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Friday

For Better or....

Howdy Folks!
I’m alive. Surprise!
People all over the world are clutching their falling pants and wiping their runny noses while trying to hold back tears of joy. That’s all I’m going to say about my vanishing act and my subsequent return today. I’m back. Let’s not read too much into that.

I read my own blog yesterday, the dusty old posts forgotten by all, hiding in the ether. Words buried in old web pages, unseen by anyone except the odd spam bot. I am simultaneously embarrassed and jealous. Embarrassed because I was an idiot. Jealous because, well, I used to be a fun idiot. I used to think of such strange and wonderful things that just do not occur to me anymore. As though the little spinning pinwheel that is inside my soul, powering my imagination and coherence, is slowly being worn away. Soon it will be but a little pile of confetti.

However, to be frank, I am excited about the whole stuff happening around: D. At least I am in a place where I don’t have to laugh for jokes like this - My laziness is like the number 8. Once it lies down, it becomes infinite. In fact I am living in a live entertainment world. Trust me, my inner voice has a better tone of humour than these made up jokes. Try it by walking in front of me sometime.

Now-a-days, I am living on a motivation of spending my remaining life in a comatose state without uttering a single syllable just like Mr. Singh. Before you people used your impermissible levels of intelligence in guessing my profession, lemme tell you, I am not a LIBRARIAN. Adding much to my amusement, wherever I go, I end up bumping into couples and little freakily bawling kids. In such worst conditions, if ever I can still hear but highly prefer not to hear is Ekta Kapoor type bahus who are roaming in this free nation. For that matter,any saas-bahu Jodi.

Talking about it, everyone ought to get married unless they have a really good reason not to, like becoming the nun or if they are in a coma or are in under daily dosage of Ekta Kapoor. I researched long to find out the reasons that hypothesized women to get married which is supposedly their life’s biggest dream.  The most realistic one seems to be that they seem to get the urge to merge for all sorts of silly reasons like being in love, but the most plausible one could be that they have managed to locate that one specimen in the male population who is not a complete jerk.

It boggles my mind whenever I see all the forces come under cooperation and willingness to get a person hitched. Research tells us that these forces spend one hundred and forty four hours a week, on average, either in contemplation or in discussion of this stuff.  When I say forces, it refers to the family, extended family, friends, friends’ friends, colleagues and trust me even the servant maids.

Well, there are seven billion people on this planet. Statistically half of them are men. The probability of finding that one handsome, loving and sensitive male out of the pack is pretty high. It’s a different matter however that I might never run into him because he’s likely under scientific observation in a laboratory in MIT. Just in case if you are lucky you bump into him too but these same rational forces I referred too with make their best to project him as any other jerk.

So this excessive enthusiasm and the pains of bitter disappointments of those frogs that turned into princesses kept me extremely busy. Hence, no updates but I promise to visit once in a while with a new post.


The Victim

On this pier walking past the memories
that conjure up deluged with the remnants of love
far away secluded
for me
the world looks so plebeian
dancing to three powers that made it a mere marionette
no disdain
no love
no care
no fear
apathy it is
the power reminds me how mortal we are
how assiduously we follow the rythm
I leave this place dry with no blood and a story to tell
without a kindred one to abdicate my throne to.
His sable eyes look through- perplexed with the
equable climate,floundering helplessly he finally
reaches the sacred place where
the inscriptions of blood speak !!
from the stench of failure came a catharsis
genesis of a contempt for lives caught in the vale of love
a blinding light which rose above me showing the face behind its facade.
"sucess" the inscription read !!!
doors opened to the road flanked by graves on both sides
every epitaph read the same as I walked on
the path intrepid
"The Victim "

Sunday

Adventures of Demented Teacher

Couple of days back, just before the recess break began, I was suppose to give a tutorial to100 students. Little to my exaggeration, surprisingly I  had that good attendance for an Algebra class. I was bored teaching the same shit, no surprises there watching the students doze off. Suddenly out of nowhere, a Gtalk window pops out saying 'Motuuuuuuuuuuu' (fatso). It was my roomie who pings me to say that a pink pair of tongs were on her bed and asked if it was mine. I replied in a word taking no choices and chances as the projector has the desktop. She chuckles and asks,” wore something na aaj!”
All of the sudden, the suffering of Algebra has become super hilarious recreation class.
That bitch chatted for like 5 minutes non-stop while the projector connections are too tight to disconnect. All the while everybody in that lecture hall was laughing his/her ass off. First time in my life, I had to adjourn my class 45 mins early and get out. Next day I go to my class and I see my name plate replaced with PINKY and people started calling me the same out of the blue.
I was really embarrassed that day but when I look back and write this was one of the funniest things which happened to me and of course I have a semester to deal with it!

Wednesday

I reflect!

As I watch that fading sun,
Looking deep, hiding behind the dark clouds,
Like those unsaid thoughts pondering,
I reflect.

As I watch those fresh flowers,
Covered with the tiny rainy droplets
Saying a hundred things without speaking a word,
I reflect.

As I hear those roaring clouds,
A hundred allegations flying wildly,
Lashing out the anger,
I reflect.

As I scrutinize the path I have chosen
And my view of sticking to it, even when lost,
I reflect.

