I've been trying to post for a long time. I have 3 drafts which make some sense, but I'm not going to publish. You could call it an effect of taking the Literature course in the 7th sem. I realised how pathetic I am at writing. As such, I'm trying to do better.
The 7th semester is nearing its end. One more after this and I'll be out of IIIT. Into the big, bad world. This comfortable, laidback life will soon come to end. I will, of course, try to resist change. But the odds don't seem to be in my favour.
To be frank, I've been waiting to get out of here. It is quite strange. During my last year in school it was the same. I just wanted to get out. Now I feel I had a great time in school. Probably, the best in my life. Maybe I will feel the same about IIIT some years later.
But wait. This post wasn't meant to be a pseudo-senti one. This was meant to be an oh-fuck-i-am-screwed! post. In a moment of madness, I registered for the DIP course. Owing to my suicidal stubbornness, I did not drop the course when I had the chance. And now, here I am, crying over spilled milk after being totally pwned by each and every exam in the course. This might just be the first F on my already unimpressive gradesheet. I'm on the verge of doing something really desperate.
I've already started a chain mail. It should reach you very soon. Google is tracking it. For every reader it reaches, 0.01 marks will be added to my end sem score. I hope to reach the passing mark this way. So if you receive a mail with subject, "Do not delete, please help him save his degree, very important!!!!!", please do forward it to everyone in your contact list. Especially all those who forward me those "Be careful with AIDS infected needles in theatres", "Jai Maata Di", "Help child victim of super bhayankar dangerous disease" mails. Please!
May the force be with me.
Thursday, November 01, 2007
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Why does the geyser take so long?
Yes, you are here. And you will read this right till the end because somewhere in this post I'm going to mention Bipasha Basu.
I'm hooked to this band. Don't know what the hell that name means. These days my playlist oscillates between CCR and Pearl Jam. The latter's lyrics are particularly frustoo, but the songs are good. Don't ask why. This is not the English literature class. So I'm not going to explain WHY I like something.
I wisely took courses such that all my classes fall on 2 days of the week. So now I have this huge Sunday which lasts 5 days and 2 Mondays which are more annoying than they have ever been.
That gives me a lot of time to work on my BTP. The BTP! There is no light at the end of this tunnel. In fact, there's no end at all. It is like a dark circular tunnel and I've been running rounds.
Everybody in the wing has started playing. So have I. And I suck at it. I'm the biggest danger to my teammates, the master tk-er. I suck so badly that I play by the name jhand_khiladi. But I can't give up.
I finished watching all of Seinfeld that is there on the LAN. (Someone please download Part 2 of the finale and the missing episodes of the 4th season.) I totally loved the show. Especially all the hot girlfriends Jerry gets. I hate Elaine. Actually, in the beginning, she was my favourite character. But later she got too annoying. And Geroge is so un-cool! But I like that character too. Or should I say, identify with him? We do have things in common.
If you haven't seen it yet, giddy up!
Well, that's it. You came here for Bipasha Basu? Sorry, you have been taken for a ride.
Creedence Clearwater Revival
I'm hooked to this band. Don't know what the hell that name means. These days my playlist oscillates between CCR and Pearl Jam. The latter's lyrics are particularly frustoo, but the songs are good. Don't ask why. This is not the English literature class. So I'm not going to explain WHY I like something.
2 working days
I wisely took courses such that all my classes fall on 2 days of the week. So now I have this huge Sunday which lasts 5 days and 2 Mondays which are more annoying than they have ever been.
That gives me a lot of time to work on my BTP. The BTP! There is no light at the end of this tunnel. In fact, there's no end at all. It is like a dark circular tunnel and I've been running rounds.
CZ
Everybody in the wing has started playing. So have I. And I suck at it. I'm the biggest danger to my teammates, the master tk-er. I suck so badly that I play by the name jhand_khiladi. But I can't give up.
Seinfeld
I finished watching all of Seinfeld that is there on the LAN. (Someone please download Part 2 of the finale and the missing episodes of the 4th season.) I totally loved the show. Especially all the hot girlfriends Jerry gets. I hate Elaine. Actually, in the beginning, she was my favourite character. But later she got too annoying. And Geroge is so un-cool! But I like that character too. Or should I say, identify with him? We do have things in common.
If you haven't seen it yet, giddy up!
Well, that's it. You came here for Bipasha Basu? Sorry, you have been taken for a ride.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Updates
An year ago, I would have given a grand title to this post. I would've stood up and waved to accept the applause from all the readers of this blog. I would've given a speech saying how glad I am to be back after a fairly long break and how much I missed blogging and the readers.
But, I'm doing nothing of that sort. A part of the reason is the fairly obvious lack of readers who'd be willing to do the cheering and applauding. Instead, I'm wondering whether it would be appropriate to write an update post.
Now you might say that posting an update is like accepting defeat. You would have a valid point if you say that an update-worthy, interesting life, would leave little time to post updates.
