmit.

Basically what I am trying to convey, albeit, disgracefully and downright awfully is that there are some questions that shouldn’t be attempted. Like “What is the purpose of one’s life?” or “What is the reason why some event occurred?” or “What is the secret of living?” (Not Art of Living ~ that’s the 1.5K course which teaches you how to breathe :|). They are of pure intellectual pursuit for the mentally bored. Much like the True or False sections in PH101 and PH102. And the Ultimate Question.

S joins D, H, Im and me on top of the mess as we sit there exchanging stories and prophesizing the return of Communism. H asks S to narrate some story, any story, with a moral. S thinks. Thinks hard. The rest of us wait in silent anticipation. Finally S emerges out of his self induced comal catharsis and relates the following tale, “Once there was a father who wanted to divide his wealth before he died. He had three sons and he proposed a challenge to test their capabilities. Thus, he asked the sons to fill a huge hall with anything they can buy for a paltry 10 rupees. The first son proceeds to buy cotton for the amount and obviously does not cover even quarter of the hall. The second son obtains oil which however does not permeate even half the hall. The third son gets incense sticks for this money and hence saturates the whole hall with the smoke from burning the sticks. So…” D interrupts the conclusion and asks, “If the first son brought cotton and the second got oil, why doesn’t the third burn the cotton and the oil together?” S with a nonplussed face, tries to explain his way out of the situation, “Well, he could have but he didn’t. In any…” Im uses the opportunity to pitch in with his comments, “So the third son wasn’t as smart as the first two, since I suppose the first two under the same circumstances wouldn’t have wasted money to get the extra incense sticks. In fact, I suppose the first two were trying to help the third brother out. Perhaps he was the dumbest brother or something.” By now, we four are giggling incessantly, as every new remark is cited. S looks irked but smiles along as is characteristic of him. Finally I ask, “So what’s the moral of the story?” S is unable to reply before H who out-of-turn and rather unrelated to the topic suggests, “I think the father wanted to divide the property between only two brothers instead of three. Its easier to divide by two than three. So he was searching for someone to cut off his will. Clearly the third brother is the one who would have been deleted.” S is quite pained now.

Suddenly, out of the blue, something strikes me. “You know what, I realized something…” All four of them are curious. “The third brother. Guess his name.” S is the only one of us not rolling on the floor laughing as he replies, smiling, “Jimmy!”.

Change

2006-03-19T04:16:00.000-08:00

Jimmy went through the wine menu one last time before he chose a Beaujolais. Only after he had ordered the expensive uncommon vino, did he realize that he didn’t know whether the person who was going to join him would even drink wine. Cursing his irrational thinking process, he decided to take a chance and stick with his call. Drinking wine was nothing to be ashamed about.

The restaurant was dimly lit and honeyed romantic tunes played supporting cast to the several ornamental candles that adorned the tables. This was definitely more a lover’s spot than a rendezvous for two friends. Friends? More like two individuals who used to be friends and have not met each in over 5 years.

Jimmy was growing impatient with every irritating minute that passed by as he waited. He started playing with the fork and his spoon much to the chagrin of the other patrons of the bistro. At one point, he got so loud that he was treated to the harsh cold stares of two sisters who had incidentally come there to bitch about how annoying men were. Jimmy just gave an awkward smile and turned his head down sheepishly towards his empty plate. He was actually feeling a bit hungry.

The last time these two had met, Jimmy was still in college. Final year, in fact. Jimmy was having the time of his life with nothing to do or rather procrastination being his passion. It was under really strange circumstances that they had met for the very first time. They had bumped into each other in a coffee shop, quite literally. Jimmy ended up paying for an extra cup of steaming cappuccino, much to his personal disgust. And he had a coffee stain on his favourite shirt, which was really hard for him since he didn’t have too many shirts he liked. It turned out that they were going to the same interview, which he ended up getting through in. But they had remained in contact ever since.

Jimmy wondered how much he had changed since his days at the university. How he had grown. Evolved. For better or worse. However his life had been a walk in the park compared to what his friend had gone through. Mostly only rumours that he had heard. Still, he had no idea of the person he was going to meet. Moreover, he didn’t know which Jimmy he was going to be – the traditional, sober and intellectual or the fun-loving, partying and happy-go-lucky Jimmy. Personally he hated to pretend to be someone else but as life had taught him, sometimes it is necessary. If not for your sake, atleast for the others’.

Jimmy hated hypocrites. And he positively abhorred himself for being one. He detested that he had to act differently depending upon who was around him. He thought that Man was being an ass when it came to protecting Nature and instead plundering it but at the same time often did not care where he threw his trash. He believed in every person’s right to education but found broken or locally accented English repulsive.

Just across the table, a family of three were having dinner. Looked like they were enjoying themselves. At the outset atleast. Then he realized that there was hardly any conversation. The couple, who looked quite young, was eating with their faces down and the lone son, who had finished his meal a long time ago, was looking at his parents with a forlorn countenance. He looked hardly five years old.

At the table opposite, a smitten pair was enjoying a moment of silence which only those who are really in love can be comfortable with. Sitting close together they ate, morsel by morsel, with brilliant smiles on their glowing faces. “Try as they might they can never define, what’s been said between your heart and mine”. Jimmy hummed the tune to himself. He loved such stupid songs though frankly never had a chance to really understand them.

Jimmy brushed his hair and closed his eyes and smiled. Just as he was about to open his eyes, he heard a vaguely familiar voice, call out and say, “Sorry darling. Got held up. The traffic was really bad.” “Of course, I understand, please sit down.” “Wow, Beaujolais! You have excellent taste!”, she commented as she sat down. “Yes, I somehow knew you would like it”. “So, tell me everything.”

She hadn’t changed a bit.

The right place, The right time, The right words

2006-03-11T11:20:00.000-08:00

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.I was hyperventilating.

I tried to calm myself down. Closed my eyes. Inhaled a long whiff of air. Exhaled.

I hate when this happened. When I start breathing excessively hard. Which is usually a result of some haunting dream. I tried recollecting the dream and as usual, my efforts were in vain.

I sat up and searched the table for my glasses. After fumbling around a bit, I found them. I put them on. I looked at my watch for the time. It was 3:27 am.

My sleep was very much disturbed. I opened the door and made my way to a favorite retreat, my balcony wall. Sitting on the parapet, I stared at the waning moon.

I was in two minds. Should I call her now? Something told me not to, not to wake her up as such an inhuman hour. But then I had to.

I dialed her number and watched the flashing fluorescent screen as it tried to connect. Shortly afterwards, I placed the phone to my ear and heard the melodious song she had replaced the ubiquitous quotidian ringing tone with. This is taking too long, maybe I should disconnect.

“Hello?” a drowsy effeminate voice answered. I was thrilled. “Hi, it’s me. Sorry for waking you up”, I said, sotto voce. I was half afraid she was going to be mad. “It is alright. Tell me, what’s up?” Did she sound indifferent? Or was it just Hypnos being caustic on losing someone? I was not feeling too confident of continuing the conversation but as the same time did not want to end the call.

“Well, I had a dream,” I continued and not knowing what else to say, adlibbed, “about you.” I don’t know why I did what I did. She had already told me enough times about how she felt about me. She had made it clear, no, abundantly clear that our relationship was one shared by two intimate friends. Bordering on a sisterly relationship. I had tried to convince her too many times already. Now grave, she replied, “You know how I feel about this. About you. I …” I interrupted, “ No, it’s not like that. I did have a dream about you. But in the dream you die” Where did that come from?

An eerie silence pervaded the conversation. Uncomfortable. “Hello?” I inquired. She sounded positively sweet though still retaining a serious tone as she replied “Yes, I’m here.” Well well well. Something was different. Almost as if some invisible barrier had been pulled down. I couldn’t understand this completely but played along. “Yeah, as I was saying, I had this horrible dream in which you die. I woke up all startled and shaken up. I had to call you and hear your voice. Your mellisonant voice. How I love it. How I love your playful dimpled smile. And your sinuous black flowing tresses. And your perfect brown eyes, those two expressive windows where I get lost for days on end. And you.”

“I love you” I stated, hoping for some response. “I love you and will love you forever. Please tell me you love me too.” She was quiet. Too quiet.

“So, tell me, please…” Suddenly I was interrupted by a phone ringing. Absolutely confused, I realized it was the phone I was speaking into. It was her calling.

I answered the call, “Hey.” “Hey, the phone got cut and I thought you would call back. So I waited for a while and then called. So you were saying something about a dream?” She sounded inquisitive and waiting for something. Waiting to hear what I had already just told. To my cellphone.

“Well, nothing much. Just wanted to call you and make sure you are alright.” And on a delayed afterthought and much heartache, added, “Sis”.

Efil – Life backwards

2006-03-05T03:50:00.000-08:00

Wouldn’t it be great if the whole circle of life was reversed? I mean, look at the way we live our lives – we have the best of times in our childhood and great times at the threshold of entering the world of adults. The remaining part of our dutiful lives is spent toiling at some place earning loads of money to buy expensive clothes and splurge in exotic foods and other such nefarious worldly pleasures but never as happy as when we were during the innocence of our younger days.

I read a comment of a comedian some time back and this inspired me to muse that all is not right with the way we age. In fact, it would be much more fraught with meaning and significance, not to mention enjoyable and gratifying, if only the whole circle of life was turned on its heels.

Here’s the right way to do it. You enter this lovely world as an octogenarian or a nonagenarian or if you have enough good karma from your previous births, you could even be a centurian. Straight into an old-age home. You can hardly walk, talk or involve in other such human interactions. At best you can successfully remove your dentures just before you go to sleep.

As the years move on, you begin to feel rejuvenated as your health improves dramatically. And when you’re all hale and healthy, you’re unceremoniously kicked out of the old-age home. It’s not yet time to celebrate, for with the newly found vigor and fitness is associated the despicable concept of earning one’s living. Now is the time for work and office and all that jazz. You’re around 60 by now.

At work slowly the responsibilities dwindle, which is an amazing concept in stark contrast to the existing norms. You begin to climb the ladder, downwards and there is no pressure on you to perform. Whatever you do, you’re going down.

Somewhere along the way, you meet a nice homely woman of your age and marry her. You may even have children… I mean adults.(Unfortunately, not all aspects of this brilliant plan have been worked out but I am sure that given the mysterious way the miracles of Nature work, stranger things have happened. For example, President Bush was reelected) Fifty is somewhere around the corner or perhaps you just passed it. The usual razzmatazz of midlife crisis hits you and you are seen philandering with older women.

See, now, when you leave for work daily, with that perfectly knotted tie and that charming blue shirt, you know that somewhere down the line you will be fired from the office for being too young to continue working. Which is awesome because that is like the worst thing that can happen. By then it’s time for college. You get to choose whichever college you want to go to because ultimately it really doesn’t matter what you learn at college anyway. So basically this means partying and sleeping. “Karmanyevaadi kaaryasthu maa phaleshu kadachane”. Your actions must not be done so as to expect the fruits in return. Yeah right. There are things which are said and there are things which are done. Proverbially we know which is easier.

College is a blast and before you know it, you hit 18! High school! Young love. Maths! Hmm, yeah. Young love! Its brilliant. You grow through the awkward phase of adolescence as you unmature from giggling hirsute masses of body odour into cute cuddly unsuspecting bundles of naivette and innocence. Absolutely no responsibilities. Which is the most you can ask for as you live the rest of your joyous life pampered by everyone around you.

The last 2 years would be quite a hoot albeit it is debatable whether you actually know what is going on by this time, having lost the ability to make meaningful conversation or even comprehend language. Sign language is the best forms of communication. 9 months remaining, you are given the comfort of a heated room with room service and a lot of attention. Many people have killed for much less.

Finally after all this fuss, you fade away. Not into nothingness. Nay, it would be far too demoralizing for someone to lead his whole life just to disintegrate into oblivion. And it would just be plain wrong. So finally, finally, you become the quintessential orgasm that should have started it all.

Amen.

To see your face again

2006-02-26T01:06:00.000-08:00

It had been a stressful day at the office today. The kind of day that made you loosen your tie. I decided to take a walk through the Park before I drove home. Helped me to calm down. The closest that you can get to pure air in the polluted confines of the City.

As I was walking through the stone pathway canopied by the trees, I caught a glimpse of a face which was vaguely recognizable. Could it be? Was it possible? Her? A blast from the past so to speak. It was her. By now, I was no longer walking but just staring. She too had now seen me. Either she was dumbstruck that a total stranger was gawking at her or she too had finally realized that it was me. After what seemed like an eternity, she smiled. I breathed a sigh of relief.

I walked up to her jauntily with a smile that eclipsed that of the Cheshire cat. She was still having the same pleasant expression on her face. The same expression, the same face. She had hardly changed. It had been quite a long time since I had last seen her. It was a funny relationship we had had. We had hardly met though we had talked a lot. Almost daily. I think I had been in love with her. No, I am sure, I definitely had been. And I think the feeling was mutual. Yet never once had either of us show even the slightest inclination of expressing any of these sentiments to each other. This, assuming, she too was in love with me. I think she was. Well, most probably.

The silence was broken ever so softly by her mellifluous voice as she enquired how I was. I replied I was doing good and exchanged niceties similarly. Then the silence reappeared in all its evil uncomfortable glory, as we stood there looking at each other, horrible smiles adorning our uneasy faces knowing not what to say or do.

My mind started to wander. It usually does when I have nothing to say. Awkward as it was, my first thought drifted to the brown eyes, the black lithe tresses and the svelte figure of my wife. I suddenly remembered the last conversation I had had with my wife. I hadn’t known how to react.

It was the morning of the same day and I had been reading the papers. The comic strip. Calvin and Hobbes. Drinking a cup of hot steaming tea. She approached me looking rather apprehensive and sat down on the cushioned sofa next to me. She said she had something to tell me. I remained silent still reading the papers. She continued undaunted that about a month ago she had run into one of her old college-mates. She had mentioned this guy before. A freelance photographer. I put the paper down and looked at her, still not speaking. He had come up to her and told her in all his brusque naivete that he loved her. He always had. He could not bear to see her with another man.

By now, my mind was overrun with a plethora of emotions and feelings. Why was she telling me this? Is she going to leave me? Perhaps she has been having this affair for a long time now. Did she actually love this other guy? Did she love me? Had she ever loved me? What did she want me to do? To say? Did she want money? What was going on??

However, on the outside I still maintained the stoic visage of apathy personified. But I did ask her what happened then. She looked up and told me with a cherubic countenance that she had told him off. She had told him she was far too happily married and far too much in love to even consider his request. I was positively beaming by now and asked her why she had told me this in the first place. She replied insouciantly that she had just felt like it. I felt funny. Discomforted. I should have been happy yet I still was unsure.

I returned to the umbrageous footpath from the vivid flashback. Even the birds and the insects had decided to quiesce to let us feel that much more nervous and uneasy. She was still there looking uncertain of what was going on in my head. She seemed disquieted. I was thinking of some appropriate question to ask her. Or perhaps something about some mutual friend. Then, she did something I hardly expected. She wrinkled her forehead and looked serious as she stated rather tersely that she loved me.

Almost instantly, I replied that I loved her too.

Confused

2006-02-18T05:13:00.000-08:00

There are just some days in our lives in which you feel you think you are in complete control. You know the purpose of your living or indeed the absence of it. Perhaps you think life is for the greater good of the greater number, as preached by Utilitarianism or quite conversely, you belong to an Egoistic school of thought and would rather dedicate your life to your own selfish needs. Fair. To each his own.

The other day I was talking with this Prof and he, although highly appreciative of my current inclination to take up a job, was trying to convince me to try for the Civil Services. But to me, from all the interaction I’ve had with people from this field, the Indian Administrative Services is a thankless job. I feel that you give in too much, without expecting anything in return. Altruistic. Perhaps, one day I would want to pursue such a career and in fact, I might even regret not considering it now. But, I mused that it would be far more grievous if I were to take up that physically and mentally stressful job on the mere assumption that somewhere down the line, perhaps even as inevitable consequences of a mid-life crisis, I would want to be such a person. Don’t misunderstand me, I truly appreciate people who want to dedicate their lives to such and perhaps even more trying and unappreciated ends. It’s just that I am not one of them. Not completely atleast. A friend once told me the exact same thing, with more colorful words, something like “Perhaps you want to take the best job now and pimp your way to the top. Granted. But will you be happy with yourself when you die, knowing well that you could have so much more?” Hate to admit it, but that made sense.

Profs seem to be in quite the philosophical moods these days. An email conversation with my guide some time back resulted in a brief exchange of views about the Indian educational system. I, on one hand, was trying to explain to him how in spite of knowing fully well that I would no longer remain in the realm of computer science, I was still keen to finish my project satisfactorily. Well, that’s what I tried to convince him. He, quite understandably, assumed I was rather disinterested in the whole process and sends me mails about the failing academic scene in India, which included, “You don't understand, Indian academia is all screwed up. With attitudes that we have, we will never do science as a nation. We will remain wannabes, for we seldom concentrate the key aspects of scientific research.” I was quite taken aback for I always stereotyped Profs as … well, Profs. That said my guide is quite the young enthusiastic rebel of a Prof. :P.

There was yet another incident but this one with an ostensibly absent-minded professor. People take him for granted and how! Courses are completed with just a presentation and sometimes even without that. And all because he appears unconcerned about all this. Well, my opinion of him changed when recently he made an impromptu speech to a small group of around 5 of us, which went something like “You guys think I am senile? Well, perhaps I am getting old but I still remember. What I find hard to digest is that this course for which you have come seeking your grade is a self-study course. True some of you have done some work, (looks at me) like I saw you quite often (hearing which I am visibly shocked that he even remembered I took his course) and (looks at another classmate) we had written discussions. So yes, some of you have done some work. But does it actually deserve a grade? All you guys, the products of this new generation of great minds from your prestigious milieus, you come to this institute and from the word go, you are complaining that the system is faulty. The exams are all misplaced in their purposes. The whole organization and the routines are defective and damaged beyond repair. But then, given a self study course in which you are completely free to decide what you want to read and what you want to learn and what you want to peruse and no form of examination to test what you have done; at best I was like a mentor to guide you in your efforts; what happens? You slack off and prove the aptness of the adage, a bad carpenter always blames his tools. I had hope for your batch, with so many students taking up the course I offered. But it seems I have erred. And perhaps with your juniors, I shall not repeat the mistake.” Holy Crap, here we were thinking it was just some miscommunication between him and the Ad Block (yeah sure) and we are treated to the harsh reality in the simple words of a man who has seemingly lost hope in his students. I felt sorry for this academician. But that was it. :|.

I don’t know if I can make sense from all of this. Perhaps some things are just there to serve no meaning. But maybe it was all this ranting or just some reflection on my part or both, but I decided that I would try to plan my immediate future, say for the next 4-5 years albeit them being sketchy plans. Plan something and stick to it. Decide! I really can’t see any correlation between all this ranting and my decision but somehow I felt there was something. Maybe they just made me think. Anyways, for now, I know my plans. :).

Philosophy is at once the most sublime and the most trivial of human pursuits.

Yup, now I am confused too…

Me, Myself and Dr. Frasier Crane

2006-02-12T10:05:00.000-08:00

Ahh, madness. This final semester is getting to be painfully peaceful. You know the oxymorons you hate? This one scores pretty high up there. Having no responsibilities or commitments is brilliant, its like a second chance at childhood. But then after a while, the humdrum daily monotony gets on your nerves.

A great way to beat the same is movies and sitcoms. Off late, Frasier helped me tackle a couple of weeks of boredom but he was ably supported by the likes of Munich and Syriana, which by the way are amazing must-see movies. I got to see two seasons of Frasier, the 7^th and the 8^th and in case you’re wondering if the 8^th season of Frasier was indeed the last one, like I thought before venturing on this voyage, you’re mistaken. Apparently there are 3 more seasons, which I came to know off only after I watched the last episode of the 8^th season with bated breath and a ready-to-say-“aww” attitude. When the episode ended abruptly and at loose ends, my worst fears, well temporarily my worst fears, ummm naah…well for that moment my worst fears, umm naah… ok my somewhat bad fears :), were confirmed. Ah, you win some, you lose some.

Frasier is a great character. He is sophisticated, a patron of the arts and best of all, he is a wine connoisseur. I think that somehow I started associating myself with the character, hoping that some day I too will be as refined in taste and moral fiber. I love the way he quotes random authors and poets. The way he speaks French. And the way he loses control when he thinks he is in love. The nonpareil hopeless romantic. And the way he acts like the egoistic and egotistic individual but yet, when the right time comes, considers the feelings of other people perhaps judging them more important than his own. But all said and done, I would never want to be Frasier. Well, first of all he is a psychiatrist ergo a believer of biology and hence inherently faulted. And secondly, he is bald… :p.

But seriously, don’t we all love the people who can appreciate the big paintings with nothing but a lonely red dot on a white canvas? And don’t we all yearn to be the guy who looks at a wine menu and with a graceful flick of the wrist is able to point to a lexically convoluted name, which by the way, turns out to be quite delightful to the palate? I don’t know about us, but I sure feel this way. Now, to learn some French to understand those names…

Egotistic. What a beautiful adjective. Just the other day, I was talking to a friend and the conversation went something like this:

Friend: Hey, is there a match today?
Me: Yeah I think so (with a rather quizzical look on my face since I didn’t know he cared to know about hostel football matches)
Friend: Oh, has it started?
Me: (Now I’m more like dumbstruck) No, junta have classes now (it was around afternoon time)
Friend: (Positively nonplussed) Huh? (Turns ever so slightly towards the common room alluding to the possible cricket match)
Me: (A few moments of silence later) Oh! (Totally laughing at myself) I have no idea da!
Friend: What the…

Perhaps I was just preoccupied. Perhaps not.

Hopeless romantic. The type that woo women with flowers and chocolates. And singing ballads. The type that wait for the ideal quintessential romantic opportunity to propose, that solitary moment which is all that the incompatible couple of time and perfection can afford. And yes, they have a way with words :D.

Now that love is in the air, something called Valentine’s Day is on the cards. Personally, I think it’s a highly contrived and commercialized concept with the prime motive to capitalize on the feelings of hapless unsuspecting couples yearning for more occasions to prove their ostensibly unending love for each other. Bah humbug. Mother’s day, Father’s day, this day and that. But it’s amazing, I wonder why the corresponding Brother’s day or Sister’s day hasn’t gained all that popularity. Perhaps there is already enough bonding between siblings? Naah, impossible. :P.

All said and done, I’m still open to the idea of someone proving to me that my theories are wrong and downright despicable. Especially the one about Valentine’s Day. Tuesday? Yes, Tuesday would be good. Maybe over a hot cup of tea. Not coffee.

Frasier: There's an incredible piece of scientific equipment known as the Tunneling Electron Microscope. Now, this microscope is so powerful that by firing electrons you can actually see images of the atom, the infinitesimally minute building block of our universe. If I were using that microscope right now, I still wouldn't be able to locate my interest in your problem.

Well anyways, its good bye for now.

And good mental health.

Of Men and Oneirisms

2006-02-05T15:48:00.000-08:00

A writer’s life is a difficult one. Recalcitrant and demanding. He knew that. It was nearly six months since he started the arduous task of penning his book. His literary masterpiece. Six months of pure solitude and seclusion, perhaps to the point of self-imposed ostracizing. The chapters toiled for, the struggles relentless.

Every once in a while he needed some fresh air. To clear the lungs. A dingy log cabin does that to your system. The park at the edge of the woods was the perfect remedy. A remedy or a nostrum? Well. In any case, he helped himself to one every couple of weeks.

It was like any other time. The hint of sunlight creeping through the enveloped evening sky as the solar reign made way for the brilliance of night’s darkness. A couple of birds flew against the receding reddish-orange Sun. The water in the lake was as placid as ever. There waited his bench overlooking this magical “triviality” of Nature.

Usually it would be empty. Almost no one made their way to this place. Almost no one knew about this place. This slice of heaven was a well-guarded secret. Usually.

The Greeks had a way of humanizing their Gods. She would have been an ideal subject for a Greek Goddess. The sinuous tresses of her brunette hair overflowing onto her shoulders nonchalantly, yet gracefully. Her matching chestnut eyes speaking volumes with but a flutter of her pralinic eyelids. He stood there, open-mouthed, as he continued staring at this angel dressed in the quintessential black dress, not the glamorous raiment but not a casual garb either.

He closed his mouth just as she noticed his presence. She smiled at him and he reciprocated the gesture although much more sheepishly and awkwardly. There was a seat next to hers begging to be sat on by the likes of his posterior excesses. He began to feel uncomfortable about the physical image his immensely neglected body was projecting. But then he reassured himself that his skills as a writer, nay, an artiste, would far compensate his exterior imperfections. He hoped.

He thought about going up to her and introducing himself. He then imagined himself seating next to her and investing some time in meaningless banter. Like about the weather. The political scenario which was stinking up the city. The impossibly high cost of an onion. Anything.

Then his mind drifted as he envisaged a romantic date where she gets completely bowled over by his incomparable wit and wisdom. A couple of bottles of fortified Spanish wine later, he proposes to her a la the classical traditional time-tested on-one-knee routine and ah, she says yes. He is ecstatic. Rhapsodic. Beyond words.

Soon enough, there are two children, a boy and a girl. The elder boy grows up to become a doctor specializing in neurology and the girl, a dancer, a world-renowned one at that. Before he knew it, he was a grandfather. He would come to be one a couple more times. He is euphoric. Blissful. Beyond words.

Suddenly, he sees her coming down with some illness. One from which she would never recover. And as she breathed her last, her hands clasped in his, she smiles one last time and a lone tear meanders the still flawless skin of her perfect face.

All at once, he realized the dream world he was in. Eyes closed the whole time. He gently opened one eye, frowning his forehead into waves of anxious despair as he did. He breathed a sigh of relief as he realized she was still there. But then he noticed someone next to her. A mannequin-like human figure, complete with the aquiline nose and the chiseled features, holding the woman in his large masculine arms.

The writer smiled and walked away, arms akimbo.

Well of course, that was the writer. If it had been me or say, Ethan Hawke, the dialogue would have been different. Firstly, approach when alone. Very important. No use wasting time in meaningless reveries. So something more like,

Alright, alright. Think of it like this. Um, uh, jump ahead, ten, twenty years, okay, and you're married. Only your marriage doesn't have that same energy that it used to have, you know. You start to blame your husband. You start to think about all those guys you've met in your life, and what might have happened if you'd picked up with one of them, right? Well, I'm one of those guys. That's me, you know. So think of this as time travel, from then, to now, uh, to find out what you're missing out on. See, what this really could be is a gigantic favor to both you and your future husband, to find out that you're not missing out on anything. I'm just as big a loser as he is, totally unmotivated, totally boring, and, uh, you made the right choice, and you're really happy

Yes. Absolutely. Without batting an eyelid. Well, maybe winking once or twice. ;).

Goodbye my lover...

2006-01-30T02:35:00.000-08:00

Goodbye my lover.
Goodbye my friend.
You have been the one.
You have been the one for me.

The first time I saw her, I did not know how to feel. There was this emptiness which manifested itself and as soon as I realized that it was there, it was quenched by her. Those days, I spent all my waking hours with her. I was always physically drained but forever mentally charged. Ready for her. I felt her and knew she felt me too. It was one of those miraculous events that change your life. She was. She was beautiful.

I've kissed your lips and held your head.
Shared your dreams and shared your bed.
I know you well, I know your smell.
I've been addicted to you.

The second time was different. It was a more intellectual interaction. Not many people get to feel what I did. Don’t mistake me; I had the time of my life. It was brilliant. Perhaps not comprehendible by everyone; not enjoyable by all. But our relationship showed shades of reaching places I had never been before. But as before, as fast as our meeting began, it had to end. I didn’t want it to. But it had to. I was left with a bittersweet taste in my mouth, not knowing whether I wanted more or whether I should move away before I gave in too much.

