I have been an avid reader throughout my life. Be it reading champaks and doga during the long train journeys as a child or maturing into reading the plethora of books that is today’s literary world (Yes even the book: “Why men don’t listen and Women can’t read maps!” counts), I have hardly had better feelings than the one I have when I stare out in the night out of the window, after reading. Its legen(obviously, you have to wait for it!)dary and awessssome at the same time!!
So much for the senti talk, now I’ll tell you the inspiration behind this blog. Once again its none other than Mr.Mohit. This time his remark was that he thought the name of the most revered entity of the insti (some call “it” the holy grail) was the name of a porn movie!!
So you see, you can see high octane philosophy and low octane perverted fun on my blog at the same time….
How are these two diametrically opposite scenes connected? Well, the correct answer is that they aren’t but as Douglas Adams would have me believe, a true man is one who can locate his towel anytime. If people fall for THAT, then my case CAN take the shape of a conspiracy. But me being a true litta, I’ll connect them through my brains which have now become expert in locating and measuring perverted behaviour among people.
I recently went to my aunt’s home. Uncle is in the army, so I witnessed first hand for the first time in my “mature” life, the living inside a cantonment. Always being the first to reach anywhere sports come into the picture, I was there when there was “Game Parade” to be held. They call the playing hours in the evening that. Uncle acquainted me with some of the officers and I ended up playing a full game of basketball with the jawans and the officers. After having been mesmerised by their air to air dunks and alley oops that would make Bryant proud, I had some light hearted chit chat with them.
Never being the ones to say three words when one will do, the officers generally are an affable lot. The conversation shifted on and on from one topic to another (trust me, the officers are every bit as classy and kick ass, as they show them in Top Gun or A Few Good Men), when I decided to delve a little into the “old school” thinking about the army, I asked one of the lady officers there: Is it tough for YOU folks out there?
Thankfully for me, she didn’t take me to be a chauvinistic pig….for the second I heard it come out of my mouth, I immediately regretted the question and duly apologised. The officers all smiled understandingly and reminded me they hear this question as many times as I might hear: Bhaisaab! Time kya ho raha hai?
I wont elaborate further on their answer, because I generally like the “moral stuff” said rather than written down…that too on MY blog!!
Have you figured out the connection?....get a grip folks, first find your TOWEL!!
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Monday, March 31, 2008
Life in the fast lane....
Life has been a blurred blur for the past one month. I guess that alone would be an ideal excuse asto why there hasn’t been another one of those “blasphemous”(in the literary circles) and “cool”(in the non-literary ones) entry on my much revered blogsite.
So after the ShARING with D- skul, there has been much hulabaloo in my curriculum. It all started with the rockclimbing course in Nainital. We had gone their expecting a 5 day trip to an amusement park. But Murphy’s Law hit us big time to ruin all our hopes of checking out girls on the maal road. We were told that it was a proper course with a project to be done and a full frontal written test to be cleared if we wanted to avoid a back, if you will. There went our holidays for a blast…..
While returning from Nainital, I ate in succession golgappas, sugarcane juice and had some tea too. All these combined in my stomach to create a highly exo- reaction. I only somehow managed to reach roorkee dry!!!!
After recuperating for about 8 hrs, I left for my uncle’s place in Agra to celebrate holi(my own being too far to com back from in 3 days)…again, all my hopes of having a peaceful coupla days went for a toss!!!! I realised that family can be more lethal while playing holi with, my mausis being the biggest culprits. I was declared the guest of honour and paraded around in the lane on everyone’s shoulders. The trip had its more civilised momnets when I visited the Amar Vilas, reportedly the sixth best hotel in the world.
Back to R-land now, and it seemed the vocabulary of people had been reduced to only one word, COGNI. Myself, I had planned to organise a quiz, and add to it I was also part of the HelpDesk which looks after the trivial queries of the participants. Some of the queries included: Why is this year’s cogni worse than last year’s? , Is there no couple event sorta thing in your techfest?.....heaven’s helpme!!!!
My quiz turned out to be quite a (not phenomenal) success with appreciation from ane and all regarding my choice of questions. However, the review letter the next day went on to say that the quiz was the worst of its kindd. I receive criticism rather appreciatively, so I have only decided to piece the author into 2 whenever I meet him/her.
Cognizance was over yesterday and there you go…. I, as a dutiful citizen of the blogging world have upheld my duty of updating you all with my life, as we know it!!!!
p.s.- I am as surprised as you are asto why I have written this blog so solemnly!!