When a blogger posts an update, he might be doing it to keep his blog alive. Then it is the same as the sad story of a struggling actor who ends up in the porn industry. Sometimes it might be a totally shameless i-have-nothing-to-blog-about-but-i-want-to-hence-this-update post. Such a post is no better than Himesh saying, "Yes, I sing through my nose. So what?". It is like one of his compositions.
But, we all know that both pornography and Himesh's albums, do great business. And there's nothing we can do about it. In fact, we can't afford to do anything to curb these things.
The blogosphere is built on the foundations of update posts. Someone tells us about how she threw a surprise birthday party for her husband, someone blogs about her six month old son, someone reviews his first month on a new job. And, to be frank, it isn't boring.
Here's to all the updaters of the blogosphere!
But, I'm doing nothing of that sort. A part of the reason is the fairly obvious lack of readers who'd be willing to do the cheering and applauding. Instead, I'm wondering whether it would be appropriate to write an update post.
Now you might say that posting an update is like accepting defeat. You would have a valid point if you say that an update-worthy, interesting life, would leave little time to post updates.
When a blogger posts an update, he might be doing it to keep his blog alive. Then it is the same as the sad story of a struggling actor who ends up in the porn industry. Sometimes it might be a totally shameless i-have-nothing-to-blog-about-but-i-want-to-hence-this-update post. Such a post is no better than Himesh saying, "Yes, I sing through my nose. So what?". It is like one of his compositions.
But, we all know that both pornography and Himesh's albums, do great business. And there's nothing we can do about it. In fact, we can't afford to do anything to curb these things.
The blogosphere is built on the foundations of update posts. Someone tells us about how she threw a surprise birthday party for her husband, someone blogs about her six month old son, someone reviews his first month on a new job. And, to be frank, it isn't boring.
Here's to all the updaters of the blogosphere!
Monday, June 25, 2007
The curious incident of the Mouse in the shoe
One of the disadvantages of wearing shoes for more than half the hours of the day is the fact that you have to pinch your nose when you take them off. Even a single stench carrying molecule finding its way to the sensors in your nose could wreak havoc on your olfactory system.
As such, much to the annoyance of my wingmates, I leave my shoes just outside the door in the corridor every night. To pick up the shoes every morning before I step out is among the most mundane and mechanical things I do during the day.
But today was different.
I was already late and in a hurry to reach daftar at lunch time. I don't like to miss free meals you see. So I pick up my shoes, bring them inside, wear socks and put my right foot inside the shoe. The darn foot doesn't go in fully.
"Damn it, I thought it stopped growing a long time back".
I push again and suddenly sense something inside.
"What is that? Lizard! Yuck! Take it off! YUUUCCCCKKKKKK!"
Shoe is lying on the ground. But nothing comes out.
"Ah, it's nothing. Probably just some little insect. Nothing worth all the hysterics. "
So, I invert the shoe, and lo! Guess who's peeping out? A mouse!
"Damn it! What the f***?! A f***ing mouse? Baahar nikal ********"
It comes out and makes a dash for the nearest corner instead of making a quick, peaceful exit through the door which is wide open. In a most innovative display of warfare tactic, it tries to shock the hell out of me by choosing the route between my legs.
And well, it succeeds. I jump up and down. Left foot in the air, now the right one. He dashes to the corner, I run out of the room.
But in a moment, I am back to my usual, brave self.
"I need a suitable weapon. A broom maybe." No broom in sight. Yes, that bottle of Thums Up lying under the chair could be of use. I tiptoe into the room so that I can catch it unawares and pick up the bottle. By now, it has taken a position of strategic advantage under the bed and on top of the bucket.
With one stroke of the bottle, I bring the bucket down. A good beginning, but it manages to hang on. Another blow and the enemy's on the run! It runs straight into the gap in the door.
I run after it with a war cry and strike the bottle on the ground right next to its tail. I had read somewhere that their tails can sense vibrations. I guess it was true. It immediately wriggles out of the room and makes a run for its life, towards the end of the corridor. The battle has been won.
I put on my shoes and walk out with a victorious smile.
As such, much to the annoyance of my wingmates, I leave my shoes just outside the door in the corridor every night. To pick up the shoes every morning before I step out is among the most mundane and mechanical things I do during the day.
But today was different.
I was already late and in a hurry to reach daftar at lunch time. I don't like to miss free meals you see. So I pick up my shoes, bring them inside, wear socks and put my right foot inside the shoe. The darn foot doesn't go in fully.
"Damn it, I thought it stopped growing a long time back".
I push again and suddenly sense something inside.
"What is that? Lizard! Yuck! Take it off! YUUUCCCCKKKKKK!"
Shoe is lying on the ground. But nothing comes out.
"Ah, it's nothing. Probably just some little insect. Nothing worth all the hysterics. "
So, I invert the shoe, and lo! Guess who's peeping out? A mouse!
"Damn it! What the f***?! A f***ing mouse? Baahar nikal ********"
It comes out and makes a dash for the nearest corner instead of making a quick, peaceful exit through the door which is wide open. In a most innovative display of warfare tactic, it tries to shock the hell out of me by choosing the route between my legs.
And well, it succeeds. I jump up and down. Left foot in the air, now the right one. He dashes to the corner, I run out of the room.
