Transgressions

How necessary is change? Why do some people willingly embrace it whilst others abhor it? Is it the only tangible constant or is it repetitive in the realms of necessity? Why do people's desires change over time from dreams to whatever's-in-hand? Why does a girl who dreams of Mr Right settle down with Mr Earns-A-Fuckin'-Lot?

 Why does creativity have no outright takers? Why is innovation predicated on pecuniary means? Why is contentment so elusive? What is contentment? Does happiness have a viable meaning?


Can promiscuity really engender love? When do love and hate collide? Why can't we cure cancer? Why is learning made up of earning? Why do people not use birth control? Why are sons favored over daughters?


Why does free speech only advocate moderate views and not extremist or conservationist views? What is the real meaning of being literate? Why are materialistic gains only looked down upon or looked upto? Why does India have no idea where it's heading? Why do homosexuals need endorsement from celebs to be what they are? Why is prudish behavior met with disapproval? Why am I writing all this?


I haven't an idea of the peculiar human nature that resides among us all but if it did have a voice, it would be disdain.
No really it would.
No catharsis of any sort can help unless elementary, breeding doubts are met. My doubt is:
What is the true meaning of being literate?

Joey vs Barney: Legen-waitforit-till the end of the post i meant.

F.R.I.E.N.D.S - Epic. Unrivalled. Colossal success. Phenomenal.
How I Met Your Mother - Barney Stinson.

A friend of mine said a couple of days back- "Barney Stinson is the new Joey". I spluttered and planned to garrote him in the chasms of my mind. He, then went on to explain that Baaarneeey is the new Jooeeey and not that HIMYM is the new F.R.I.E.N.D.S. I thought about it and since I hated the thought process and where it led me, I therefore proceed to exhume a factor called "Joey" of a goliathan show that's been off air for 8 years now and still has sponsors lining up for re-runs. I pit it against the formidable if not great 'David'ish HIMYM. Since even this would be unfair on many levels, I decide to piggyback on my last sentence and pit Joey with his lady-killing ways and bufffonish charms against the upcoming Barney Stinson with all his Lemon Laws and The Playbook intact.

What Joey had going for him: 
Dr. Drake Ramoray and how he played it, giving his original character a split-personality. Apart from that, Joey had the IQ level of a 4 year old that was sort of funnily endearing. Imagine him not sharing his food and shouting about it. Or the time when he went and got his apartment looted by getting locked in the cupboard by the thief when trying to sell the "Entertainment Unit". Or when he finds about Chandler and Monica and can't tell anyone. Or when he goes and get his head stuck up a turkey on Thanksgiving. Damn I miss the show!!





What Barney has going for him :
The fact of the matter stays that Barney is the pivot around which the whole show of HIMYM hinges and that's what makes my job more difficult and the show more pedestrian. Barney's goofiness is uncannily unlike anyone and for that, I do believe Barney has the upper hand. However, would I rate him higher on the comic-timing scale above Joey? Circumstantial evidence is all we have and based on that, I wouldn't. Would you honestly?? The next part becomes his characterization and herein again, Joey beats him solely on the basis of the support characters he had and what Barney sorely lacks(this is the circumstantial evidence I talked about).  A Chandler-Joey altercation would definitely bring me to the "worth-engaging level" and something that even a "Barney-Ted" bonhomie can't. Scripting problems eh??


Joey vs Barney: You're Hired!!
Whose job is cooler and which one would you prefer? A struggling actor/self-proclaimed soap opera "star"/theatre actor who manages to get along or someone like Barney Stinson with his megalomaniac mindset and suit obsession which he can afford by virtue of his job of ummm..what does he do again at GNB??..I go for Barney. Don't blame me. Money is the root of all evils. Not having money the evil itself.


