Sitcoms of life-2

This is a sequel to the first one which came out waay back. Here's d link- http://arkofconwheals.blogspot.com/2008/12/sitcoms-of-lyf-1.html. Go check it out if u have nothing better to do...;) N this time around, this screwed up blogger will be commenting on the crowds, Diwali and trains. And to save time, we shall put all of them into one nightmarish yet illuminating(in a self-deprecating way) incident that I had recently.



Half an hour into my Genetics lecture on this 14th October, 3.30 PM, I realized that I wanted to go home this Diwali to be with my family. It was frighteningly simple and the implications of that realization frgihteningly complex, say like the desire to attend nature's call and being stuck in a Board of Director's meeting, the results of which will be that either ur bowels are the goner or your career is. In this case, luckily my bowels were not at stake and I have taken Biotech as my career option, so I dare u screw me...;)





I got up, feigned nausea and left the class. This was the simpler bit. I walked into a cyber cafe, took a "Waiting List-24" e-ticket for 3-tier AC that cost me a bomb and went back to hostel. I packed all my stuff into the college bag, slung it over m shoulders n set off by 6 in the evening. Was I insane? Yes. Partly 'coz logic goes out of the window when u are faced with two things- raging testosterone overdrive and a raging girlfriend.



I reached at 8 and found that my briliant "get-home-scheme-in-36-hours" was illegal, invalid and unauthorized. I couldn't board the train without a confirmed e-ticket and I had none. My adrenalin all high, I boarded the train without a ticket. Now, here's the pitfall(s) I didn't count for :-



1. The train was abnormally crowded, imagine all the girls in this world finding out that Brad Pitt and Tom Cruise are up for sale and bidding will be done for only 3 hours. Compare the waiting list to the server speed. The WL had gone upto 322 and then the rail authorities stopped the booking.



2. In this Great Indian Diwali Season, the minimum bribe costs 1000 bucks. With cops, it can go upto 5000.



3. People smell and stink in a boiling train moving across the divides of mid-terrain of this hot country. And itches do take place in the most objectionable places, help it or not.



4. You do need to sleep. No matter whatwe do during exams, we need sleep for atleast 5 hours...;)



5. Wailing babies go home during diwali too. And infants do pee n poo in their pants and the smell isn't exactly the le pleasante eau de toilette.




The train departed at 10.15 on the 14th night.


14th Night 10.20 PM-



Scene- 1

I sleep on someone's seat for almost an hour while he checks, re-checks n re-re-checks his ticket. He finally asks whether this is my seat. I stand up cockily and say No. He chucks me out of his seat.



Scene 2-

By 12.30 my legs are aching due to searchin for a place all across the train. People are lying hithereto and thereto and abovetoo and downtoo and sidetoo. I trample legs and hands in my search for a seat. I have no luck. I open a door and sit on the sill for an hour. Time passes comatose as the same scenery and rhythm passes by again and again. Darkness pierced by far-off lights. Darkness again. It almost lulls me off to sleep on the edge of the open door. It's desperation time, I realize grimly. I close the door, and go sleep near a guy whos lyin on a newspaper and bed sheet near a door. He adjusts his kind ass and lets me sleep. I finally fall asleep at 3 at night.





Scene 3- I am forced to wake up at 6 in the morning. By none other than a bunch of eunuchs straddling their threatning stuff for cash. Someone has slapped me lightly on the head I realize drowsily.

"Ai Raaju..dena.." Sound of clapping. Only it's no applause and no music to the ears either.



I force my eyes open after the third time. I vaguely see them. I say "Fuck Off".



They don't understand the lyrics but do get the gist of what I'm telling them to do. And yeah, it doesn't exactly please them.



"AIII RAAAJU!! ZYASTI MAT BOL...DETA HAIN KI UTHAUN??...



I say "Go have sex with yourself." and turn back to get some shut-eye. Only problem is that I don't get any. S/he is clamberin across the crowd of people to me. I panick so fast that a 10 Rs note flies off my hand as if I can mint money from hands. My sleep and money are both taken away from me in a cruel instant. I get up and wash my face. It's the first time that day.



15th October, 11.30 AM



I somewhere read a phrase as a kid on how to express a simile for packed things- "Packed as tight as a box of sardines." This later gave way to -"Packed tighter than the economy section of a Boeing-747." Going further with my story:



The heat is intolerable in the midst of 120 yapping humans inside a single compartment. The only respite is the AC compartments where I can't go and the big tankers having ice in the Pantry Car where I can't dunk my head into. I go wash my face for the seventh time since morning. I drink water like a famished UNICEF refugee from the train vendors.



2.30 PM afternoon:



I still don't have a seat and decide to wander like the lost. With only my backpack for company, I travel across the breadth of the train twice and finally between AC-II tier compartment. The passage is cool owing to the influx of cold winds from the AC-I tier and III tier. I thank the Lord and settle down.



2.45 afternoon:-

I curse the Lord and get up as a TC comes in. His smug and oily face gets an uplift when he sees me.

"Ticket?"-he enquires.

I produce my e-ticket which is so very invalid.

"This isn't valid."- he says through a layer of greasy happiness.

"Dude I want a ticket. How much?"-I had to appear confident if I wanted to save my ass n cash.

He likes being called dude. At 40 and a bun-sized bald spot on his head, anyone would appreciate the subtleties of flattery.

"Student eh?"

"Yea. Goin home for diwali dude." Damn I overdid it. The word "Diwali" bought him back to his senses so fast I didn't know what hit me next.

"That'll be 1500 Rs." - he said smoothly.

I tripped on his words. "How much?"- I asked wide-eyed.

"1500 Rs."

I recovered well. Too well. "You have an ATM card machine in trains? 'Coz I don't have that much in cash." Hell yea I was cocky.

"No but we have a special feature in our trains that helps us in throwing people off it. It's called The Chain. Would you like a demonstration?" Well-said. I almost applauded.

"I have 700 bucks man." I said in a panicky voice.

"I don't have time. Besides, I have an incentive for you. You can yourself pull the chain and get down. Nice na?"

"1000. Last and final."

"1500."

"Where's the chain?"- I said, taking my cockiness to a new level.