But in a moment, I am back to my usual, brave self.
"I need a suitable weapon. A broom maybe." No broom in sight. Yes, that bottle of Thums Up lying under the chair could be of use. I tiptoe into the room so that I can catch it unawares and pick up the bottle. By now, it has taken a position of strategic advantage under the bed and on top of the bucket.
With one stroke of the bottle, I bring the bucket down. A good beginning, but it manages to hang on. Another blow and the enemy's on the run! It runs straight into the gap in the door.
I run after it with a war cry and strike the bottle on the ground right next to its tail. I had read somewhere that their tails can sense vibrations. I guess it was true. It immediately wriggles out of the room and makes a run for its life, towards the end of the corridor. The battle has been won.
I put on my shoes and walk out with a victorious smile.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Jeans
I'm waiting for a code to compile. And it takes long enough for me to seriously start considering options to pass time. Blogging seems to be quite a good option.
So, I think about what to write. I swing my chair left and right, look at the pen, the cellphone (which is still quite new, and hence I actually notice it). I pocket my hands. Pockets of a jeans. Ah, that could be a topic!
me1:What? You'll write a post about jeans?
me2:Yes, why not. Seems like a pretty good idea.
me1:You mean this jeans you're wearing, or in general?
me2:No, in general.
me1:Write what about jeans? About how you totally enjoy wearing them, and all that crap?
me2:Yes. Why, only today I was talking to Billu about how I can't remember the last time I wasn't wearing one.
me1:Really? You don't?
me2:No. Not that I've been wearing them ever since I appeared on the face of the earth, but it certainly has been a long time.
In fact, I even remember the first time I bought one. I think it was my 8th birthday. I was super excited about the 5th pocket, the little one meant for keys (or is it for a condom?). I spent hours thinking what would be the ideal thing to carry in the pocket.
me1:You thought about carrying a condom in it at the age of 8?
me2:No, of course not. WTF?
me1:I don't really see a point for favouring jeans over normal pants...
me2:Well, the best reason I can think of is that you can wear them for as long as you want without washing, because it should be dirty.
me1:What's the longest you've gone wearing an unwashed jeans?
me2:Let's see... I think I went for about 20 days once, around the end sems in the 2nd semester. I was too busy studying, you see.
me1:Yeah, right. But 20 days? Man, yuck!
me2:That's nothing. Read about Hell's Angels and their Old Levi's.
You can basically do anything to your pair and it'll become the latest rage.
me1:I think that explains the bullet-hole trend and the auctions where old pairs are sold for as high as $100,000.
me2:Yes, but some of the recent trends are total bakwaas. I completely detest anything other than the straight fit. Those boot-cuts, low-rise, skeleton, faded are bullshit.
me1:See, you're just fashion unconscious and uncool. And you want to write about jeans.
me2:Okay, I'm uncool. But those artificially faded and skeleton jeans completely defeat the purpose. you're supposed to use a pair till it fades and then take pride in that fact that you faded them. And don't even get me started about the weird fits that are popular these days. Absolutely thoo!
me1:How can you say that? Don't you remember the wise words of the salesman in the shop who was trying to push concepts of latest trends in jeanswear down your throat? And about how your choice is totally uncle-like?
me2:Bollocks, what does he know about jeans?
me1:And you do?
me2:Yes.
me1:Yeah, right. That's why I tell you, don't write about this topic.
me2:Hmm, but maybe I can write about this little argument.
So, I think about what to write. I swing my chair left and right, look at the pen, the cellphone (which is still quite new, and hence I actually notice it). I pocket my hands. Pockets of a jeans. Ah, that could be a topic!
me1:What? You'll write a post about jeans?
me2:Yes, why not. Seems like a pretty good idea.
me1:You mean this jeans you're wearing, or in general?
me2:No, in general.
me1:Write what about jeans? About how you totally enjoy wearing them, and all that crap?
me2:Yes. Why, only today I was talking to Billu about how I can't remember the last time I wasn't wearing one.
me1:Really? You don't?
me2:No. Not that I've been wearing them ever since I appeared on the face of the earth, but it certainly has been a long time.
In fact, I even remember the first time I bought one. I think it was my 8th birthday. I was super excited about the 5th pocket, the little one meant for keys (or is it for a condom?). I spent hours thinking what would be the ideal thing to carry in the pocket.
me1:You thought about carrying a condom in it at the age of 8?
me2:No, of course not. WTF?
me1:I don't really see a point for favouring jeans over normal pants...
me2:Well, the best reason I can think of is that you can wear them for as long as you want without washing, because it should be dirty.
me1:What's the longest you've gone wearing an unwashed jeans?
me2:Let's see... I think I went for about 20 days once, around the end sems in the 2nd semester. I was too busy studying, you see.
me1:Yeah, right. But 20 days? Man, yuck!
me2:That's nothing. Read about Hell's Angels and their Old Levi's.