THE LADIES ARENA


How You DOOIN?!!
The single pick-up line Joey Tribbiani used to get girls and boy did it work!! It sure did beat the hell out of any competetion at that time. He has slept with girls and never called them. He has forgotten about girls and met them on the streets and not remembered and hit on them again. He has possibly slept with every single girls in her 20's in NYC. Fine I exaggerated. He has possibly the fluidest of moves when hitting on the opposite sex and he charms them into bed without lying to them. 


THE PLAYBOOK
Barney Stinson doesn't play by the rules. He hits on bimbos and he's Armani-clad awesome. He picks up bimbos and then sleeps on them. Bimbos make his world go round and go down and go up. Wise strategy. Only question: Does MacLaren's have this "Bimbo Day" every other day by any chance? I mean yea, Stinson is class with his suave one-liners and tongue-in-cheek wit but the Playbook he uses more often than not, uses in his own words-"scam, con, hustle, hoowink, gambit, flim-flam, strategim and bamboozle to pick up chicks and give 'em the business". I am a sexist yea, but I object to the implication that all bimbos are centred in NYC. But nevertheless, Respect for the bro. Even doing 200 chicks on a show is some serious business and predicates the risk of STD's. Hence, the RESPECT.

CONCLUSION:
2-1. Joey still hold the throne. I know it's time Barney took over and he almost has, but for the extent of sanity, I preserve that "LEGEN-waitforit-DARY" has to wait some more. Drop me a comment. Cheers!!

Of Exe's and Flames..

"Y-o-u comple-te me-e-e."- Jerry Maguire said to the lovely Dorothy Boyd, his angst and love sweeping across his eyes in the cult classic "Jerry Maguire". That line went down as one of the oft-repeated phrases in the history of our times, a (for the lack of a better word) premonition of the statement "I Love You". There was also one statement which struck me as pure genius in the same movie and the statement was "We live in a cynical world. A cynical, cynical world." The depth of this sentence had more gravitas as compared to what followed and what made half the movie-goers cry and sniff. It was an oxymoron of a sentence and yet, it made sense. No one cares about the world being cynical as long as you complete me. And that in essence conveyed the spirit of the lovely, sometimes digressing but engaging movie "Jerry Maguire".

Which bring us to my title. Of exes and flames. Of love, lust and power games. Of egos, tears and sardonic smile. Of male, female and inherent guile. In this cynical world, a relationship fails to work 7 out of 10 times. The standard reason?? Relationships are built on expectations and expectations are relationship killers. Carnage results the first break-up. Second time mistrust. Third time desperation. You blame the universe for it's conspiracy against you. Life goes on innit?? Let me tell you all folksy about the story of the ex and the flame.


The ex is the past. The flame is the burning past which doesn't let go. Try hard not to cross paths but chances are that you will see him/her somewhere. Some exes are mature enough to be friends while some turn out to be friends with benefits(legen-waitforit-D-A-R-Y). Majority however, are stuck in the warp of love, lust, dislike, hate, mistrust and the biggest of all- Memories. If you chance across her, how would it go??..Here's a short transcript with thought bubbles in italics and actual conversation in bold.


Guy and Girl in the supermarket. A year since they broke up an then, voila!! Guy turns a bend while girl is picking something off the bottom rack. Guy halts

Guy: That looks like her ass. Hang on. That is her ass. That is her. Crap!! RUN. NO. Stay. Just look a bit more. NO. Stay. Run. STAY!!
Lesson 1: A guy will never lose focus. Even in times of impending mental trauma and confusion, his mind is objectively clear about his wants and desires.

Girl turns. Guy turns. Seconds late. She has seen him checking out her posterior.Here, for assumption's sake, let guy be X and girl be Y.

Y: X?..X?..X!!.

Lesson 2: The girl never loses being the equivalent of Muammar Gaddafi in a relationship. She in fact, misses the status quo and tries to set the record straight. Just in case.

X: Hey. Y? Y. Didn't see you. Yeaaah. It wasn't you who I was seeing. That melon could have been anybody's. So how have you been? Long time. No. Don't look down. Look into her eyes dammit!! Not there. No! WOAAAHH!! NAAIICE. I missed you two easter bunnies all right. NO!! IN HER EYES. Yes. Good.