I know your fears and you know mine.
We've had our doubts but now we're fine,
And I love you, I swear that's true.
I cannot live without you.

This time around I couldn’t sit around for just cerebral communications. I had grown weary in her absence. Life was forever changing. Swirling whirlpools in the endless waterfall of time. She didn’t disappoint me this time. She opened my eyes to so many things. Some things which I now have grown to regret but mostly things for which I will forever be grateful. She was responsible for some of the strongest bridges that I have built in my life, bonds that I can never forget. She taught me how to make decisions, how to set priorities, how to know what is right and what is not, how to appreciate beauty, how to be happy for the simple pleasures in life. Taught me to realize the wonder that is life. And for that I can never repay her.

Did I disappoint you or let you down?
Should I be feeling guilty or let the judges frown?
'Cause I saw the end before we'd begun,
Yes I saw you were blinded and I knew I had won.

So I took what's mine by eternal right.
Took your soul out into the night.
It may be over but it won't stop there,
I am here for you if you'd only care.

It was inevitable. The journey, even before it announced its departure, had sounded its arrival. There was no way one could avoid that which is a certainty. Tautological. I probably neglected her in the light of this. I should perhaps have not. I did not have it in me to have her in my arms one more time knowing fully well that it would be the last time I could. That would be far too painful. For the both of us. Anyways, she seemed different. Or maybe it was me. Too complicated the situation was. And finally there was the moment I was dreading, the moment when you get to say good bye. You hope to part ways on a high. But alas, that did not happen. Just after though, I did have a fleeting thought of her. I wanted to shed a tear for all the memories we had had. I tried. I couldn’t.

Thanks to James Blunt.

Dedicated to Saarang.

Type type

2006-01-23T07:57:00.000-08:00

Recently, a friend insisted that I visit a blog on a claim that the posts on the before-mentioned did not make any sense to him. I did grace the blog with my presence shortly afterwards, expecting at most a gigantic chaotic pile of complex lexical convolutions. But fortunately or otherwise, that wasn’t the case. I chanced upon this post whose words though making sense individually, well pretty much *sense*, seemed to be carefully constructed in such a way that a normal human being, well versed in the ways of the English language would find himself despondently hopelessly and downright miserably lost in the mother of all preposterous ludicrous labyrinths. That is mildly putting it, of course.

Well, moving on. While reading a couple of other equally entertaining posts, we decided to read the comments, the numerical count of which seemed always to belittle Abraham Lincoln’s oft-repeated figure. Relieved was I as there were many a spam comment dancing away to glory, probably a just commentary to the essay. But there was one statement in which a person took offense to the blogger’s stereotyping a set of people for doing something; the contents of the actual observation elude me. But then my friend asked me, “What’s wrong in stereotypes?” I replied, nonchalantly, “People don’t like to be stereotyped”, as I continued to read through the rest of the junk comments, which by the way, are sometimes very funny and at times even interesting. My friend still not satisfied with my indifferent answer, persists, “But kyun? What’s wrong with being a stereotype?”

Is there anything wrong with being a stereotype? Being typecast as the studious type? As the athlete? As the intellectual idealistic hypocrite? As the single-digit IQed American President? Is there anything wrong with being labeled anything?

Without going into the morality and ethics of the whole pigeonholing concept, an honest attempt to understand why, if actually empirically or factually genuine, do people not want to be stereotyped. What happens when you associate someone with a particular set of people is that they start feeling that they are no longer unique. Absolutely necessary. Of divine cosmic importance. Or something like that. For since they are now of a particular collection of individuals, they can be replaced! Their existence is no longer barterable. Blackmailable. Life will carry on, for the better part, as always without them. That’s taking it too far sometimes, but hey, I’m just trying to don the psychologist’s cap.

My friend’s repartee was “In a colony of ants, all the worker ants are undistinguishable and yet without the ants, the colony can’t survive.” True. But this isn’t contradictory to what I said. My parallel to this situation would mean that assuming ants have human feelings and weaknesses, all the obsequious worker ants would be suffering from a titanic mental depression since as an individual, no ant can go on strike and refuse to work for he can be replaced without much hue and cry.

And to think I would make a good psychiatrist ;).

Thinking about it, this reasonably explains the blog which started the whole issue. A way to stand apart. Writing things far beyond an average human’s capacity? Beyond or below is debatable but with due respect to all that is unknown, I shall just say that known is a drop. It’s like how all girls love to flaunt the books that they are ostensibly reading or have read. If by some miraculous inexplicable circumstances, you need a random sampling on the most arbitrary books ever written whose very title sounds cerebrally challenging, all you have to do is to obtain the names of the favourite works of “literature” from females in the age-group 17-23. Well, the age part was kind of made up, but the rest of the information is remarkable precise, subject of course to market fluctuations. : ) .

All said and done, stereotyping is something we all do, subconsciously at best. Take even me for example. When I come across a girl whose presence makes my heart skip a beat (yes, there are some of them like that), there are usually three categories into which I classify her.

Type 1: Beautiful. Having qualities that delight the sense of sight. Not just good-looking. Not just pretty. There is only one word for this type and I reiterate, beautiful. There is a difference between this adjective and the other nearly synonymous ones. Beauty is permanent.

Type 2: Sexy. Hot. Having qualities that delight you to a euphoric feeling of bliss. In whose presence, you are unable to hold a single thought other than about the person herself.

Type 3: (My favourite) This type deserves special mention because of the scarcity with which they exist. And because they are most difficult to describe. Sometimes, and I do not shirk to repeat, however rare that sometimes is, you meet someone and on meeting that person your whole behaviour changes. Some well-known symptoms include speechlessness and/or uttering of nonsensical word-like sounds, endless staring and/or gawking with mouth open with helpful doses of drooling, etc. You just wish to put your hands together and pray to this Goddess. Yes, I guess the best word to sum up this category would be Goddess.

There you go, deep psychological bullshit from yours truly. Chicken soup for the nearly sane soul. Whatever.

And yes, any female hoping to get typified into 1,2,3, drop in your details. With 2 passport size photographs. And contact number. I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.

Reality leaves a lot to the imagination

2006-01-16T14:45:00.000-08:00

The difference between reality and fiction? Fiction has to make sense. The deal with reality is that most of the time, quite tersely put, life is funnier than fiction. It sure-as-hell is stranger than it. But alas, as a poet would put it rather sweetly, we have no time to stand and stare. It is of utmost necessity to one’s health, nay, sanity, to relish the simple pleasures that is offered to us as part of the daily life that we live. Iit’s the small eclectic day-to-day delights that overwhelm the ostentatious or substantial successes that grace us with their presences, albeit meagerly and insufficiently. The day a hot cup of tea loses its taste, is the day you lose your soul to the devil…

In light of this philosophical knowledge, not really new-found yet perhaps newly realized, I decide it best to recount two interesting and perhaps even humourous anecdotes from the life of yours truly.

I begin.

(A prelude to this story must include the fact that the following is ostensibly a secret to be maintained between the secret-teller and mois, the supposed secret-keeper. I shall try to retain its sanctity as much as possible… )

X: hehe..do you wanna know something funny? do you remember N? She joined the same time as me….

Me: I think you’re referring to M not N

X: Yeah M, do you remember her?

X: Of course you do, you suggested :D

Me: yeah I do :D

Me: why

X: haha..i think she was lesbian...she was the first person who kissed me..haha..shocking or what? at the time, i didnt think much of it..but she took me up to the terrace or whatever and kissed me..i dont think id hit puberty yet then..haha..she even wrote me love letters..once it started grossing me out, i stopped talking to her..which was relatively soon i think

Me: lololol

Me: Are you bsing me or is this real??

Me: I would lol if it were real, but somehow doesn’t seem real

X: well suit yourself. ive gotta be proud of myself..being kissed all the way back in sixth..that rhymes...i think i hit puberty later on that year

Me: thanks for all that news... Im scheduling an appointment with the nearest shrink as we speak

X: what has any of that got to do with you?

Me: well she was one of my crushes :P

Me: :D

X: lol!

X: she was quite a cutie...i dont blame you! But thats awesome! san falls for a lesbian..but she wasn’t outta the closet at that point i guess

Me: I have your word vs my intuition

Me: I go for the latter :D

I still don’t know how true this story really is but if it is, I am going to sue my intuition for suspected character defamation…

Quake 3 is quite an engrossing game and it looks really complicated for the beginners. Especially the console commands. There are like a gazillion commands each with their infinite possibilities. But built in into this extraordinary game, is the auto complete feature, which provides an automatic completion to an incomplete command on pressing the TAB button. For example, pressing q and TAB would result in quit for it is the only quake command which starts with a q.

As soon as a newbie enters a quake server he is flooded by messages typed by the players. And the thing which usually strikes any greenhorn the most is the myriad colours that seem to be floating around the place. Alas, being unaccustomed to this colour fest, he feels lonely and insipid. He yearns to learn the secret command. His hands twitch with fervent expectation. He has to know.

One such newbie, we shall call him newbie since I really can’t remember who he was, was feeling really burdened by his ignorance to produce the hues and shades he saw engulfing the screen in front of him. Or so I assume. And even as the game went on with much zest, he frequently interrupted rather rudely and uncouthly as he sought to find the way to attain coloured nirvana. Apparently.

I was pissed. Usually, I am not. But this guy was getting on my nerves. On our nerves. So I tell him,

Me: Dude, type disco, press TAB and enter

Newbie: disco, TAB and enter?

Me: Yeah da, disco as in the colourful thing

Me: Shiny disco balls … you get the point?

Newbie: Yeah sure!

Newbie disconnected

Disco + Tab ~ Disconnect

Sometimes I am just cruel. Mwahahaha.

The real trouble with reality is there’s no back ground music.

I suggest the American Beauty sound track. It works for me.

The Thin Line

2006-01-09T17:46:00.000-08:00

Dear Diary,

Today school was quite boring save for a very strange happening. As is evident, my rather colourless life in this strict no-nonsense Boys-And-Girls-Are-Forbidden-Even-Visual-Contact-School, has steered away from the mention of any young guys. But today I had the utmost displeasure of meeting one of these guys. The topper of the boys’ school, in fact. Usually I try to contain my disgust at meeting repulsive people but then again who else could possibly be reading my diary. (Except my somewhat rude and brusque brother…) This guy, let us call him ST, can best be described as resembling the underbelly of a frog. Make that an ugly frog. And the worst part was that I think he liked me. I had the funniest feeling he kept stealing glances at me… Yuck!

…

Dear Diary,

After a long time, I am finding some hidden enthusiasm to study! Perhaps it’s because I am doing so well in school that all of a sudden all I want to do is pick up some book and start learning and revising… I sincerely hope this zeal is not short-lived… Also ST called me for the first time today; in fact he called our landline! Ostensibly to congratulate me on doing well in the exams even though he got more marks than me… idiot. But it was really fun talking to him… we talked nearly for half an hour. I remember that the first time I mentioned him in my diary I made an uncalled-for discourteous boorish reference to him involving an amphibian… truth be told, he still does remind me of the same… just not an ugly frog… In other unrelated news, Surya looks amazing in his new film. My brother came home from hostel today and true to his style, compared the new look of Surya to a beggar, a rowdy, a mental patient and a character out of a Looney toons show. Amusing albeit oh-so-not-true!

…

Dear Diary,

As my annual exams come to an end, it has been a tiring and painful ride this year at school. Exams were taxing and at some points I just wanted to throw my books away in the sheer angst of the system. Indian academia is all screwed up. Or I think that’s what Amma said. ST laughed when I told him this and replied India is all screwed up… crazy fool he is. But what can I do? I seem to be talking to him a lot these days… in fact for all you know, I could be obsessed with him. OBSESSED! I am fixated on him, of all the people in the world. Of all the Orlando Blooms and Suryas and such… this is quite depressing for me. I think I should try to avoid him for a while… get back in tune with reality…. Who am I kidding?

…

Dear Diary,

Finally a brief reprieve from exams. I feel that all I am doing these days is looking at books and writing papers. I have been cautious to use “looking at books” because it is quite debatable whether I am actually acquiring any additional knowledge these days with a book in my hand. Revision is so drab and sometimes I feel I may be unlearning things! My phone calls are the only things that help me cling to the semblances of sanity that I still retain. Radhika tells me I am studying too much and should take a break. Her idea of a break involves a lot of Inu Yasha! Chaya agrees with Radhika on the first remark but is adamant that I should get myself a boyfriend! I can’t wait to tell Amma that one… already her opinion of Chaya is at an all-time low… judgmental nadir so to speak. ST and I speak more often these days and if not on the phone, there’s always Yahoo. Recently ST told me he has a girlfriend but he refused to divulge more details. Personally I think he is just lieing, trying to show off, but then why could that be…

…

Dear Diary,

After many days of heated discussion with Amma and even some terse yet interesting views of my brother, the proverbial cat is out of the bag. What began as an exercise in stupidity has escalated to new heights of joblessness (only that hopefully). ST sort of admitted that it was he who was chatting under the pseudonym of Anniyan and Roberto. I was already kind of sure it was him, but anyways I think he said so himself today. But he still vehemently persists that Riya is his girlfriend; could it be that what Amma says is true and she also is yet another nom de plume of his? Uh, to think that I was obsessed with this guy! What a joke… I wrote a new poem today about euthanasia. I got a lot of rave reviews including advice to talk to a shrink. Supposedly I am now obsessed with death. From the frying pan, into the fire!?!

…

Dear Diary,

I had a conference with ST and Riya on the phone. I wonder why that idiot makes me go through this ordeal every time. I hate talking to that girl and I abhor talking to both of them simulataneously...He claims she is clever because she helps her friends cheat using chits in the exam. What a loser… Appa is getting worried that I keep talking to ST a lot these days. Our telephonic interactions stretch to half an hour almost daily and the chatting is beyond countable means. I told my brother I read his blog and he wasn’t at all shocked as I expected him to be. He just replied asking “Are you still obsessed with him?” and though the “him” was unreferenced, I knew he could have been alluding to just one thing… I don’t know whether to be angry at him or not.

…

Dear Diary,

New Years passed eventless but we all stayed up beyond midnight. Bro seemed disinterested in the whole thing; kept claiming New Year was a farce… Talked to Chaya and ST and wished them a Happy New Year… I hope this year will be great because I will be giving my 12^th standard exams in less than 4 months! I guess I will be doing medicine soon enough, hopefully in Ramachandra. Soon.

…

Dear Diary,

Today is my birthday! I am seventeen! Yeah!

…

This post contains characters and events some of which bear references to actual people and their lives. Since I am neither omnipresent nor omnipotent, not all of it is true. Parts of the above are products of the brilliant creativity of the twisted mind of yours truly. Offense to any party concerned is regrettable.

Happy Birthday Sis!

A slightly belated Happy New Year

2006-01-03T07:52:00.000-08:00

I woke up on January the first as usual. Casually I walked around the house, picking up the newspaper to read leisurely as is my daily routine. Needless to say, my sister and parents were already all dressed up and watching television. I think.

Is the New Year a very important festivity? The ones debating for the topic claim it represents the blossoming of a completely pristine, hopefully joyous, set of 12 months or 52 weeks or any such numerically acceptable time period. The opposition rebuke that 1^st January is as good or bad as any other of the 365 alternatives and that it need not be entitled to any special status. It represents a time to make resolutions? Resolutions made on Feb 23^rd are as good as those made on New Years. To the best of my knowledge it has no planetary basis and is, much like how the birthday of Jesus, Christmas was chosen to best fit the people’s interests to further the propagation of the religion, celebrated on an universally convenient date.

Clearly, I don’t deem it as all that significant. To me, it is yet another gimmick for the greeting card companies and the cable channels to advertise with. Greeting card and the cable channels? I must pardon myself. It is now a publicity stunt for every commercial enterprise under the sun. New Year sales! Selling junk overmarked by 10% at a discount of 5%! Woohoo! Go ye philistines, go and splurge, it’s a discount! Bah, humbug.

Nevertheless, it is a day on which humanity treats its brethren with a little more respect. Jovial faces, cheerful conversations, courteous greetings. A day spent visiting family and friends and even, calling on old acquaintances and making new ones. After all, what better day than New Year to talk to that grumpy rude friend of yours with whom you’ve had no contact in 5 years. New Years is also most appropriate to walk up to that girl with the mysterious captivating black eyes sitting alone on the table next to yours. Or so I’ve heard.

2006. I suppose the greatest change that it instigates is that my dates change from x/x/05 to x/x/06. Lame. The Gregorian year seems to have caught on with an unfathomably large percentage of the world’s population. I find the Chinese calendar much cooler, what with its animals and all. Wouldn’t it be awesome if our dates were something like 04/02/Dragon? Stupid Pope Gregory XIII… :P

Perhaps under the influence of the high spirits that entail the New Year celebrations, umm pun-intended, IIM decided to announce their results. Which was good, except for the time when I thought BlackI meant someone’s dog. Oh the humiliation, the humiliation. Sometimes even when you know the ineffectiveness and futility in some things, you seek to gain from it. I hate competitiveness. But then that’s like hating your ego. Why do you fight something when you should perhaps learn to live and perhaps even strive to thrive from it. Crap, the rhyming kills the serious tone.

The CAT excluded, yet another vile gargantuan beast was tamed yesterday. King Kong – Peter Jackson. Entertaining to the core. Anyone who has the fortitude to sit through three and a quarter hours will agree. Amazing graphics. Amazing yes, but perhaps a little overdone. Some of those enlarged insects, the horribly huge cockroaches and their ilk were, quite frankly, extremely gross. But, then this sublime blend of Jurassic Park’s graphics, subtle yet funny Jack Blackesque humour, the almost realistic human sentiments of the Big Ape as in previous movies of the same name – excellent.

Ending on a rather sad note, the protagonist of this wonderful blog injured his foot. Just a small sprain. Nothing a couple of days of self medicated bed rest and lots of sleep can’t heal. But unbeknownst to most who curiously take an interest, he is actually slightly happy. This was inevitable. The rubberband had to snap. (Wink Wink)

His this week

2005-12-24T22:47:00.000-08:00

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 and S. Then, he smiled.

Le Royal Meridian. A dinner treat. The doors opened into a large lounge area where a magnificent Christmas tree, or rather Holiday tree to be politically correct, greeted them. The grandeur of all the decorations was quite noteworthy. Something he will have to get used to, he reminded himself.

*Clink*

A few toasts, some interesting food and remarkable anecdotes later, he was caught thinking to himself. He sincerely hoped he had taken the right decision. But then, the trouble is that it isn’t till much later that we realize a mistake, he noted. He saw B and P in similar reflective poses. He smiled.

Thursday

He congratulated his good friend, R for getting placed in Google. Both of them looked genuinely happy with their achievements however different and perhaps contradictory the two routes were. He tried to imagine R in his shoes and vice versa. They laughed over the very idea.

He saw another one of his good friends, K later. One of the final set of eleven from yesterday. He gesticulated a hi to K and mumbled a thank you for his congrats. He wasn’t sure how to respond. He felt a twinge of sadness blossoming in his field of joy. It was not much later when he met yet another friend T, an old schoolmate and also one of the finalists, over a cup of tea, when he came to know that K had taken the rejection badly. Also, although T looked impervious, he remembered B telling him T had been quite disappointed. As they parted, he told T of how he had heard that T had been so close to making it. As true as this was, he hoped it had had the right impact on T. In the corner of his eye, he saw a smile on T’s face. Walking back, he smiled.

Friday

He penned a mail to the other company which had given him an offer. In his best interests, he claimed. He genuinely regretted having to write it. He thought back to the wonderful summer. Thanks for the unforgettable memories, he added. He clicked Send.

J, a tenth standard classmate, called him. He hadn’t seen J in quite some time now. They decided on meeting the following day. He reminded himself to call some of his other friends as well. He called M and they talked a little. M had to refuse because he had to study but asked about the twelfth standard reunion. Just thinking about M’s words, he chuckled to himself. Sure, he replied, hoping that this time atleast, the plan moves from beyond just the initial designs.

Later that evening, he dropped in on his grandparents. In the course of their brief conversation, his grandfather stated, rather stoically, that the company would teach him some good things and then some bad things. In almost the exact words. Nonplussed as he was, he thought it best not to question the remark. He said, that’s true of life too. His grandfather laughed. He couldn’t resist a smile.

Saturday

Thanks to J’s efforts, a mini reunion with some of his tenth standard classmates was on the cards. J was in the naval forces. The one studying to be a doctor, S, graced them with his presence. He was reminded of the words mosaic for some reason. They planned to meet over quake, which oddly enough, was not something he would have preferred. He would have rather chosen a place to eat.

The rendezvous did take place as intended. He realized they actually didn’t have much to talk about. A few niceties later, they got down to gaming. He was thankful. They had avoided a situation which was leading to one of embarrassing uncomfortable awkward silence. He railed and he rocketed until J asked him whether he did anything else in college. He said no and smiled.

It was 9 O’clock and he received a call. It was the beautiful HR lady from the other company. She called in to ask about the three classmates who they had offered a job. She assures him irrespective of his replies, their offers would remain in tact. He was still wary of her questions and tried best to be as diplomatic as possible. He did give one biased answer though. Just before hanging up, she quipped she would catch him by his neck sometime next week. He placed the receiver down and wondered what to feel. He thought about smiling but decided against it.

Sunday

He woke up pretty late as is routine during these winter vacations. In fact, it’s a result of the lethargy induced over last semester. He checked his messages and only then he realized that it was Christmas. One of them was rather good. It read

Merry Christmas! Have a lovely day.. May all things happen your way..
Beers,
G

He was very amused. A smile was predestined.

Smile and the world smiles with you. A smile is momentary, but the memory of it sometimes lasts forever. None is so rich or mighty that he cannot get along without it and none is so poor that he cannot be made rich by it. Yet a smile cannot be bought, begged, borrowed, or stolen, for it is something that is of no value to anyone until it is given away. Some people are too tired to give you a smile. Give them one of yours, as none needs a smile so much as he who has no more to give.

Sometimes remembering random quotes helps.

Merry Christmas.

Chat

2005-12-16T03:08:00.000-08:00

*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, when Mena Suvari says “Thank you, I don’t think there’s anything worse than being ordinary”

Me: That comes right at the end right.

Me: Whats wrong with it??

Priya: Well, its not true is it? Whats wrong in being ordinary?

Me: Nothing wrong… but you won’t get too far in life being ordinary

Priya: What do you mean?

Priya: Normal ppl don’t do well?

Me: That’s not what I meant.

Me: You wont achieve something if you’re not going the road less traveled…

Priya: Hmm, I don’t know… I am quite content with being normal

Me: And normal by what standards are you? :P

Priya: Huh? What da?

Me: Nothing, I was just trying to hit on you

Me: I cant even flirt properly…

Priya: lol :)

Me: But back to the topic, tell me atleast one person who is “normal” and famous?

Priya: Famous? You are conveniently misinterpreting the statement…

Priya: “…there’s nothing worse than being ordinary”

Me: Ok, so I should say, “normal” and happy?

Me: “Ordinary” and happy?

Priya: So many people….for example, me…

Me: In my opinion, you’re not normal in the proverbial skin deep characteristic.

Priya: So I’m ugly?

Priya: :P

Me: Look who’s fishing for compliments… :D

Priya: Hehe

Me: Anyways I don’t think it is right to judge who is normal and who is not

Priya: True true

Me: One man’s meat is another man’s poison

Priya: Are you normal?

Me: By my standards yes

Priya: And by mine, no

Me: Umm, are you trying to flirt with me ;)?

Priya: Po da …

Me: Che…

Me: Personally this question is as meaningless as asking someone whether they like odd or even numbers…

Priya: Odd

Me: Yes and odd and meaningless…

Priya: No da, odd numbers. I like odd numbers.

Me: Really? Me likes even.

Me: Something about the symmetry of even numbers…

Priya: Hehe what symmetry of zero?

Me: I don’t know… I just like even numbers.

Me: Why you like odd?

Priya: I don’t know… I just like odd numbers.

Priya: I also like cut, copy and paste…

Me: lol :)

Priya: What colour do you like?

Me: I thought I already told you no, blue or black…

Priya: Hmm, that tells me a lot about you

Me: Che, what crap

Me: How many times to tell you that all this about favourite colour lendu personalities and all is total crap

Priya: Oho so you don’t believe in horoscopes also?

Priya: In the zodiac sign?

Me: I don’t believe, but I read them daily as the true hypocrite that I am

Priya: ? what?

Me: A bad attempt at a joke?

Priya: Hehe. Bad wonly.

Me: Nooooo…. Please laugh for my joke, please….

Priya: No I won’t…

Me: Please di, I want to see you smile atleast

Priya: Ok :D

Me: Ahh, beautiful…

Priya: thu…

Me: Hehe, me signing off now… catch you tomorrow…

Priya: Same time?

Me: Yeah same time same place.

Priya: Hehe, ok….bye!

Me: ttyl

Me: Bye

Priya: ttyl

Priya: tc

Me: tc

Priya: Now stop…. :)

Why did he have to sign out so quickly today? Was it something I said? No matter, I’ll ask him tomorrow.

Hari chuckled to himself as he ran to Rahul’s room to tell him about today’s conversation.

Stupid fool.

Confucius.com says Virtual Love is Blind.

Abracadabra

2005-12-08T22:45:00.000-08:00

"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 ability to transform one into a completely different world of fantasy and fiction and yet, at the same time, in such a way, that the reader actually believes everything as if it were reality. You tell me you haven't read Harry Potter? It hit the world by storm when it released. Some fifty years ago I think. "
"I tried reading the book but I couldn't get far. Too big...."
"Sheesh... I really feel sorry for all of us. We don't read anything at all, everything is read to us. Damn all these transspeechliterators. They are killing books. Bibliophiles like me should start a revolution..."
"Like your other revolutions? What were they? Ban All NUts BUt PeanUts (BANUBUPU), Death fOr Democracies, Dictators LivE(DODDLe)..."
"Hmph. You philistines will never understand the onus is always on us revolutionaries. If it wasn't for the first person to start Anti COffee RevolutioN (ACORN), we would still be drinking that horrible excuse for a liquid, so innocently termed coffee. I shudder to think how the world would be if we still had legal coffee..."
"True. True. But I heard that some countries still grow coffee. Illegally of course..."
"Blasted Universal Stigmata Asses.... all they care about is themselves. They ought to be chastised more. I always thought they should have been punished more at the end of World War 3."
"Ken, it was a revolution which led to the World War 3 if you remember correctly. The Bush Revolution after the legendary President."
"Well, a black sheep of a revolution. I agree."
"Hmm, yeah..."
"Well anyways we were talking about books weren't we, before we so rudely meandered onto other things. I remember the first time I read the Chronicles of Narnia. I still vouch for their brilliance, perhaps even better than the LOTR trilogy. That summer when I got those seven books from my aunt were so memorable..."
"Ah, phooey Ken."
"Hmm, you insipid indolent imbecile. Wow, an amusing alliteration. Wow, again..."
"Stop it. Fool."
"Well, I suppose you're one of those ignaramuses who claim the movies were much better. The acting adds to the entertainment. Book are merely to be read. A picture is worth a thousand words. Yada yada yada, blah blah blah..."
"Of course. A book pales before a movie. The movie brings to life characters you have faint figures of in your head..."
"Do you even have an imagination..."
"Shut up and let me continue. As I was saying, it creates real people out of fictional individuals. And even you can't deny that having seen the movies, when you read those books, you relate the actors as you visualise the scene. Don't you?"
"Well, sometimes yes. But..."
"Sshhh. And there are some rather unnecessary details in the books which have to be edited..."
"Aaah, I can no longer remain silent at your stupidity. Those "unnecessary" details are the intricate complications added by the author. They play around in your head twisting what you have read with what could be. It adds depth to the story. And at times leaves interesting detours to what you thought was a cul-de-sac."
"Foolish mortal, you dare question me!", shouted Molly as she metamorphosised into a huge reddish brown monster with long spiked tail and a couple of intimidating forked tongues. "Do I believe in witches and wizards you asked? Hahaha... I still don't. But I do believe in..."
"Wamburs.", said Ken, matter-of-factly. His face had been stoic during this time, which was misinterpreted by Molly as him being at a loss of words being shell-shocked. It was anything but.
"Wambur I am" , Molly continued with a lower voice and looking distressed. But then suddenly she pounced forward with all her fangs and claws ready to attack.
Ken mumbled something in a language similar to Elvish. He looked up at this gargantuan excuse for a creature and smiled. *Snap*. He snapped his fingers.
"Wamburs are no match for Wizards", Ken stated as Molly disintegrated into invisible specks of dust. "She should have read her books."
Ken got up and went home, having completed his Defense Against Dark Arts homework successfully.