But as I think about all that has gone wrong

I break like the steaming volcano,
And all that could have been
I reflect.

As I watch to live it again.
For a desire that died 
but tears continuing to flow are lost in all the reflections.

Thursday

Joy of Swades!


Been on a trip inside my head for the past few days, and am off on another one, this time for real. It is high time for me to respond to all the pending comments, visit all the morons in the city, take a bath and catch up on all the gossip! Not necessarily sequentially: p

Anyways, it is burning hot here man… swear! Do not ever tell this around, I am sure there is one person everywhere who can give you that screwball lecture on Global Warming.

Unfortunately it was my boss during my internship. To save my job, I spared his egg shared smooth shaved head.

I sat through a long discourse on global warming and how it’ll affect the kind of clothes we wear on a daily basis. Apparently, the Earth is going to become too hot for us to wear clothes and we’d all be walking around butt-naked on the streets, sweating like pigs. We will be forced to do something drastic to preserve whatever ‘little’ decency we have.

From the Stone Age to the Information Age, we’re crashing towards another Ass Age. Strangely, this comes just before the next Ice Age, and the two pronunciations are not to be confused. So, what do we do in this ex-ass-perating situation?

Well, the answer is drink coke and put peace!  I know how it feels … Face palm!  Morons are everywhere but only logical morons are found in yeh desh hai mera..Swadesh :D

Somehow I feel that all the truths about Global Warming should be proven true, and then would the fucked-up version of the future would be something like ass age to ice age. Unfortunately, it’s just a dream. An ass-piration: P Then the formula of Keep calm and eat aam doesn’t work :P ..You know why ….

Anyways, apart from the heat, I have my serious rants. Every unofficial couple in the city feels that I am their parents or ex’s hired CID who is tracking them in every mall, theatre. Oh yeah! Am this bright inquisitive and exuberance of the youth parcelled from west and landed here. Lemme clarify, I am omnipresent for next two months in all the malls, multiplexes, single screen theatres of the SE Asia. Unfortunately coke is paying for the scampering; else I don’t mind tracking you souls too. Sorry, currently I am hired! Jee le zindagi!Hasthe kilthe... 

Finally! Despite the odds, feels great to be back in motherland J

Monday

Introducing India today!



Be a female and get killed before birth.

If survived that, at 5 years get raped by the neighbour.

Got over it also easily? Time to go to school!

Be a nice student, ask doubts, and get molested by the teacher.

No, you haven’t had male faculty, oh wait...more to go!

Get on to the bus and get raped.

Somehow escaped it, go to cops for security, get raped or mocked.

Ask for a lift home and get raped.

Finally, love a guy from other religion and be beheaded by your own brother.

Try this: be cow and get worshiped.

Sure it is a sin to be a girl of this country!

We DONOT need reservation in politics, we DONOT need quota in education and business. All we need is a secured country even for a female ant. #An_Indian_girl

Tuesday

Weekend roundup!


Again, I disappeared. I know! Now not the trip or anything, but the exams and also a bit of surprising shocking news.
On 11th April, one hysterical group ran into me on the street announcing my Dean’s award as very inspiring personality (in other terms all round award which I did not believe till I received). I didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or delighted. In the end, I just managed to nod my head, smile, make appropriate noises, and escape to the safety.click here for details.

Anyways that was the reason and also these days my tight schedule fitted in a movie every evening mostly Bollywood masala.After watching sooooo much of drama, now let me recollect the famous dialogue of Bollywood “Mere paas maa hai”. This movie probably set new standards in Indian cinema and elevated mortal beings into superstardom. The ’70s were all that Bollywood could offer in terms of originality, innovation and pleasure. Apart from the occasional gem, a majority of the movies made in Bollywood today are worthless pieces of stool.

Simple formula that all Bollywood movies follow nowadays:
A meets B.
Falls in love with B.
A thinks life is all roses and unicorns. Sings a song or two.
But, oh no! What’s this? B is in love with C! How unexpected!
A is shattered. Depressed. Sings a song or two.
C, meanwhile, is a jerk and does something inhuman, untrustworthy.
B loses faith in C. B is depressed. Blames self for misfortune. Sings a song or two.
A swoops in like a knight in shining armor. Consoles B.
B falls in love with A. All is fine, sing a song or two.
Optional (for violence): C and A have a fight.
If A and C are men, you have a strong romantic movie filled with songs, drama and action. If A and C are women, you have a spicy, romantic chick flick.

The unchanging storyline for any movie worth its salt to pass inspection. Package the formula with a college theme, a superhero theme, a gangster theme, and just about any goddamn theme – you get one crappy movie after another.

If not this, re-hashing successful old movies with more masala and lesser clothes and disgusting lyrics to excite more hapless people. Blatant over-the-top acting with too much drama and too many emotions and too many movements of the eyebrows. Now comes the actors with some two to three hits in their pocket engaging themselves into silly publicity stunts, those who sell their souls to be on a reality show and those who sell their bodies to get featured in a newspaper – we have all kinds of lunatics in this business.

Well, I still love Bollywood! This is the only ridiculous substance that keeps me awake all night.
PS: Perverts, I heard u! Well, not for that certainly!





Credits: Nikhil