Lesson 3: Clarity of thoughts. Guys think in a linear progression. Predictable. 

Y: Been good yea. Look at him. So depraved. Thank God I broke up. Lusting at my back and now right in front. Been caught up in some work so couldn't get through to you. Been wanting to talk to you for quite a while. What a guy. Uff!!!


Lesson 4: Girls were born with the gene of multi-tasking, thinking something and saying something else entirely. Kudos!!

X: Yea right. Was in a relationship with you so I do understand what you actually mean now. What you mean is that you want me back. Ha!! What work? Office or something. EYES Dammit EYES!!..Look 
straight.


Lesson 5: Guys can't understand what going on in your mind. For guys, until you break it down, your thoughts and your words are the same. Guys were born without the EQ gene.

Y:Just here and there. Yea Office too. I should get going. Too many thoughts coming up. Listen I gotta go. Wish we were still together. He is still adorable in his innocence. Aaawwww!! Will catch you later. Cya. Bbye.


Lesson 6: Flash from Justice League once tried racing against the oscillation of a girl's thoughts. He lost. So did Rajnikanth.


The last bit was lost on the guy since he was lost somewhere. Just like all of us guys are now and then when it comes to girls. Our ending of 'now' coincides with the beginning of 'then'. Vicious Circle!!


P.S.- Just an observation ladies. Don't get all judge-mental. Drop me a line. Cheerio!!..;)

Concocting A Career.

I am an engineering student and if history and being vouched for by "word-of-mouth" is anything to go by, engineering students are a frustrated lot. Crazy work hours and asinine professors bent on screwing with your career is the common sight/plight for us. Maybe the medical profession comes a close second with their indelible predicament of studying the human anatomy and whatnot to conquer "MBBS" and then specializing in a field for Masters degree and consequently fighting it out with the "your-friendly-neighbourhood-doc" tag. Yea, it's a tough world out there so we know.

So apart from the most sought after fields which are the godforsaken "Engineer" and "Doctor" tags, we have a host of options like C.A and ummmm, aaaaaa, uuummmmm, hang on. Here's where you come in Mr/Ms. Career Counsellor. In a bloated, claustrophobic environment such as India's where the parents force-feed their kids everything from Complan and Horlicks to H.C Verma and dancing and karate lessons, the child's encumbered by his desires against the rant of a totalitarian society.

A Career Counsellor is the person who sits down with the adolescent and gauges his/her abilities via cognitive ability tests and personality assessment. S/He acts as an intermediary to what the adolescent has and what his active potential could be if harnessed. They most typically have a background in vocational psychology or organizational psychology. Even though this career is still in it's nascent stages in India, there will be an outright increase in the demand for career counsellors as parental pressure fluctuates and children battle it out over career choices that are tailor-made for them and not dictated by the norms and dreams of society and their parents.

Nowadays, as work satisfaction slowly but steadily takes over the desire to climb the corporate ladder at any cost, hordes of professionals are taking the plunge into what they truly believe in, work that they enjoy. For taking such a move, they need expert guidance and a mindset to leave a stable job and jump with or without a 'chute. Here too, career counsellors plays a vital role in categorically breaking down the vital and realistic chances of prancing into that world where they want to be in. A Career Counsellor needs to be well versed and have a clear understanding of aptitudes, abilities and resources so as to realistically assess the chances and prospects in a given line of work while directing someone. The framework within which a career counsellor has to work requires tremendous skill and willingness to learn about a person's strentghs, pros and cons before giving a decision on a career choice. 

  

Otherwise, there will hardly be any difference between the inane astrologer who lets his parrot pick a tarot and the counselor who just charges a bigger amount to decide your future.

Decoy Trojan..

The art of writing is a tiresome habit of indulgence. Giving sentences coherence can however, become a habit in disguise. However, what occupies my mind currently is the concept of "Wikileaks", "Cosmetic Democracy", "26/11 and Kasab". I would, with my limited rendition of the concept of democracy on the whole, will try to delve into all 3 and link them to the broader spectrum.