You can basically do anything to your pair and it'll become the latest rage.
me1:I think that explains the bullet-hole trend and the auctions where old pairs are sold for as high as $100,000.
me2:Yes, but some of the recent trends are total bakwaas. I completely detest anything other than the straight fit. Those boot-cuts, low-rise, skeleton, faded are bullshit.
me1:See, you're just fashion unconscious and uncool. And you want to write about jeans.
me2:Okay, I'm uncool. But those artificially faded and skeleton jeans completely defeat the purpose. you're supposed to use a pair till it fades and then take pride in that fact that you faded them. And don't even get me started about the weird fits that are popular these days. Absolutely thoo!
me1:How can you say that? Don't you remember the wise words of the salesman in the shop who was trying to push concepts of latest trends in jeanswear down your throat? And about how your choice is totally uncle-like?
me2:Bollocks, what does he know about jeans?
me1:And you do?
me2:Yes.
me1:Yeah, right. That's why I tell you, don't write about this topic.
me2:Hmm, but maybe I can write about this little argument.
Sunday, May 06, 2007
A movie / A wedding / The Channel / The Deal / The Mission
Spiderman 3 hit theatres in India. No, I did not watch it. Hence, this is not a review post. This is not even a post trying to gather junta to go and watch it with me. I have no plans of watching the movie.
Well, unless you can arrange for the Bhojpuri dubbed version. Who can resist power packed, spitfire dialogues like this one:
"Hum makad maanav hain, ud kar aayab aur tohar tetuwa dabaa deb."
Sheer brilliance!
I hope they also the come up with some title good enough to match "Ek Bandar Hotel ke Andar". How does "Makad Maanav, Bhagaaye Daanav" sound?
-----------------------------------------------------------
The Abhishek-Aishwarya wedding finally happened. After all the talk about Aishwarya being a Martian and being made to marry a tree and a bush and what not, to wash off the Mars effect. The public hysteria about the whole wedding was quite ridiculous. And even the media went into a full-throttle mode. Whether it was the insanely stupid Aaj Tak style coverage of the event, or the in-depth analysis and criticism of how it was a demeaning affair for the ladies in the Bachchan household, and to Aishwarya herself, and to women in general.
I don't understand, what's the big deal? Why so much attention? A wedding, who cares?
-----------------------------------------------------------
Another disturbing piece of news was the ban on FTV. That explains why Billu spent most of his time at home sleeping.
Suddenly, I feel nostalgic about the times I spent watching those lingerie (didn't even know how to pronounce the word then, bloody French) and Pirelli calendar shows with my senses on high alert to prevent the embarrassment of being caught while watching the forbidden channel. Channels like Trendz came and went, but FTV will always be FTV.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Microsoft planning to buy out Yahoo! (for 50 billion dollars!), Rupert Murdoch trying to buy out Dow Jones, some other company trying to buy Reuters' agency, Anchor switches bought by Matsushita, how could I be left behind?
I bought an All-Out machine to keep the blood sucking monsters at bay.
Right, bad joke.
-----------------------------------------------------------
I'm on "Mission IMDB Top 250" these days. I'm not planning to watch all 250, just trying to get my count up to 100. 28 more to go. So, without wasting any more time, I shall start watching 'Double Indemnity'.
Well, unless you can arrange for the Bhojpuri dubbed version. Who can resist power packed, spitfire dialogues like this one:
"Hum makad maanav hain, ud kar aayab aur tohar tetuwa dabaa deb."
Sheer brilliance!
I hope they also the come up with some title good enough to match "Ek Bandar Hotel ke Andar". How does "Makad Maanav, Bhagaaye Daanav" sound?
-----------------------------------------------------------
The Abhishek-Aishwarya wedding finally happened. After all the talk about Aishwarya being a Martian and being made to marry a tree and a bush and what not, to wash off the Mars effect. The public hysteria about the whole wedding was quite ridiculous. And even the media went into a full-throttle mode. Whether it was the insanely stupid Aaj Tak style coverage of the event, or the in-depth analysis and criticism of how it was a demeaning affair for the ladies in the Bachchan household, and to Aishwarya herself, and to women in general.
I don't understand, what's the big deal? Why so much attention? A wedding, who cares?
-----------------------------------------------------------
Another disturbing piece of news was the ban on FTV. That explains why Billu spent most of his time at home sleeping.
Suddenly, I feel nostalgic about the times I spent watching those lingerie (didn't even know how to pronounce the word then, bloody French) and Pirelli calendar shows with my senses on high alert to prevent the embarrassment of being caught while watching the forbidden channel. Channels like Trendz came and went, but FTV will always be FTV.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Microsoft planning to buy out Yahoo! (for 50 billion dollars!), Rupert Murdoch trying to buy out Dow Jones, some other company trying to buy Reuters' agency, Anchor switches bought by Matsushita, how could I be left behind?
I bought an All-Out machine to keep the blood sucking monsters at bay.
Right, bad joke.
-----------------------------------------------------------
I'm on "Mission IMDB Top 250" these days. I'm not planning to watch all 250, just trying to get my count up to 100. 28 more to go. So, without wasting any more time, I shall start watching 'Double Indemnity'.
Sunday, April 01, 2007
I want to post...
...but I have nothing on my mind. What a hopeless situation I'm in!