"1000 done."- the TC agreed.


Bingo-ding-ding-ding...Haha..Yipppeeee. I mentally hi-fived myself. Not bad huh??..


"So where's the seat dude?"- I guffawed and walked towards AC.


He looked at me as if I was barking mad.


"What?"-I said instinctively.


"Firstly, seat is in Sleeper coach. Second, you get it after Nagpur. Thirdly, I'll still show you the chain just in case it's not a deal."


The happiness fizzed out like a defective suspense plot of a B-grade Kollywood movie. I panicked again.


"1000?"- I stammered.


"Then what? You think you get an AC seat during Diwali season for 1000 bucks? What are u? Super-nuts or somethng?"




I eventually paid him 1000 bucks for a wasted seat which I got only fr 12 hours outo which I spent 7 sleeping on.


You know what the morale of this story is??



























P.S.- Screw the morale but gimme some cash man.




















P.S.S.- Saying:-


A fool and his money soon part ways.






A modified saying:-




An adrenalin charged emotionally driven cocky man with crazy tendencies of split-decision personality disorder and utter nonsensical blogging habits soon parts his ways with money.


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Jamming with God...;)

Artistic pleasure and creativity are a sacred breed in today's world as I found out much to my dismay coupla days back. If u have a wave of rebellious and flawed sense of humour, it makes ur work even harder as a trying-to-be-funny-writer. More so if u have a sister who can find an artist's blemish in a Picasso, a friend who thinks that ur a dumb nutcase with a chasm-wide understanding of how and what is to be said where and when and lastly, if u are me...;)







Well, disclaimers aside , I think my last blog was funny. Sadly, the people I came across piggybacked my descriptive wit and told me to write something better cooked and served, and not how and when I proudly announced my father to be a piano player in a whore house and my (almost) escapades. I was hurt. And I decided to jam with God over this. Yea don't blink allright. U read it right. I had a well-nutritioned discussion with God(yea, the Chetan Bhagat one. Just not that serious. I guess he was in some Bruce-Almighty phase or something.)











So yea , I was reflective this Sunday, sitting alone and mulling over world affairs. God came suddenly, and sat next to me. I was hardly surprised by his arrival. U c, I considered myself important enough since childhood to warrant a trip from God himself.







God:- So Arijit, say how's it going?.



Me:- Everything's ok mate. Just thinking about the world and all. The happenings going on.





Dunno why at this point God slyly arched his eyebrows when he looked at me. Slowly, he let out a crooked grin.


God:- World eh? U know who u r lying to? U were just thinking about ur life...





Me(defensively) :- Well yeah. When did I say my world doesn't revolve around me?...




God(sheepishly):- Oh yeah that's true man. Sorry I misinterpreted. And ur thinking that ur life sucks eh?..





I looked at this guy. He was middle-aged. Not a white hair on his body like those cheap mythological TV serials. He was dressed in a crisp linen white shirt and a pale blue jeans. His soft hair looked windswept, as if he had just paratchuted into my room. Well maybe he had. I just didn't give it much thought. Apparently, this was one cool God. I wondered if I could use a profanity.







God grinned - "Well, u can though I wouldn't appreciate it u know. There are certain customs that ought to be followed. Swearing in front of your elders isn't that up in my list but then again, u r some1 who u r. So it's upto u kid." He smiled. It was beatific, an all-knowing grin. This was really cool man.





Me:- Thanx Sir-



God:- "Don't "Sir" me. I'm allergic to it."





I stalled. I strained my brain for a topic. Nothing came. "What do u mean when u said that? I am who I am? What was that?"




God looked thoughtful just for an instant. Then he said-" U r a puzzle Arijit. Well, all of us are. Even me. I'm a puzzle for people out there who have to figure me out for themselves. U r a puzzle which u hv to figure out for yourself. There are people in this world who throw in the towel just coz there's no way out. Trust me when I say this but there's always a way out--


I had to interrupt him. "That is pure crap. Forgive me I just swore but u know what?. U have made this cryptic but there's no reason for that. Innocent people have no reason to die just 'coz they have been caught in the crossfire. It's one thing to say Karma and quite another to actually get a life out here . U deny that?..."





God smile again. It was innocent. " I like fire son. U have fire. We all do. It dies out. U know why?Situations. Circumstances. Ethics. It' s jungle that I have created out there. You can accuse me of partiality son but never accuse me of injustice. I have my ways. They are class and they work. That's why I still have the job kid." He gave a goofy grin and continued-"Sacrilege is acceptable for otherwise you'll never realize what u have lost. You need to cry. Not coz that imbibes faith in the Almighty and makes u realize you are nothing but a mere vulnerable insect in the scheme of my things. No. You need to cry just to make sure u never cry about the same reason twice. Yes people are dying out there. It never makes me flinch. You want to know what does?" He stopped.





I stared, held captive by the charm. He was charismatic, a strange mix of the euphoric and an effervescent craze. I nodded lightly.





He continued-"People are commiting suicide out there man. Why? Low grades. Lost love. Debt. That makes me flinch of what I have created. It makes me want to send a catastrophe out here. Maybe then people will realize what they are shoving around. Life isn't a commodity you bargain for death. Always remember that Arijit."





Heavy. It was heavy. Yet, this guy sitting next to me made sense. But time was up. I didn't realize it yet.




"Do you know why you are talking to me now?"-God asked.




I had no clue. I mean, come to think of it I actually had no clue AT ALL. I was an atheist after all. I was sure he knew that. So why me of all people in this universe?


I negated. "Dunno"- I said.

He grinned. " I saw a T-shirt couple of days back. U know what it said?"

I negated again. I was almost a rag doll in front of him now. I was doing his bidding. Of the guy I pretty much hated. Of someone I didn't believe in.

"I was an atheist until I realized I was God." The smile was child-like, captivating.





Then it was gone. Nothing. I dropped to the the bed, swaying as a heavy mist of sleep clouded me. I hadn't asked him any questions. He had not given me answers. Yet, I found some answers. Somewhere. I had to figure out my puzzle myself. That was what I was meant to do. And God was within me.



Or some shit of that kind, I thought as I lulled off into a dreamless, seamless sleep.