It's imperative for us to ask what's idealistic and what can be realistically expected from the government in a democracy. The concept of "By the people, Of the people and For the people" is passe. It wouldn't be far-fetched to assume that each government is motivated sectionally by self-preservation and largely by the incentive of staying in power and this stay in power can only be achieved when civilians believe en masse that the tax they are paying is being used in a manner befitting the stature they are conferred upon when politicians come begging for votes before elections. Anything lower than that would be the country "visible" development and mostly they are ok with that too. Eventuality for any government is to interfere in people's scheme of things and this is where the dichotomy reigns supreme. A good government is said to be the one which governs the least. However, if you don't govern you don't justify your position of power. This is where the concept of a "Cosmetic Democracy" comes in, which I will come to later.

The Ruling government has two fundamental problems at any stage- Expectations of people and "THE OPPOSITION". The last term is what keeps a democracy acutely steadfast in it's portrayal of being a voice of the people. Without a strong opposition, a government's functionality is as good as corroded. Herein again lies the concept of what extent of opposition to a government's policies or acts is really justified or deemed prudent of public view. The catch is that the govenment is accountable and the public is fickle. No amount of semantics can delay the inevitability of a government expose that went a step too far in issues pertaining to security of the nation. That's precisely the reason why a Julian Assange is tormented into submission because his exposition reflects the dark underbelly of secrecy that shrouds half the government field operations.

The concept of Wikileaks has to be handled deftly and with care. Making Assange a scapegoat or targeting him into submission can propel the citizens of the world into thinking him to be a real-life messaih of truth. That is definitely not the case here. What I view is a clear incision between two relatively unconnected plots of Democracy and a riotous exposition of classified documents. There are some things the public is better off not knowing and this is what Assange and his cronies failed to realize. No government in this world is a safe haven for it's bureaucrats and diplomats. Yet, every nation greets it's counterpart with a fake honesty bordering on the obsolete. This is called "International Affairs" and it needs the fake smile and dishonest handshake to keep it from falling into chaos. Wikileaks has disturbed that balance by acting as an unruly "OPPOSITION" which is far from what the public needs to know. An opposition should know what to oppose while Wikileaks simply doesn't understand that concept, giving it a double-edged potency which makes it a cosmetic democracy because the government is powerless to stop the crumbling order.

Heading home, we have a man caught on camera gunning down 166 people with his accomplices. We have a body of evidence against him. We have a "rarest-of-rare" case against him. He should be hanged beyond doubt and this is not an emotional outburst. Yet, we give him a right to appeal against a judicial judgement INSPITE of the fact that the kind of evidence we possess and his own acceptance on camera about carrying out 26/11. Question is, does this beast even have a right to life? Yes he does because we live in a cosmetic democracy parading as the world's largest democracy, A democracy where the people's wants come at the bottom of the ladder. A democracy which is psedo-secular but acts as secular. A democracy of 1.1 billion unable to defend itself.


What is the functional unit of a democracy?
Citizen.
Who is a citizen?
Tax-Payer. Period.

The World As I Know It..

It's not a perfect world, but it's the only one I have. It's not the pain but the journey that I have. It's not the end but the effort that I have. What do I have? Ghanta. What do I care? Ghanta. Forgive my narcissism for I have devoted 3 lines to my wandering, torn mind. There are times in life when you have a single blocked nose and then there are times when both your noses are blocked. It's called Viral Flu. Apparently, 'they' still haven't found a cure for it but just this morning, I read that 'they' discovered in a breakthrough  "that students would rather cheat than study". DUH!! That's such a discovery man. Cure for the world yeah. However, why am I raving on like a lunatic exactly?? Yeah. Just had my mid-semester exams you see.