I sneezed, and a semester went by

2005-12-02T05:07:00.000-08:00

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, writing a million meaningless posts in an attempt to satisfy a burgeoning ego as well as the entire enchanting world of blogging, the rather irregular visits to Hi-Look and the inevitable sumptuous bread-omlette that ensued, the forging of new friendships and the rejuvination of past bonds and all the procrastination in every possible path of life. Praise the Lord for granting me skills of being able to antonymize events into those somewhat interesting through subtle prevarication...

Yes, that said, I still have a Mini Project report to be completed. Which is going to be difficult seeing that certain necessary events for writing the report seem to have been conveniently forgotten. Like doing the Mini Project. And I can only hope my Self Study Prof does not suddenly remember I am in his course and through serendipitously passes me. *Gulp*

This being the last post of the semester, better end on a happy note. The undisputed King of Limerix strikes again. Ya Ya, me only. LimericKing. For those fortunate few who havent seen the piece and who are still of an opinion that the literary abilities of our institute are noteworthy, I present my entry. (The question was to fill in a maximum of 5 stanzas between 4 already provided stanzas. Intuitively and mathematically, its obviously going to be quite a long post...)

1)
He wanted an undergraduate degree
And decided to pursue it from IIT
But he heard tales of yore
Filled with hardships galore
Of people struggling to beat the monster JEE.

Coaching classes he started to attend
Alas, with the others he did not blend
In all his tests
He was below the rest
SO his parents found him somewhere else to send.

In the shrine of the Sacred Bronx
Run by 3 elderly Shaolin monks
He studied day and night
with but one goal in sight
To try to correct all his wrongs.

But try as he might, he was failing
And many a time thought about bailing
But then his teacher Sun Tze,
Told him, " There is a way,
Try to go around the world sailing..."

So that he did, for two years
Alone in his boat, casting away all fears
He read all subjects
No longer one of the rejects
He felt so happy that he shed a few tears.

Thus after finishing all his tuition arrears
He sought blessing from Swami GuGu, Lord of seers
With it he became the best
And on the day of the test
Succeeded so well that he said "Cheers!".

2)
After two years of complete sequester
He was thrown headlong into Schrodinger
Even as the electron went round
The waves were quite profound
And group study seemed to be the only answer.

Down the years, from all the late night mugging
Hunger forever had his stomach hugging
He learnt how to cook
And his friends could only look
As he made fabulous omlettes and custard pudding.

So study and study he did
Until one day he blew his lid
He stopped it all
And opened a stall
Which from the authorities he hid.

He named it the Dragon's Lair of food
And soon he came to be known as the Chef Dude
Every IITian came to eat
Breakfast, lunch, dinner or treat
But alas the Dean found out and had him sued.

The Dean had a witness for the case
who was a disgruntled customer with an ugly face
She had ordered a masala tea
But only got an ordinary
And Chef Dude accepted the mistake with grace.

But the tea girl would not desist
From complaining to the Dean, she couldn't resist
And when he was caught
He cried, " I hope you rot,
You tea girl who looks like a witch's cyst."

3)
In facing the dread inquisition
He could not defend his position
So it shouldn't surprise
When he was apprised
Of the dean's decision.

"The Dragon's Lair of food's reign is now over
For it used the insti's sugar, salt and clover
It is wrong and illegal
But he is young and looks regal
So his punishment is he must walk my dog, Rover."

At this, Chef Dude was so stunned
Because he had only used his fund
But he thought it best
Not to protest
Though secretly he wanted the Dean gunned.

Falsely accused and without his stall
Chef Dude plotted to avenge his fall
So daily as he walked Rover
He became the Dean's daughter's lover
And they had made out in the Dean's dining hall.

By the time the Dean finally found out it was all too late
He had it to accept this as a cruel twist of fate
The Dragon's Lair was reopened
Joy and happiness for many a friend
As for Chef Dude, finally, everything turned out great.

Meanwhile all of four amazing years had passed
He started to look back and reflect on his past
He had got himself a wife
A business, a fabulous life
And the Mercedes the Dean gave as dowry which was damn fast.

4)
Thus he finally bade adieu
To an institute which toughened his every sinew
Filled with many a twist and turn
In his attempts to learn
In this exalted milieu.

PS: Yes, I too cannot understand how I won first. :). *Thanks Bhaand*

Guy

2005-11-28T09:49:00.000-08:00

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 the rolling-on-the-floor-laughing humour variety. They were less involved.

He was French. He was Guy De Maupassant. And google him I did. But what I found was fascinating, and to an extent disturbing.

That is the inspiration for this post.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was indeed ironical that I am here in this institute. Ironical indeed. Some of my best works are about madness. Insanity. And here I am, locked up like all the other mentally unsound. Hilarious.

Whenever I close my eyes, I am taken back in time. It's like my own personal journey. To those wonderful years I spent writing poems. Short stories. Even novels, which I personally thought were quite distasteful. On the bank of the river Seine. The calm and serene Seine. Around her, the crowds went about their life, unmindful and perhaps, ungrateful for all they had. But I am indebted to them. Oh yes. For they, as ignorant as could be, were my muses. They would star in my works be it Mathilde Loisel or Maitre Hauchecorne.

Observation is the key to an artist's success. He has to observe everything. Details. Details are where the ordinary pale in comparison to the extraodinary. Be it the colour of the brooch worn by the cute madam as she rushes to buy her groceries or the way the wings of a dove flap as it leaves its perched harbour of a tree rising into the uncertanity of the open sky. The artist, a painter, a sculptor or an author, as I am, has to transport the reader into his world. They have to see through his eyes, hear through his ears and touch through his skin. That is the mark of a really great artist. And that was who I strived to be.

Those days the stories just flowed from my head into the ink as if an overflowing dam had been let loose. The stories, the characters, the plot. All of them had to be perfect though. There could be no doubt in the reader's mind of the intention of any part of a story or a poem. They were there and they were there for a reason. Such had to be my work. Such has to be any great piece of work.

That was then. But now its different. My priorities have changed. I no longer wish to be the best. I have proved enough. But it is puzzling to me how I, in the prime of my life, would be so ignorant to not comprehend all that I know now. But I'm glad I learnt. It was not more than ten years ago when I realised the reality of it all. How I had been so naive. So innocent.

The first time I noticed Them were when I was watching out my window. I could feel something on me that I couldn't quite explain. An uneasiness. A sense of nausea. A sudden feeling to stand up and shake it up suddenly enveloped me. And I did. And They were gone.

It wasn't until much later that I realised what They were doing. They were inside me. They were trying to kill me. Oh yes, They sure were. Running all through my body, killing everything in their part mercilessly. Truculently. I tried my best to kill them all. But they wouldn't go away. And then, it struck me that if I were to cut off their airsupply, they would cease to be. They would no longer trouble me. They would be eliminated.

And that was the morning before I moved into this institute. I was found trying to kill Them by cutting their airsupply. The doctors, well. The doctors can be ignorant sometimes. I can't blame them. Not all of us are blessed to be enlightened thus. Well, they thought I was trying to kill myself. I tried to explain the situation to them. They listened with their fictious concerned faces masking their smiles of ill-humour and their contrived look of pathos. They suggested I move in here for my own safety. I agreed.

Overall I feel much safer here. Away from all of Them. Its so quiet here. So quiet. One or two of Them still come here once in a while. But I take care of them. I find that writing helps. I try to tell the truth to all those who can understand. The ones who can draw a parallel to what I am saying will agree to that fact that these are my best works. The others, the skeptic critics, well, to them, I can only say that I hope they enjoy their proverbial bliss.

I know my time is near. I can feel it. I somehow don't want to die as yet. Truth be told, I am somewhat afraid of the whole ordeal. Its wierd that to experience the only human condition that has yet to be explained from a first hand account, one would cease to actually be. It is somewhat like a secret which you cannot tell anyone. The archetypical perfect secret. But I don't want to know the secret. Not yet. I don't think I can handle all that pain.

I can feel one of Them somewhere. Its somewhere new this time. I ... I don't know what to do. Oh My God, is this what death feels like? Strange that I would resort to calling out the name of God whose very existence I question. Strange is the world of man. Strange.

AAh.

LV - Roman Ishtyle

2005-11-24T07:16:00.000-08:00

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 removed her shades.

“…The latest victim was identified as a Roger Berg.”

Dear God,

Why won’t Amanda love me? She loves that stupid surfer Ben. I hope he gets bit by a shark. Am I not good looking enough? Smart enough? Tall enough? Interesting enough?

Can you please send Ben to heaven quickly? In 13 years I have never asked you anything else… please!

Thanks,

Susan Miller

“President, apparently a bomb blast has killed 3 Brazilian soldiers.”, said Penthouseleesa Wheat.

“Oh my God, we must declare tomorrow a national holiday and mourn the death of these brave souls,” replied Doobya, the President of Universal Stigmata.

“Ok... will do Sir.”

“Yes. Yes. By the way, how many billions are there in one Brazilian?”

“You are my superman, kiddo.”

“Yes dad. I can fly and can stop bullets.”

Tom laughed and ruffled young Paul’s hair. “So ready to go to the barber?”

They went walking that day.

“Stick ‘em up! Give me all your money”, said the drunken mugger with a gun.

“I’ll stop him daddy!”

“What the…”

BOOM!

Crap

2005-11-21T03:27:00.000-08:00

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 speechless. She, on the other hand, never talked to me. A friendly greeting now and then, but nothing more.

So when it actually happened, I was shocked beyond anything words can express. “Shiva?” Priya called out as she tapped on my shoulder. “Yes, Priya”, I replied trying to find my voice as it tried to vanish in the wake of this unexpected event. “Well, I want to ask you something…” I had grown used to people asking me assignments and tutorials and so, slightly dejected that she was going to as well, I replied “Sure, which one?” “What do you mean??” She sounded nonplussed and slightly angry. “Oh, I thought you wanted an assignment solution…” “No. I want to tell you something Shiva and I only ask you to hear me out. “, she said defiantly. “I love you Shiva. I have since a long time. I have never been able to tell you this, but I have. I just came to tell you this. I don’t want your approval or your rejection. Consider this just a piece of information.” “But Priya, I,…” “No, don’t Shiva. Don’t. Please.” She started weeping every so softly. “But Priya, I love you too. I always have!” I almost shouted out with a smile that could rival that of the Cheshire cat. She looked up, with her eyes opened ever so wide, “I knew it. I did. I just knew it”. Then we embraced each other for what felt like an eternity.

“Hello Kumar, guess what? Priya still loves me! Woohoo!”

“First of all, why haven’t you called in three months???”

“Sorry, Sorry, listen we just had lunch today. She told me again that she loves me… She talks too much this girl…”

“Oh…umm, hey Shiva good news… I found a girl too...her name is...is...umm...Maya….”

“Wow, this is wonderful news!”

“Yes, it is wonderful. She is from ...Goa... Panaji I think. She lives in a huge house with a swimming pool, five cars …”

“Hmm, rich girl…”

“She is so beautiful and loquacious. Just like your Priya. Maya is so much fun to talk to, we talk about everything. We even talked about our childrens’ names, would you believe it? She said Rakesh but I insist on Shiva.”

“Awesome… when did you meet her?”

“Maya? Umm, around three months back...”

“Hey around the same time Priya and I got together!”

“Well, yeah…”

“We are both so lucky. I am feeling so happy. For the both of us”

“Yes, yes, for the both of us.”

“Aren’t you happy that we told our parents about us, Shiva? I told you they’ll understand.” “Well, I’m ecstatic. And relieved”, I replied. We looked at each other and I was able to picture us ten years from now, with a couple of children…

“Shiva, do you know what happened to Kumar?”, Priya interrupted me with a pensive look. “No, it’s been atleast a couple of months since I last called home. Anyways I am sure anything important my mother will tell your mother …”, I said with a wry smile on my face, as we sat down on the bench overlooking the lake. “So what happened to him?” “Well, apparently he suddenly packed all his stuff and then ran away. They haven’t been able to find him until now.” “Oh my God, when did this happen?” “About a couple of weeks ago. It seems he hadn’t been acting, well, normal for atleast six months now. Talking to himself a lot. Well, that’s what the local grapevine had to say”, she replied, as she took out her water bottle and offered it to me. “No thanks.”, I said and I continued to muse aloud, “I sure didn’t see this coming… he sounded so happy when I last spoke to him. But then I haven’t talked to him in a long time now. I wonder what made him do that? I wonder what…I wonder what Maya is going through…”

“Who is Maya?” Priya asked, throwing her hair back with a jealous tone in her voice. “No one. No one at all.”

“Shiva? Shiva. Do you recognize my voice?”

“Kumar? Is that really you? Where are you calling from?”

“Yes, its me, Shiva. I am going to find Maya. You remember Maya don’t you?”

“Yes of course, I do.”

“Well, I think something happened to her. She hasn’t come in a long time now. You know Shiva, she used to come daily. We used to sit by the fireplace and discuss about everything. We even played chess. One time…”

“Wait, you mean Maya was coming daily from her home to see you?”

“Yes. Daily. From Goa. She used to stay on quite late. We used to go out to the beach, the movies, everywhere. Just the two of us. But not anymore. And you know what’s the funniest part?”

“What is it Kumar?”

“Well, all my friends back home thought she isn’t real. I mean, they thought I made her up. Isn’t that hilarious?”

“Umm, Yes… quite. So you’re telling me she used to come from Goa daily just to see you?”

“I suppose so. I don’t know if it was just to see me…”

“Oh…”

“Oh? I don’t like that 'Oh'…

(silence for nearly half a minute)

Shiva, I want to ask you a question for which I expect an honest response. I haven’t asked anyone else and I will completely believe what you say.”

“Sure Kumar, anything.”

“Shiva, do you think I could be…insane? I mean slightly mad? Just tell me a yes or a no.”

“Kumar , I can’t … I mean, really…”

“Please Shiva, yes or no? A straight terse answer.”

“No, Kumar, you aren’t mad.”

“Shiva, Karthik has to go to school early today. You’re dropping him right?”, asked Priya, as she went about with the preparation of breakfast.

“Yes, I am dear. Let me just finish reading the newspaper.”

A homeless guy was found dead on HG Road in Panaji, Goa. The cause of death has been ascertained to be consumption of poison. The police released the contents of a letter found on the man which read,

“My best friend,

I am sorry. I think I am indeed mad. Ever since I left home, I have been searching for Maya. There is no Maya. I think there never was. They say it is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all. Then why does it hurt so much?

Hope you and Priya are happy. Give my regards to your parents. I don’t have enough money to even post this to you. I hope you get to read this soon.

Thank you and sorry,

Kumar

PS: You should have told me I was mad.”

Can't fight the moonlight

2005-11-15T14:37:00.000-08:00

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 staying up to compensate for their procrastination. Apart from that very quiet indeed. Recently a friend asked me given a choice between quiet and loud, which one I would prefer. Instantaneously I went for quiet. Which is weird since I always thought I was a noise person. One who in fact finds it hard to eat, study and even sleep without some sort of sound in the background. My parents often repeat the tale of how they used to force me to sleep when I was quite young. Apparently they recorded an onomatopoeic “Tuk Tuk” sound on a cassette and played that over and over again till I went to sleep. Talk about an idiosyncrasy.

Anyways, about the movie I had just seen. Very entertaining but somehow the ending left me…umm… worried. Sad. This is going to be a spoiler for those who haven’t seen the movie, but the fact is I wasn’t that sad that the heroine died. That was rather expected. But that the two boys, such thick friends, were shown to drift away so easily. True, I might just be showing early signs of havingToLeaveHostelSoonitis. But this was one of those feelings which gave me the goosebumps…

Walking across the mess top brought back memories of last year. Last semester to be precise. And I paused to glance at the adjoining 3^rd wing. Then, a swift turn of the neck to look at the somewhat opposite 6^th wing. I imagined Sai and Pondy running around the 3^rd wing yelling something about what Balls had done and Lala’s unmistakable voice shouting at one of his wingmates after one of their diurnal quarrels, with a Pink Floyd song faintly playing in the background. I’m sure that anyone who has ever lived in a hostel will agree atleast partially to the statement that somehow we consider our seniors much cooler and better than us. And that they consider their seniors in the same way. And hopefully our juniors find us similarly. It’s a sort of inexplicable feeling probably arising from ignorance and things we just assume. Or maybe just because they are in fact cooler and better than us. Old football and quake memories flooded back. Ah, those days.

And to think that all this can be forgotten, nay, eclipsed by things to come. People who have read the entire Lord of the Rings and/or those who have unfortunately been my company for enough time now know of the impressive effect Tolkein pulls off in the very last chapter of his three story saga. In that one chapter, he races ahead by a whole generation of individuals skipping along with much velocity about the future of the original characters in a style which almost makes us forget the actual protagonists of the story. For so long we had read all their exploits and yet so quickly we forget their very existence. Or atleast I did. And I applaud the author for that, whether it was done consciously or otherwise.

So cold. So very cold. The morning air is quite nippy today. Oh how I yearn for eternal weather such as this. The icy, almost metallic, touch of the breeze definitely clears one’s mind. I take in a huge whiff of this natural intoxicant. Heavenly…

I finally feel the initial symptoms of that most enjoyable act so tersely termed sleep. That state of semi-suspended near-death abeyance which offers rest to the physical body while simultaneously providing proverbial food for thought through the delusional delights of dreams.

“Stop!” cry the grey cells. “That’s enough thinking for the day.” And worst of all, I have a morning class first up. Dejected, I decide to call it a night. But just before I leave, I take one more look at the moon and nod my head as if to say thank you.

That said, I finally sleep only much later...

Life moves on…

Spring, summer, fall, winter and spring again.

Let it grow, Let it grow!!!

2005-11-14T00:51:00.000-08:00

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 seat, he sat close to the window. "Papa, when will you be back?" - his four year old daughter Munni asked innocently. He stared into those soft brown eyes of the motherless kid. He held her frail palms in his, through the window. "Munni, Papa will get you a nice gudiya from the city..Say tata," his sister spoke to the kid, to avoid an emotional outburst. In a minute, the train pulled forward, and Munni's little fingers parted from between his. "I need to go..", he thought, "I have to, at least for Munni's sake.."

The humid summer breeze and the rattling train coaxed him into an uncomfortable state of drowsy consciousness. He dreamt that Munni ran away, the closer he ran to her, the farther she was, like a mirage. He woke up with a start and squinted at his watch."What is the time please?"A smallish woman, a meek voice as if she was scared that her existence would annoy someone. Her only noticeable feature was her rather large, expressive eyes."4.30"Something made him look at the woman again. He had stopped noticing women long back. Ever since Meenakshi passed away...

But this woman was different. She reminded him of someone he knew. In an instant he realized who and the painful memories came flooding back. She looked exactly like his childhood sweetheart Madhu. As teenage lovers in a conservative society, they had often met secretly and had declared undying love for each other.

Then someone had found out and all hell had broken loose. The elders in the village Panchayat had ostracized Madhu's family as she was from a lower caste. Unable to bear the humiliation, she had committed suicide by drowning. That was twelve years back...

Could it be? Could it really be him? He seems different, weary and downcast. Oh no will he recognise me? No, I am dead to the world. Still she cautiously wrapped her saree end around her head and across her face. Behind the cotton screen, her mind drifted to happier times, languid strolls in the corn fields, games at the riverbed, his gentle caress, whispered sweet nothings, stolen glances at the temple fair.

Tempted to take one last look, she consoled herself that he wouldn't notice.

Slowly she lifted her eyes only to find Rupak staring back at her.

She quickly glanced the other way.

No, this girl looks too close to be any other person. She is infact Madhu!! “Hey, Madhu!” he called.

She struggled hard not to respond to that call. And successfully managed it too.

Hey Madhu, you forgot me?” he inquired her and came closer.

The old lady sitting opposite to him was looking at this unapprovingly.

“No, you are mistaken, My name is not Madhu.. I am Supriya”, she lied.

Hey Ram! a young girl cannot travel safely in this country without being stalked!” the old lady muttered angrily.

The girl walked briskly away from him, trying to escape his glances, as though she was hiding something, not wanting to be discovered. He stood confused, she had said her name wasn’t Madhu, and should he run after her? Or should he let it pass, after all he still had a train to catch.

His heart told him it was Madhu, followed her, all thoughts about going to the city vanished; he was on delighted to have met Madhu after such a long time. He was filled with memories of their time together. He finally caught up with her. Looking into her eyes he said, ‘Why Madhu? Why this to me?'

"Please dont lie to me anymore"; sounding more like the Mani he used to be ten years back when he had first met her at the Village temple, rather than the arrogant side that seemed to rule his life now. "I know it is you, nobody else but you Madhu". Tears roll down her cheecks as she tries to remember why they ended up this way. Was it destiny or fate that they had to meet now?

As she speaks up, the train which for a while had be at a halt, slowly starts to move.

“I was asked by the Panchayat to leave the village. They said they’d manage by saying I’d drowned. Everyone was led into believing I was drowned. I went to the towns, so no one would recognise me. My family disowned me. I struggled to live. Anyway, it’s all made me too immune. Life being a struggle is passé to me! I’ve learnt it the hard, cold and sharp way.”

“But Madhu, you could have written to me…”

“It’s all over between us Mani. You are now Rupak. I am now Mita. We couldn’t possibly….”

Train no where in sight.

He was jolted into consciousness.

Somebody had yanked the chain.
Some talked of escape. Some, of someone jumping the train.
Others of how this someone had failed.

What?
Alarms rang in his head. Madhu!

Breathe! He commanded his senses.
She wouldn’t. Perhaps she went to the toilet, he reasoned.

He took out a checkered handkerchief from his breast pocket, delicately took off his glasses, and wiped his forehead.

Down, he saw the book lying on the floor.
He shook his head in disbelief.

He got off his seat, onto his haunches and looked for his pen.

He could not find his pen and neither could he find peace.

A reassuring yes is all he was looking for…..Alas! ‘twas still coming.

Then he turned his attention towards the book and what he read was not immensely satisfying. This made him think of what he had seen….how can this happen? Perhaps I am overreacting or maybe not…

He saw the old lady sleeping in peace and thoughts of Munni comforted him, only for a while though. All the chit chatter made no difference to him and hence he decided that he needed to do something.

He rushed towards the door and saw a crowd which made him fear the worst. Delightfully, the outlook of the gathering was not serious enough to make him feel jittery, but he still needed to find someone, he lit up a cigarette and started gazing at the moon

He paused for a moment. Closed his eyes and blew out a stream of smoke.

He had start smoking when Meenakshi had passed away. Anything to ease the pain he had thought. The melancholic tale of the lonely heart is one which repeats itself much too often. He still wondered how he made it through those days. Those terrible days that had sequestered him, from which no one thought he would ever recover. But he did.

“Papa…” He heard Munni’s voice in his head. That one word was perhaps the only reason he was still alive.

-----------------------------------------------------

Everything below the dashed line above should be copied and pasted with every accepted tag

This is a Story Tree and is best nurtured as follows:

1. A blogger can add only 90-100 words (not more or less) at a time
2. All previous snippets of 90-100 words need to be copied before the new set of 90-100 words are appended.
3. Each entire snippet should be linked to the respective author (and not just the first sentence or so)
4. Characters, scenes, etc. can be introduced by an author
5. Bizarre twists, sci-fi, fantasy sequences are best avoided.
6. A tag must be accepted within 7 days else the branch is a dead branch
7. After appending 90-100, the Story Tree can be passed on to at most 3 bloggers.
8. If more than 1 branch leads to a blogger, s/he is free to choose any one of them but cannot mix the snippets of the individual branches.
9. The Story Tree is best left to grow than concluded
10. Please attach the image of the Story Tree below with each accepted tag (the link address can be copied and used).

So, to choose the next three branch representatives (pardon the PJ). A lot of deep reflection, involved soul searching and tossing of 10 coins later, my list of three are:

*drum rolls*
*trumpets*

1) Dasan
2) Aruna
3) Amrit

Expect a lot of sexy action, feminist views and wierd twists.... not necessarily in that order...

You're it!

2005-11-08T09:53:00.000-08:00

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." Dave was still nervously looking around for her to come. "What about you?", asked Richard.

(2)"Music. Currently its Eric clapton's voice. Layla. I can never get enough of that song. Can't really explain it. However truth is I can't even fully remember the lyrics..."

"Dude, I was asking what you're doing here!", Richard laughed as he butted in. "Oh, I'm waiting", Dave replied. "For whom, God? ", Richard asked smiling. "No. I don't believe there's a God.", Dave replied. Richard mused,

(3)"I, for one, completely believe in God. However, I think the concept of God is too rigid. God need not a omnipresent all-powerful entity. He is definitely someone special capable of things humans can't. But God should not be feared."

"Oh, ok". Dave looked at the watch again. "Whats taking her so long?", he thought to himself. "Well, anyways, who is it you're waiting for then?", Richard persisted. "Umm, noone", Dave mumbled and in an attempt to change the conversaiton he added, "Did you see the match in which AC Milan lost to PSV?"

(4)"I love football as it is the king of games. And AC Milan are the king of Kings. So what if they lose a game or two? That still doesn't take away the fact that they are the best team in the world. What with Shevy, Maldini, Pirlo, Kaka, Nesta..."

"Well Well, chill." "Hey that's a good idea. I'm going to have an icecream there", Richard said as he pointed to a nearby stall. Richard continued, "I'm going to have me one with no nuts". "No nuts?".

(5)"Yes, I aboslutely hate nuts. All nuts except peanuts. Cashews, Almonds, Walnuts,..all crap. Please don't desecrate my lovely icecream with these Satanic elements."

"Well, ok then. Though I can't understand how that works", Dave said uninterested. Richard went on, "Hey have you read the new book titled Shantaram? A friend of mine said it was great!".

(6)"I hardly read books. I get sudden enthu for reading books for like a week or so when I voraciously consume half a dozen books of varying genres. However I must add that of all the authors, I find Somerset Maugham to be the best albeit I have read only two of his books."

"That's a pity that you don't read books. What about movies? Does monsieur have time to see movies atleast?", Richard quipped. "No, I don't have much time for that too. What about you?", Dave asked out of courtesy. Richard, happy to have elicited a question out of Dave, answered with much zest,

(7)" I am a movie freak. I have seen so many movies that I hardly even keep count these days. Classics, action, suspense, romance, everything! I love Tarantino and Kubrick mostly because they are different and they make you think. But then I love comedy and romance too. Romantic comedies! Meg Ryan totally rocks! And Elisha Cuthbert is the most beautiful person on Earth!"

"You're done?", asked Dave rather sarcastically. "Hehe, yes I am. Hey have you decided what you're going to do after college?". Dave replied his standard dialogue,

(8) " As of now I have no idea what I'm going to do. To pursue an MBA or to take up a job. I'm currently more inclined towards taking up a job, consultancy, but then for that to happen many parts have to fall in place. But I'm optimistic."

"Hmm, well I am going to app. Off to the States", said Richard as he motioned a plane lifting off with his hand.