If this was true...;)

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P.S.- If you are a regular reader, you are probably used to the occasional epiliptic epiphany of mine which is sometimes more than not followed by bursts of "intellectual"(acc. to me..;) scenario in which real gives way to the hypothetical and a whacko blog comes forth that is unbelievable to the hilt. However, if you are new here, read further and expect nothing coz the truth has given way a "bit" to hypothetical again...;)









There are things in life, some of them which leave a sour taste in the mouth. Sometimes the tastes remain and sometimes the tide of time turns into a grin of reminiscence. This blog is about those times and what if scenario. Don't bail out now...;)





1. Somewhere back in the days there was a kid, let's say kinda like me. Now, i am not saying that it was me. It's hypothetical remember. There was a teacher in his class who used to teach them English. Once, the kid's answer was shot down by the teacher as incorrect. Now the kid thought his answer was correct but the teacher was just jealous that the kid could beat him in his subject. The pupil began to hate the teacher and just to annoy him, would give the weirdest of answers in class. Just to piss him off, mind you.



One fine day, the teacher thought the class kids should learn the art of speaking in public and he asked them, one by one, to tell the class briefly what their parents did. Now, that one kid thought he will piss his teacher off here as well. He waited, and waited, and waited for his turn. His turn came. He went to the front of class, the whole class looked expectantly and the teacher looked on patiently. With a crooked goofy grin, he said-" Hi. My dad plays the piano in a whore house."





Now, what followed next was an inarticulate silence from the teacher that wiped the grin from the kid and the innocence from the class. When the kid returned home and was asked by his mother why he had finger marks all over his little cheek, he shrugged and said -" Creativity Mum. It's not appreciated any more."



Yes. The kid survived to the tale. Oh, I mean tell me the tale. Sorry about that. All hypothetical remember.





2. There was once another guy, now in his teens, around 15. Assume it to be someone like..yeah, you know the answer you brainy gits...;) Assume remember. And in this case, it's even more important that i stress it's all assumption. So one day this guy was walking down the street one foggy January night and he felt the need to relieve himself. Yea pee. Right. So he chose a deserted corner of the billions available in this part of the world and went ahead. What he ddn't notice was that a man had followed him for some time. As the guy finished and turned back on his way, the man approached the satiated guy.

"Sir."-the man called.

The guy looked back, saw the man and looked around. He had never been called "Sir" before. He wanted to be sure before telling his friends.

"Who me?"- the guy asked moronically, like a dumb nitwit whilst he should have shown confidence at havin been called "Sir". Maybe that was the reason what happened next. He never found out though.



The man approached closer in that freaking foggy night. It was cold. The man came closer till he stopped face to face.

"It's very cold Sir."- the man said.

"Yea. And I'm sorry I don't have any money if thats what you want."- the guy was blunt.

"No no no. U misunderstand me Sir. I don't want cash. Infact I can give u money if u want."- the man offered.

"Really?"-the teenagers eyes were pickedly lecherous.

"Yea. Tell me. Are u open to sexual experimentation?"







The guy ddnt want the money that bad. He ran off like a hooker in a police raid. And he had to wait 1 more year before someone called him Sir again. That was when he went to open his bank account. He felt depressed at being called Sir. Till date he has never peed in public again.





Oh yeah by the way, he's completely normal and straight. Any cute chick interested in talking is most welcome. Post a comment and I'll give u m no. I mean his no.



Till the next time when the hypothetical rises again.

Adios.

Astalavista. Take Care.





P.S.- And someone tell me someone reads this blog. Otherwise I'll delete it and commit suicide. All hypothetically of course...;)

Oh Calcutta!!!....

Here's d discalimer fellas...if ur true blue die-hard rosogulla hoggin phuchka loving bong browbeater outside d human realms of humor den read furthr...;)...coz u c i luv d rxn of bengalis wen dey r confrontd wid d cons of calcutta...trust me evn if i went out wid a hot bong chick i wuld go slambang abt calcutta to gt her xpressions...for,u c u can take a person outta bengal bt u cnt take d bengal outta person...i vil leave out a lot of d real bengal coz i dnt hv d amputted frame of mind to covr it succintly...so here goes;)

Calcutta frst thngs frst ain't d "City of Lights"...d brevity of existing life out here is a contrast 2 a million color Sony Bravia...D paradox of Calcutta being calld "City of Lights" is somwat lyk callin Mumbai "Slumber Paradise"...or callin Delhi "Mild Intoxication"...fr Mumbai isnt slumber paradise n Delhi isnt mild...nw dat u hv gt dat straight n goin lets head in2 Oh Calcutta!!!...;)

Out here, d local lingo is d one u catch on a bus as u hop on frm Howrah Railway Station to ur destination...d slangs of d irritated driver n d irksome conductor r encoded in lyf by tongue-in-cheek wit...in different states dere r signs on d bus:-
aamchi Mumbai- dont talk to d driver...
saddi Delhi- please refrain from talkin to d driver...
namma Bangalore- ur requested not to talk to d driver...
n in aamar Calcutta-do not answer d driver...;)
as d driver maneuvers d rickety bus thru d umpteenth pothole n d millionth crowded street, every single passenger vil comment smtym or d oder-"daao bus ta ami chalai...nahole kal baadi pounchobo...(lemme drive u git oderwise v will reach home tommorrow)"...out here every1 of d passengr is an xpert hand at navigating thru d streets apart frm d two persons actually meant to...;)

Till day i hvnt met one typical bengali relative who wuldnt dole out advice free...n d range is vividly despairing...if i ws suffering frm a headache d possible explanation wuld b provided wid a furrowed eyebrow..."dunno bt i think hangover maybe...in case of an accident in which i ws ridin pillion..."u know wat??...dis kid is a real brat...y do u evn give him ur keys??...i cnt understand y u wnt to kill ur own son...u c wen my son raja ws small he bla blah blah blah..."