So with complete disregard to the readers' mental health and well-being, I'm going to go ahead and write this update post.
So with complete disregard to the readers' mental health and well-being, I'm going to go ahead and write this update post.
- Been struggling with work. My productivity graph (which has always been a modest one), is achieving greater depths. No progress in the whole of last week.
- Finally finished reading 'The Motorcycle Diaries'. It took almost 3 months. Quite acceptable given that I read it only in the very interesting WDKM classes. I read some chapters twice or thrice, because I forgot that I had already read them.
- Finished watching Rome. I didn't watch the whole 2nd season in a single, long slog like I did for the 1st. This one had a lot more gore and nudity. But, a brilliant historical series.
- Both BTP vivas for this semester went okay, I think. Not many questions were asked by the panel. Don't know whether that is good or bad.
- India crashing out of the WC didn't cause me any sorrow. I remember watching every single match of WC 96. I even maintained a nicely decorated book keeping a record of all the matches back then. I'd followed the tournament quite closely in 2003 also. Thanks mostly to Mandira Bedi and her noodle straps. But this year, with her extra pounds beginning to become a little too apparent, I had little interest left.
- End sems approaching, course project deadline approaching, assignment deadline approaching. 6th sem is almost over!
- Batch trip next month!
- Karaoke night on campus. Not sure what it is exactly all about. Let me go take a look.
Friday, March 23, 2007
Tag, really.
A living person I would like to meet:
Just one meeting wouldn't be of any great use. Fed can't teach me any tennis in one meeting, and neither do I see any realistic chances of 'getting lucky' with Elisha Cuthbert on our first and only date. So, it might as well be someone who will be fun to talk to, maybe Jerry Seinfeld.
A dead person I would like to meet:
Ekta Kapoor, after I've killed her. I would enjoy killing her again.
An event in history I would like to change:
I would like to change the day I conducted the school assembly without realising that my zipper was open.
You say this isn't history? Well, I say this isn't a question for a tag.
A movie I would like to witness in real:
"The Motorcycle Diaries", as Alberto Granado. I think he had much more fun than Che.
A literary character I would like to meet:
Do Penthouse letters qualify to be called literature? If yes, then I would like to meet the Loving Nurse.
Otherwise, Karla Saranen from Shantaram will have to do. In fact, even Dr.Watson would be fine.
And now the part where I pass on the goodies to others:
Neon (or Dr.SafetyFirst, as he calls himself)
GKay, can I turn this into something like an infinite recursive function call? Tag-back the person who has tagged you, and then he tags you again, and it goes on... till one of you dies (or alternatively one deletes his blog).
Just one meeting wouldn't be of any great use. Fed can't teach me any tennis in one meeting, and neither do I see any realistic chances of 'getting lucky' with Elisha Cuthbert on our first and only date. So, it might as well be someone who will be fun to talk to, maybe Jerry Seinfeld.
A dead person I would like to meet:
Ekta Kapoor, after I've killed her. I would enjoy killing her again.
An event in history I would like to change:
I would like to change the day I conducted the school assembly without realising that my zipper was open.
You say this isn't history? Well, I say this isn't a question for a tag.
A movie I would like to witness in real:
"The Motorcycle Diaries", as Alberto Granado. I think he had much more fun than Che.
A literary character I would like to meet:
Do Penthouse letters qualify to be called literature? If yes, then I would like to meet the Loving Nurse.
Otherwise, Karla Saranen from Shantaram will have to do. In fact, even Dr.Watson would be fine.
And now the part where I pass on the goodies to others:
Neon (or Dr.SafetyFirst, as he calls himself)
GKay, can I turn this into something like an infinite recursive function call? Tag-back the person who has tagged you, and then he tags you again, and it goes on... till one of you dies (or alternatively one deletes his blog).
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Tag!
I had started contemplating a post about how I am completely falling short of ideas to blog about.
I'm not following the World Cup, I haven't read the newspaper in ages, I don't have enough background information to write about the internet ban in IIT-B, I haven't watched any great movie, even the time I spend listening to music has reduced drastically, I don't know what happens in classes since I'm never awake there, my grades are miserable enough to prevent me from mentioning them, I haven't managed to finish a single book since January. What am I supposed to do?
In times of such great despair, of such dire need for topics to blog about, the only hope which keeps a desperate blogger from deleting his blog in an uncontrollable fit of frustration, is a tag. All you have to do, is a little blog-hopping, find a blog where someone has been kind enough to pass it on to 'anyone who is willing' (read 'all you jobless f***s out there!'), complete the tag and post it!
But, just when you start feeling all cheery and optimistic about your blog's future, everyone in the blogosphere decides to be very choosy and specific about the people they tag. They waste their tags on bloggers who have either stopped posting or who have long been dead. Some of them even decide not to pass it on to anyone. It is gone, even before you could lay your hands on it! Like the ice-cream at a wedding dinner.
The wait goes on. Every time you read someone else's tag post, the song "aaega aane waala" starts playing in your mind. You give up all shame and start posting stupider comments on exceptionally stupid posts. You consult a pandit and plan a 'tag-siddhi pooja' on the 3rd amavasya of the shravan maas and even make arrangements for giving special daan to all the fellow blogger yajmaans, to satisfy all gods of blogdom.