(9) "Well, to each, his own. His/her. That's like the motto of my life"

"Yes yes, I agree. But out of curiosity are you averse to higher studies or to going abroad?", Richard asked as he finally got his butterscotch icecream. "Damn these idiots, I said no nuts. $%$^$#$^", he shouted as he started picking the nuts and throwing them away one by one. "I'm sorry, Dave, you were saying?"

(10) "Only to the first. I'm not very interested in higher studies. However I have no reason why I should not go abroad. From the places I have travelled to and seen, there are quite a few where I would love to live for some time. England for one and Singapore for another. But Switzerland is the most beautiful place I have ever seen."

"I see. AH, another cashew! Dammit!", cursed Richard. Finally enjoying the conversation, Dave attempted at the questioning, "So, Richard, what's the one thing you regret not having done?". "Not having done ever?". "Yes, ever. That is to say in your life so far.", Dave answered. "Hmmm, a thinker", Richard replied.

(11) "The first crush I ever had, I never told her I liked her. I actually have never told any girl I like her let alone have had a crush on her. Hmm, I wonder where she is now and what she is upto..."

"Oh, I think I know who it is... ", Dave smiled. "Ah phooey, its from a long time ago dude. So, I have a question for you. What is the one thing you are happy that you did?". "Well, that's easy...". Richard interruped him, "Non academic". "Oh...

(12) Well, thats too difficult to answer. There isn't one thing I am most happy about. However I am very happy about all the choices I have taken in my life so far. I am content, satisfied. I wouldn't be human if I said I didn't want more. But as things stand there is nothing drastic I would want changed."

"That's cool man. Hey, have you seen my new bike?". "Nay dude, I haven't". "C'mon let me show you...", They walked til they reached the road. Richard exuded pride as he pointed to a shining new bike, "This baby is really hot na?"

(13) "Well, personally I care jack shit for bikes. Something unnatural about them. I don't mind them, its not as if I dislike them. But the fact is I could never love them. Not the same way I love a car. A ferrari. That perfection of a four-wheeled machine. There was a ferrari in the movie 'The Scent of a Woman', starring the all-time greatest actor Al Pacino. Now, that is something I would say was Hot!!!"

"Oh, I see. Well, as you said, to each his own, right?". "Right. Das ist richtig." "You know German?", Richard asked.

(14) "I have a crazy appetite for langauges. I really want to learn as many as I can. I know English, Hindi, Tamil, German and a little bit of Telugu and a few words of French. But I want to learn more!

By the way, I didn't quite realise it until now, but its been quite a while since I last saw you. What have you been upto? Mugging??". Richard almost choked on his icecream, as he blurted out, "No, no, no, no. Infact it is just this addictive computer game laconicly named quake.

(15) Quake thrills me and excites me every time I play it. I suppose it is the same feeling any addict gets. The rocket jumps, the rail shots, the this, the that, etc man! Everything and everyone. Thats what has been keeping me busy nowadays. And I spurn the ignorant fools who speak ill of these games."

"Awesome. And I hear you're quite a decent player too." "Hey, thanks", Richard said. All this while, they had been walking down the road adjoining the beach. Richard was amazed by the number of people Dave knew or rather who knew Dave, who kept greeting him. "How is it ", Richard asked, "that so many people know you?".

(16) "Friends are one thing I am oh-so-happy to have. So many of them. Friends, or rather acquaintances, for I should be careful in using such a powerful word so easily. You must agree I'm quite the friendly guy. I like knowing more and more people. Chatting, mailing, orkutting, meeting people on blogspot or just plain old social interaction. I guess the cynics call it attention seeking. I suppose that's true too."

"Cool, cool. You should help me out with all these stuff. I'm not too good with people. By the way, you blog too?". "Yes I do, but I do it anonymously. Helps me to write with much more freedom", explained Dave. "Interesting thing you brought up, anonymous blogging. Just the other day, I heard these words '...some people blog just for the ego massaging comments they get in exchange for it they do the same for some other poor idiot...'.

(17) I really envy the idealists. Especially the ones who practise what they preach. To truly do what you feel is something I've longed to do. Heck, I don't even speak what I think these days. Moreover, I'm easily smitten and confused by the words of idealists which more often than not are filled with long esoteric although appropriate exemplary words. I love using such big words, but in my case they just sound contrived.

"Well well. Idealism in this world is as silly as George Bush running for presidency one more time and winning it." "Dude, Dave", Richard guffawed, "it happened once already, I suppose it can happen again quite as easily." "Huh, yeah whatever, I meant one more time...", Dave replied rather sheepishly knowing well that he had been caught red handed making a mistake.

(18) "I really wish that the countries of this world will be ruled by intelligent people, like say Dr Manmohan Singh, Prime Minister of India although how much power he really wields is debatable. I, for one, am not against dictatorships for it is blatantly clear throughout history that countries under dictatorships progress fastest.

I know there are black sheep in any family. So don't quote Mugabe or someoneelse.", Dave ended his rather political speech. "I couldn't care less for all that. Frankly I am more concerned about short term wishes.

(19) I can't wait to learn French and Japanese. But I have other wishes too. To go to Morocco, to bungee jump, to travel in a submarine and to attend a concert by Eric Clapton."

"Ah Mon Cher, those are truly wonderful wishes. I, for one, would love to do all of them too!". "Well, how nice of you to say that," Richard continued, "but remember this. I heard this but a few days back, but it seems to make so much sense.

(20) I am who I am and you are who you are. If I am who I am because you are who you are and you are who you are because I am who I am, then I am not who I am and you are not who you are. That is somewhat of one of the greatest universal truths.

One which is true irrespective of sex, religion, sect, place or time." "True true", Dave nodded in agreement. Then suddenly, disturbing the philosophical atmosphere, Dave almost shrieked as he remembered, "Oh damn, I had to meet her half an hour ago! What will she think if I go late!! I must bid adieu mon ami. Auf wiedersehen." "Hmmm, au revoir", Richard mumbled.

Just like a dream

2005-11-02T21:35:00.000-08:00

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 right words to say. She replied " Yes dear, I do. What would you do if I become obsolete as it were if indeed I do not actually exist?"

Obsolete. The first thing that that word brings to mind is the old computer in our house. Even last week, as I saw the computer huddled away in a corner in an upstairs room, I couldn't help but feel nostalgic. Ah, the memories. Those days which revolved around that piece of machinery which is ostensibly the solution to all of man's problems. Personally, I can never throw any of my old things away be it an old notebook which I used last semester or the old fountain pen I had used way back in the 6th standard. I feel attached to these pieces, however obsolete that might be. I can't even get rid of old clothes, dammit.

"You know what I'd do?", I replied, with a somewhat wry smile on my face. "If I were to wake up and find this all a dream, I would just cry. Cry my heart out. And more." She looked at me brandishing a smile that could melt the heart of Saddam Hussein. "Yeah right, as if. All you'd do is say 'huh' and carry on with your life. What would I be to you?", she asked rather rhethorically as she brushed her hair back. "Only the world.", I replied.

But truth be told, what can one do if he or she were to wake up one day and find their world changed forever by a irreversible act. Trivially a dream. Perhaps something worse, a death of a loved one. Can one just spend the rest of his life mourning it all? Of course not. One must realise that things change, people change. Sometimes its better to let go than to hold on to something which isn't yours to hold on to. Its better to let go and see if it comes back rather than holding on and see if it lets goes. It, he or she.

"Anyways", she sighed, "I suppose you could ask me the same question. And frankly I don't see myself giving any other answer. I think its the human condition. We know so much and yet sometimes we just don't want to accept it. We keep hoping that atleast for me, it would be different." I loved it when she talked philosophically. Philosophy ain't my cup of tea. I am more comfortable around line integrals, thank you. But then, sometimes even I can come with some gyan. "Hope ", I said, pausing as if for effect, " is the quintessential human delusion, simultaneously the source of our greatest strength and our greatest weakness". She laughed. " The Architect, Matrix Reloaded. And here I was expecting you to be serious and all." I grinned and replied "Well, I try."

"Its getting late and I have an early day tomorrow," she said looking at the clock. "Yes, me too. Tomorrow tomorrow, I love you tomorrow and I ...", I started singing. "Oh, shut up and go to sleep you braying donkey", she said laughing as she did. "Yes, ma'am, right away."

As I woke up to the same old sound emanating from my cell phone, I realised I was back in the same old small dingy hostel room of 248 Narmada. I put on my glasses and looked around, thinking for a moment and hearing a rather distant voice saying "huh". I turned towards my laptop and realised I had been watching the movie Lost In Translation. I turned away staring at the wall, lost in thought. Huh.

I really cant get you, mon ami!

2005-10-27T23:21:00.000-07:00

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 Counting of the Union Set problem in Theoretical Computer Science do not titillate or interest me at all. But hey, do not take me wrong, I like computer science and all that I've learnt. Its more that somehow the thought of continuing these studies seems oh-so-wrong.

My decision has other reasons too. I can never see myself sitting in a lab in some University as a Professor brooding over some ostensibly path-breaking research which will change the very way computer theorists think. So self-motivated I am not. In fact, living the rest of my life as a researcher frightens the heck out of me. It reminds me of a dingy dark room with no door. Maybe I am just biased. And I'm not even going into the money aspect. Well, after all this if I ever just to follow the herd and join the popular bandwagon, it just wouldn't be right. And hence my decision.

But then, why are SO many people actually doing it? Why are nearly half of the distinguished and inarguably intelligent batch of 2002 Computer Science, IIT Madras applying to various universities abroad? Am I missing something? Or are they?

Some of my close friends and classmates through all these years are desperate to make it to the US. And when I ask one of them why, he replies matter-of-factly that he can't see himself doing anything else. He can't see himself sitting in the 23rd floor of some multinational managing the affairs of his bumbling subordinates. Although the money would be good he adds. But then the pure joy of being at the forefront of technology ready to discover some unknown result overwhelms everything else. He thinks of a sparkling white room with a gazillion hi-tech computers with his intellectual fellow researchers as they discuss and argue about some research subject. He imagines himself presenting his astonishing work to the most brilliant men of his field, at which point he loses me as he begins to name the supposedly more famous of them.

It seems he likes the idea of doing research while I don't. And it seems I like the idea of doing a MBA while clearly he detests it.

And then I realise something that I have been assuming all along. I always thought that both of us should think like each other. Should be like each other. But the fact is that though our paths intersected for the brief period of 4 years, we were never meant to walk the whole road together. Mathematically put, this was merely a common node, one of many perhaps, in the gigantic universal graph. He with his research and me with my, umm, whatever would go on to do different things, go to different places and lead different lives. That's just the way it is.

And thus we come to a happy ending. Everyone is doing the right thing, atleast for now. How right each person is we probably can't say. But it is best to follow one's heart. To do as you desire and as you see fit. And as I always say, though I probably use this much too often but then its just too apt, "To each his own". Umm, his/her.

Whodunnit

2005-10-24T01:07:00.000-07:00

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: I, unbeknownst to all my friends and family, am a secret agent working for the counter terrorist unit of the Indian Army. My current operation involved stealing top secret documents involving the illegal activities of TIME institute which sends terrorists into Ahmedabad, Bangalore, Calcutta, etc. so that they learn management of their activites better... Obviously I was found out and their agents tracked me down and retrieved their stuff. Im sure the driver of the call taxi is somehow involved...

The romantic movie scenario: A beautiful nymphlike intellectual goddess of a girl fell in love with me. Somehow. And in an apparent bid to win over my love, she stole the paper. Somehow. And then she informs me she has found the paper and wants to return it to me. . Again, somehow. And the remaining part of the story involves the normal love-story in which we romance for something like 2-3 years, then decide to get married in some arbit "romantic" place, have some N children and live happily ever after. Somehow.

The evil genius movie scenario: Dr. Fumb Duck is carrying out an experiment for which one of the integral components is the paper mache of 5 mock CAT question papers answered by IITians whose name starts with a 'S' and whose nick ends in a 'T'. He sent his trusty evil sidekick, Igor to use a whatchumitecallit to steal the last such paper he desired, mine. Thus, he will use this to complete the Doom's day device which will transform all the people into IITians. The horror, the horror!

The formula movie scenario: A rowdy comes up and taunts me with the paper. By the way he also has kidnapped the heroine, I mean the lovely lady who I met the other day for like 5 seconds before love blossomed in our hearts. So with pseud graphics and unreal stunts, I beat the crap out of the rowdy and his associates and rescue the damsel and the paper. A duet ensues , the location being the snowy slopes of the Swiss Alps...

The IITian RG scenario: One of my IITian "brothers", trying to practise the art of RGing, steals the paper just to improve his skills. He later comes and tells me this and we have a involved discussion regarding tips to finetune one's RG skills. I obviously don't tell him anything correct. RG.

The detective movie scenario: Based on finger prints obtained outside and inside the mess, all the students of the hostel as well as the mess workers are identified as potential suspects. However a piece of lilac string and white hair near the mess proves to be an invaluable clue which the detectives feed into a machine which looks a mixie-grinder but is termed with a scientific name that can rival the biological name of a Kangaroo rat for unintelligibility. And sure enough it spits out the culprit. Apparently the cat ate the paper.

The wizard movie scenario: I am but a muggle, but one with secret untold powers. However, these powers are so immense that once released there is no way I can remain a mere human. The wizards realise that if I were to evaluate my mock CAT, I would realise how badly I had done and in the tantrum that would ensue, I would begin to comprehend my true powers and soon would be powerful enough to take over the world. So they send the once-famous but now-works-only-in-advertisements-and-in-birthday-parties Harry Potter, who with a wave of the hand says Excretus Papyrus or something like that, and the paper vanishes.

Thats about all the scenarios I could think of. What really happened and will happen I cannot say. But I just thought it was really strange for someone to flick a question paper. Strange and dumb. As Einstein said,

How strange is the lot of us mortals! Each of us is here for a brief sojourn; for what purpose he knows not, though he senses it. But without deeper reflection one knows from daily life that one exists for other people.

Doesnt make too much sense here. But still, Einstein said it. Nothing wrong in reading it.

Just because I don't care doesn't mean I don't understand.

2005-10-17T06:21:00.000-07:00

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 wake up today, when you're going to sleep, how you're you going to kick the football. whether you're going to kick the football, how much your rail accuracy is going to be, how many steps you are going to walk today, what is the amount of that thing-they-claim-as-food you're going to have to intake, how you're going to do the quiz today, whether you're going to see a Korean anime with no english subtitles, whether you're going to blog an amazing post which is going to be read by millions and millions of teeming fans all around the world. Umm, what was I saying.Ah yea, no control.

Fortunately, this is not true. And I'm not talking on the basis of mere intuition. For recently a mathematician (who else) found out that mathematics itself has no set patterns and that all the results one gets from the same are inherently random. Strange result. I would have dismissed it as nonsense had I not personally read the article in Time magazine. The article goes on to add that it was actually the discovery of the Omega constant(I think), which connects the impressive Godel's Incompleteness Theorem and the watershed Turing's Halting Problem, which actually brought about this conclusion. The article was also kind in informing me that the actual theory behind this finding is beyond the scope of a normal reader, which I found rather blunt albeit true.

Personally I am one who strongly believes that Mathematics is the answer to every problem. Not physics (yuck!). Not biology (don't get me started). Not chemistry(Nothing against this actually). Mathematics is the gateway to all sciences. It is the door and the key. I hold mathematicians in great regard, the ones who know what they are talking about at least. So, when the very foundations of life, ie Mathematics, has been shown to be random, it can be assumed that life itself is far from predictable. Which is very reassuring.

So all of you can finally be happy. Or sad. Whichever. Any random emotion actually. Do anything you wish to do and blame it on the mathematically proved randomness that you and I are bound to. Wait, random huh? Does this again mean that anything can happen anytime? Am I again no longer in control of what is going to happen?? Have I just jumped from the frying pan into the fire???

*Calms down*

So, as I was saying before the neurotic paranoid alter-ego of mine took control, do something random. Unique. Strange even. Like

235@$%#@$!GER$%ogejriwnkhdaf9f23';fmnvi4Gkg
dohgosdkhsghihsjfkljskdghhslgsgjskgjlsjfhwiorht320f20rufkn ]q ;l jlnslkdf2 h

Nobody could have predicted that I would type this. It was a random act of life. Well, unless they invent a time machine... but that's a whole new issue which I rather discuss another day.

Bye Bye Shaastra...

2005-10-09T12:00:00.000-07:00

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 but 4 but then there has to be some studness to this rather elaborate narration, so gen stretching time :P), I started to respect the hard work and dedication of the millions of teeming coordinators and their superior cores who occupy rather near-sinecure positions of responsibility... (you learn a new word everyday :D) Truth be told, I always considered Saarang, the ostensible Mother of all culfests (read evil) humunglously and better organised than Shaastra. Wait... I still consider that. But now, somewhat in a way that is more respectable to the latter. Just sleisha more. ;)

This year was different. Until now perhaps from the inherent disrespect for it all or from just lethargy or a combination of both, I have but attended one event at Shaastra. But this year, I sought to end this tradition with a fierceness in comparison of which King Arthur would be but a hypochondriac green frog which is afraid of flies. (!?!) In fact, I started well ahead of the actual Shaastra days. Starting with the popular Simulation Championship, I participated in like a trillion events of which I entered the finals in SimChamp, Math Modelling (Umm, second round...fundaes follows) , Programming contest, Swat the Bug and of course, Game Drome Quake. In the first two, unavoidable circumstances (read boredom of the problem, enthulessness, Google PPT and quake) made it unable for me to attend the actual events.

Fortunately I did attend the remaining others of which I was lucky to come third in the Prog Contest (yeah yeah yeah, finally :D) as well as come second in Swat the Bug (how did this happen :-/) . ~2K bucks :$. (Though Raj won ~4K) And Ow Ow Ow, unnecessary kicks to the posterior for the same ensued. As far as Quake finals go, I can't really say when they are going to take place. In any case second place atleast (actually first wonly, but then some nefarious characters are on the loose, so \etc\ won't go around making arbit statements...!..) .

Shaastra was quite enjoyable actually. For one, the events seemed to be stimulating and entertaining, the surroundings significantly more pleasing for the eye than under normal circumstances (heard: hey there are babes here da! someone tell them they are 3 months too early :P ), the prizes lo wonly and finally the airconditioning almost utopic.

I suppose the best part of Shaastra was indeed gamedrome. Whatever some people may say about the cuppax comps/mouse(s)/sound/etc (lo, another one) , the whole atmosphere was awesome. When you play 4 on 4 ctf with all the 8 players sitting at shoulder's length from each other, shouting expletives (and in the case of some, the word "expletive" ;nothing more :P), the game is truly electric. Even though the not-so-optimal systems meant reduced performance by most of the players, it was indeed really good. Awesome.

The above para is dedicated to all quake players, past and present. Basically sentiputs. :O

And thus, Shaastra ended. A fun time. A rewarding time. Both monetarialy and for memories.

Ya baby.

Of two vowels, two consonants and two fools

2005-10-03T11:16:00.000-07:00

One of the earliest definitions I remember of love was " It is something with two vowels, two consonants and two fools". I know of one. Me.

Lately I have been thinking of her a lot. Her face, her eyes, her cute smile. The way her hair felt. Her voice. The way she pronounced my name. The way she had to be the person to say the last word. The way she sometimes wrote such predicatable responses to your sms which strangely warmed your heart. Her enviable knowledge of the Zodiac signs. Her ability to remember everyone's birthdays. The way she loved animals but at the same time was afraid of cats and dogs. Her love of Priety Zinta and dislike of Salman Khan. The way she said she absolutely loved every present I ever gave her. The way sometimes she lied so that I felt happy. The way she said Hello. The way she said Good Bye. Her. She. I just lay on my bed thinking. Wishing and hoping that what was could be what is. Hours together with no care for time. I just lay on my bed, thinking...

The first time we met was in a rather inconspicuous cafe near her house. It isnt that much of a cafe as a place where you get tea and coffee, but it sounds much more classly when termed a cafe. It had been raining and I had been caught rather unaware and headed for the nearest shelter, the cafe. A few minutes later as I was sipping this wonderful cup of steaming tea, in she walked. She was looking rather confused, confused not because of the rain like I for she had had an umbrella. Rather she was confused at the unusual crowd that had gathered at this place. In fact, all the tables were occupied and she had no option but to stand and drink her cup of hot Cappachino. Out of pity and more out of a sudden sense of uncharacteristic chivalry, I offered my seat. I suppose that was the first time I realised what eye contact was. Yes, we have seen it in a million movies and yes it is the essential ingredient in any insipid love story which we rubbish away as phooey. Perhaps from ignorance. But it is true. I know. Our eyes gazed into each others endlessly as if we were exploring each other's minds telepathically. It was atleast 5 minutes before I suddenly slipped out of the trance, glanced around sheepishly and cleared my throat a couple of times. The spell broke for her too as she instantly looked away, then at the floor and then at her cup of coffee. It had become cold.

Many months have passed from that first day. Many wonderful days. Days at the beach, at the cinema. Many a lunch and even a few dinners. Sometimes in conversations, all of the participants become silent at once. A kind of uncomforable feeling envelops everyone. But when we were quiet it wasnt like that. Wasnt even close. It was as if we were talking but our mouths not moving. I know it sounds contrived and like a cheesy corny skin flick from Bollywood. But alas it was true. Those days were truly unforgettable.

But now things have changed. Geographically, mentally and physically. Perhaps I am not the guy I once was, wooing and charming her at every chance I got. Perhaps I just lost interest in her. In the whole razzmatazz. Long drawn conversations drizzled into short courtesy calls which slowly mellowed into single word emails and now, it is all but a memory. But then " Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose". Ironically that quote is from a television series we both shared a passion for - The Wonder Years.

Ah Love.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Very Important Note:
Some of the incidents above bear references to actual incidents/feelings/emotions of the writer.
Some of the remaining incidents bear references to those of two of his close friends.
The remaining are fictional.

Very Very Important Note:
The first sentence in the Note above is not true. Ergo, only the last two are true. The writer wrote the first line just to psyche you (:D). However he is not averse to it becoming true. Feel free to fix him up with anyone you feel fit.

AAargh

2005-09-23T14:42:00.000-07:00

No update in 10 days! Actually even more than that. The fans and followers of Helmet wait feverishly for their idol to pen yet another of his posts. They yearn for his post, be it on the wise teachings of Confucius, the triviality of Fermat's little theorem or just his eventful dynamic colourful daily schedule. Some of them are even staging a protest in the far away land of Timbuktoo requesting the talenter blogger to write again. Readers go on indefinite fasts and beautifical nymphlike aficianidos run nude through the streets of London ot tell the world of this crisis as they can no longer let the blog remain unrefreshed...

*Poof*

Dream gone.

I really don't have any reason for not writing a post. The fact that I have absolutely confidently completely zero, zilch, nada, zuck work is somewhat like a highly understated understatement. Like calling computer science courses in the 4th year, uninspiring, boring, tedious and soporific. Like calling a monkey an irritating, irksome, painful and ugly creature. Like calling Bush a stupid idiotic ignorant war-mongering redneck megalomaniac monkey.

I could say I forgot. Just completely slipped my mind. Sometimes I would think of something to write, click on FireFox and then the thought would vanish as fast as it materialised. But then that was just once or twice. Anyways an attempt to come up with some other excuses...

Well, there was this one day when 4 of us invented a new game. Impressive you might say. Well, I sort of agree. Its one of those nonsense games which people play except we decided to add a certain intellectual twist. A cerebral twist of lime to the crazy concoction. The original game (as played for the very first time by Neo, EP and yours truly) involved the following rules
Rule Number 1) What you say should not be related to what the previous person said and must be as random but quick as possible.
Rule Number 2) There are no other rules.

At this point, it would be sensible to add, in case there a few of you scratching your head and wondering whether I belong in Kilpak Medical Hospital, that this game was invented during a conversation late-night and can be attributed to sleeplessness. Though I would rather impute it to the highly evolved thinking processes of the founder members.

So as I was saying, the recondite twist. Now we added an extra rule, just to spice things up. Basically we found the initial version far too easy, for it fitted perfectly into our way of thinking (ie meaningless, inane and arbitrary).
Rule Number 1.x) What you say should be related to what the next person said in the last round and the connection must be as abstruse as possible.

Thus was born the game of PSP (Don't ask why the name. It was invented when we were playing the game, so I guess you realise the rationality of its existence).

Truth be told, it is rather a game to be played when you are full of enthu because it needs a lot of brain activity. We have only played it once and have recorded the complete game on paper. Interested people contact I_really_need_a_life@right_now.com

This week also saw in its wake a rather interesting debate of sorts about the influence of cultural events like Saarang. There have been some recent rumours that the Dean of Students, who has lost his marbles, wanted to scrap the fiesta for he termed it the Mother of All Evils. This sacrilegious blasphemy is not to be, thankfully, and though the debate ended somewhat undecided, somehow I feel its just the case of the battle won and the war just beginning. Fortunately, being a final year student, one need not worry about that which does not concern him and anything beyond May 2006 does not concern him.

Talking about fourth year students, I never actually realised how utterly jobless and mothballed one is in fourth year til this week. The last three days have been somewhat of an eyeopener though ironically I have hardly opened my eyes during the "working hours" of college. Which is to say, Helmet has peacefully packed classes for three days now and if he persists and somehow finds some hidden talent, then he can prove to be a cause of concern for the current "longest stretch of days bunked" Narmadite, Goda. Two more working days, dude... will he or won't he?

Oh Mon Dieu, I almost forgot. I have to add a line about the net in the insti.... apparently some genius realised that the bandwidth being diverted to the departments is ridiculously unnecessary compared to their needs viz-a-viz the same to the hostel sector. And apparently the same genius or geniuses (or genii) decided to finally allocate more to the latter which has indeed resulted in a unbelievably terrific connection speed. This page actually loads immediately when you click on the link. And hence to that genius or geniuses or genii

本当にありがとう。神は賛美する。
(Thank you very much. God bless)

Wait, what was this post about? I forget. AArgh.

Yada Yada Yada Blah Blah Blah

2005-09-12T03:20:00.000-07:00

Me, CC and Prof

Continuing from my last post, this is the conversation which ensued when I actually met the prof. Neither me nor CC had too much fundaes on the portions we were supposed to cover in the self study course but assuming the prof would have forgotten what he gave to us last semester we decided to say we finished 2-3 chapters.

Me: We have done first 2 chapters and are doing the third
CC : ...ya...
Prof: So you have done that proof that n/2 something of a Byzantine something results in failure using that two triangle proof?
CC: *silence* (with a face that resembled the :O)
Me: hmm...yes
CC: NO!
Me: ok...No

Tam Gumbal
For some time now the tam gumbal conversations are taking a turn for the worse... A short form for every possible known word/words/sentence... The following imaginary sitution between a tam gumbal guy and an ignoramous will justify my claims...

Tam Gumbal Guy: Hi da
Ignoramous: Hey... how are you?
TGG: k u
Ig: Hmm... fine. Can't you type proper english?
TGG: nt
Ig: nt? Can you explain?
TGG: nT NT
Ig: What does that mean? Non Tam?
TGG: kt
Ig: kt? Was that a typo? And what is nt?
TGG: loosu KT wonly
TGG: KT
TGG: KT
TGG: KT
Ig: Oh you meant KT... what does that mean? I don't understand...
TGG: stfu
TGG: SMM for you
Ig: ??? SMM? Samosa Mixed with Maida?
TGG: wtf
TGG: bwipc
Ig: I give up

:)) People interested in learning the TG lingo tell me. Ill put some fundaes.

Random quotes :

Hole : Machan I have read so much about delays that there is a delay in my brain now !?!