I remembr i used 2 despair wen sm of my aunthentic bengali relativs came ovr...dey wuld b one ounce of iron clad wisdom rolled in a rickety body which wuld go in2 hibernation if dey evr came in cold or heat...if dey did come durng peak cold i wuld wait eagerly to hv my revenge...wid deir cracking feet n complaints of faridabad bein toooooo cold for human survival, dey wuld flick on d heater n dig deep inside deir blanket burrow n go to sleep...one or two at nyt, i wuld creep up, switch off d heater n put on d fan at max...gute neight...;-P



Calcutta grls r d salvage...dey are howevr whr beauty lies in its true meaning...i hv seen delhi grls n bangalore grls...mumbai grls nt yet bt if beauty cuteness pretty watevr ws to b compared clcutta grls wuld beat dem hollow...lyk dey r beautiful wid most havin soulful eyes...n brains yea...;) As i said dey r d salvage fr a city dats coping undr d cloggage of past n d future, binded by d picnic of politics in d ugliest possible way, of a city strugglin to retain its glory of d past, of a city dats weighd down by d baggage of old blood n poltical excreta whr d young blood is wired flesh, blood n bone in2 d sick game of double handling undr d table cld politics...

Sad??...I'll leave dat to u 2 decide..

the reluctant relocator...;)

As i hv told u all earlier as well, d part of world i live in(read Tumkur) is an alien inhabitation of d most sci-fi humanoids...dis is most probably d place where d Extra Terrestrial from Steven Spielberg's flick came frm in his blockbuster "E.T"...n in his latter "War of the Worlds" i think d psyche blood suckin aliens were d college profs out here...no joke fellas...i"ll tell u jst hw i came to dis conclusion...

Discrimination is smthng m sure every1 hs faced in his lyf smtym or d oder...b it sibling or class or d chick u hd a crush on...every1 hs bin discriminatd smtym or d odr in his lyf m sure...howevr out here d worlds divided into two parts fr dese abracadabra supposedly human beings...n dat is localiites(read tumkur-born) n n rest of d world...

Now, wen i ws new here d frst ques i ws oftn askd by m profs ws "where r u from?"...n d innocent(metaphorically guys...;) me wuld always reply d honest answer-"Faridabad sir." If d prof raised a quirky eyebrow i'd helpfully add-"Haryana sir. NCR region. New Delhi."...Dat "New Delhi" wuld clinch d deal fr me...he wuld move on...howevr, i also met bigoted, partial, intolerant psyches of profs who wuld sneer 1ce dey heard adt "Faridabad..."dis happnd lots of tyms n even though m one guy whu tries to think logically n reasonably, i resisted d invitin temptation to take a long rod made of rusted iron n shove it up deir ass...

Newayz during lab externals, d frst ques ur askd is "Whr r u from?"...if u happen to say ur nt a localiite, den god-save-u...howevr, a frnd of mine ws treatd real bad, in an unjustifiable way coupla days back...d level of biased prejudice he hd to face one he answrd his native as Jamshedpur ws soggy even by Ekta Kapoor teleserials...

Dis set me thinkin...n i responded back durin my extrnal(finally, even though i hd bin wntin to hash back at dem fr quite sm tym) wen d anticipated question ws askd frm me...dis is kinda hw it went off:
Xtrnal- hmmm...so where are u from??...
Me- LOC...
Xtrnal-where is dat??...
Me-at d fringing periphery of india on d verge of saturation sir...
Xtrnal- nvr heard of it...which state??...
Me- right now its in war state sir...
Xtrnal-waaar state??...waat maaaan??..india hs 28 states...nvr heard of dis state...wat r u sayin man??...where is it??...
I tuk pity on d alien and broke it down to him...
Me-Indo-Pak border sir...LOC...line of-...
The xtrnal ddnt let me finish...he muttered d last word, his face an ashen mix of rotten plum and greasy soft blackcurrant...
Xtrnal- Control??...Line of Control??...The Line of Control??...u mean THE loc??..
I smiled...warmly, smugly, almost invitin him ovr to my place fr tea n sm fresh mortar shells...The friggin piece of lop-sided guts panickd...
Xtrnal- ok. ok. go. ur viva is ovr...ur free to leave...
Me-sure sir??...ok sir..
Next 15 mins he kept talkin to our internal teachr b4 he coldly calld me n tuk my case fr around 14 mins, badgerin me wid questions abt d geographical location of d LOC to y in C- Programming d formatted input output functions are called formatted...;)

P.S.- i njoyd dose 3 mins...if in duress, turn d tables...






P.S.S.- jst make sure ur nt around aftr u turn d tables...cheers;)








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End-Sems n d tirade within...

Hullo folks...m back after a hiatus...movin on wid d musings of my life my topic as u supremely intellignt creatures must hv al gathrd by now is anothr cry against d existin system n some creative insights to bring about a change dt will make d country great n proud of engineers n indigenous offsprings lyk us...;-)fairly long shot i wuld say rt now...;)


END-SEMS...the dread seeps thru like some archaic poison, wreakin havoc on my system n most of u all as wel i guess...n mine is from dis thursday...so pray fr me evry1...;)so wt m sayin is y d heck do we need exams in dis country to prove our mettle eh??...tell me one great man who ws d outcome of shithead profs coated wid assignment sheets n i vil show u a loser...wow nice line no??;)...newayz pt is dat dis country deserves better dan moronic drones who make it deir sole job to mug up crap n den puke it out in exams...wheres d creativity??...whrs d freakin guts to glory??..all dis is is a slugfest whr d biggest mugger wins...a race to death whr no1 knows wat is whose n wat he needs...i remarked about dis inversely symbiotic relationship before in my blog...if u hvnt seen it yet chck it out @- http://arkofconwheals.blogspot.com/2009/01/im-backk-n-2days-diatribe-u-all-will.html and http://arkofconwheals.blogspot.com/2008/10/beauty-of-college-lyf-isnt-d-melancholy.html

as d great Sherlock Holmes 1ce said on havin been found guilty of nt knowin abt d solar system-"a clever craftsman knows exactly wat he needs...so he wont fill his head wid d stuff he doesnt...fr wen d tym comes to pick d rt stuff, all dat he needs is lost in d junkyard dat is his
brain now"...wen Watson remarks bemusedly-"bt d solar system??"..."It wuldnt make a pennyworth of difference to me n my work if we went around d moon instead of d sun"...;)


however dis isnt fiction n d 18th century...dis is life in d 21st century...whr i cn snoop in2 ur account to know hw much cash u hv in ur banks...so wt m saying is dat education isnt half as important as d life in real world..as Oscar Wilde said memorably-"Education is an admirable thing, but it is well to remember from time to time that nothing that is worth knowing can be taught..." he was a sly head, an amalgam of sarcasm n wit wid his brilliant nonchalance thrown in...heady stuff indeed...