And finally the day of salvation arrives. You scroll down, with bated breath to the part where the fortunate tag recipients are mentioned on someone's post. Your name is there! You rub your eyes in disbelief. After confirming that it is indeed you, who as been tagged, you run out into the corridor shouting, "ooparwaale ne meri sun li!". You start hugging all wingmates and even people you've never met before, exactly the way it was done on numerous occasions in Ramanand Sagar's Krishna.
And then you sit down to complete the tag, your heart skipping many-a-beat, getting impatient to hit the publish button. It is at this precise moment that you realise that you can't think of answers that are interesting enough to do justice to this brilliant opportunity.
That's what happened to me when I tried to complete GKay's tag. Maybe some other time, hopefully in the near future, when my neurons are feeling less lethargic. Till then, why don't you read my previous masterpieces?
I'm not following the World Cup, I haven't read the newspaper in ages, I don't have enough background information to write about the internet ban in IIT-B, I haven't watched any great movie, even the time I spend listening to music has reduced drastically, I don't know what happens in classes since I'm never awake there, my grades are miserable enough to prevent me from mentioning them, I haven't managed to finish a single book since January. What am I supposed to do?
In times of such great despair, of such dire need for topics to blog about, the only hope which keeps a desperate blogger from deleting his blog in an uncontrollable fit of frustration, is a tag. All you have to do, is a little blog-hopping, find a blog where someone has been kind enough to pass it on to 'anyone who is willing' (read 'all you jobless f***s out there!'), complete the tag and post it!
But, just when you start feeling all cheery and optimistic about your blog's future, everyone in the blogosphere decides to be very choosy and specific about the people they tag. They waste their tags on bloggers who have either stopped posting or who have long been dead. Some of them even decide not to pass it on to anyone. It is gone, even before you could lay your hands on it! Like the ice-cream at a wedding dinner.
The wait goes on. Every time you read someone else's tag post, the song "aaega aane waala" starts playing in your mind. You give up all shame and start posting stupider comments on exceptionally stupid posts. You consult a pandit and plan a 'tag-siddhi pooja' on the 3rd amavasya of the shravan maas and even make arrangements for giving special daan to all the fellow blogger yajmaans, to satisfy all gods of blogdom.
And finally the day of salvation arrives. You scroll down, with bated breath to the part where the fortunate tag recipients are mentioned on someone's post. Your name is there! You rub your eyes in disbelief. After confirming that it is indeed you, who as been tagged, you run out into the corridor shouting, "ooparwaale ne meri sun li!". You start hugging all wingmates and even people you've never met before, exactly the way it was done on numerous occasions in Ramanand Sagar's Krishna.
And then you sit down to complete the tag, your heart skipping many-a-beat, getting impatient to hit the publish button. It is at this precise moment that you realise that you can't think of answers that are interesting enough to do justice to this brilliant opportunity.
That's what happened to me when I tried to complete GKay's tag. Maybe some other time, hopefully in the near future, when my neurons are feeling less lethargic. Till then, why don't you read my previous masterpieces?
Sunday, March 04, 2007
Glimpses on a lazy day
The construction worker's kid playing on the felled tree. Pure joy.
A Bajaj Pulsar going at an unbelievably high speed. Its rider weighs at least 150kg.
The durbaan says "Thank you, Sir" as we walk out of the restaurant. I should thank him for sparing the salute.
A drunkard sleeping on the road in the hot sun. No daaru this month. Had a little too much in February.
A really pretty Firang babe. Extremely attractive, to the extent that I take the stairs instead of the elevator so as to get a direct look.
A taxi driver swinging in his seat to 'wo ladki bahut yaad aati hai'. A few seconds later I find myself humming the same song. Damn!
A bunch of fellows drenched in colours. Somehow it evens out the differences between people.
A squashed rose in the middle of the street. Only a fortnight was enough for it to lose all value.
Another kid, in a lemon yellow frock. Reminds me of bygone days. 12 years suddenly feels like a very short time.
A Bajaj Pulsar going at an unbelievably high speed. Its rider weighs at least 150kg.
The durbaan says "Thank you, Sir" as we walk out of the restaurant. I should thank him for sparing the salute.
A drunkard sleeping on the road in the hot sun. No daaru this month. Had a little too much in February.
A really pretty Firang babe. Extremely attractive, to the extent that I take the stairs instead of the elevator so as to get a direct look.
A taxi driver swinging in his seat to 'wo ladki bahut yaad aati hai'. A few seconds later I find myself humming the same song. Damn!
A bunch of fellows drenched in colours. Somehow it evens out the differences between people.
A squashed rose in the middle of the street. Only a fortnight was enough for it to lose all value.
Another kid, in a lemon yellow frock. Reminds me of bygone days. 12 years suddenly feels like a very short time.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Things I did on Valentine's Day
Alright people, this might turn out to be a very useless post for you readers. This is more like a post so that I can record a great day.