Hole : F*cking Elec junta... finding capaticance and resistance between every two places on this earth... (He is Elec)

L2 (to 2nd year Elec bp1, whom he has met for the first or second time) : I am going to copy tomorrow's exam from you. Ok?
Elec bp1 : Noooooooooooooooooooooooo! (really dramatic shrill)

D slot prof ( Short Story Classics) : Why do you think the author has included this line in the story?
OS ( aka Arijit) : No reason. It doesn't make any sense.

And finally the best:
X : I'd like to be under the sea, in an octapuss' garden in the shade...

Identify X. (btw for the first time in his IITian life, Helmet makes it to a quiz finals :D )

Where were you when we were getting high?

2005-08-30T13:44:00.000-07:00

No there is nothing in this post about anyone getting high.It is just that it is rather high time that Monsieur Helmet updated his blog. There have some interesting developments in the life of this protogonist, some of them involving this very blog. But for reasons perhaps beyond the intellectual capacity of normal mortals and/or other personal reasons these remain mere references, nothing more.

Alas, this blogger has also been stricken with an acute case of blogblockitis and the cure for the same is usually but a banally morbid post about the everyday rituals encompassing trivialities like sleeping, eating and brushing one's teeth. But nay, I decided to take the path less travelled and rather write about something else. Not about quake (/etc/passwd rocks :D /etc rulz :D ), not about juggling (you have learnt well young dasan), not about poker (no comments).

One who is jobless enough to be frequenting my blog knows well of my rather trustworthy vehicle. My blue flatron bicycle. One of only three in the insti and perhaps the city, for the production was stopped the very next year to the year of introduction which coincided with my entrance to these hallowed portals. Trustworthy vehicle for two main reasons. It serves me well when in working condition but also goes on a metaphorical sick leave for periods of two weeks during which I get good exercise by walking. About this much has been already painstakingly penned in a previous post.

The incident in question happened only today, or rather tonight. From the above paragraph it is quite clear that my cycle is currently on leave, for a punctured tyre this time. Since a month has gone by since the semester began, CC and I (a classmate aka Ranjit) decided it was time to meet our professor for a self study course in order to discuss the "syllabus" we were to cover and other realted academic formalities. Truth be told, I have been trying to meet him for some time now and since he is a busy man, havent been able to. (trying to meet him => once thought about it). So CC tells me , lets meet him today da at 9pm and I reply Ok. (I reiterate this guy is a busy prof and we can but meet him ~ late nights or early mornings and if youre lucky enough to strike a royal flush in your first set of cards, even during class hours)

The stretch between the hostel and the Department is a, well, shady one, especially at night. Actually the path from just before the Chemistry department to BSB is. Today as I walked this particularly well laid road, quite a oxymoron taking into account that IIt Madras is in Chennai, there was this smell of wetness in the air. Not the smell of rain, that is far too intoxicating. Also, the roads were lonely and apart from the lone motorbike zipping past you at Mach-3 and few cyclists who can be heard muttering to themselves, cursing the professor who called them wherever at this wierd time, it is quite eerie. And the yellow sodium lamps make it movielike. Add to that grotesquely shaped trees on either side canopying the path rather beautifully. The end result? A slightly spooked appreciater of nature...

As the road turned to the right, the buildings of ESB and LHC rose on both sides reminding me of a scene from LOTR-1. The one with two huge statues on either side of a river as the boat carrying the fellowship of the ring passes them in a exquisitely well taken scene. Actually, these buildings, all buildings in IIT for that matter somehow remind me of Ayn Rand and Howard Roark. I dont know why, but they do. Anyways, this particular stretch of road which I had traversed so many times before somehow looked different. I had never noticed the trees on either side; on one side coconut trees (or was it palm) and the other some coniferous trees (I could be wrong, don't like biology all that much and I'm sure that the feelings mutual). But I then realised that someone had gone through the trouble of decorating this place purposely placing similar trees on the same side perhaps trying to say something... Bah, I read too many arbit books like Da Vinci Code and Codex...

The next part was a fork in the road, one leading to the back entrance of CRC and the other, to the front. Taking the latter, I had left the dimly lit part of my short walk. With but moonlight as my companion, I had entered back into a sodium yellow lighted road and I rushed through this part because it was at this very place a previous night I had seen a huge black scorpion. Being not particularly found of these creatures I vividly remembered thinking to myself, whichever idiot is going to walk these roads at this time in the night is going to get a rude shock... talk about ironic words...

As I neared BSB, I had but to traverse a mud path consisting of roots of trees and myriad stones and rocks. And on arriving at the front of BSB, I was greeted by CC as we proceeded to go to the professor's lab.

Needless to say, he wasn't there.

How many special people change
How many lives are living strange
Where were you when we were getting high?
Slowly walking down the hall
Faster than a cannon ball
Where were you while we were getting high?

Some day you will find me
Caught beneath the landslide
In a champagne supernova in the sky
Some day you will find me
Caught beneath the landslide
In a champagne supernova
A champagne supernova in the sky

PS: Forgive me for the title and the last few words. Something for me to look back on many years later and understand... :P.

Anger Management

2005-08-17T01:47:00.000-07:00

Just the other day I was quite taken aback by the sudden outburst from one of my friends, EP, when he retaliated rather forcefully to a friendly kick to the posterior by yours truly. It was surprising to see someone behaving so normally to suddenly snap albeit for a fleeting moment and do something which is not characteristic of their nature.

Lately I have been fighting with people a lot. Sometimes over trivial matters. Sometimes over nontrivial matters. And its frightening 'cause I seem to just lose it for a moment. Anger overwhelming you leads to a feeling of helplessness which is quite difficult to explain because although there probably is a reason which pissed you off, heart of hearts no one wants to be a person with a short fuse. Speak when you are angry and you will make the best speech you will ever regret. I read that somewhere...

"...Anger leads to hate; hate leads to suffering..." So well said by Yoda. The problem with anger that for that particular moment it probably seems justified but as it lingers on until consensus is reestablished, it does lead to much pain. But alas, our ego is too dominating to let our hearts rule our body. What could have been solved by some peaceful talking, permeates for days, weeks and, my favourite, months. Agony but Mr Ego says "No idiot, you can never give in. You need not be the bigger man". And alas I yield to this invisible force.

Sometime after the 2nd semester I had a fallout with one of my friends and the result was a extended cold shoulder period of four months. And I was relieved when it ended although rather undramatically. (I literally bumped into him one day as I was going to class and bada bing bada boo... all back to normal ). Currently there is one such uncomfortable situation with a hostelmate which began sometime during the end of last year with a rather sour incident.Then recently I had an awkward period during which I wasnt on talking terms with a close friend which strangely went unnoticed by my other friends. I think. AH yes, there is one more such nontalking situation which but developed yesterday...

What is the best way to end such self-enforced silences? I really don't know. Time heals all wounds? Sounds too contrived. But thats what I always do. Avoid talking until I eventually forget what started it all. Sometimes quake helps too... (:D)

Even after realising that most of the time, the anger leads to unwarrented consequences, it is hard to say it is wrong to be angry. After all, there have been enough movies and articles and whatnot to say that pent up anger is way worse. I guess it is. The making of psychoes and serial killers. And some entertaining movies...

So what is the best cure for anger? Nothing I guess. I think its like the common cold of emotions with no known cures but many a nostrum ... (count to 10...bah humbug). Music is the closest. The soother of the savage beast. So, if there is no cure, what do you do? Well, I guess I could very easily say " Think before you act. Control yourself. Blah Blah Yada Yada". But then it would be the case of the preacher not practising.

Well, a rather philosophical psychoanalytical acroamatic cogitative approach ... a post unbecoming of the bland insipid ravings of the diurnal activites of the one called Helmet...

I shall end on a serene note, based on karmic reflection

Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one getting burned.

If this was an ideal world, I would follow what I just said above. Sadly, it isnt one. Its an egocentric world. Alas.

Untitled

2005-08-08T14:14:00.000-07:00

Things have been quite busy as the transformation from the TV-watching, icecream gorging, sudoko-crossie-sudoko solving me to the busy, something-to-do-every-minute, footer-playing quake-addicted Helmet got underway during the previous week which rather uncoincedentally saw the reopening (finally) of college after nearly 3 months.

I should say I have had a fabulous vacation and seeing that it could perhaps be the last holidays period of such an extended nature, it was something I can always look back to. Right from the beginning as we toiled over unfinished assignments left over as a result of a suspicious mixture of ignorance, don't-care-attitude and lethargy through the oft-repeated yet rarely understated Trilogy internship upto the last few weeks of mellowing at home.Fab.

And as college began on the unceremonial bunking of almost all classes by ironically the professors (I guess we must give them a chance for once the semester is in full flow, we all know who will be doing the lion's share of that although I have heard a lot about our D slot teacher...), the first three days, Helmet spent readjusting to the bustling lifestyle that he so adored. Adores. Meanwhile, the newly realised freedom of choosing free electives has caused him to pinball around various classes though he seems to have finally settled with a 2nd year course much to his chagrin not beacuse he doesnt like the subject (its math, so understandable) but more for fear of ineptitude he has incurred upon himself from the three mind-numbing years at IIT which could surface for all to see in such an attempt. He only hopes some of his grey matter will still work after such a long hibernation.

Atleast for the first few days, there was something lacking. Initially I thought it was the fact that I didn't have my room and then I realised it was the fact that all the junta weren't back yet. So now that all of the gang is back, a feeling of completeness which was missing for the first couple of days seems to be permeating the whole of 4th wing, which for the ignoramouses, now shelters yours truly as well. As of now my room is so clean that initially I was in such a state of stupor it was almost like a story of love at first glance. Except this wasn't the first glance. And it wasn't as much love as it was relief. Ok a small amount of love as well...

3 O' clock. Im glad to be able to see this time with AM suffixed after such a long time. Usually 3 O'clock implies Will & Grace, the 3 pm I mean, which I will sorely miss but then with all that is happening I can hardly complain. I probably can even see that show if I really want to but then a sudden sense of enthulessness envelops. I guess I should attribute that to the soprific classes. I am sure they have become more boring than last year. Which is truly remarkable because last year was recorded in the Genius's Book of Records (and no, the first word wasn't a typo; I am referring to my book of records...humble me humble you ;) ).

And finally for the Philistines, the title is actually the title of a song by Simple Plan which was on infinite loop sometime last week. Thankfully I am over the song (I think though sometimes you can never say when you're over something) and thanks to other songs, I seem to be slowly alienating myself from that song. Though there are other contenders for infinite loop lurking around in my song list...By the way, the video of the above mentioned song is awesome as well. I mean the whole story of the song, the direction...everything. It seems to so dutifully and beautifully capture the whole situation and the personal angst of the guy in the video. I spent some time reflecting what exactly I would do in such a crisis. (Which can't possibly happen now that I am a Saint).And special mention to the totally beautiful babe of the song ..:P.

Tard mais le plus tard

2005-07-29T18:05:00.000-07:00

First of all, I am rather alarmed at this extended period of absence I have taken since my last post. For I never regarded myself as impuctual. Lazy, yes. Insolent, well sometimes. But always punctual. Ummm... almost always...

So 'cause college officially resumes only in the first week of August, I have been spending a lot of time at home for two weeks now and it goes without saying that it has been rather uneventful. But this has hardly deterred one as loyal to blogging as yours truly from posting before, albeit completely insipid at times. And strangely there have been certain things that have been on my mind which I thought worth mentioning perhaps not as much to make an interesting read but to settle some issues...

First off, let me take you back to about three wednesdays ago , I think. T'was the night of the graduation dinner for Ankush (a fellow Trilogy intern) and I. The conversation somehow came to involve soap and Simple Object Appln Protocol, probably an obligatory attempt at a computer related joke by mois , hardly successful cause it evoked a laughter only from Ankush, when one of the four lovely ladies who had accompanied us to dinner, made a comment, perhaps even a passing comment, that the author of a certain article in Bangalore Times supplement regarding "Geeks", certainly had good specimans to prove his essay right. Which didnt offend me much that moment but somehow by the end of the dinner I was quite distressed. And the funny thing was I didnt exactly know why.

Truth be told, Im not a complete geek. And I know that. But Im a sort of guy who knows that firefox isnt just a mythical flying bird, and that O(n) algorithm for sorting is like , as the English say in their orotund accent, a flying pig (the English were called on to try to induce a rather pompous tone to that phrase;I hope this does not cause much offense to anyone except those who attempt fake British accents), and that vim is just not a soap bar (and no this soap and that soap have no connection and also for those until now ignorant to the ways of the world, there is also a soap called vim, for washing vessels, I think), and also I wrote a program to solve the sodoku (which is hardly anything to write home about) though I did try using software engg and the bit funda to try to optimise it , and (*phew*), the last and, also know just about enough sed to realise that something as trivial as
duck in
s/d/f/
s/i/o/
s/n/ff/
is not flattering.
But I reiterate, Im not a complete geek.

Somewhere beneath all this denial, I do accept I am part geek. The part thats fun. Thankfully part can be anything from a 0.001 to 99.999.

So where was all the aniguish at the comment made coming from? Well, serious reflection and the kitchen sink later, I realised its from the disgust of being stereotyped. For ever since I can remember I have never wanted to be a typical this or a pakka that. I wanted me to be me. An unique individual. One whose mould was made for him and broken, however unceremoniously and for fear of legal backlash, by the very Hands that made it. Its just another idiosyncrasy of mine I think. Or rather just another unique idiosyncrasy...

Well, at this point of time I would like to stereotype a set of people who I fondly refer to as HRFemales (expansions and whitespaces conveniently forgotten). So the typical characteristics of one belonging to this rather elite, or is it elitist, group of human beings include
1) You should belong to the fairer sex and I ain't talking about skin colour though it helps with fair skin too
2) You should qualify as hot for an average of 80% of any randomly selected group of company employees (male/female)
3.1) Your sense of fashion must be atleast upto date with the latest Cosmo or some such glam mag
3.2) Any measure of your sense of geography and history and anything unrelated to above can be positive and at times even nonnegative (for example Chennai could be in Kerala and Cochin in Andhra for all you care)
4) You should qualify as hot for an average of 80% of any randomly selected group of company employees (male/female) (repeated for emphasis)
5) You should not mind having to eat dinners almost daily on company money. In fact, free food, drinks and other perks are necessarily to be enjoyed
6) Other qualities will be decided depending on the latest fashion trend

Ah, venting one's angst so gracefully and majestically lifts such a great load off one's back... And yes, sliesha revenge sweet fundaes also. Though I feel some regret for writing the above. Ah it hurts to be so nice...(refers to the lines that follow) I am sorry if any of the above caused any offense to anyone. It was merely written in jest and not meant to be hurtful. All this said, I refuse to delete it.

Well, that was pretty much the only thing on my mind. Though another worrying thing as far as I am concerned is the rather unnatural appetite my bored self has been suffering for fiction books the past week when I consumed 4 books in 5 days and decided it was too unhealthy to continue. Maybe there's some deep rooted psychological problems I suffer from.

Maybe some diagnosis can be procured based on this conversation:

Helmet : Lets read a book and practice footer and be all Saintly about everything
San : No da lets see some Movie...Hitch?
10.195.#.#: lets search the LAN da...for the movie or some songs or footer video or...
\etc\passwd : Quake da machan
QuakeIsRuiningUsAll: Hmm...maybe
u_wanna_try_me: no da lets chat
helmet_iitm: ya agreed
Sanjeev: dei pack da...lets blog

Needless to say Sanjeev prevailed in this conversation. Though I must say its getting a bit crowded up there...

PS: Heres to my first nightout of this sem though techinically it isnt the sem yet ;)

PSS: Sorry for the plagiarised title, but I could argue I atleast tried reinventing it ...

2005-07-12T07:10:00.000-07:00

After the trek...

2005-07-12T07:05:00.000-07:00

All the interns

We'll always have Bangalore

2005-07-12T07:02:00.000-07:00

It sure has been amazing. Awesome. Fantastic. Fantabulous. Magnificent. MegaMagnificent. I should stop with the adjectives now for I will run short of them coz of my rather stunted vocabulary though I have hardly described aptly the great life experience this wonderful wonderous internship has been.

And yes, it was nice too.

So after all of 9 marvellous weeks, I must now bid adieu to this internship. And so, how better to say sayonara but with a post full of arigatos. That for the japaneselly handicapped few of you out there, is a Thank You post.

So, here goes... hope I dont miss anyone and/or anything...

The best place when one wants to start on a nostalgic journey is the place one calls home albeit cliched. Home or rather the guesthouse. Probably this was one of the highlights of the trip here. The huge rooms, comfortable beds and the miracle of cable Tv , which for one as starved for television as CAS-constrained yours truly, was the icing on the cake.

Strangely, I sometimes feel that this whole thing has whizzed past. Whizzed or Whooshed or some similar onomatopoeic word. Seems like just yesterday that I entered that house, suitcase in hand and a bag around the back, and I chanced upon my fellow interns who I am sure were as quick to judge me as I were them. But it is the same guesthouse that makes me think that I have been here forever. In fact, the whole of Bangalore looks so familiar now, in but 2 months. And it is just such an awesome city to live in. The weather, the people, the places, the this and the that. Just awesome.Familiarity breeds contempt? Bah, every generalisation has its exceptions and this would be my contribution to the latter...
So anyways, thanks good ol' guesthouse on #7,something-something-seomthing 4th sector HSR Layout, Bangalore (It is not for secrecy or security that I went something-something-something but because of ignorance). Thanks for housing me so well.

I guess now would be a good time to switch over to the next on my to-thank list. My fellow interns.

I could never have envisaged that such a varied group of guys could get along so well. Varied , maybe, but heart of hearts , we were all the same. Well, almost all of us. (I refuse to name anyone). I guess there needs to be some diversity to spice things up...

There have been so many experiences we have shared together that I couldn't possibly list them all together. The very first day when I went to Madiwala market, the repeated visits to the Forum, the countless days we guys have watched movies together (reminded me of third semester...), the gazillion pocket-pinching auto rides to office and finally the many brilliant nights we stayed up playing cards. Poker, Sweep and 29. Ah, life. Well, I totally forgot to mention the new adventures we were treated to every Saturday! Hmmm, that would probably come under the next section...

Before that, I am so grateful to ALL my fellow interns for making this trip so enjoyable, memorable and eventful. I could never forgot anything or anyone...

Moving on, the logically next set of people to thank. The people at the office. I shouldn't be so general, its more like a set of people
Mohit, my mentor who has spent a lot of time answering doubts on the project and more
Aditya, my pseudo-mentor who also has spent time clearing doubts and more importantly providing some quality tv entertainment (he was my source of Desperate Housewives...sheesh that is sooo misinterprettable :P)
RK, Deepak and Saurabh and the rest of the RecOrder/Auto ppl who have put up with me and my antics
Rency, JTU MoM who took care of us. The rocking saturdays, the lunch-and-learn wednesdays and the incomparable hospitality she treated us with can but be understated as remarkable. Especially the last overnight stay ... Man...

I should also thank all the other fellow Trilogians like Smitha, Anuja, Vikas, Tushar, Animesh, Akshay, Vaibhav and all the others I have so stupidly forgotten to name who have been directly or indirectly responsible for making this such a fun life.

Thinking of office I have atleast two more things I have to add...

MUSIC. Life in Bangalore would have been incomplete without music. And the best part is it never stuck to just one genre. I still had some limited 'addiction-periods' when I was addicted to a particular artist or song but it was a temporary thing at best. I should perhaps take time out to thank Goda for hooking me on to Eminem for a while and to Tho and Senti for Woh Lamhe. There was that other time when I only listened to Norah Jones (ya baby she totally rocks). But now I am just incurably hooked to Layla by Eric Clapton. Where is my Layla? ;).

CHATTING. Office would have been impossible if not for this. Having friends is one thing, but having those who you can talk to daily is totally another. And so I consider myself so lucky that I so many chat-worthy friends.
(Contemplates naming some of them but is afraid he will leave out someone and feel disgusted that he did afterwards)
(Decides to take a risk)

Thus my friends who kept me entertained throughout the 9 weeks at office are (sounds like I am reading out the finalists for some beauty contest...)
(Order determined by the ordering in the Messenger lists)
(Actually not...this is quite arbitrary ordering)
Turkey, Gayatri, Harish, Nakul, Badam, Sunith, Diya, KG, Kabi, Murali, Raza, Ramk, Madhumitha, Ravi, Bharat, Aruna, Ghattu, Pointy, Janani, Kamesh, PTM and anybody else I have been so absentminded to leave out.

(I havent included the 4th wing junta or my fellow interns but there has been significant chatting with these eternally jobless fellows too :D)

Talking about friends, my trip to Bangalore has been characterised by meeting up with a lot of people I havent seen in a long while. Of the top of my head, Sudharshan, Radhika, Akanksha, Yamini and maybe even Bharat who seems to be in town... Well....

And then there is the pseud Hyd trip of which already a post has been written.

Finally a special mention for Tho who has been here throughout. His life also proved to be quite a source of entertainment. :D. Ya thanks to STd and Sassy too.

So people its been a totally hifunda time in Bangalore and its a shame its coming to an end so soon... And if there's anything or anyone I left out feel free to tell me...

Aah Bangalore...sweet Bangalore... if only you had a beach and IIT Madras I would never leave...:P

Tis a long tearful farewell...

But I will be back...one way or the other :)

2005-07-07T06:42:00.000-07:00

All of us in Wonder Valley

2005-07-07T06:41:00.000-07:00

Awww... cho sweet :P

2005-07-07T06:39:00.001-07:00

Dum Lagake...

2005-07-07T06:39:00.000-07:00

Rope Walking :D

2005-07-07T06:38:00.000-07:00

Patriots...

2005-07-07T06:36:00.000-07:00

About to jump... (again Wonder Valley)

2005-07-07T06:32:00.000-07:00

Wonder Valley

An awesome weekend!

2005-07-03T05:26:00.000-07:00

Friday July 1st started quite innocently. It was my Mom's birthday and I duly wished her in the morning (and woke up my earliest ever on a weekday ~8 O'clock). I had no big plans for the day and apart from the fact that I had a TGIFish feeling, nothing great was expected. Was being the keyword.

It was aound noon when I called Thota to fix up our meeting at Forum in order to settle some unfinished financial accounts pending from the Hyderabad trip. He seemed hesitant to agree to this idea and was trying to postpone making the decision til later, say 4 o'clock. I was perturbed by this but agreed thinking of possible reasons why he would rather tell later. I did have an inkling that he wanted to go to the Siemen's Day which he upto now was rather reluctnt to go, now that our man is a 'changed man'. So at around 4, I call only to get invited to the Siemen's Day! Amazing. I didn't need no second invitation for free food (and no I did not go there for the free booze even though there was sooo much of it). So after a short auto trip to BTM Layout and then another quite a long meandering one, we were in the Palace Grounds for Siemen's Day. One thing I must say is that the whole thing was such a gala event with Leela Palace food, Leela booze, dance entertainment and last but not the least a DJ with a cool sense of music. And after thulping the food and the dessert (my count of the gulab jamuns was 5 , rasagulla's was 4 and I had a HUGE helping of the chocolate thing whose name I can't remember let alone pronounce ;) ), we hit the dance floor (ya baby!). And we danced, and danced and danced and ,what do you know, danced more! With but the infantile style of dancing that we inexperienced suffer from. And the best part was we were both dry! (As in sober not the antonym of wet which we were, not because of the refreshing rain that was falling outside, but rather drenched in sweat, which is quite gross in retrospect) The night ended as breathtaking fireworks graced the night sky as one by one they rose from the cleared parking lot only to explode into magnificent sparkling stars of green, purple and other such brilliant colours. Laying back on the green grass exhausted from all the booty shaking (:P) and gazing at the celebrations, I thought to myself, "Thanks Thota!". And yes, I did convey the sentiments across to Thota too.

Saturday July 2nd was quite the opposite to its yesterday because there were plans for the day. Big plans. Unfortunately quite early plans too. For today was the day we would go to Wonder Valley for a whole day of fun-filled activities the nature of which we were mostly ignorant of except for the fact that it dealt with ropes. But a whole day of activites with a sore neck :( as a result of the previous days' events. In any case, the bus ride which was for an hour or so was quite enjoyable as the interns were treated to amazing music(soo much sarcasm it could actually fill up all the empty space in Dubya's brain) by the bus driver who was forced to switch on the same unable to bear the musical talent of Ankush (I get you back for that God-Aweful forward you made me pass on :P). We reached there in time for a quick breakfast and then headed for our first round of activities.

Looked harmless enough the round hoolahoop-like thing. We were initally asked to fit ourselves through the same first one-by-one, then pairwise, then 5 at a time and finally, get this, ALL of us at once. (For all non believers and/or those-who-think-Im-exaggerating, the loop was really just a piece of elastic, like a tyre tube, but only the size of a hoolahoop. And if still arent convinced, I have pictorial proof :D) Once that task was accomplished, we went to an obstacle race after being split into two groups. This race was quite a difficult one with various catches and tricks and after nearly an hour of strenous working and inspired groupwork (and in my case infinite embarassments :( ) the teams both completed , though our team just got edged out by our competitors. And like true sportsmen we accepted defeat sorely and went on to complain that we were 7 and they were 6 , so actually....

So on to the second exciting task. After lunch, we hit the rope walking part of our day! This was truly the best part of the day as we took to the trees and with the help of some safety harnesses and some balancing rope walked on a iron rope tied between two trees, all by ourselves!! And the guy in charge made us fall backwards when in the middle of the trip just to provide that extra "oomph" to the already "oooh" experience. (Needless to asy , your truly made a fool of himself just trying to climb onto the tree though the rope walking part was surprsingly a piece of cake however 'adrenaline-racing' the whole thing was)

The last leg of our day was to be one for the hydrophilic. A home-made raft, with but its barrels of air and bamboo framework, and some jarringly yellow-coloured life jackets, we set out in 2 groups of 8 , one team after the other, rowing in the most ridiculous way one can stroke synchronously. "Left full reverse! Right full forward! Left stop rowing! Right please row! " enveloped us as we traversed the tawny coloured lake which truth-be-told looked dirtier than the water that results from a bath I have after playing football in the quadrangle in the rain... As we "Dum lagake- Ailasa"ed the breadth of the lake and back, the next team got on to row themselves to glory (and more importantly, for photos that they can show off later :P).

As we returned to the guesthouse, all tired out by the days' activities and the inexplicable energy with which we sang hindi film songs, english songs, tam songs (;) ) and even advertisements all the bus ride back, four of us decided to dinner on pizza mostly because were too beat to go out to eat. And so we ate pizza and drank pepsi ; so much pizza and pepsi that after everything was done, we were left with four glasses of pepsi, half-filled, unable to complete it ! (and a rather light wallet :( ) It took us a good half an hour before we were able to drink the pepsi with but small sips. I always said pizza and pepsi is the complete meal! Ah satisfaction... we ended up talking upto 4 in the morning when the more fortunate of us braved sleep to watch Godfather... (I ended up sleeping some time soon after realising I wanted to go to office early next morning to check mail as is my habit of late)

July 3rd Sunday (I wanted to change the format of the date 'cause its getting too monotonous...) I did get to office but only by 11. And by 12 I was outta there 'cause I was to meet up with an old school friend, Radhika, who too is in Bangalore interning til almost the end of the year. We ended up having great Italian food (mama mia, really good food ... and filling) and we talked about friends both old and new. Brough got back memories of school and how unbelievably incredible schoollife was for me. How much fun we had in school...too much. But people change. Amazing how someone can change so much so fast. And yes she had changed too (:P). We exchanged gossips about school friends (read : she told me everything about everyone ;) ). We walked for a distance before we took an auto to Forum where we parted ways. Ah school...ah life.... ah nostalgia

And finally I ended up in the office, thinking I could get some work done. But then realising that it would be better to pen a post while the memory of everything is quite fresh in one's memory, I sat down to write a post.

And after it was all done I wrote :

THE END.

Ghosts !?!