I am indebted to dis college fr teaching me in 1 year itself wt i dnt want...i dnt want to b a jerk wid buks as my soulmates, a walkin drone who cn work his ass off fr somethng he doesnt luv n like...an engineerin studnt who ddnt flunk atleast 1ce...;)...

SIT i thnk u from d pit of my heart to teach me wat i dnt want to be in my life...thanku my profs n teachers...thanku...may u get u twice d pleasure u gave me...;)



P.S.- sad blog??...i know...;)

metrosexuality n anthropology...;)

so here's d thing...coupla days back i went out of dis ultra supergalactic intra spectacular fantabulous super cosmopolitan wonder city Tumkur to Bangalore(no i dnt call dem by deir new names...)...n i observed dis phenomenon cld "metrosexuality" sweeping across...mayb its jst dat day wen i thot all d guys decided to wear pink n act gross...mayb not...who knows??...i hv always struggled to come 2 terms wid "metrosexuality"...call me of d old school mayb n i wont care bt wat i find amusing r men who wear body-huggin tees in baby pink...mayb m sexist bt u'd already kno dat if u follow my blog...mayb i belong to d stone age n nt d 21st century...

Dictionary.com defines metrosexuality as"Metrosexual is a neologism generally applied to heterosexual men with a strong concern for their appearance, or whose lifestyles display attributes stereotypically seen among gay men. Debate surrounds the term's use as a theoretical signifier of gender deconstruction and its associations with consumerism. The word was coined as a tongue-in-cheek play on "homosexual"..widout delving in-depth, i call dem guys wid alternative sexual prefrence...

yea i accept it m nuts to b writin dis bt Bangalore(n Garuda mall, Brigade n MG in particular) seriously gt me thinkin...is it d well-groomed man (dats open to interpretation u know...;) who's subject to d ridicule n slandering of being calld a dandy nt allowd to take care of his nails n eyebrows since initially it ws thot of as a woman's job??...or is it jst dat girls r playin power games in order to keep d upper hand in d ever-going battle of sexes??...wat is it??...is sharing d bill unchivalrous n unmanly or is paying d bill sexist??...is hygiene important or is pluckin out a monobrow metrosexual??...post ur opinions...

n hv i gone crazy??...u betcha...;)

kudos to d lord...

dis(acc. to me) is a disclaimer - fr those who cant appreciate satire or humour in its raunchy form kindly dnt read fr u might jst constipate on d hogwash dat'll follow dis...













college fests r an unholy matrimony heaven n hell, whr d beauty of heavens descend down upon us in deir mortal form n d beasts of hell cut loose to gawk(i hope u gt my drift...;-)...girls r beautiful no doubt n some girls r more so, which acc to me is d severest means of discrimination by nature...no wt m saying is by no means chauvnistic n hear me out b4 u call me a "^$%*#%*&!"...nw acc to charles dickens(fr dose who dnt know him he ws a prick n fr dose who do know him, i think he ws a prick;-) so dis white-beard nerd proposed dat nature always works out everything acc to d best possible option available n d fittest shit on d planet survives...



nw superman might hv bin frm krypton bt i doubt whether d man of steel ddnt go thru puberty n hd freckles or ddnt gt tongue-tied talkin to louis lane...nw he wanted to live as "clark kent" is a diff matter altogthr, mayb he wntd to pursue celibacy fr all i know bt wt m sayin is dat mayb, jst mayb if dicken's theory ws true, nature wuld hv workd out dat all red-blooded men gt attractd to beautiful women n churned dem out dat way in droves...so mayb dickens(shit!!...dat ws a mistake) theory is all chicken-shit n i'll tell u xctly hw i came to observe dis interesting piece of completely useless jaywalking dat i did n u shuld avoid...





so yea v hv dis collg fest in a coupla days n d balls hv strtd rolling(nw dat ws a stinky joke wsnt it??..;-) n guys being guys r looking everywhr meanin dey r hvin a field day...nw as i said i ws jaywalking(dats a term jay leno gave birth metaphorically...it means walking aimlessly n observing shit thngs people do n finding humour in dose idiotic things)...so dese 2 grls walk past by n wt dese 3 guys do r check dem out in d primitive way(i think its my subjugate duty to inform u dat in dis case primitive means- "not subtle";-)...n dese grls r so completely aloof as if dey r unaware of oder existing species on dis planet...d guys hv goggled n dey move to d next thing...nw i ws walking behind dem n dis is wat ws d rxn of d grls...i tried hard nt to eavesdrop bt sweet audible voice is always unfilterable...



grl 1(thru d side of hr mouth n almost bristling) : dose guys chckd me out??...luk at dem...deir guts...scoundrels...

grl 2(speakin in a funny way) : no dey ddnt...

grl 1(nw indignantly) : yes dey did...i saw dey did...

grl 2(luks at grl1 n archs hr eyebrows) : ok...

grl1(giggles suddenly n infuriatingly hard) : dey did ddnt dey??...

grl2(luks ahead n a twitch on d left side of her face, mayb smiling) : yea dey did...

grl1 cnt contain hr unappeasable excitement n breaks in2 a song hum in 10 seconds flat wid an almost unnoticeable spring in hr step....





i'm boggled so i stay back n try 2 think about d mechanics of d female mind...i cnt so i come n write dis blog....cn sum1 pls explain wt transpired to dis lost blogger??;-)...