As I must have mentioned somewhere earlier in my blogs, I don' t like exams. They remind me of everything that's wrong with the world. The pain, the suffering, the misery. No student should be made a model out of for what to avoid being in your life. Yea I agree that if you can't set examples, you could be a decent warning but that's a personal thing isn't it?? Like scratching your crotch in full-public view. A personal thing. Like the T-Shirt the whole world says doesn't suit you but you still wear it 'coz your brother or sister gifted it with his/her first salary. Personal thing.

My college is a gathering for unbridled buffoons who carry the tag of Professors. They are unified in their mental faculties and reasoning capacities. They are men of the world who don't know how the world thinks. Time passed them when they were busy navel-scratching behind the secrecy of their rooms while carelessly marking the graffiti students had scrawled on their answer sheets. Consequently, with their thinning hair and sneer, they resemble almost everything that's wrong with the world. The dredges of human race who would rather sneer than share.


Do I sound frustrated? Comment to let me know on a scale of 1-10..;)
 Peace!!

Overdone Stew..

The consensus is waiting. The house is still divided about the raging caste debate in the Indian Parliament. Caste has to be addressed, according to the "waiting-to-be-uplifted" voice of the nation. The opposition to this Bill says that it's going to set India back by some decades. Casteism, after independence was abolished owing to the forward mindset of the house that thought that such a frivolous and dormant issue such as this has to be kept to stew. And stew it has over the last half a century.


The Bill addresses the issue of a caste divide that exists in India and "maybe" will work towards actually uplifting them.However, what happens to the minorities? Muslims of the secular India. Christians. Buddhists. An overview is required. Caste created barriers, divides across the strata of society according to the forming brains of our Constitution. In an eventful 60 years, amendments were introduced in bits and pieces, some reforming and some restraining, some formative and some plain ones. However, even though no one addresses that castes exist, all it needs for an introspection is to have a look at the matrimonial section of a newspaper. Castes sell, at prices higher than when Adi Sankaracharya bought Hinduism back into vogue, and with it a torrent of luscious parade of Brahmins, Kshatriyas, Vaishyas and Shudras.

If there's a difference in how a person travels, what he eats, how he is addressed and the company he keeps after a time, it's bound that there is a factor that drives. Posto Facto, what is it? Caste. Creed. Religion. What happens when we decide to address the issue and turn our backs to the repercussions of the domino effect it will have? What happens next?

What we need to actually introspect about is the dilemma that faces us in the form of castes right now. And what happens if the government suddenly decides that castes exist well and good and we take them into consideration but no socio-economic improvement for the minorities. What happens next? Kill Bill -III??...;) It's a Catch-22 situation and I don't prefer when we monopolize a side without weighing the pitfalls of the society. However, I also don't like to be in a situation where sidestepping and yet taking a decision is the only viable option left.

Cheers to prosperity!!

Of Happy Certifiable Intoxication..;)

This is a sensitive blog, and I had to dig hard and deep to find out a part of me that's as tender as a cooked leg piece of Butter Chicken. Like I said, it's a sensitive blog and most people are just eons away from feeling the raw pull of the gravitational field of my cranky yet soft predisposition. Frankly speaking, I don't even know what I just wrote meant so forgive me and God will forgive you for reading this blog.


Paradoxes exist in life as we all know and no offence to all the voracious readers and intellectual folksy out there because your cerebral capabilities might be more enceinte than the rest of us but the rest are more emotionally capable of handling life's bitter truths than you all are. Well, I don't belong to either of the groups so I'm just a keen observer watching people better equipped and adept and handling life passing me by...;) I don't enjoy it but that's what I'm good at and I plan to turn this handicap into an asset in the future. I don't exactly know how but the moment I figure it out, I'm going to patent it and sell it at a loss to all the ill-equipped people of this world since the intelligent and the emotional will have no need of it. Most probably they will all be frustrated engineers from undisclosed colleges and walks of life.