2005-06-26T06:22:00.000-07:00

It was a normal enough saturday. Weekends for a Trilogy intern usually means something cool to do and today wasnt an exception. In fact today was the much-hyped Mentor-Interns football match. (By much-hyped I mean known to all mentors and interns and the HR incharges; Clearly I need to find myself a better PR guy :P) . Us interns were confident of a victory and were much encouraged by the customised football jerseys we had designed for ourselves with a totally awesome punchline "Thou shall kick butt". We were even more 'kicked' when we heard that atleast three mentors will not be able to make it and like true sportsmen we would play with the three man advantage and easily win the match. Well, thats what we thought...

In some desolate footer ground away from civilization the match was to begin. Many strategies were suggested until finally one of us decided "Just play somewhere". Brilliant. Ancelloti will die and turn in his grave. In any case that what was happened. More controversies ensued as the mentors demanded an intern to balance the teams and none of us were game. Finally Harsh was misinterpreted as he went to convey this message and was shortly chosen as the intern-traitor. (His game suggested otherwise but we would rather have had the three man advantage.) Finally all matters settled, the match began as the interns kept attacking and the mentors couldn't break past our strong defense (what did you expect with Pirlo defending ;) ). The ball was being lost in the midfield by both teams (or is it rather the ball was being won in the midfield by both teams?). Pirlo made some amazing (read decent) runs from defense upto the D beating upto 4 defenders at one time. So it was only a matter of time.And thus Pani dazzled and dribbled past an unsuspecting goalie and the first goal was scored. Hurrah! Interns in front. The rest of the half was uneventful but for a good save by the intern goalie Ankush.

Halftime. New ideas. New strategy was "Just play somewhere else". Tactically sound huh? In any case that was also what the mentors were doing... Without wasting much time on describing that which can but be best described decently dreary, lets just say that I was quick to score the intern's second goal after Pani took a neat free kick. Some mentors did complain of offside but professional players like us know how to beat the offside trap (which was a couple of defenders too tired to run back). So officially we were 2 goals ahead. And the audience were on their feet. All the 3 spectators that is.

Alas, the match did not end desirably as one of the sore mentors brought down his intern ostensibly trying to dribble the ball. Just kidding... Actually, Ankush just sprained his leg and developed a lump on his foot thus bringing the game to an early end. But the result was that the interns won. Clearly. And it was us who walked away with the bigger cups although the difference was but visible to a nanotechnologist. *hmph*

In all the sport enthusiasm I almost forgot the true reason I wanted to write this post. It all started at around 12 or 12:30 saturday night. Or rather sunday morning. Four of us were sitting in my room playing sweep when suddenly Abhinov walked in and said (Much of the conversations that took place happened in Hindi but for want of sufficient Hindi prowess and/or I believe I can manipulate it much better in English, it has all been translated into English without loss of information and more importantly interest) "Believe this or not, the bathroom adjacent our room is locked from the inside and no one is inside! Saundar just checked its locked from the inside " (Saundar is a caretaker of our guesthouse). Obviously this was too interesting to ignore and thus all of us ran out where the others had gathered to see Saundar climbing down the pipe 'cause it was the bathroom in the first floor. "Ghosts?" asked Abhinov.

Ghosts!?! Not quite... It turned out the lock in that room was loose and closed hard enough, seemed to lock itself. But then the whole experience got us thinking and some of us got a brilliant plan to frighten the others with the whole ghost idea.

So as we gathered outside the first floor common lounge area (I make it sound so palacial but its only a cubicle sized place with a couple of sofas and an opulent looking fan), Abhinov quipped "Arre yaar, do you guys know about the suicide that took place in this house ? Ramesh, our ex-caretaker told me about this the first day and realising that he was slightly psyching us out did not reveal more about the same ...". Initally I was unaware that this was but a clever performance but soon I too was told of the plan. And listen to this ... we actually decided to summon the ghost! With a custom made ouija board (a piece of paper with scribblings on it) and a candle, we decided to pretend to call a Holy Ghost !!!

But then something really strange happened. Four of us were touching the coin on the paper, chanting strange incantations which was something like "Holy Ghost roaming here and there come to us...are you here? " much to the chagrin of the more pious, when all of a sudden the candle went off. Before the abrupt interruption, we were probably only fooling around but with as darkness enveloped us (save the light from the television that someone was watching), an eerie silence permeated the air. As the light was switched on, someone suddenly noticed that the coin was no longer in the middle of the paper as it was before and instead had reached the part of the paper that read "YES". A look of squeamishness decorated our faces as quickly we enquired amongst each other whodunnit? Apparently noone! Acting brave we rubbished away any idea of anything supernatural...

We remained together watching tv for almost 2 more hours. Someone actually even burnt up that piece of paper and noone volunteered to touch the coin we used...

Hmmm.... Ghosts !?! Bah Humbug.

A Saint and his Bubblygoofing Friends in Hyderabad

2005-06-20T06:03:00.000-07:00

Quite difficult to imagine that it could actually happen. A meeting of the 6, the illustrious sextet, referred to by the masses as the 4th wing gumbal. Needless to say it turns out it did happen and even more needless to say, it was a blast!

The meeting was chalked up and tickets were booked. Plans were made and remade. Certain wellwishers tried to convince yours truly to even indulge in such blasphemous activities as consumption of alcohol. But a Saint never gives in to temptation (unless he wants to , of course. But He didnt).

Who the fuck is the Saint?

Please no obscenities. Not good for your karma and nirvana and stuff like that. By the way, the Saint : its me.
Sanjeev
Sanjeev Vaidyanathan
Sanjeev Helmet Vaidyanathan
Sanjeev Helmet Pirlo Vaidyanathan
Saint Sanjeev Helmet Pirlo Vaidyanathan
That's me. Right after the rain dance of but a week ago, which would by itself would make an entertaining post , what with so much water and booze and food and dance and babes ;). I dont remember too much details of that day, except that I danced as if my butt was on fire and was quite drunk (sic on quite) and I hugged a lot of people as is my drunken idiosyncrasy. And perhaps most importantly for me, I got some good pics to show it off...:D.

But thats the past. For now His Holiness Saint Sanjeev H P V shall never touch any alcohol. His Holiness shall not cut his hair (til he wishes). He shall not cut his fingernails (til he wishes). He never reads books or has any such bad habits (til he wishes). Perhaps I should have added 'til he wishes' for the first sentence as well; would make the whole 'keeping-the-resolution' thing much easier...

Anyways more about the Hyd trip. It all started with the Bangalore-Secundarabad train which harboured Tho and I on Friday. The train journey was largely uneventful except for a pair of good looking girls. Now would be a good time to explain the meaning of this stupid sounding yet highly addictive word: Bubblygoofing. Bubblygoofing is a highly scientific term to describe the activities of the male of the species when he goes in search of or even looks with much admiration at a specimen of the fairer sex. Efforts are on to characterise a similar term called Buntygoofing...

Saturday was spent at Tho's house and later on lunch. Batman begun afterwards and I thought the movie was quite interesting. Dasan Effect did strike most of us unsuspecting innocents after the heavy lunch. Yes yes it was the lunch only...I think...

Anyways, the better (or was it worse) part of saturday was spent in a building called the Lifestyle building. For want of a better way to explain the whole situation and because it would be morbidly boring to go into the exact details, save Goda et I, the other drowned themselves in booze and were as drunk as ... as ... as Lala? Well, almost.Even Senti got drunk! Tho and Metro were inseparable as they blabbered gooblygook to glory and Das, well he pretty much did nothing 'cause he was so OUT. It was quite funny, humourous. For once the newly rechristened Saint found himself on the other side of the alcoholically handicapped. Lets just say that Carrot, Hyd will probably not let 4thwing in again...*phew*

Sunday was spent touring the 10,000 crore Ramoji Film City which was quite nice though expensive. The highlight of the whole thing was unarguably the Bumping Cars in which we ganged up on poor Tho. Hah, how grown up are we! Just love it! We even went around taking "creative" pics of everything and anything. Some of us also indulged in bubblygoofing. Of course, the Saint can never do anything such frivolous. Yes , and the Saint also is the epitome of humility and never lies.

As time came to part, Dasan and I met up with two friends, Gayatri and Diya. One who just works too much and loves mallu roomies and the other... the other just claims that she never drinks and enjoys museums. She works too...sometimes. Unfortunately our short rendezvous was cut short 'cause I had a bus to catch which inevitably turned out to be a hour and a half late.

To top it all off, today morning I alighted from the bus at a point which turned out to be almost the furthermost point from HSR and ended up parting with a hundred to a rather like-I-give-a-shit-about-your-stupidity auto driver.

Ah good times! Amazing experience. So much fun. And so much money spent!

After all "We're in 4th year da!"

So difficult

2005-06-14T09:18:00.000-07:00

Why is it so difficult?

What is this unqualified 'it' you ask?Anything and everything..

Why is it so difficult to feel so alone with so many people around you?

Why is it as difficult to have your privacy ostensibly trespassed by strangers?

Why is it so difficult to convince others that you are correct?

Why is it as difficult to let others convince you that you are wrong?

Why is it so difficult to spend a continuous hour looking at the star studded sky?

Why is it as difficult to spend a continuous hour trying to concentrate on your work?

Why is it so difficult to make a resolution that you can keep?

Why is it MORE difficult to keep a resolution that you make?

Why is it so difficult not to nod at someone who is making a presentation and just asked a rhetorical questions?

Why is it as difficult to contain your laughter at the way the same person is presenting his work?

Why is it so difficult to say hi to someone you dont know or havent met in a long while?

Why is it as difficult to reply when someone you don't know or havent met in a long while, says hi?

Why is it so difficult to have grand dreams when you know they are but dreams?

Why is it so difficult to see movies and not imagine yourself as the protogonist?

Why is it so difficult not to criticise Bollywood and Kollywood movies but at the same time so easy to appreciate Hollywood movies?

Why is it so difficult to not be egotistical and even more not to be egoistical?

Why is it so difficult to accept that some things never change and some people never change?

Why is it so difficult to compliment someone but so easy to criticise them?

Why is it so difficult to make but so easy to break?

Why is so easy to pose questions but so difficult to answer them?

So many questions. Nice try I can even essay an answer for any of them.

But surely I can add on more...

Why is it so difficult to miss going on death-defying treks in the supposedly beautiful pristine mountains of Coorg with your friends?

Why is it as difficult to tell your friends how much fun you had in the high-spirited rain dance party that you attended at a popular nightclub the same weekend ?

;)

Just Chill Chill Just Chill

2005-06-07T08:30:00.000-07:00

Guess some hindi songs are still bearable. Some are quite good infact, for example the song "Dus Bahene" and the aforementioned song with the same name as the topic. Thankfully for you,me and all the people who I cant describe in better words, this post is not about songs.

Its about...

(drumrolls)

(sufficient throat clearing)

Thota and me

Whoever said "Third time's the charm" clearly didnt know that Thota and I exist.

Act 1 Scene 1 (I always wanted to do this, but heck who has the patience)
A crowded shopping mall appropriately called Forum. This place is one amazing place for anything you want to do : eat, shop, see movies and umm, anything else you consider worthy spending your time on. Well needless to say it was been the site of many a rendezvous, already, in the short time I've been here.
The incident in question was the second or third time for me there. I was supposed to meet up with Thota to watch some movie which eventually we didnt go to. In this modern age of cell phones one would hardly consider it irksome to find a friend even if it is in a densely infested region such as Forum. So phone call after phone call was made (totally 3?) before we reached a decision to meet up on the 2nd floor (?) near the area overlooking the central part of the mall. And when I reached there, I couldnt find him. Another call and we began discussing nearby landmarks like "Im standing next to a yellow dustbin da!" and "Im standing next to so-and-so shop da". Then Thota asked what colour t-shirt I was wearing. I realised I had heard him louder than before. And I turned 90' (no more) and there he was ,feverishly searching here and there for his friend (me). And I tapped him on the shoulder, lightly at first which he shooed away perhaps likening it to a fly, and then hard enough for our man to realise he who he was searching everywhere (but near him) was , well, next to him.

Act 2 Scene 1
A deserted unknown road. Time is 11:30ish. Two strangers to a strange land. The exceitment of seeing the Champions League Finals after overcoming much obstacles keeps me going.
Again the cellphone conversation.This time it directs us (us refers to Rahul, a fellow intern and me) to 7th main,18th cross road.
Me : "Hello tho? I am here da.Where are you?"
Tho : "Oh you're here...I'm coming" (sounds as if he just got up)
Me : "So I'm on 18th cross...standing by the yellow thing which says 18th..."
Tho : "Wait da. Yeah me too." (Pause) "Where are you?"
Me : "Dei.I told na..."
Tho : "I can't see you da? Are you sure you're in the correct 7th main?"
Me : "What there are 2? Useless fellow..."
(I ask the auto driver ,who is inevitably ,just to make the situation idyllic, drunk, and he replies that he has no idea)
Me : "There is a flag here da"
Tho : "What flag da?"
Me : "I dont know da...its kannada..."
Tho : "Ok wait .. did a vehicle pass you? "
Me : "No...only a scooty..."
Tho : "Thu. Did you come by auto? "
Me : "Ya da. Dei hi da " (He is standing some 50 metres away from me looking the other way)
Tho : "Man! how come you didnt see the bike da? I asked you na?"
Me : "Idiot. It was a scooty. It was a scooty right?" (turns to Rahul)
Rahul : "Yes" (perhaps laughing so much on the inside at the idiocy of these two IITians...)

Act 3 Scene 1 (The proverb-contradictor)
Imagine beautiful blue water. Waves rippling through. A dozen or so highly enthusiastic thrill seekers climbing on inflated plastic tyres . :D. Thats Water World, Club Cabana. Awesome place. (Really enjoyed myself except for the part that for a moment all us interns were standing out of the water in our make-do swimming wear (basically our shorts) with no idea where Rency, our in-charge was... in retrospection that was fun too :P)
So anyways, just about to leave, I place a call to Thota coz I knew he was there too.
(Again the dialogue format, its easier)
Me : "Tho Where are you da?"
Tho : "Im in the restaurant. You?"
Me : "Im leaving the water world da.Super fun da"
Tho : "Dei wait da. Im coming there only...Can you see the artificial wave thing?"
Me : "Ya da ... I'm in front of it."
Tho : "No da Im in front of it"
Me : "Wait" (Walked slightly ahead) "I cant see you da"
Tho : "I cant see you either...what are you wea"(interrupted)
Me : "I think this is going to be our third time da. Just look close by"
Tho and Me (simultaneously as we found each other, one at foot of a stairs and the other at the top looking onto the wave area ) : "Give up da..."

So...a lot of narrations and blogistically licensed exaggeration later, I hence prove third time need not be the charm unless you include a PS saying "subject to market risks and Chaos Theory". You never know when a butterfly is going to flap its wings...

And hey chew on this...

What maketh a man?

2005-06-02T09:54:00.000-07:00

Reading maketh a full man and writing an exact man. So said someone. But thats not what was thinking about. Quite different in fact.

What maketh a man? Is it the man or the men around him? Sounds rather trivial... clearly its the man you say. But surely, as it did it with me after I first reflected on this rather philosophical question, one would be rather unsure. The same feeling as you get when you look at a true/false question whose contents you're vaguely familiar with and you're inclined towards one of the choices but not confident enough. Thank you PH101,PH102 and PH103 for the apt parallels you have provided.

So, for ye in support of the Man and pooh-pooh my ostensibly weak attempt claiming that it is but the man who makes the men around him, I say cease and desist, O ignorant one. For do you not see the recursive way that the human soceity works. Do you not see that which is so blatantly obvious to one even as naive to the workings of Man as myself that most of the time, (quantifier used to stress on the exceptions as must be in any system generalisable with an universal rule), that most of the time, a man befriends another because of the company he keeps or sometimes even to further a mutual interest.

No man does anything which does not directly or indirectly benefit him. Or so I feel. Or, a little stronger claim, or so I know. *gulp* . Ok, compromise, or so I claim. A normal socially active human being lives for himself and it is still unknown to the thinking Helmet why he should not lead such a selfish existence. And the generous souls involved in charities and other activites supposedly not for their own gain, they do so only to further their own impression with the Guy up there or perhaps to earn themselves nirvana or good karma or something like that. Again, its all for themselves.

On an afterthought the above para looks like an aside. That or my thoughts which were affected by a blinking IM from one of my friends seems too lazy to bring about the connection which I thought was brilliant enough to include the above para. Ah, you win some you lose some.

So back to makething a man. I was thinking about how popular such sites as orkut and other such nefariously similar sites are and I realise that man craves for much attention. Even the so called introverts who sign on and add no one as their friends perhaps only as an attempt to get noticed. Man needs men around him who he can say known him. It is often not even necessary for him to reciprocate the other person's existence as long as the latter knows him. This is the very basis of the concept so inconspicuously termed fame.

Feels elated on writing the above line. It almost sounds like having written a large thesis and saying "...and thus we have proved that there are aliens out there" or " ... and thus we can find the optimal distance between the eyes and the board at which you will sleep the fastest" .
Almost like proving some Open Problem and writing QED. Unfortunately for me, what I did above constitutes at best a prize in the Ignoble awards.

Its strange that a man's contacts mean more of him than himself. But thats the world out there. Dog eat dog and other men make man world. Strange.

Note: the fact that I used man everywhere and not man/woman even once does not prove that I am a male chauvinist. This note, for one clearly goes to prove my "innocence" if that term does suit this noun in this context. And moreover if it really relevant , it did perturb me a lot that I did not involve the woman. So much so that I will write here. Man/Woman. Satisfaction....

Yours
SS

To believe or not to believe

2005-05-30T09:06:00.000-07:00

MUST SEE THIS!!!

http://news.ninemsn.com.au/timeline.as px

It seems rather sad when something like this happens; I don't know who to believe. Schapelle Corby ? By the video which you would have probably just seen you would not hesitate to agree with me that her innocence is obvious. Or perhaps you aren't like me , so easy and so gullible.

The fact of the matter is one, I really think that 20 years of imprisonment is too much for someone who I believe to be innocent. I don't remember where I heard this (I think it was one of the episodes of JAG which ironically I neither watched much or liked much) : It is better to let 10 guilty men go free than put one innocent man in jail. Man/woman. Whatever. I can't begin to imagine how I'd feel if confronted with a similar situation. Unknown country. Gone on holiday! Unknown people, unknown language, ... my God, for the love of all that I find imperfect in my life, I would never exchange it for something like that.

That said, a more scary thought comes to mind. I just imagined what if that girl wasnt innocent, wasnt the victim of a domestic drug deal, wasnt all that the above video and all her actions make her out to be. What if , and this is a big if for me even to imagine because I am so convinced of her innocence however baseless and based on but the above video, What if she really is a drug dealer. And if she is a drug dealer, then by the amount of drugs found on her, she would be really a big one. Or involved with a really big drug ring. Which is scary because that just goes to show how no one is trustable. Trust noone? If all this was but a charade, then a pretty good acting job might I add, then isnt that really showing on my human tendency to be oh-so-gullible? Or is it just me who seems so affected by this video?

One of my friends sent this as a link to me and I dont think even he thought much of it.Or he didnt show. He just said something goofy like "I'm going to buy one more lock" or something like that. Pity. Humanity seems devoid of the most basic of humane values. Pitiful indeed.

I really wasn't going to write today. I thought I'd leave office early and catch a good movie or continue reading my book. Or even go to sleep rather early. But somehow this thing caught my attention and what can I say, I was shocked, moved, taken aback and finally frightened into writing this post. May seem rather insipid to someone reading this but to him/her I would just like to say Go to Hell, you misanthropic son-of-a-bitch.

I could go on to write about the fun weekend I had and all that about the fun life Im leading. But somehow it wouldnt be right. Would sound rather hypocrtical to end on such a note.

Tragical. Reminds me of George Bernard Shaw somehow...

There are two tragedies in life. One is not to get your heart's desire. The other is to get it.

Huh, I dont get how its applicable here either.

Hey, I lost a week somewhere

2005-05-26T08:39:00.000-07:00

So I was thinking about how wonderful it would be if life was but a Hollywood film and everyone had his heroine, all beautiful,smart, in a high-paying job, ready to risk everthing for the hero (who is you) and most importantly will end up with you whatever natural disaster, unnatural disaster, animal, monster, robot, Brad Pitt, through anything basically. Yes, that would be a good life. It would be...

%Reality check% In the form of a somewhat recognisable voice from behind your chair, for all the above reflection was done in the privacy and the comfort of my chair , listening to the host of songs that the Considerate One, Goda charitably sent to the Unfortunate Ones (Thota and me) after much persuation...

Mentor : Umm, can you write out a mail about what all you've done in the past two weeks.
Me: oh. ok. (pause) Can I mention I was installing software?
Mentor : (Slightly taken aback) Please dont. okay one line maybe.
Me: hmm. ok.

So then I realised, I have almost finished two weeks here. So I beg to ask the question "Where did I lose my second week??? "...

So I bent my back (quite literally; and I bent it back not forward. The chairs here are much suited to back bending and it really feels relaxing). So as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted by my chaotic thinking process, I bent my back and thought.What has been happening???

So here's what I realised:

Monday : Pretty much any normal sane "working" guy's monday. Adjusting to the quintessential blues. But the highlight of the day was the dinner treat by this dude Drew, really nice american chap and the food was really good, company was really good, yada yada yada blah blah. And I had a screwdriver to mark the occasion. Yes, and I did mark it on the calender. (Duh I didnt actually take a marker and a calender and mark it; mental note types)

Tuesday : So there happens to be a trilogy screening of Star Wars 3 - Revenge of the Sith. Totally worth the 100 odd Rs ticket one needs to watch the movie in the nearby PVR theatre. The movie and the theatre. Twas a blast. Needless to say I dont remember the exact work I accomplished on this day.

Wednesday : There's this system of Lunch and Learn every Wednesday when someone comes and talks about something and then all of us eat. Quite cridely put, but thats the truth. So, we had a nice informal talk about Trilogy and TU and many stories related to the two. Yummy burgers to end up the session. I think I looked through some database design or something after that, but its all very hazy...

Thursday:Ahhh, wait...rewind.

Wednesday(contd.) : Etwas 11:30. No power in HSR Layout guesthouse which houses football crazy yours truly. And noone, I say noone (this means you das; #$%^), misses a Champions League Finals. So I ,using my internationally renowned contacts, manged to find a suitable match viewing location with Thota. The auto ride there was quite uneventful. The match was one of the best ever( suspicions of fixing?) though Milan ended up losing to Liverpool after having a 3-0 lead. So its 3am in the morning ... oh...

Thursday: We're back. So its 3am and Rahul and I, OH. Rahul is the 9th intern. Brief intro: from IIT Roorkee. Ok back to Thursday 3 am. In the middle of nowhere. An eerie silence permeates the air while the drizzle but adds to the general creepiness of the situation. For want of any particularly interesting events (except for that one cat which was watching me rather wierdly), Ill just go on to say that we finally caught an auto at 3:15 and got back at 3:30, inevitably to a dark and currentless guesthouse. But I thank the Lord that I didnt miss that match.

So back to today. I actually realised I had done some work and continued the "good work". Also I read three more chapters of Of Human Bondage.

Oh Helmet how diligent you are.

Hmmm, does anybody not know about the party tomorrow :D? For another post...

Reality continues to ruin my life

2005-05-23T06:00:00.000-07:00

So one week into my brief sojourn in the City of Gardens and I somehow feel I am not living up to the totally wild ride as I expected of this stay. But actually I am not complaining. I've been having a good time. Catching up with friends new, old and ... umm... older. Seeing a plethora of movies new, old and ...ummm... older. (I promise you I had not thought of this uncanny coincidence till I wrote it)

But somehow I think I am not completely satisfied. Although I've like already visited two rather popular "watering holes", which had rocking ambiences - one retro and the other rock, I somehow thought there would be ...ummm.. something more.

The reason I'm umming a lot is that I really don't know how else to put it and/or I'm thinking and writing at the same time and trying to include my thinking process as well. Bear with me. Or don't. Actually please.

Ok. So I read the book Moon and Sixpence and Im convinced now that Somerset Maugham is one of the greatest writers ever. I actually consider him with the same respect as I do Bill Watterson, creator of Calvin and Hobbes, who is without a doubt the most creative person ever. But without meandering from what I was about to say, which was about the aforementioned book that I just read, I will continue. Somehow the book seems to strike a perfect chord with something I was thinking the other day about human beings. (The fact of the matter is that the book deals with so much more and conveys all of it a gazillion times better than I could ever envisage myself doing but for want of a genius I shall strive to maintain the levels of mediocrity that I always do and one day gain enough insight into literary geniuses and their ilk, that I too essay some piece of far-reaching import that people somewhere will get inspired by. Till that day ...umm... bear with me.)

(Rereads last paragraph because so confused now)

What I was thinking about was that human beings do so much , act as they do, practically live their entire lives just to satisfy other peoples' opinions. And a person who actually lives his life for his own self, well "selfish self", is shunned with such ferocity. Which is quite strange. Since it seems meaningless to live a life for anyone except oneself. But then is it a weakness of some kind that normal mortals like say you and me (I'm kind of assuming the reader to be normal; correct me if need be) feel that somehow some of our actions (and inactions) is influenced by how other people think or even may think of us? If it is not a weakness then pray tell me what it is and of what significance can another's views be on my life. And if it is a weakness, does this mean I will grow stronger if I start not caring about what other people think of me?

Well, so much wisdom. And so young a mind. Hmmm. Clearly humility is something I don't care for. Or do I? What would others think of an arrogant Helmet? Or even worse, what if I'm already an egotistic insolent brat whose orotund talk makes him a much hated character... Gee... I read somewhere imagination is the mother of all fuckups...Guess that was right.

Guess thats it. Just like to add that the title is courtesy Bill Watterson...

And I leave you with yet another thought provoking question...

Its been a hard day's work :D

2005-05-18T06:29:00.000-07:00

So here I am, three days in Bangalore. Well, not much has happened. Adjusting to life mainly. So any attempt by me to essay a post will probably encompass all that is quite banally normal. Though there still remains much curiosity even in the mundane when it is rightly described. That said, let me try to be a diligent servant of my senses as I address the situation at hand.

The guesthouse. A cozy place in HSR Layout. I suppose when one lives in a squalid single IITian room for the most part of his semester, anything else seems palacial. The rooms are actually quite big for two people which is how we are sharing it at the moment. More to be said about the residents of the guesthouse soon.A welcome respite to my ennui is in the refreshing form of cable television with hbo,star movies,starsports,espn, et al. That too for a CAS-enforced outcast. The caretaker of this guesthouse, who manages the cooking and cleaning and laundry, is a typical tamilian character hailing from the city of Madurai. Not much can be said about him perhaps for lack of idiosyncracies or maybe more for lack of interest.

The fellow interns. There are so far eight of us though I hear a couple will be joining us shortly. I guess knowing them but for three days doesnt exactly entertain a great study of their characters but it is said that first impressions are the best impressions. So a brief description about each of them.

Himanshu - I wonder why I put his name first. I somehow envisage him as the leader of our group. He is from IIT-kgp and has been here for two weeks now. Very friendly guy. Seems to be very smart and fun.

Ankush - This guy is from IIT Kanpur. Has been talking with me from day 1 asking things varying wildly from quake, AIR and movies. Seems to be a dedicated chap though distractable.

Pani - The only guy with which we have attributed a nick. His name is some D* Pani (I don't quite know his whole name) and everyone seems to be comfortable calling him Pani. Very avid bookreader and apparently a fellow football enthusiast, I would term Pani the most interesting person I have met among the interns. He is a total workaholic and is so dedicated to his work. He even skips lunch coz it makes him sleepy.He is also a thinker or so he claims...

Karthik - This Anna Univ guy, tam, reminds me of another Anna Univ guy, a certain Shyam, I had met some time back during the Lucent interview, coincidentally , also in Bangalore. Karthik is confident and sure of himself and he is my lone tam confidant.Not that I have had any secrets to share so far...