Jason Bourne...;-)

my frnds cant stand me wen i talk about Jason Bourne n here's d worst part, dey dont understand enough to dislike him...u c, i hv read d bourne, no make dat -"The Bourne Trilogy"...;-) some 12 times n i find d tormenting haunts of bourne's mind incredibly alluring...his is a journey in2 d violent n torturous maze of hell widout a past memory...a clean sheet where fragmented bits of writing are bolted by words, actions n intutions...a world where d imbalance of insanity n reason are lost in a time warp...n he lives on instinct...d fractionating deviation b/w life and death is eroded by animalistic primitivity, dat of a hunted animal's...

his hand-to-hand combat is cruelly superior to d best, a lightning fast array of moving hands n bludgeoning feet dat crash in shoulder blades n abdomen, surging granite hard slabs of palm dat cudgel into throat n hands dat break bones widout effort...insanity be thy name...his is a story of convoluted proportions, he wanted death n he ws born again, his past a blank, his bullet riddled body fished out of the Mediterranean Sea, a bank code surgically embedded in2 his hip...he has no name n he sets out to find his past, a past dat sends him reeling in2 d darkest realms of violence n blood-coated grime ever known...

robert ludlum, d author of d books(fr dose who r aliens on dis planet...;-)creates an effervescent character whose bleeding pain n torturous journey through d darkness imbibes heart-racing moments, violent n crimson colour action in n magnificient n enriching in detail adds pulse-pounding thrill to this psychological action suspense thriller n makes it a covetous read...Jason Bourne casts a spell dat is eternally infallible n takes u on a journey dat makes u hold ur breath as he alone pulses his way thru d dark labyrinthe of his past life, dodging bullets, automatic weapon wielding assassins n CIA itself where every1 wants him dead, a bullet hole smeared between his eyes...

who is Jason Bourne???...

the answer may kill him.

N now fr all d Bourne fans, heres my frst edited video...check it out n comment...heres d link...http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LvvKBduyQM8

pls do comment on hw it was...till den adios...cheers...;)

reclusive teacher...

blogging(which in my case hs escalated) is smthng i pickd up frm a frnd...dis frnd of mine is a purist of undefined inclinations...his heart n soul rests in a way linear to how his sentences r arranged...his earliest criticism of my blogs ws dat "u dnt write english bt nonchalance"...bamboozled by dis bizzare point i askd fr elaboration...he grunted lyk a sore-ass yak of d highlands-"jst luk at d way u write will u??...its all tipsy, as if d words got drunk n starched out in d sun..."

now m no einstein bt it ws d second tym in as many minutes dat his words seemed to brutally escape my feeble senses...mentally i thot of going n takin an IQ test bt in d physical world i broke it down to him dat i ws asking d criticism to b elaborated n nt whether he ws doing freelance work fr oxford dictionary...he scrunched up his face airily n rotated his right wrist loosely lyk a nobel laureate about to denounce d theory of relativity...i waited patiently lyk d true scholar awaitin d thesis frm d horse's mouth dat vil shake d world...it came smthng lyk dis, his voice a cleat of a masterful prodigy-"u c, ur thoughts r in a spiralling horizon of acerbic emptiness which wen u bring out resembles d awesome stillness of an empty colosseum...d beats r remarkably loud bt d essence is missing...d essence of d true depth..."

his face ws so writ wid explanation dat i culdnt bear to tell him dat his denouncement of einstein's theory ws hogwash n d most creative bullshit ever...instead i told him dat i got d point(even though dere wsnt ne...;-)...he relaxed back in 2 his chair n dis tym grunted lyk a yeti of d himalyas n i finally got wat he ws tryin to tell me-"so u c u shuld write english lyk its properly written...capitals aftr a full stop, commas wen a pause, no acronym, no "dat" instead of "that"..."

i lukd at him...mayb i ws too incredulous to speak n d expression came out a bit too harsh bt dunno y he scarpered frm d spot...

reverse dreaming...

The dreary existence of our forsaken selves r misplaced n mismatched to d hilt in dis inverted world...my friends of late hv bin bearing d brunt of wat dey say is my "cynical n sarcastic" best...my profs come to class n announce in a monodrone voice of a whooshing vaccuum cleaner-"ariiijiiiiiiiit(d i's r longer pertaining to my non-visibility in classes of late n d i's continue till some kind(perverted...) soul ends his/her search by declaring my burrow located deep in d corner of left hand side last bench...n as dey say- d buck stops dere...

jokes r cruelly tipped off by d haunting aura of nonsensical blabber dat keeps emanating from my mouth(n in dis case my fingers...)which in turn find solace in some distracted frnd's ears(m sure dat my words dnt inject nethng remotely gud oderwise some ppl wuld hv bin bound long ago)...noder thing m sure about is dat my "cynical" humdrumming dat my frnds hv brought to my recent & reticent notice fr d past days has in fact bin bred nt by my atrocious fate as i hv smtym said bt by my acceptin of situations...i smtyms feel lyk bttr prepared nowadays...case in example is wen i reach out fr my purse aftr having d disgusting bhelpuri n find to my close observation dat its empty...it has also come to my latest notice(courtesy my kind friend biswajeet) dat d sky isnt blue 'coz of science bt 'coz of sins...

cynical??...says who??...

my life was never d humour laden platinum spoon(which by d way i ws born wid....or was i??...newayz) dat i hv bin cradling(n drooling all over..) while trying vainly (or ws it valiantly??..) to gt straight (nt d metaphorical sense mind u...) in lyf...christ m confused ain't i??...n my profs say dat m getting worse..."worse dan who??" -i ask plaintively, my mind drawing a blank...i get a stare dat says- "very funny young man"...bt were it funny dey'll b laughing won't dey??...

n while i count stars at night somedays(sleep seems to b escaping me wen i need her d most) i cn c a face up dere...i blink my eyes...yea i ws hallcinatin i realize...bt den i frget d stars n try to c d face again...i strain...i push...hard...i cn make out...bt its faint...n den it vanishes...

u know d thing about hallucinating dnt u??...it's bare...

P.S-god bless u...

word's worth...;-)

JAN 2nd 2009, 4.15 a.m, Tumkur...



It was a chilly, decrepit winter night, d cold waning as d night reluctantly released d clutches of darkness over dis part of d world. 3 guys lay prone on 3 diff. beds of a hostel. Insomnia was at it's peak, controlling us n we had run out of topics to discuss... & at 4.15 dat nyt we 3 geniuses decided to write smthng, precisely speaking- a poem. One gave up in minutes. Me n d oder soldiered on...