1. Got up at 6 o'clock. That's a monumental achievement! this happened for the first time since I don't know when.
2. Wrote a totally mindless exam. After it was over, cribbed for some time for reaching 15 minutes late. Damn, I could've puked out much more crap on the answer book.
3. Worked.
4. Did infinite BC.
5. Got drunk. Felt good to be in company of other girlfriend-less frustoos. I think they won't like being called frustoos. One of them is strong enough to crush me with a single hand. Sorry fellows, but I can't take my words back.
6. Watched Seinfeld. It's great!
7. Went for a midnight cycle ride, about 3km in all. It was brilliant, the best part of the day. Thanks Lord. I may not add you on Orkut, but this link is to thank you for your bike.
8. Wrote a post about this absolutely inconsequential topic.
1. Got up at 6 o'clock. That's a monumental achievement! this happened for the first time since I don't know when.
2. Wrote a totally mindless exam. After it was over, cribbed for some time for reaching 15 minutes late. Damn, I could've puked out much more crap on the answer book.
3. Worked.
4. Did infinite BC.
5. Got drunk. Felt good to be in company of other girlfriend-less frustoos. I think they won't like being called frustoos. One of them is strong enough to crush me with a single hand. Sorry fellows, but I can't take my words back.
6. Watched Seinfeld. It's great!
7. Went for a midnight cycle ride, about 3km in all. It was brilliant, the best part of the day. Thanks Lord. I may not add you on Orkut, but this link is to thank you for your bike.
8. Wrote a post about this absolutely inconsequential topic.
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Orkut
Lately I've been spending a lot of time on Orkut. Not that I've been bitten by the scrapping bug, but just that I have absolutely nothing to do. I find myself staring at the Firefox window and my fingers involuntarily guide the mouse to the Orkut bookmark and click it.
Once logged in, I find myself absolutely clueless about what to do. In spite of being pretty high on the frustoo scale, I don't really like the idea of surfing through profiles of supposedly pretty girls. Neither do I like to spy on people by reading their scraps. But, it is quite surprising to find people careless enough to exchange very personal information using scraps. Cell-phone numbers, addresses, working hours, plans for the night and what not!
Though I must accept that reading through insanely hilarious "i'm kool", "i'm sexy" 'about me's (some fellow described himself as koool, frandly and CORNY ?!@#$* WTF?) and make-you-pee-while-laughing 'i wanna mak franship wid u... plzz accpt ma rqst' kind of scraps is a pretty good way to pass time.
Orkut's actual intention was to help people keep in touch with friends and old acquaintances. But I think it has in fact done exactly the opposite. Real people with whom you had conversations have been reduced to little icons on the friends list. Friends who'd send you mails sharing things happening in their lives have become those obscure acquaintances who drop in that occassional 'hi! 'ssup?' scrap and even you won't care to say more than 'hey! i'm good. how're you doing?' in your reply.
Orkut made maintaining contact too easy, and that seems to have spoiled all the fun. We've started rating our friends-haven't met(how can someone you've never met be your friend?), acquaintance, good friend, best friend. Earlier, even if it was only once in a month or a few months, I would sit down and write an email, or in some rare cases, when the person was not net-savvy I would write a letter. If only for those few minutes, I would bear that person's thought in my mind, memories of times we had spent together would flash past and that somehow gave me a better feeling. Scrapping and profile visiting can never come close to that. I think the recipient will also appreciate that someone actually took time off to write him a mail or a letter.
Maybe that's how people who were used to writing letters felt when email started replacing traditional post. Maybe I'm old fashioned. Maybe I'm slow to adapt. But I want to go back to the old routine of sending and receiving mails.
People out there.. are you listening? If I actually get around to writing mails, please do not reply to them with lame scraps! I won't mind if I don't get replies. But a scrap reply would really offend me.
Once logged in, I find myself absolutely clueless about what to do. In spite of being pretty high on the frustoo scale, I don't really like the idea of surfing through profiles of supposedly pretty girls. Neither do I like to spy on people by reading their scraps. But, it is quite surprising to find people careless enough to exchange very personal information using scraps. Cell-phone numbers, addresses, working hours, plans for the night and what not!
Though I must accept that reading through insanely hilarious "i'm kool", "i'm sexy" 'about me's (some fellow described himself as koool, frandly and CORNY ?!@#$* WTF?) and make-you-pee-while-laughing 'i wanna mak franship wid u... plzz accpt ma rqst' kind of scraps is a pretty good way to pass time.
Orkut's actual intention was to help people keep in touch with friends and old acquaintances. But I think it has in fact done exactly the opposite. Real people with whom you had conversations have been reduced to little icons on the friends list. Friends who'd send you mails sharing things happening in their lives have become those obscure acquaintances who drop in that occassional 'hi! 'ssup?' scrap and even you won't care to say more than 'hey! i'm good. how're you doing?' in your reply.
Orkut made maintaining contact too easy, and that seems to have spoiled all the fun. We've started rating our friends-haven't met(how can someone you've never met be your friend?), acquaintance, good friend, best friend. Earlier, even if it was only once in a month or a few months, I would sit down and write an email, or in some rare cases, when the person was not net-savvy I would write a letter. If only for those few minutes, I would bear that person's thought in my mind, memories of times we had spent together would flash past and that somehow gave me a better feeling. Scrapping and profile visiting can never come close to that. I think the recipient will also appreciate that someone actually took time off to write him a mail or a letter.