Harsh and Abhinav - These two guys from Pune Univ are here for 6 months! I somehow feel it appropriate to address them together though they are hardly alike. Just that they seem to hang around a lot. But lets just say I have a feeling that we'll be having a lot of fun together...

Rohit - My roommate.Perhaps the unluckiest because he seems to have gotten himself quite a demanding mentor. This guy had tickets to the Satriani show and couldn't go beacuse of office commitments. On the second day of his internship! Nice guy though.

And me - enough said about me already :D.

Anyways, I should also include something about my mentor Mohit. Seems really cool and peaceful. Veru friendly and somehow, don't ask me how and why because you will want to, he reminds me of Topa, the Jam stud. (Don't you want to know how and why? I really don't know)

So I think that's pretty much the situation at hand. Rather decently addressed I would say. Though lacking pretty words and intelligible vocabulary. Come to think of it, there is one more thing.

This internship has also somehow evoked a long lost literary love for me.That is, if you could call picking up a book "literary love". But take into account that I havent read a book in like a year now, you'd probably have to agree. And it isnt something like the Calvin and Hobbes book that I have been yearning to read for a looooong time now. This is Moon and Sixpence by a certain Somerset Maugham. I decided to read this book primarily for two reasons. One, it played a rather important role in my second year crossword position and I have fancied it ever since. Two and probably more importantly, the cable was off for a couple of hours on Monday and circumsatnces led me to ask Pani for a distraction because I felt anything would be more fun than staring blankly into the wall and ceiling. So there, I started reading this book which I feel is rather brilliantly written. It is rather in tatters though much delight can be elicited from reading the intricate storyline, vivd descriptions and the awesome language in each frayed page ...

I think I like this book. But only time can tell. Much like I say I think I like the stay here. The internship. Life. And all that jazz...

Here comes the Sun...

2005-05-12T22:26:00.000-07:00

Know the sun? That yellow ball of fire in the sky glowing all day and sleeping all night? That without which such significant processes like photosynthesis, vitamin-d generation, cloth-drying in most parts of the non-concrete-jungle world, solar cookers, solar heaters, solar eclipses and the like are but figments of a deluded mind. That which can drive a sane mind insane and an insane mind insaner.

Oh so you don't know the sun? Just go outside for a couple of minutes. Look up. For a couple of seconds or more. Got blinded by some bright light? That's the sun.

So anyways, Ra seems to be really angry these days. Or is it really happy? Whichever, he seems to be showing his love for Chennai. In multitudes. And it doesn't help the Rain God gives a rat's ass about Singara Chennai with visits more infrequent than me attending my pass-fail course.

I thought I would write this post from a cozy terminal in the computer science DCF,which by the way is one best hidden places in all of insti and has airconditioning which feels ambrosiac in this intolerable weather but then I decided against it for two reasons. One, I am too lazy to go there. Two, who the fuck is going to cycle in the sun? On another realted thought, I can't really understand people who want to travel to hot places for their vacation. I mean, seriously, you go to a place which is HOT !?! I guess in quite a similar way those inane fools can't understand we who would rather spend our time in colder places.On much reflection, I would rather freeze to death than die from a heat stroke. No, I really mean that. There's a scientific reason to it too. Atleast if you freeze there may one day be a landmark scientific development wherein frozen people can be brought back to life. I don't imagine people dieing from heat strokes getting a second chance at life.

I pride myself in my sanity...

Since the holidays started last week, I thought it was smooth sailing. I thought I could sleep early, get up late, indulge in food,silly animated charcters from Animax and Pogo and all that I didn't have time for during the semester. And well, I sort of did. All was fine. Except for one small obstacle. A presentation for a certain course. Wait, before you reach unsolicited conclusions as to the nature of the course let me tell you it was perhaps the best course last sem.Reason? No quizzes,No midsem, No endsem, No assignments.Yes none of that. But a presentation. I did finally get it done today (for which I stayed the night at the hostel which was fun). Well now I can safely say ,(clears his throat)," My semester is done."

With but two days to go til I reach Bangalore, I am trying to remind myself constantly that's its a internship and not a vacation. What can I do if they are providing me free accommodation in a service apartment? And send me mails telling me that I shouldn't bring any formal wear since they are very casual people? And send me another mail telling me that the office timings start at 11 and requesting me not to come earlier since the office will be empty otherwise? And paying me money on top of all of this? Really, can you blame me?

I really dont know how often I will updating the virtual representation of the random train of thoughts that so uniquely and ,most of the times, tackily personify he who people call Helmet.
So I shall I have to suitably convey my feelings now that this post is coming to a rather natural death.

Which is to say, sayanora for now.

A tribute to a semester

2005-05-05T09:27:00.000-07:00

Well what can I say. Its all over. The brilliant and awesome semester that I have so utterly enjoyed. Its all over.

Perhaps its just me, but when every sem comes to an end, I tend to look back and say, "Man this semester was the best semester ever ." But I can hardly overemphasise the reality of the situation now. The 6th semester has been THE defining semester of my short 3 years in the hallowed halls of the prestigious instituition called IIT Madras. No wait, thats not it. The 6th semester has been THE defining period of time of a not-that-short 20 years of my very existence.

At this point any person who just went "Thu" or "Machan too much da" or "Sleisha overaction macchi" or any other such clearly unneccessary deragatory comments can go f*ck a tree. The truth is the truth is the truth. Enough said about that.

A Special mention: To all the wonderful and amazing seniors we've had who are passing out from the illustrious hostel Narmada. Really these guys are one set of fun and interesting people who have been our friends, guides, mentors and all that razzmatazz which junta use in speeches... They've played footer with us, they've put treats for us, taken treats from us (:P), put rather important academically related fundaes, put even more important fundaes on life, basically they have been such an integral part of our lives. So to all those seniors especially the 3rd wing footer junta and the 6th wing Quake junta (Quake and related 6th wing activities), a toast, to your good health and your success.
(*virtually takes a sip from a glass of red wine or champagne or any other toastworthy drink*)
(*virtually removes a lone tear to mark all the senti feelings*)

Alas, as the treacherous end semesters ended , all the comrades of the one they call Helmet seem to be disappearing one by one.Which is to say, they are all heading home.After spending almost the whole of 4 months in the presence of such eminent and enjoyable characters life seems to be heading for rather boring times. Only Senti-"Masti karenge" and Thota-"Pack da" remain and they too head back by the weekend. Tsk Tsk... But then , as one who knows the proverbs of the richly ordained language of english would say, "Every cloud has its silver lining"...

And the argentous lining in my case , and one Im very anxiously looking forward to, is the Bangalore internship with Trilogy starting May 15. Im hoping its going to be a blast, what with Thota, Satya, Ganja, Laddu and a host of other characters being there as well... It is rather unfortunate that our sextet of friends got split pairwise into Bang,Hyd and Chennai. Hmmm...

So anyways as the title says this post was supposed to be a tribute to the wonderful four months of 2005. Ended up randomly addressing various things my train of thoughts led me to. So anyways, before I run out of adjectives for my vocabulary is quite restricted ,I shall wrap up this post.

Thank you guys for such a super sem...(see I am running out of adjectives...)... here's hoping to an equally rocking 4th year...

Calvin: How come old photographs are always black and white? Didn't they have color film back then?
Dad: Sure they did. In fact, those old photographs *are* in color. It's just that the*world* was black and white then. The world didn't turn color until sometime in the 1930s, and it was pretty grainy color for a while, too.
Calvin: But then why are old *paintings* in color?! If the world was black and
white, wouldn't artists have painted it that way?
Dad: Not necessarily. A lot of great artists were insane.
Calvin: But... But how could they have painted in color anyway? Wouldn't their
paints have been shades of gray back then?
Dad: Of course, but they turned colors like everything else did in the '30s.
Calvin: So why didn't old black and white photos turn color too?
Dad: Because they were color pictures of black and white, remember?

Happy Holidays junta!

The long rope that'll kill...

2005-04-22T20:20:00.000-07:00

One of the favourite expressions of my 10th standard history teacher (who was extremely good might I add), was that given a long enough rope we as students are more likely to hang ourselves than use it properly than if we were given a short rope. However bad that sounds it is supposed to mean, given enough time (or actually more than enough time) we are more likely to waste it than put it to good use as compared to if we were given less time.Kappeesh?

So that brings us to the present situation. The pressure of the end semester. Basically the exam which makes or breaks your grade. Every other form of evaluation other than an end semester is, if anything, but a trivial warm-up to this defining moment of truth. The reason we put up with boring profs and their boring lectures, the reason we 'attempt' meaningless assignments, the reason we spend a semester attending classes... ostensibly.

So much said, we did have a long time to prepare for these herculean demonic tasks. Atleast 2 weeks say. Which brings us to the relevance of what my history teacher said so long ago. The relevance and the aptness. And probably our ineptness...and definitely our laziness.

Procrastination is a way of life we say. We cannot but take deadlines to their limit we add. Who in the right mind would actually finish the portions for an examination more than a day before the actual date we shout in unison. Ummm....

Enough excuses. Time for action. And thus I must take leave. From blogging, from chatting, from frivolous mailing, from football, from quake, from crosswords, from movies on LAN, from movies not on LAN, from "extra-curricular" activities, from life. For it is time to take the only exams worth taking seriously seriously.Its a promise...(gulp)

The woods are lovely dark and deep
But I have promises to keep
And miles to go before I sleep
And miles to go before I sleep

(My favourite quote; for the millionth time now)

Yours academically and "talk-to-you-later"ively,
The-one-whose-resolutions-are-laughed-upon,
Me

Gloomy? Me? Really? Oh...

2005-04-17T15:01:00.000-07:00

Im hardly a person who gets bogged down by stuff. Im not the guy who generally complains about all the trivial pains in life. Not the crib"-about-everything-"god. Atleast I don't think so.

All that said, I have been feeling rather sad lately.Sad. Hmm... Subdued? I think thats the better word for it. Hardly the same meaning but I think somehow I feel highly emotionless as well. (Strange circumstances to be inventing words...). Something about the last few days you ask? Well Sherlock, twas elementary...

So without going much into ,oh wait, let me try that again. So without going AT ALL into the details, lets just say that the hostel nite was a disaster. :(. I rather it wasnt but whats over is over. I remember sitting on the 6th wing ledge, watching on as the roast was going on thinking about what had gone wrong. I don't remember too much about that night (blocked it subconsciously? chi , I shouldn't put so much pseud :P). Aah.

Getting rather introspective are we Mr Helmet. I guess. I seem to be thinking a lot about what Im doing (and not doing). Trying to look into the future. Trying to make big resolutions. (Sometimes to the chagrin of friends ...). Bah humbug.

And did I mention that my room was attacked by wasps saturday morning? Yes attacked. Hitchcock's The Birds style. Creepy. Which quite irritably implies Ive had to close the windows and my room feels as stuffy as ... as... ? Its as bad as #123 Mandak (Murali's room). :O. Ya I know, that bad.

The week did have its silver linings though. In the form of "A sequence of photographs projected onto a screen with sufficient rapidity as to create the illusion of motion and continuity" : movie. :D. (Jeez da get a life). Actually movies.

Before Sunrise and Before Sunset - 2 amazing movies. Who knew I could be a sucker for romantic movies :P. (to be confirmed shortly). I guess its the realism in these movies which actually was most impressive. And the dialogues , the questions and answers, brilliant. Absolutely. Yes perhaps I should also take a Eurorail pass and generally roam Europe. :D.

Shall We Dance. I expected a somewhat entertaining movie with a bollywood finish. Thankfully I am bad at guessing. Turned out the movie was very entertaining, senti even. Jlo looks amazing. But the fact of the matter is the thing which stood out for me in this movie is the scene when Richard Gere goes upto Susan Sarandon (his wife) and asks for a dance. That and the song in the background - The Book of Love - Peter Gabriel .

Also check this out...

Daydream delusion.
Limousine Eyelash
Oh, baby with your pretty face
Drop a tear in my wineglass
Look at those big eyes
See what you mean to me
Sweet cakes and milkshakes
I am a delusioned angel
I am a fantasy parade.
I want you to know what I think.
Don't want you to guess anymore.
You have no idea where I came from.
We have no idea where we're going.
Launched in life.
Like branches in the river.
Flowing downstream.
Caught in the current.
I'll carry you. You'll carry me.
That's how it could be.
Don't you know me
Don't you know me by now.

(Thats from Before Sunrise)

I feel much better. Maybe I should change the title. Nah, let it be.

Cheers,
Me

Confessions of a dangerous mind

2005-04-11T15:07:00.000-07:00

Late in the night, after quite a serious conversation with one of my friends, unable to go to sleep I start thinking about something. Well, its something some of us (not including yours truly) perhaps think about enough times not to consider it important enough. So...

How many true friends do we have? Strange question. I have never actually thought about this question. My life has always been divided into friends, thank-god-not-friends and soon-will-be-friends. No concept of true friends and untrue friends. Perhaps its time I did start to think about this. Start to realise which of my so called friendships are just ruses, hoaxes, untold hostilities even. Thats the problem with imagining things. Sometimes we go a little overboard. Overreact. And this sort of insecurity can be quite dangerous.Fortunately the sanity (or what remains rather) woke me up from such delusions. Delusions? Hopefully...

But then my natural train of thoughts acting with the contemplation-inducing effects of insomnia (techincally its nonsleepness) led me to an even more perturbing question. How true a friend am I? And on reflection, I realised that I am not a very good friend. I idealise every friendship I have as an one way relationship and in some cases can genuinely, and unfortunately sadly, can add that I have made metaphorical cul-de-sacs of my friendships. Alarming. Disturbing. Disappointing.

And in the lonely companionship and bright darkness of the night, I decide that enough is enough. Too many faces lied to. Too many wrongful admissions "I am always frank da".Too many people whose friendships I dishonour.Too many too manys...

A bit too much. I still cannot say I will turn a Harishchandra overnight. I probably never will. All I can say is that I will try. Try.

Appropriately (?) listening to Boulevard of broken dreams - Green Day

walk a lonely road
The only one that I have ever known
Don't know where it goes
But it's home to me and I walk alone

I walk this empty street
On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams
Where the city sleeps
and I'm the only one and I walk alone

I walk alone
I walk alone

I walk alone
I walk a...

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me
'Til then I walk alone

Ah-ah, Ah-ah, Ah-ah, Aaah-ah,
Ah-ah, Ah-ah, Ah-ah

I'm walking down the line
That divides me somewhere in my mind
On the border line
Of the edge and where I walk alone

Read between the lines
What's fucked up and everything's alright
Check my vital signs
To know I'm still alive and I walk alone

I walk alone
I walk alone

I walk alone
I walk a...

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me
'Til then I walk alone

Ah-ah, Ah-ah, Ah-ah, Aaah-ah
Ah-ah, Ah-ah

I walk alone
I walk a...

I walk this empty street
On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams
Where the city sleeps
And I'm the only one and I walk a...

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me
'Til then I walk alone...

And thus thunk the Helmet.

Relative busyness and Hydrophilia

2005-04-06T04:13:00.000-07:00

There are always two heads to a coin. Two views to an issue. Truth be told there are more than just two views but the build up is much better with two. Damn I lost the buildup. Grrr...Anyways there's the pessimists view and the optimists...

My situation through the eyes of a pessimist would be something like "too much work, hopeless, suicidal" and the like.Ok perhaps that sounded very pessimistic and slightly drunk. But with so many nefariously small activities coupled with larger obligations of a secretarial post, one does feel as if he is balancing the Earth on his shoulders.Atlas-like.

The one-who-seeth-the-cup-half-full will say I am leading a life of bliss. Utopian even. Theres seems to almost no work. With the new Lit Sec elected, all responsibilities seems to have disappeared (read redirected). A room in the 4th wing. Can life get any more peaceful? I mean really...this is crazy even for a Comp Sc stud...:P.

But I guess the truth of the matter is Im just too laidback to get things done systematically. Things like buying toothpaste seem to take forever. So perhaps instead of cribbing so much, I should just get a To-do-list and be more methodical. (Hehe. Its the thought that counts right?)

So anyways being relatively busy can be difficult. But one thing that is an excellent cure to any such cribworthy thought was the precipitation of water that befell the wonderful city of Chennai rather unexpectedly for a couple of days.

Rain. I dont know when my fascination with rain started. Ever since I can remember I have loved watching the drops of water falling from the ominously black clouds and smelling that distinctive and addictive wet sand smell. But for a long time I always harboured a special wish to get wet in the rain.

Maybe its that I never did it for so long or the inexplicable feeling that you get when you get drenched , but nowadays whenever it rains, even drizzles, I make it a point to take a walk and embrace the wonderful Act of God .:P.

People love the rain for myriad reasons.(I really cant get people who hate the rain...). But if there is someone who has never enjoyed a walk in the rain, baselessly or otherwise, all I can say is just try it. Its an awesome feeling. It will be beautiful. It always is.

Arigato and Sayonara,
Evangelist of the Rain God,
Me

Listening to Comfortably Numb

And then it ended

2005-04-02T04:28:00.000-08:00

Roughly a month ago, the protagonist of this most wonderful blog made a resolution never to touch any form of alcohol. Initially the resolution was meant to last forever but circumstances and scoffing friends and a hopeless will later the resolution ended up lasting only for a month. Which is to say yesterday was really fun ;).

There was so much hype about Zaras. Supposed to be awesome and all...So obviously when we made a plan to go there on saturday we were all very excited. But then saturdays are supposed to be very busy and the plan was quite abruptly shifted to friday night. Truth be told almost all of us (today us refers to Dasan, Kamesh, Metro, Senti and me) were doing something or the other when the plan was chalked up. I had a 4-a-side footer match (hurrah for me I got a hattrick vs some freshie team who were playing for the first time). Senti was conducting the matches. Metro was off to Adyar to repair his cell and Dasan was ummm... out. So I hadnt even imagined that it could happen.But it did.

When we made up the plan there was one problem. Dasan wasnt wearing shoes. So we had to actually take him some arbit shoes(of Chottus) which he would wear just before he entered. And the auto ride in which we went to the place was memorable. A drunk auto driver. Man, that guy went on about stuff. About Chandramukhi, about Danush and Rajini, about how he was the head of Shakeela fan club (!?!) and other really insane stuff. I was glad we reached the place in one piece coz for most of the journey his hands were flying wildly in the air trying to gesticulate something or the other. As all this was happening I also successfully made a small bakra out of Das. (btw Belated Happy April Fools Day).

So anyways Zaras was awesome. The ambience, the service, the people. Everything. The live music :P. Just awesome. Most of us went for the martini first up. The Bond experience. I really dont know whether it was shaken or stirred. And on the advice of the more experienced, we all had the pepper vodka shot which was terrific. Senti and I had two while Metro and Kamesh experimented with a tequilla shot. Supposedly quite strong.And we actually smoked some twenty cigarettes between us. And yes , none of us smoke...:P. Anyways, at the end of the day when the bill came up and we all checked and rechecked the 3000 odd bill, we realised we didnt have so much cash on us :O. Thankfully Metro had a debit card which was a relief. We still have to pay up to him though...:D.

And when we got to the insti, we walked back the whole distance to the hostels. Walked? Yeah you could call it that. There were times when Metro and Kamesh suddenly stopped to do pushups, when I started running really wildly, when Metro and I hugged trees et al. I cant remember much after this though but I did wake up at ~6 in Metros room alongside Senti.

But it was fun...all fun.

Sometimes I wonder if it is worth it. Sometimes when my less indulgant friends look at me as if Im mad. Hmmm... sometimes I wonder...

On that highly pschoanalytical note I bid adieu...

PS: A bit of wisdom learnt yesterday... Vodka means "Little Water". Just thought it worth mentioning...

PPS: New method to flaunt the music I listen to:
*drums*

Currently hooked to Wish you were here - Pink Floyd

*cough*not very impressive "new method"*cough*

Confused

2005-03-24T14:22:00.000-08:00

There are so many things one can be confused about.Even the small things.The so-called trivial things. The decision to take tea or coffee, black shirt or white shirt, bunking E slot or D slot.:D. The last thing is more indecision to do both but some confusion nonetheless.

Then there is the confusion about the "bigger" things in life. The choices which you take. That which maketh the man. Incidentally (and thankfully) I wasnt in the least bit confused when in school about which stream to follow and which college to end up in. Science seemed the natural way (now I wonder why). IIT seemed the next logical step (this is one decision I am happy about :D ). But now that I discover all the choices that were there, I am slightly disappointed at my ignorance. Not that it would have affected where I am, but then disappointed anyways.

Nowadays I am constantly being bombarded by the red pill and the blue pill phenamenon (refer Matrix ob ;) ). I have to make a conscious choice between two things , both with its pros and cons, and the worst part is, as one problem is solved the whole thing seems to be cascading. Like that monster which grew into two monsters every time someone cut it into two. Exponential order. Thats the complexity. But lately I have just decided to chill and take the easy way out. The seemingly "less-work-involved" path instead of the oft-beaten track. Trying hard to make sure I dont have to put in much work. (Oxymoronish?)

But then circumstances got me thinking. About stuff. About my future ( :O yes yes even I , for a fleeting moment of my existence, thought about the possibilites of where my life is heading instead of just living for the moment and taking life as it comes).

So finally the important stuff. (The stuff Shyamnath will kill to know :P) :

Am I going to app? Am I going to CAT? Am I going for a job?

The truth is, Im still undecided. Much as I am about the other binary problems which lay before me. Unfortunately, steps need to be taken well in advance for achieving ones goals.He who fails to plan will not plan to fail but will.

And thus we have a hopeless Helmet ever reflecting on what to do , highly distracted and ready to just ask someone (someone qualified enough) for some advice on what to do and do it.No questions asked. But the thing is the only person who I know qualified enough to answer me will tell me things I dont want to listen.Dont want to do. And thus back to square one.Confused.

Confused but clear enough to give reviews of two brilliant movies.

The Graduate:

The first cassette of Simon and Garfunkel I had , had the words "the Graduate" in the front. Ever since Ive been trying to see the film, fuelled by rumours of its storyline. And see it I did. And it was awesome. The story, the acting, the movie. Granted its a strange story. But brilliant acting. And the background score. S&G. Need I say more....

Spanglish:

Now I didnt know anything about this movie when I started watching. Didnt even know Adam Sandler was acting. But Ill tell you one thing. A movie is good if you think about the movie even after its over, but its great if you're still thinking about it the next day. And this is one great movie. I cant lay my finger on one specific characteristic but I felt the movie was amazing as a whole.

Ahhhh only 2 movies in the past 4 days. Either I am getting choosy or the endless source is endless no more...

Of Moviethons and a beach trip

2005-03-20T11:46:00.000-08:00

(Sleisha long post ~Not bofish but long nonetheless)

Practically life has hit a new nadir with levels of joblessness reaching unsurmountable depths. Life can now be sustained with just movies, football and quake.And when I say movies, I mean a lot. In fact enough to write a post about. Alas I have more.;).In brief:

Movies, Movies everywhere (and not all we should see)

Friday:

Ray - Amazing movie.Take a bow Jamie Foxx. Might I add, excellent company for the movie :).

Finding Neverland - Double in Satyam after a long time.Dasan and I wanted to see it so badly... (in spite of the fact that he looked so crashy). A brilliant movie. I thought it was awesome. The end actually gave me goose bumps (in a good way).

Saturday:

Meet the Fockers - I was thinking of watching this in Satyam until I realised everyone, I mean EVERYONE, had already seen it. And yes I am now fockerised. Somehow feel the first one was funnier? Curse of the sequels?

Wet Hot American Summer - Dasan's mistake #1.Claims he scrolled through it and found it good. Some crap spoof movie. I should have crashed instead of watching it.Yawnnn!!!!

Alexander - Apparently this epic movie (imdb reports 179 minutes) was shortened to a measly 1:45 hours by someone .We got to see their examples of bad editing and of course, drunk-monkey-operating. (should get this term patented/trademarked/copyrighted)

Sunday:

8 mile - Eminem's story was captured amazingly (running out of adjectives). I thought the film was very entertaining and a must-see for anyone who appreciates his songs.

Astronauts wife -Dasan's mistake #2 .All I can say is, very boring and vague.Disinteresting even.

Beach trip

One of us quipped friday night that we should go to the beach. Another added, it would be wonderful to see the sunrise. And all of us agreed, saturday morning would be ideal for it.(All of us is some 6 of us.:D) And thus, it was proposed that we would wake at ~5 and cycle to the beach to see the sunrise.

As expected, all of us crashed and saturday went "sunrise-at-the-beach"less.

Then Saturday night, the idea is once again raised and this time we are prepared. Thota puts nightout and wakes up junta. Thus that which sounded improbable was done. We were awake (almost) and cycling to the beach.

And the beach was breathtaking. Im not much of a nature-describer, but lets just say its a sight worth getting up at 5 for. The reddish-orangish sun rose through the scarce clouds that enveloped its intial moments and as it rose, the golden rays of light that sparkled on the rushing waves made a mental picture that will remain etched in my mind forever. Brilliant.

Yeah, we made fools of ourselves pushing each other in the water and were practically soaked head to toe and moving barrels of salty water by the time we decided to cycle back. But the experience was amazing and we have tentatively decided to try this every week (*cough*nicest try*cough*).

Beautiful.

Song for the asking ;)

U2 is one of the those bands who have stood the test of time. And one of those bands who have impressed me throughout my short life of (gulp) 20 years. I never ever imagined I could one day quantify my age in terms of something that sounds like a term from a hostory book - "2 decades". Anyways, irrespective their most amazing song is a somewhat recent one, and one which has decided to stick to my playlist for some time now - The Hands that Built America.

Last saw your face
In a watercolored sky
As sea birds argue A long goodbye
I took your kiss
On the spray of a new lined star
You gotta live in your dreams
Don't make them so hard

Of all of the promises
Is this one we can keep
Of all of the dreams
Is this one still out of reach

And finally some links (after a loong time)

One for the bored enough to read - Taj Mahal

One for the bored enough to see - Idiot

.

Cursed....!?!

2005-03-17T20:56:00.000-08:00

Big Fish was a nice movie.The protagonist in the movie is known for telling tall tales which finally turn out to be true.Nice movie.Somewhat related to what I have in mind...

Ive come to realise that I tend to exaggerate when I speak.Sometimes I tend to stretch stories a bit just to make things interesting. I guess most of my friends know that (if they don't , sheesh). And the thing is, most of the times I think its involuntary. And thus my rather well-thought-out conclusion : Its a family curse.

My family sure does exaggerate a lot. "Once so-and-so got a cold and ate something and he remained afflicted for 5 years " or "So-and-so eats 20 chappatis daily" or "X never wastes any time because he has to study; he is even fed food so that he doesnt waste time eating "...and so on.(The last one is debatably true. X is an obivous family member ;) ).

I actually dont mind stretching the truth so as to spice things up. As long as nothing ill comes out of it. It can be fun. But its the fact that I do it without realising it (and regretting doing it later) is what pains me.

Anyways back to reality.Life has been hectic last week (or so I tell myself). One of my worst movie experiences in Satyam (Shubham actually) when I went to see Aviator with Praveen and Priyankar. Probably a monkey was operating , a drunk monkey maybe, because there was utter confusion. There were times when the audio and video decided to appear only without the other; there were times when the screen was cut in two with the lower half on top and the upper half below.Leonardo was funny with his hair below his neck...X-(. And the interval sign was shown and just as people got up to refresh themselves, the drunk monkey operator decided to continue the movie. A good 5-10 minutes later he stopped for an ad-hoc interval and when the movie resumed we were treated to some repeated scenes. #$@$@%#!@#@%. Even seeing Incredibles in OAT for the third time was more enjoyable.