20 mins later, i had had enough of his sniggers n threw my half-written poem at d lazy bum who had given up, challenging him to complete my absurd train of thoughts dat hd(amazingly...;-) culminated in2 smthng remotely resembling a poem...he accepted n i proudly present....





The Last Spring

The world has fallen,

Angst of the sigh still unseen,

Beneath the darkened wing,

I still await the last spring...





Ripped is the pain, the tremors vacantly lean,

Away from it all, cries the child from his mother weaned,

Rusted is the love, the hope few n far between,

Lasting are the cries, d scars raw yet clean,

And yet the birds sing,

So here I am, awaiting the last fall of spring...



Beyond the undead scars that my heart adorns

Leagues from respite, hopes yet unborn,

Beneath the bloods of past I still drape,

For a sunshine the heart craves,

Against the darkness that the undertakers bring,

I hope n await the last spring...







thanku, thanku,thanku...

from me n biswajeet(yea dat's d idiot's name...)





n yea by d way, 5 hrs from d tym we wrote d poem, we wrote our physics semester exams...









As we say so majestically in d poem dat could give Shakespeare a run fr his money,



We're still awaiting d last spring....;-)







P.S- i'm ok...

P.S.S-n d flowers r for u...:-)

seriously nothing...

D stretch b/w d stark naked truths n d hazy maze of effervescent dreams r a myriad illusion...u cant escape either n yet u cant attain d modern-day nirvana of peace- of escaping angst ridden heartstrings dat render u in a mesh of paralytic occlusion. Blessed r dose who survive fr every step of d way is lyk having a thinning stream of ruptured dreams held tantalisingly in ur face. D faces r extraordinary, senile, beautiful, pretty, each one obfuscatingly painful. Yet v pass, v all pass thru d mesh n sooner or later v realize d gravity of love...Its insane, drawing us, compelling us in2 submission n v yield yet again, cringing fr d next part of d illusion.

Dreams r never meant fr dis part of d universe, if u harbour one ur destined to fail...

Dream low, go so slow, fr d night's just begun, n lightyears away is d sun

Ur wish b granted, it will b done, fr every step u take noder heart will b torn

For d one u yearn, behold d heaven's lovestruck son,

N u b doomed, begone, a cryptic message u'll take fr The One...

Dats d rule of d game if ur permitted to call it so. Ur passions r quiet in dis cosmos, d whirr of d motion of destiny is a preambulate chain dat caters to d whims of d whimsical...d rest b damned...

n wats up wid me??...

no, ur nt permitted to ask...god bless u.

d frst buk review....well almost;-)

emotion or commotion??...wat is it??..dat thing calld love...dats d basic premise of d buk...yea its d name of d buk..."dat thing called love" written by Tuhin.A.Sinha...


Its nt really a bad start fr some script-writer who used to write lines fr some StarPlus/StarOne kinda shit serials dat r d biggest glycerine consumers single-handedly, d absurdly exaggerated camera movements dat made d cameraman seem lyk he ws tripped out on drugs, d plotting women n d sole bhartiya naari who leakd lyk a monsoon tap, d husband who'd b eithr b busy screwin or bein screwed, d one vamp in d serial who's eyes would alternately flame up along wid gut-churning SFX masacra(i gt d spelling rt na??..) n background score dat could put some death metal band to shame...

by d way y am i talkin abt dis crap wen i wuldnt ever in my senses??....aaaahh yea...dat book...as i was sayin nice try by sm1 who has written lines lyk "main tumhare najayez bachche ki ma banne wali hun"...d whole book is set at a languid pace throughout which smtyms irks u no end...yet it perks up often , d infused undercurrent of d rambunctious protagonist's struggle to cum to terms wid d past n present smtyms serves up a delicious palate of whiff bt it isnt enough to last u d book...

D words spoken by d persons in dis bookr kinda out of my league i guess...u might lyk it...i ddnt...its sketchy to b accurate bt some of d characters r well-etched out...however, d woman for who our guy falls isnt conjurable enough...mayb i lack d imagination...mayb d author left it to gud cause...

all in all my verdict...an ok breezy kinda read if u want to delve in2 relationships in general...sketchy bt survivable...guess dis guy could do better nxt tym around...

guess I'll b watching ur nxt Tuhin..;-)

bits of crumbs...

folks here i am...("folks" implies d tiny percentage of ppl who hv sanctimoniously maintained d urge to check my blog widout being coerced in2 it...;-)...n dis "grt blogowner" has gt competition it seems...

u know wat??...i hv already lost 2 her...;-)

so m back to college after a 3 week layoff(in times of such recession, i guess dis isnt d rt word to use bt jst culdnt help it;-)..n m already feeling lyk some drunk in a trance state...its lyk jumping in2 d deep end of d pool all over again...d mess food's aroma is still willfully unindulgent to my senses, d sambhar tastes morbid n d consistency n thickness of d accompanying sabji is equivocally suspect...d colour of it varies everyday wid matching taste of spite...d rotis seem 2 b from a diff orbit altogether wat wid deir unbeatable crunchiness dat could beat a Munch hands down....n Ma wonders y my appetite's whetted down to sub-zero;-)...aaaaaaaaaah heavens its a conspiracy of d gods...wish Satan would do something about it....

N speaking of mess, my life's moving in a way tangential to wat i had preposterously thot...i thot dat my lyf wuld go lyk a stallion widout reins in a straight line(its called gravity fr dose who ddnt get it...;-)...n boy results came out...n guess wat??...

i was incidentally humming a Justin Timberlake track at dat tym d results came out...i never thot dat my unintentional prophecy wuld turn out so grossly accurate....