You know what I have noticed with my limited intelligence and negative IQ test results in hand? Vijay Mallya and ITC live off us man. I mean not ITC optimally but the "Gold Flakes" division is freaking living off us engineers man. So the ITC employees live life "king-size" and Vijay Mallya lives life "pint-size". That's a lot selling sour grapes for a living man. The jackal from the fable of "Jackal and grapes" won't be pleased 'coz he got there first. But just 'coz Vijay Mallya had the resources he beat him to being a billionaire. And the grapes won't be pleased too u know and to this day they are angry coz Mallya uses them without any returns. You know what hangovers are? They are the wrath of grapes essentially at some primitive level...;)


I mean yes, people used to anticipate happiness earlier in life but looking at the skies, expecting the Gods to descend to extend felicity to them. Then, some Homo Sapien(by the way, I do puzzle now and then why we call ourselves that. I mean, not all of us are that you know..;) realized that you can get a better degree of relatively more costly happiness via a bottle of inebriant at the local bar. From here began a condescending journey for the content man who thought the world should share his happiness, and he went shouting in the streets that "thodi si jo peeli hain, chori toh nahin ki hain..zoozoooooyodelliiiyodellleeeyoooo...".The world would patronize the poor helpless man slandering him till the man would pass out of pure happiness, and since the saying goes-"Happiness is short-lived", the man would unfortunately remember zilch of his previous night's happiness and the world would accuse him in the morning 'coz they were all hoarders and had nothing better to do than malign the man with venom and bad names. Cruel cruel world.


I'm not wrong. If you think I'm wrong you are the unhappy one...zooozzooooyodelliyodellliyooooo!!!

HOLMES AND WATSON ARE BACCCKK!!...

Yea every1..the supersleuth at 221B Baker Street immortalized by his crooked nose and wry demeanour is back with his faithful ally Dr. Watson in Guy Ritchie's translation to the cinematic medium..and boy do they kick ass!!

Now, I'm kinda partial to Sherlock Holmes. Partly 'coz his investigative capabilities rival only that of Inspector Clouseau's which I'm sure is no comparison at all. What Sir Arthur Conan Doyle so vividly brought to our imagination was that of a man with an intellect so keen that it rebels at stagnation, at the indignation of not being put to use. The frequent drug abuse by Holmes when not confronted with an active brain stimulus can only deeply impress upon the desperation of the sleuth for crime. As Inspector Lestrade admirably puts it in a story when Holmes and Watson cleanly break into a house by picking the lock:-"I fear to think about the possibility of you on the other side of law." and all Holmes does is smile, his wry dry sardonic smile. Such was the connoisseur of crime.


Now, you get the drift that I do like Sherlock Holmes a lot and the expectations will always be kinda loaded if anyone even dares to recreate or attempts to captures Holmes's aura onscreen. However, I decided to go watch the movie without any expectations. I wanted to be pleasantly surprised and yes I did come back with 180 bucks well-spent. Now let me come to the movie. Guy Ritchie is the genre where rock 'n' roll movies are made, movies with pumping adrenalin and geysers of blood spraying out of limbs. Thankfully, this movie of his is layered and restrained, an almost monumental task when thinking about Guy Ritchie's kinda movies.

Robert Downey Jr. as Sherlock Holmes excels, displaying a class of surprisingly equivocal exhibition of acting, a top-notch credibility last seen from him in "Kiss Kiss Bang Bang". His interpretation of Sherlock Holmes's antics is vivid, and he displays a rare emotional depth in his scenes with Watson's impending departure from 221B Baker Street to get married to Mary Watson.

Dr. Watson, played by Jude Law is accentually and figuratively British, and Law displays a fine skill of holding back in terms of lambasting Holmes's never ending cycle of crazy experiments. His eyes show a maturity which convey Holmes's and his bond which he perennially breaks and forges, much to the displeasure of his future wife, who incidentally hates Holmes's guts.

A high preference of script is given to the banter between Sherlock Holmes and Watson and the two show a remarkably good chemistry which is a highlight of the movie. Rachel McAdams plays a female vixen, who is commissioned to obtain information from Sherlock Holmes by using him, but falls for him instad. Her deft use of mouth, hands, feet and disposable knives is a tremendous achievment in Victorian era England. The screenplay uses ample special effects to depict 18th century England and succeeds.