Maybe that's how people who were used to writing letters felt when email started replacing traditional post. Maybe I'm old fashioned. Maybe I'm slow to adapt. But I want to go back to the old routine of sending and receiving mails.
People out there.. are you listening? If I actually get around to writing mails, please do not reply to them with lame scraps! I won't mind if I don't get replies. But a scrap reply would really offend me.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Arbit Tag
The alarming infrequency of posts has caused me to take desperate measures. This is a tag I picked up from Silverine.
1. Yourself: I hate this Orkut-ish "about me" stuff. I'm not writing anything.
2. Your girlfriend/spouse: None!
3. Your hair: Going by the current rate, they will only be a faint memory in a few years.
4. Your mother: She is probably baking a cake right now.
5. Your father: Has a voice exactly like mine. Or should I say, I have a voice exactly like my father's. Doesn't matter actually, it is a symmetric relation.
6. Your favorite item: A very old blue cap.
7. Your dream last night: Kesar attempting suicide because of a heartbreak. Weird!
8. Your favorite drink: Water.
9. Your dream car: Will have all the NFS kind of fodu stuff.
10. The room you are in: OBH 132.
11. Your fear: Tonight's dinner in the mess.
12. What do you want to be in 10 years? Owner of Playboy.
13. Who you hung out with last night? Smiley and Billu.
14. What you're not? Senti.
15. Muffins: WTF?
16. One of your wish list items: A gun, preferably a Desert Eagle without 'replica' written on its side.
17. Time: A brilliant Pink Floyd song.
18. The last thing you did: I yawned.
19. What are you wearing? Black jeans and a (FREE!) grey t-shirt I got last week.
20. Your favorite weather: Cold, cloudy.
21. Your favorite book: The Godfather.
22. The last thing you ate: Omlettes and bread.
23. Your life: If we ignore the fact that Sharapova lost to Serena, then life is good!
24. Your mood: Lazy.
25. Your best friend: Well, there are many. Smiley, Preshit, Neon, ....
26. What are you thinking about right now? How to squeeze out a week this summer for a trek.
27. Your car: You mean the Hot Wheels Rodzilla? Some a**hole stole it from my box of cars!
28. What are you doing at the moment? Writing a post.
29. Your summer: Hopefully won't go without a trek this year.
30. Your relationship status: Single
31. What is on your TV? No TV.
32. What is the weather like? Hot, sunny. Hell! This is supposed to be winter.
33. When is the last time you laughed? A little while ago, when Smiley derived the word under-bitch from under-dog.
Anyone desperate to post and facing a severe lack of ideas is free to pick this one up.
1. Yourself: I hate this Orkut-ish "about me" stuff. I'm not writing anything.
2. Your girlfriend/spouse: None!
3. Your hair: Going by the current rate, they will only be a faint memory in a few years.
4. Your mother: She is probably baking a cake right now.
5. Your father: Has a voice exactly like mine. Or should I say, I have a voice exactly like my father's. Doesn't matter actually, it is a symmetric relation.
6. Your favorite item: A very old blue cap.
7. Your dream last night: Kesar attempting suicide because of a heartbreak. Weird!
8. Your favorite drink: Water.
9. Your dream car: Will have all the NFS kind of fodu stuff.
10. The room you are in: OBH 132.
11. Your fear: Tonight's dinner in the mess.
12. What do you want to be in 10 years? Owner of Playboy.
13. Who you hung out with last night? Smiley and Billu.
14. What you're not? Senti.
15. Muffins: WTF?
16. One of your wish list items: A gun, preferably a Desert Eagle without 'replica' written on its side.
17. Time: A brilliant Pink Floyd song.
18. The last thing you did: I yawned.
19. What are you wearing? Black jeans and a (FREE!) grey t-shirt I got last week.
20. Your favorite weather: Cold, cloudy.
21. Your favorite book: The Godfather.
22. The last thing you ate: Omlettes and bread.
23. Your life: If we ignore the fact that Sharapova lost to Serena, then life is good!
24. Your mood: Lazy.
25. Your best friend: Well, there are many. Smiley, Preshit, Neon, ....
26. What are you thinking about right now? How to squeeze out a week this summer for a trek.
27. Your car: You mean the Hot Wheels Rodzilla? Some a**hole stole it from my box of cars!
28. What are you doing at the moment? Writing a post.
29. Your summer: Hopefully won't go without a trek this year.
30. Your relationship status: Single
31. What is on your TV? No TV.
32. What is the weather like? Hot, sunny. Hell! This is supposed to be winter.
33. When is the last time you laughed? A little while ago, when Smiley derived the word under-bitch from under-dog.
Anyone desperate to post and facing a severe lack of ideas is free to pick this one up.
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Back
Been a long time since the last post. Not in a great mood right now. A bad day in more ways than one, will be over in an hour.
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