P.S- d track was "I got a sexy back...

yeaahh....yeaaahh

I got a sexy back..."...i hope fr my sake u dnt get it...;-)

of tennis and passions..........

hey ppl m baccckkkkk......!!!
m jus misusing d gr8 honour dat dis blogowner hs givn me to blog on his part.....!!!:)
lawn tennis ne1.....?
well....this australian open 2009 is 1 helluva thng.....
i mn........wat wid d william sisters winnind d women's doubles......n bhupati-mirza pair leadin in d doubles;
with his "c'mon baibay..." action aftr d win........
williams beating safina in straight sets.....maannn...!!...
but yet d ultimate one remains......
yes ....u guessed it right.....d great no.1, no.2 seeds fluctuating b/w d ranks...
NADAL vs. FEDERER...!!!! dis is 1 match which no 1....i mean no tennis lover would like to miss for nethng in lyf......
at least not after the historical wimbledon 2008 which was a close shave b/w the 2.....
there is sumthng b/w federer , nadal duo......
i mean it goes lyk if dey have a match against each other, den dey nva lag behind each oder.......i dunno hw it happens.......
if it l b lyk 4-2 nad-fed, then widin 5 min it wud b 4-4 nad-fed.....gaaawwddd......n dats y deirs
is 1 match actually worth being written down in d pages of history......dey wud nva leave even a single shot....
as if deir lives depend on it......(i mn dey do ...ov course....!!)!!!
with 15 grand slams in his pocket , federer wud b d hot 1 fr bookies in ne match.....bt wat wid nadal showin
off his real talent,this somehow has given way for both feddy n rafa equally likely to be d winners........
so as it happened.......today i went to c d match ......d australian open 2009 of d gr8 plyrs......
d 1st set nad-fed 7-5 was as exhilarating as eva....!!!!!!
i mn beautiful..sexy....hooottt......
bt den......wid d start of the 2nd set.,....federer startd giving a disappointing performance
though both were still neck to neck.....n i stopped watching it.....
m a hard-core federer fan.....but somehow while watching d match i end up regrettin or celebrating fr both sides ....
i dunno y.......bt den i gav it a thot.....dat both are d world bests......so it comes out i guess.....d emotions...hehehe

juss wen i ws deep into da world of federer, along came novak djokovic n ma heart went out fr d tall, lean , handsome siberian hunk .....tennis playr...n more bcoz he defeated feddy......!!!!!!
i mn defeating d world no.1 n nw rankd no.3.....dats sayin somethng maaannnn.......!!!!!
neways......dis match hs bin won by rafa.......no prob fed buddy........
i knw u hv it in u(lolzzz) n u l able to do it......!!!!!!!

the chauvinistic pleasure called shopping.......

shopping............
.....................................................
well.....i knw dat it dsnt require any xplanation.......d dots aftr d 1st word hv said it all i guess......!!!!
bt nonetheless.......
dis is 1 thng ne grl wud luuvvv tokin abt n ol d more doin it........hehehe
being a girl myself, dis is actually a chauvinistic pleasure......
d gr8 owner of dis blog has not had d pleasure of actually goin shopping wid me bt he jus had a "jhalak".....!!!! :)
weneva i get tym fr dis "great and religious" deed,
now, now.......don't get confused.....i hv nt drifted frm d topic entirely.....so a li'l insight into dis....
dis basically is d place whr i stay; wid only a small difference dat it is in india.....
d rural luxemborg (dis is an elite alias so dat its inhabitants don't feel alienated frm their world....;-)) so weneva m able to get out i take care to shop till i drop.......!! it is actually an art which, sadly, many people don't have.....only d female species has...n it has done d business world proud.....for, had it not been for them, where wud all the sethjis n all those wasteheads be goin....?!?...
I, for 1, m a complete SHOPAHOLIC....as i cnt put it better than that......lol.....ma fav places being all d gud 1nes in delhi.......well....lets nt delve deep into ma lyks.....
so...as i ws sayin......it is said dat diamonds are a girl's best friend....bt believe me........if ur girl is upset wid u..........forget all gile -shikwe wid her n tak her out fr a nice shopping spree....n agree to watever she wants to buy....dat'll definitely make her feell all goody goody n.. welll.....aftr dat.....c d results fr urself......!!!!
welll....dats it fr nw i guess....!!!!
so....happy shopping......!!!!

dat thing about plans...

I'm backk n 2day's diatribe u all will have to accompany again...please bear wid me for m in a reflective mood...

The vagaries of life can b measured only wen u set a plan...a definite course of action u want to tread upon in ur life...d whimsicalities of it can den b remarkably funny n atrocious...god bless ur soul if ur my kind though...;-)

I 1ce had a plan...it was beautiful...i basked in its sunshine for one whole month...dat tym i was a stoic kid of 15 yrs...i had a vision u c...a plan dat needed execution...now i am a still a visionary...however i sell vision nowadays -2 ne1 who has d distinctive ability to rattle d rooster's cage("the white tiger" expression) v live in...u c nowadays i hv realized d difference b/w living a dream n living a dream...d former's better...;-)

my plan was formed not on a drunken night but on a night wen i read FPS...yes i wanted to crack IIT...dnt gt me wrong...d mosaic of mesmerizing dreams has its own charm n i was held captive...captive 2 d thousand coruscating flashes of light dat promised me i could do it...yes i was drunk...high on d success of living my dream...it was not to be...d dream lyk all things of my life corrupted n corroded in2 a satire of inertia dat wound me galaxies from it all...IIT b damned...just lemme pass dis tym god...pleeaasss god...dnt lemme flunk again...it's amazing how wen u dnt plan things, dey prioritise demselves on deir own...plans i had...i still do...only d inertia binds me...

now i am 19 n in college...b4 entering i had a plan...doin well...gettin a job(maybe...;-)...in short i had a long term plan...however lyf is an intricate wrangle of deceitful truths dat can b ur mate n yet screw up ur fate...now i have a vision..short-term one though...n dat is-SCREW PLANS...i know someday i will yield back 2 dat spiral of anticpation which comes wid a plan...till den i have d next bit of bad news to luk forward to...;-)

I have a frnd who was crazy...she made plans...lots of dem..she exercised d muscle b/w her ears far too much...strained her brains out literally...den smthng happened to her...n she gt d drift of wat was coming...inspite of her plans, things were gettin screwed up...sm1 told her(aahhhmmm...;-)2 lighten up a bit...she lightened up waaay 2 much...now she enjoys pissin off profs...n now m worried...

but u know wat??...screw d plan n njoi d free fall for a while...trust me...nothin in lyf is worth d plans...

P.S-even IIT wasnt...;-)

P.S.S-n no its nt d case of sour grapes...;-)