The script revolves around Lord Blackwell, played here by Mark Strong who pitches in a decent performance as the shrewd manipulator who practices black magic in a scourging attempt to gain control over the city by rigging the reigning Lords by fear. He partially has success before Holmes thwarts his attempts to reign over the city in a culmination of fist-pumping, throat-ripping sequences that has top-end special effects of a fight sequence on top of the London Bridge under construction in 1880. The ending leaves enough space for the grand entry of Professor Moriarty, Sherlock Holmes's arch nemesis in the forthcoming sequel which promises to pitt Holmes against his adversary in a raging bullfight.


My review is a 3.5/5 for this movie. Go check it out coz the movie's worth it.





P.S.- Don't go looking for Oscar-worthy performances in this movie and you'll do just fine. Remember, for a Guy Ritchie movie, this is a good watch for he has managed to tone it down by quite a few degrees. Go enjoy this enjoyable caper and watch out for the Holmes-Watson bonding.

The Marriage and the symphony.

Regardless of what I've been through in my public and personal life with the galfolk of this world, I stand undone today. A bizarre mix of heady grass and whiskey aside, I haven't had a sincere and pragmatic laugh in quite a while.


Now fellas, I'm stuck, wrong word, I'm over at a wedding in Calcutta and I am surrounded by girls of all sizes with a common desire- to outdo the bride's dressing herself at the D-Day. The only reason I find it funny is 'coz I have observed their histrionics and I was with coupla guys my age. Oh, n yea we were passing a cigarette amongst ourselves while discussing this phenomenon. However, I will recount my personal observations to the fore. Kindly comment on this blog coz this is a genuinely remarkable phenomenon without any hindrance of race, creed, caste, or colour. And it tickles men of all age to the same degree.



So, the marriage is tomorrow i.e on the 21st of January 2010 at some godforsaken time. Another male lamb will be sacrificed in the holy altar of life and bound to stare at the wall and talk aimlessly in the coming years. However, the mistake has already been committed so let's not dwell on that but go to why the female population loves marriages more than their counterparts.


As I observed, the discussion on wearing clothes started 3 days back in full swing. 2 days back they concluded that they will be wearing clothes. Now came the toughest part, the most momentous task of all, the task which would pale Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay's efforts to scale Everest. "WHAT DO WE WEAR?"- they cry in unison. The cry reverberates throughout the room and we guys shrink back into the darkest place in large room. They might charge at us in their anger for having only 270 dresses to choose from. That's life girls, really unjust. I am only a human being but I can hardly try to delve into this disturbing pattern of unified grief amongst the females for having only just enough dresses to dress up Vatican's inhabitants.



However, they start off with renewed vigour, ticking off dresses as unsuitable for (amongst many reasons)
1.)being too old at 3 months
2.)being a shade too black
3.)can't bring out the colour off my eyes
4.)doesn't match the colour of my new hair shade and mascara which go along fantastically

I'm jaded so I leave. It freaks me out that people have to match eye colours with dresses, bangles, eye shade, lip gloss and footwear. Oh yea, the footwear is a different story altogether. I'm sure I heard a girl complain, crushed, that her 2 weeks old stiletto she bought for the wedding was now unfit 'coz she had seen the same on some other girl. I tried to ask her the logic which connected these two seperate incidents. She glanced at me and giggled away and finally said something which I heard was-"It's wedinbudhuso ehehehe samshoe heeheheh can'tondifrntpeiple hehahaheh..."



I came, I saw, I scampered.









P.S.- Tomorrow's the wedding. Pray for the groom. I did.









P.S.S.- I heard a voice laugh from above. Guess it was Shiva. He was high on Bhang too and was doing tandava . Apparently he thought my request was funny and laughed. I apologise for praying for the groom. Sorry, Shiva.

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...