Then there was fete. Let us pass that-which-we-do-not-want-to-talk-much-about and just say that it was fun. Fruitless yet fun. Overall fete was decent. The highlight of fete was probably a fight between LED and the Harami gumbal ( ? I think).At one point , we wanted to join in (a la Fight Club) but it was resolved by then. And as fete finished, I realised I had to do an assignment which I successfully did by 4 am only to be told by the prof next day that the deadline was extended to friday.How great thou are Brother Murphy...

Then a flurry of assignments, a midsem and a quiz later, here I am. Alas a rare breed of IITians whose quizzes are over (yes it started and ended today) (and yes we Comp Sc studs are indeed the most jobless guys irrespective of what others may say).

Yesterdy the power was out for some time and most of us landed up on top of the mess and it was awesome.Cloudless , regrettable, though the stars illuminating the sky was overwhelming.Enough said about it already.

"There is so much beauty in this world" - American Beauty.

There is indeed so much beauty in our campus ... the sky, the trees, the deer, (anything nonhuman :D), BSB, ESB...
But then I exaggerate too much.

Is it just me?

2005-03-09T15:33:00.000-08:00

Is it just me or is my life getting wierd all of a sudden? Wierd in a nice way. Certain enigmatic events which trigger various thoughts and views on the confusing sojourn that is life...

So we are sitting in the impressive ground that is Sangam audiencing a 9-a-side cricket side and junta are exercising their unwritten law of using expletives against ,usually, the opponent team in titanic amounts.And in all languages known to man.Take our man L2 for instance. He was cursing everyone, especially the wicketkeeper of the Msc team, in hindi, english, tamil and gult. He could have even tried mallu except for lack of someone well versed in the curse words of mallu. There were even some Saras junta who being the epitome of joblessness that fourth years are, came out to generally shout various highly descriptive 'colourful' words , even combining words of 2 languages at one point. So as all this was going on, suddenly someone in the opposing team decides they have had enough and starts running at us armed with one of the stumps. It doesnt take long for all of them to join in and single one of us out. Who ? L2 obviously :). They encircle poor L2 and impress him with their vocabulary. L2 did get out of the thing unscathed though rumours abound that he lost a slipper while fleeing the scene.And that he may return to Sangam only next year..:D

So I was sitting in class today roughly 2 0'clock. It was Software Engineering class. This is one of the most painful courses for many a reason. One of them being that the only time he takes attendence is when I dont attend it. And another is that he tends to take really really boring stuff when you dont feel sleepy and when you do feel ready to crash, he usually ends up digressing from the course and talking about anything like JEE and the quality of Saarang, or so I hear. So today I actually wasnt feeling like crashing having got up at ~11:30 and having missed all of the morning classes. (" Grand Slam :missing all 4 morning hours ";achieved by atleast 4 people today, all of whom sat up til 3:30am to see the football matches ;) ) SO he is talking something about the MCP design pattern or some other combination of letters while I try to find other things to do. Like imagining what I would do if I decided to just travel for three months. (Personally I would like to visit some "exotic" place like Spain though why Spain I am so unable to answer. ) After much day dreaming , I decide I shall doodle for some time. I start drawing stars in my book and then try to draw stars within stars and recursively keep sketching. Suddenly the class is very quiet and I look up to the prof looking at me and smiling. I look at him and his eyes dart at my book and my face. I force a smile and try to figure out whats going on in the class so that I can try to frame some answer if he were to pose me a question. (Actually I had NO idea what was going on...) Thankfully he decides not to do anything like that and rather gives a lecture on the ever-decreasing attention span of the current generation and just before continuing the class, sports a smile which almost implied I'll-take-care-of-you-when-grading-you-,-you-stupid-idiots. Ouch...

And finally my latest only-song-I-listen-to : IIT Life by Adil,Riaz,Shoubik,Parag. The song is supposedly by IIT Kanpur students. So professional they sound... The song is really catchy but its the lyrics that are awesome because they are so true. You can relate to every word. Its what really happens. Really good...

Din bar kam, nahi aaram...
Kohi yeh bathaye , kahan jahe...

Speaking of grand slams I think I may repeat the same thing today (Thursday) unless I find some enthu to crash now. Where I get the strange enthu to blog at 5 in the morning I can never understand...is it just me?

PS: Today in this post refers to Wednesday unless otherwise specified.

PPS: A short word on the recent elections. Thank God for the decent results...

A wish upon a shooting star

2005-03-04T23:46:00.000-08:00

Have you ever just seen the stars? Not a momentary glance.I mean seen them. In all their glory. The twinkling brilliant points in the endless bluish-black night sky. And the clouds meandering through resulting in a heavenly game of hide-and-seek. Lying on your back, looking up at the sky, friends by your side, star gazing.I tell you, you dont need no booze to get high. The very sight of the star-studded night can do that.Believe you me.

And as we lay on the top of the mess, between the 3rd and 4th wings, we started describing what we could make out of the ambling clouds. There were dragons, elephants and fighting men amongst other things. Sketches on the vast expanse of space.

And time passed by ...

Suddenly we saw what we thought was either a meteorite or a falling satellite. Being the optimistic souls that we are, we decided to consider the third option ie it was a shooting star.(It was going too fast to be one but hey who's stopping us from imagining what we want to imagine?). And then we all wished on the shooting star. And then for some time, silence.Not the unnerving kind. More the serene and comfortable kind.

There are some places which makes you feel calm irrespective of the mood you're in and the troubles you're facing. For each their own. Their place of solace. Their place of tranquility. For me it is probably the balcony which is the top of our mess. In the night. And a clear sky.

(takes a deep breath and clears his head)

Saw the movies Almost famous and Closer. Almost famous was very entertaining because like any good film there was a character we want to be and (probably more importantly) a person we'd like to love (Kate Hudson ;) ). Rather late to be seeing the film, but then there are so many movies and only one of me. :) .

Closer was well, different. Excellent but different. There were certain elements of that film which made it so good that I have to say this is a must-see. The story involved but four characters (Natalie Portman :drools: ) and can best be described as a controversial one in a conservative society as ours but one which will gel well with us younger generation crowd.( Such a vivid description without revealing any part of the story. *phew*. ) And the song. The song. "Blower's Daugther" by Damien Rice is hardly an impressive name. But ever since I saw the movie and heard the song, I havent listened to anything else. (These short addictive bouts are getting to be annoying. But til it lasts, you just have to listen to that one song.)

And so it is
Just like you said it would be
Life goes easy on me
Most of the time
And so it is
The shorter story
No love, no glory
No hero in her sky

I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes...

And so it is
Just like you said it should be
We'll both forget the breeze
Most of the time
And so it is
The colder water
The blower's daughter
The pupil in denial

I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes off of you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes off you
I can't take my eyes...

Did I say that I loathe you?
Did I say that I want to
Leave it all behind?

I can't take my mind off of you
I can't take my mind off you
I can't take my mind off of you
I can't take my mind off you
I can't take my mind off you
I can't take my mind...
My mind...my mind...
'Til I find somebody new

Listen to the song. Though I guess you have to see the movie to really connect with the song.And I reiterate : must-see.

And life goes on...

2005-03-03T00:05:00.000-08:00

Paraphrasing the week gone by...

Monday :

College. I attend every class and I finish an assignment in 15 minutes. Election fever begins to permeate the air as candidates turn in their manifestos. Played footer after forever. Helped KG around Namrad. (Vote for the K and the G :D ).

An interesting and mammoth chat-session in Thota's room til 3 am spanning myriad topics...

Tuesday :

Make a serious decision never to touch booze again. Responses of people to the above news include "Nice try", *scoff* , all forms of irritating laughter and any other synonymous actions which made me feel highly demoralised. Finally convinced people I meant it. Some people still laughed.

Later decided to see, with high expectations , Fight Club which didnt fail to disappoint. Another long talk in the new common room of 4th wing, #249 as we exchange views on the ongoing "cleanest-elections-ever" and music and everything under the sun. Kicked the football around at ~2 in the quadrangle for some half an hour.

Wednesday :

Saw the movie Sideways which I was quite impressed by. Thought the acting was excellent and the story sublime. Perhaps not Oscar worthy, but was good nonetheless.Made yet another serious decision, this time to cut my long beautiful black hair. Such an arbitrary decision and one I feel I shouldnt have taken now. Alas in the spirit of the moment I act upon the urge and get my hair cut. Look like a coconut and feel like a shaved monkey...sorry for getting carried away with the similies...

Thursday :

Attended my pass-fail course and the professor jumped in surprise.His words (or something to the same effect)
Prof: Oh why have you come?
Me : (looking around) The other 2 havent come (here referring to the other two btechs in my class)
Prof: Oh. (turning to the class) These guys just make sure theres some btech presence in class... (back to me) I hope you know that in order to clear this course ,which is a pass-fail for you, you have to actually pass.
Me : Yes.

PS : The author of this post initially wrote a portion about the "cleanest-elections-ever" trying as hard as possible not to mention any names. However directly or indirectly antagonising people is hardly the intent of yours truly and so I decided to remove the same. At this point I would like to express my utmost nausea and disgust at the way the elections are going on in the insti and hope the results wont just increase it.

PPS : I am ruing the two serious decisions that I took during the past week. The first one because I myself am starting to grow skeptical of it and the second because ,well, because I cut my hair. :(( .

(consoles himself) It will grow back.It will grow back.

PPPS : Im quite sure it should be PPS and not PSS but if someone feels otherwise, please feel free to correct me.

Title

2005-02-27T09:14:00.000-08:00

Yes the fact that the title of this post is Title is actually a bit of humour.And for want of a better title.

Situation:Helmet has been thinking for some time. He usually thinks about nothing in particular but his train of thoughts usually end up with something (aha). And what follows is the stuff you read in his posts. Wait, why this explanation? Because he thinks he has nothing to write about.Hmmm....

There are some people who are so predictable.They never surprise you.Then there are some people who surprise you sometimes.They behave in a strange way, good or bad which you find atypical of them.And then there are some people who surprise you always...

Predictable people I know in large numbers. The kind of people who arent necessarily not interesting (double negation funda; reread) , but just that you can count on them doing something with a really high probability.Good people to have as lab partners…

The people who surprise you always are a select breed. Briefly the geniuses and the bulbgods. What I mean by surprise isnt like what-the-fuck kind of surprise. Not always anyways. It could be a more subtle surprise. Yeah-I-knew-he-is-a-pseud-stud kind of surprise. I guess its a very difficult thing to explain (and/or my vocabulary is very limited...). I can probably say I know a handful of such characters. NRP for one.

And last but not the least, those who surprise you sometimes. Surprisingly I am finding out that a few friends of mine belong to this category.That or I am a really bad judge of character. People who I used to associate with being of one type, turning out to be the other type.(Yeah I am so full of information ). L2 ,for one, hardly looks like a IMO-TC guy.:D. I heard he recently cracked a maths quiz somewhere. Sad he ended up in elec.

Anyways, this reasoning is a result of one more person of the last category who is scaring the shit out of me.As in, his behaviour is so unlike him that it is scary.Before you reach unwarrented conclusions after observing the word 'he' and deciding to let your imagination run wild, let me tell you who he is.That person is me.

Lately I have been changed so much that I can hardly recognise myself anymore.Ok ok...that was too much, but its true I have been changing.Evolving? Debatable. But changing.

When I sometimes think back on my life, I was so easy to understand.The stereotypical student who spent a lot of time seeing TV and some time in acadrelated stuff. Now I cant say I am a stereotypical anything. Yeah its nice, that feeling. Knowing you cant be called a "that-kind-of" guy. Although someone recently called me a cartoon character which I dont seem to like.Grrrr.

Actually I think change is better. Personally, I could never live a morbidly monotonous life doing the same thing day in and day out. I need some change to keep my mind active. Something. Anything.

Enough of psychological crap. Im trying too much to psychoanalyse everything. Should learn to accept things as they are.

And about the incident which led me to this thinking...Dasan will put up a post soon I think.

Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away
Now it looks as though they’re here to stay
Oh, I believe in yesterday.

I know the words arent in any way applicable to this post.But I just liked the words. This song is playing in the back when I write the post. Although I do find it unbelievably apt for last semester and all the assignments which we fell prey to in the end...And perhaps it could be applicable to this semester to...:P.

Suddenly, I’m not half the man I used to be,
There’s a shadow hanging over me.
Oh, yesterday came suddenly.

Why she had to go I don’t know she woldn’t say.
I said something wrong, now I long for yesterday

Yesterday, love was such an easy game to play.
Now I need a place to hide away.
Oh, I believe in yesterday.

Mm mm mm mm mm.

PS: Does anyone else think I have screwed up the font types in this post?Somehow they seem to be different at different points in the post...

Ergo Ego

2005-02-23T04:51:00.000-08:00

This post is being written rather hastily due to one specific reason. I shall reveal the same shortly.

Sometimes when I sit in class I come up with rather amusing questions.Like say, how much time would it take to rocket jump from the bottom of the LHC to the 2nd floor or why some people write the letter 'o' clockwise while others go counterclockwise or is there any optimal solution to the tic-tac-toe problem. But once in a way, I also come up with a profound question.One which is worthy of much reflection and discussion.

So a few days back, I was sitting in class, when I asked myself "How did ego originate?". The concept of doing something to satisfy one's ego is quite common . But was is the basis for this? Why does man need an ego? What does ego do to elevate a person? Corrollarily, how does one know what "satisfies" one's ego and what "dissatisfies" it?

For the record, I was in no altered state while thinking the above. Nor am I an intellectual capable of making great psychoanalytical statements. All I can say is sometimes things just happen. No reason required.

Having said so much, I must explain the haste in writing this post. A few days ago, I approached one of the "great" thinkers of Narmad ( interpret as you must), EP and asked him the question. He looked at me quizzingly and said, "We've farted so much but we have never broached this topic.Interesting ... ".Or something to that effect. And today, he said he'd rather put a post on his blog than answer me in person.

So , being one whose ego has to be satisfied constantly, I find it of utmost significance to put this post before EP. Well, what do you know, seems the reason fits quite well with the post. :D.

So anyways.EGO.Hmm. I always seem to associate the same with a balloon.Perhaps drawing a parallel to the inflation or deflation of the same. Quite a silly idea now that I think about it...

Sadly I have not found a convincing answer to my questions.As I said, the post was just put up to prove a point.Bah humbug...

I have had many theories put forth to me, significant ones being from ED and PTM.However perhaps because I am unable to comprehend their answers and/or I think its crap , I refrain from mentioning the same. However, if someone is willing to put forth a convincing enough hypothesis I would be very grateful.Anyone except EP that is...

Talking about Ego, I havent slept much in the last 3 days.(I know there is no connection between the two, but how else can I include the above info ;) ).One day I stay up to see When Harry Met Sally.The reason I saw the same is to counteract the bitter feeling that A Prelude to a Kiss left me with.And I didnt want the last Meg movie I saw to be a potential Top 10 Shadiest movie.Hence. And yesterday, had to stay up for the Real match. And today, will have to stay up for the ManU match. Yeah pack the quizzes.(gulp).

The above para was added just to show off that I have been sleeping late. There was no neccessity for me to have included this in this post.But since I have already included it, I rather let it remain.

The things I do to satisfy my ego...sheesh.

Slip Slidin' Away

2005-02-19T21:52:00.000-08:00

There are times in your life when you wake up , still lieing down on the bed, and think about things. Things that have been ,things that are to come. The days gone by and the days to come.

So today I woke up in such a state.And I thought to myself "Shit,life is awesome." At almost the same moment a thought struck me. "When was it that I thought Ill start studying? Hmm 18th? Thats ...ahhh..2 days AGO? .....And wasnt there some assignment Shyamnath has been paining me about? " I almost jump out of bed. The truth is I am very prone to such psyche-attacks. Though they last but a hour at most (after which Im back to doing something else), I start planning vigorously .What to do , when to do, how to do. Needless to say, nothing falls in place.But the planning keeps me more at peace and sane.More or less.

So more about my nefarious activities since Friday. Remarkably , I attended all classes on Friday including the Pass/Fail course which I hadnt attended for a week. (The prof was shocked on seeing me :P ). The evening was awesome with Me and Dasan taking a trip to Bikes & Barrels. We had excellent company of course :D. Ergo friday was also the day that two resolutions of mine were unceremoniously broken. Ah, you win some, you lose some. But I need to mention that the only thing I got high on was the elevator. :D. Thats what I keep telling myself...

Saturday was less eventful.My afternoon was consumed by "Million Dollar baby".Brilliant movie. Didnt impress me much in the beginning (perhaps I was a lil bit sleepy) but I thought it ended very well. And at around this time, we lost power for quite a while. An ideal time to chat* around with friends (*- I'm deliberately trying to avoid IITian lingo: substitute the right words if you think I should do otherwise). Lol @ Senti - 3000 children killer.

Evening involved football and football and what else...uhhhh... yeah, football. 3 hours we played the game of the Gods. That too after a hiatus of almost a week.And after all that football, there was no way we were going to eat in the mess.Hence a trip to See Rock.Delightful meal and conversations. Lol @ Point5's Underwater Meditation. Seriously our seniors are one interesting (and slightly bulbax) set of junta.

After food, we all ended up in the common room : time for ManU and Real matches. Decent matches . ManU deserved to win (and won) and Real deserved to lose (and lost).

By the time the matches were done, it was quite late ~2ish.And most junta packed (except maybe Dasan who crashed almost from the start of the first match). But me and Thota remained. Nostalgic as the both of us were, we decided to see the end of a extremely shady and slightly disturbing movie ,for you see before the introduction of LAN in the insti, staying up late in the common room seeing extremely shady and slightly disturbing movies was a daily thing for us. And the movie didnt disappoint.:D.

So its finally sunday.As I said, I woke up all psyched and planning to complete an assignment before 11 and finish mugging before lunch.Yeah right.And pigs can fly.

God only knows
God makes his plan
The information's unavailable
To the mortal man
We work our jobs
Collect our pay
Believe we're gliding down the highway
When in fact we're slip slidin' away

This is me now, that is me then

2005-02-16T20:02:00.000-08:00

I always thought my english was decent.Arre what the hell, I always thought my english was good.Pseud.:P.I know using large words often at wrong times to convey the wrong meaning is hardly impressive but then I just always thought.But times are fast changing and with it so is my control over the language.

Take for instance a conversation with Zulu.Somewhere down the line I make the arbit statement , "Ya da he is a black horse".!!!!.Worsht.Zulu smiles and replies "Dark horse".I look at him and realise the unbelievable words which had emerged from my mouth.

And I knew I had reached the nadir of my english-speaking-life when I sat down to write an IP.Fete IP.Narmad junta can later go and check this one out.:P.BAsically there was a line I was trying to complete, something about not having enough time.So it went something like "... but I think we are cutting it ...".I bulbed.I forgot the usage "cutting it fine".I thought of all the adjecties that could come there.Thick? Hard ? Thin? I finally wrote thin and reread it to realise it didnt sound right.So I in a fit of rage i cut it out and wrote some other equally shady line.

Anyways , paying some respect to the ideal of sticking to titles, I shall explain the veracity of the same.So I went home Wednesday and chanced upon this old essay I had written.On reading the same, I realised that I had proof that my linguistic abilities had indeed diminished (which is to say that the essay was very good).Without batting an eyelid I shall include the essay, more like a story, for I really think its high time something worth reading is put up.

"I am going to the shandy, Amma", Souri called from the hall to his mother, Kamakshi in this kitchen. As she came out and saw her tall, handsome, sixteen year old son getting into the bllock cart she felt a surge of pride.

Her husband, Swaminatha Aiyar was sitting on the swing in the courtyard. "What has come over this boy ?", he said, "till two weeks ago , we had to coax him to go to the shandy. Now he leaves so early. ""It is age ," came the voice of her mother-in-law , Visalam, sitting and punding betel leaves on the floor, "he may want to meet his freinds there".

Little did they know the true reason for Souri's new found eagerness. It was the girl in a velvet pavadai who came to the shandy every week with her brother.When he had first seen her, he had asked his best friend Venkuttu eho she was. Venkuttu explained that she was the eldest daughter of the engineer's family, which had recently moved into their street.He had also said that the family was a very fashionable but respectable Brahmin one.The girl, whose name was Savithri, was eleven years old and had studied upto the fifth standard.

Souri's heart stopped and he decided that this was the girl he was going to marry .After all, what did he lack? .He was the son of a reasonable wealthy Brahmin family who ran the only vegetarian restaurant in that area.He had gone to school and passed his intermediate - no less. He was dark, tall and well-built and was particularly proud of his ceremonial tuft of hair or kudumi that he carefully tended.

After two or three weeks of hesitation, he fially managed to blurt out his heart to his grandmother. His grandmother tactfully told his father. The neighbourhood matchmaker was called and told of the issue.Souri's jathakam was dusted and taken out and the matchmaker was sent on a visit to the engineer's house to get Savithri's horoscope.

The matchmaker was successful in getting the horoscope and Souri was indeed happy when he heard that the horoscopes matched.He thought that his path was clear.But it was not to be. The matchmaker returned with a long face. It seemed that the girl's family would only consider a boy who was studying to be a graduate. Further, they were obstinate that the boy should cut off his kudumi and have neatly cropped hair in the Western style.

Souri's father suspected there were just excuses, because though they felt the were both Brahmins ,they were considered of lower status for he ran a hotel. Most educated Brahmins thought this to be an unsuitable profession for the upper caste. "Cut off the kudumi indeed! Who do they think they are ?" , Sauri's grandmother said , "This girl is not for our boy! ".

But Souri continued to dream , unmindless of this rejection. In ten days, he went to his father and started a conversation. "Kunju mama is going back to Madras. Let me also go with him to Madras." His father was surprised ; Kunju mama was Souri's uncle who was a lecturer in a college in Madras.

"I want to go with him and get admission for a degree course in Physics.He says that I can stay with his family and study. "His father's surprise increased. His son had earlier shown no inclination to go away to Madras for further education. He was also secretly pleased. But not showing his happiness, he said gruffly "Do what you want to do. If you want money for the journey and the fees, get it from the kanakupillai."

Ans so, Sauri took his elders' blessings and set off with his uncle for Madras, a journey of which took seven days, part of it being by train and part of it by bullock cart.Soon he got admission in the degree course and paid his fees. As college was due to open only a month later, he rushed all the way back to his home town to announce this news to Savithri's family and press his cse again.

His family was overjoyed to see him back. After he had bathed and was about to start his lunch, his mother gently broached the topic. "You know, the engineer's house ... "Looking up eagerly, Souri said ,"What is it ,mother? - I saw that the front of their house was beautifully decorated with a ceremonial Kolam".

"It is that girl Savithri's nischayathartham this evening, " she said.Sauri felt as though his world had collapsed.

Souri's heart fell as the other details fell in place. The bridegrom was the son of the headmaster of the town's high school. He was also studying for his degree at Madras.Souri knew where they lived, which was two streets away from his own.

He thought very hard. he knew the bridegroom's party would be leaving for the wedding in a few hours time.He tied up his tuft and purposefully strode out.

It was later in the afternoon , the mnefolk had just had their lunch when they heard a call from the outside. It was the matchmaker - "Is anyone home ? ", he called rushing in as he called out. He excitedly explained to Souri's father that Savithri's wedding had been suddenly called off since the bridegroom's party had seen an ill omen as they were just leaving their house. Her family was desperate now as all the wedding arrangements had been made.The appalams had been dried in the sun and 108 of each type of batchanams as required by tradition, had already been prepared.They would not last for more than a week! So, they had asked the matchmaker to find out if Souri's family would still like to finalise the alliance. In the ensuing confusion, Souri's grandmother quietly enquired with broker what the ill omen that appeared before the earlier bridegroom's family.

"Oh that! It was a single Brahmin youth with his kudumi all tied up - a really inauspicious sight".

To Souri, it was a dream come true.The prized kudimi was cut off , the marriage was finalised and solemnised in the next week as planned.

You may wonder why this story interests me so much. First of all, it is fascinating to know that such customs prevailed in our South Indian community seventy to eighty years ago. It is also interesting to see tht though some changes have been there, many of the features like arranged marriages, horoscopes, superstitions still remain part of our culture. The other unchanging feature seen all over the world from time immemorial seems to be the foolhardy devotion of young men in love.

The second reason is that Sourirajan and Savithri lived together for nearly sixty years before his death on 1983. They had three daughters , one of whom is my maternal grandmother. Yes, this is the oft repeated story of how my greatgrandparents got married. Even now, when my ninety year old greatgrandmother tells us the story, she says "I have to thank the Brahmin who appeared before the bridegroom's party with his kudumi of hair - otherwise I would not have had such a happy life." I always see a twinkle in her eye.

Late nights

2005-02-12T13:33:00.000-08:00

My friend Neo recently wrote a nice post on the beauty of the night.I have to agree.Maybe I ain't as nocturnal as say Neo or Thota but I am atleast sleisha nocturnal.And the night is beautiful.Serene and thought-inspiring.Inspiring enough to write a post anyways.

All non quake junta may skip upto the next italics comment.The following paras deal with quake fundaes and unless you're so jobless that you'd read anything to pass your time or you're so impressed by my writing that you're you'll enjoy it (a guy can try can't he :P) or maybe both, I suggest you do the sensible thing and pack it.

So Helmet had a sudden enthu to prove a point to all his fellow quakers.It is a well-known fact that yours truly isnt a quake stud or anywhere near that for that matter.But he tried anyways.Defrag - sjt2. Something Im sure I would have not been able to do last sem.And after 2 hours of fight from 2-4 on friday, he did it.And that too in 7.7 seconds.Machi so happy was I.I tried to improve it but in vain.Anyways something in quake to be happy about if not proud.

But the two days of defrag has its consequences.The fingers at the end of the hand (fuck I just realised why finger calls himself digitus!) are so fucking screwed that it takes a while to get adjusted to a keyboard or even your cell phone for that matter.Anyways I think defrag enthu is no more.So its back to good old Duelling Keeps and Camping Grounds for Helmet.See you soon quake junta (if you havent already seen me by the time you read this).

Now would be a good time for you to contemplate the reason you're reading this blog.Ok so Im probably done with the quake stuff and its mostly some other boring shit from here.So why do you read ? Yes think about it.And when you know why, dont tell me.I rather think its because of my writing and not some other reason which I cant interpret to be in some way egotistical to me.Thanks.

As the quizzes approach, the junta start doing one thing and one thing alone.No No not mugging. Procrastination. Common conversations beween group-study-mates:
"Machan we'll start at 10".
At 10,"Pack da, well start after lunch".
After lunch, "Im sleisha crashy da, maybe at 4".
At 5 (ob everyone oversleeps), "Evenings are not appropriate to mug da.Lets discuss tommorrows plans to mug and then start actual mugging later.After grub."
After dinner," Just finished eating da.We rather not start on a full stomach.In time..."
Midnightish, "Machan lets start."(Yeah junta do mug but its usually this late and not for long...)
...Ad nauseum...

The Stanley Kubrick festival rolled on with yet another shady movie of his being screened in CLT.Lolita.Certain interesting comments from Murali and the enticing AC of the CLT coaxed me to go to the same.Ended being a "different" kind of movie sleisha funny though it is debatable whether those humourous parts were actually supposed to be so.I cant comment much because I kinda crashed near the end (a la Dasan).Walked back with KG and gen junta and entertaining conversations.

Anyways, OAT movie of the week was "Dance Like a Man".Nice movie.Nice story more like it.Stellar acting by Shobana.Though OAT witnessed the lowest turnout ever.EVER.Comfortable to sit thus.Enjoyable.(Dont think its worth seeing in a theatre)

Understand me better

Yeah finally out of the ideas.Got things to do tommorrow...

The woods are lovely dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep.
And miles to go before I sleep...
And miles to go before I sleep.

For now, I shall go to sleep anyways.Au revoir.

(Will someone please hit me on my head when I try putting pseud by writing in french again ? Give up)