So after the ShARING with D- skul, there has been much hulabaloo in my curriculum. It all started with the rockclimbing course in Nainital. We had gone their expecting a 5 day trip to an amusement park. But Murphy’s Law hit us big time to ruin all our hopes of checking out girls on the maal road. We were told that it was a proper course with a project to be done and a full frontal written test to be cleared if we wanted to avoid a back, if you will. There went our holidays for a blast…..
While returning from Nainital, I ate in succession golgappas, sugarcane juice and had some tea too. All these combined in my stomach to create a highly exo- reaction. I only somehow managed to reach roorkee dry!!!!
After recuperating for about 8 hrs, I left for my uncle’s place in Agra to celebrate holi(my own being too far to com back from in 3 days)…again, all my hopes of having a peaceful coupla days went for a toss!!!! I realised that family can be more lethal while playing holi with, my mausis being the biggest culprits. I was declared the guest of honour and paraded around in the lane on everyone’s shoulders. The trip had its more civilised momnets when I visited the Amar Vilas, reportedly the sixth best hotel in the world.
Back to R-land now, and it seemed the vocabulary of people had been reduced to only one word, COGNI. Myself, I had planned to organise a quiz, and add to it I was also part of the HelpDesk which looks after the trivial queries of the participants. Some of the queries included: Why is this year’s cogni worse than last year’s? , Is there no couple event sorta thing in your techfest?.....heaven’s helpme!!!!
My quiz turned out to be quite a (not phenomenal) success with appreciation from ane and all regarding my choice of questions. However, the review letter the next day went on to say that the quiz was the worst of its kindd. I receive criticism rather appreciatively, so I have only decided to piece the author into 2 whenever I meet him/her.
Cognizance was over yesterday and there you go…. I, as a dutiful citizen of the blogging world have upheld my duty of updating you all with my life, as we know it!!!!
p.s.- I am as surprised as you are asto why I have written this blog so solemnly!!
Sunday, March 2, 2008
ShAREing with D (s) Kul!!!!
“Aren’t the DSE guys supposed to be a bunch of moronic geeks?”
“Isnt it the same college that associates itself with the likes of Amartya Sen and Manmohan Singh?”
The aforementioned were only some of the queries that came to mind when it was informed that there was to be a team building session between IITR and DSE. The event was supposed to take place in R-land and everyone seemed to be working towards it with a passion that would surely have outdone the passion that Miss Hilton has for videotapes. More about “Miss Hilton” later. I, personally, was given the seemingly easy task of organising the team building activities. But then again I suppose, I ought to write more about the visiting college seeing that many of them would be reading my otherwise very unread blog now. (I thank the self proclaimed “pig”, Akshay Wahal for revealing the highly grotesque details of my blogsite.)
The event kicked off with the intros of every DSE student. Again the stage was being anchored by the “pig” so some unfortunate souls were asked out and one really hapless one was compared to Miss Hilton.( The “pig” gave some pathetic pj reason behind that, that had to do something with Miss Hilton owning hotels and stuff.) Their “LORD OF THE GEEKS”,(their equivalent of our very own Mathew Kurien) was trashed a lot (asif the geeks arent trashed everywhere!!!!). I wont give out his name, or else his geekiness might pursue him to sue me in ‘the international court of justice for the geeks’. One “poet” read out a four-liner which went a mile above my otherwise very sharp brain. Though she did, clarify the meaning with finese.
Then came our intros and they had a charm of their own, Mohit’s included calling himself a hallucinator and another guy’s included calling himself above 90 kgs.
We started the games then and the first one was pictionary. Eminent personalities included were “Herr Hitler” aka Sunny Jain, The Lord of the Geeks, Pamela Anderson and the likes. The real fun kicked in during the second game, the dumbcharades (the game which I had planned was vetoed out by the audience calling it too LitSecy……I think I now understand why the literary section is one of the most envied section in the insti.) with movies like “Peticoat mein visphot” and “Jab ghar mein ho saali to har raat diwali” being given and guessed correctly. When we were all leaving the S.N.Bose Auditorium (GOD bless his soul!!), Ritika told me we better cleanup the blackboard, which by then, had on it, the images of Pamela, Paris and many other stars that were in no way related to the physics department.
We had lunch then where I got to know many people ( the poetess and the CAT rapist included.) . After the sumptuous lunch we kicked them around our institute showing off our heritage. If not for them, I wudnt have delved into sections of library I hitherto thought didn’t exist. My relationship with library is a matter for another blog sometime else. THEN CAME THE SPORTS.
Ek bande ne shirt utaari, ek bande ne pant utaari aur teesre ne to bina kuch utaare hi humaari maarli!!!!! We, that is to say, IITR got trashed 4-1 in football. My contribution being a cross that would get the envy of Beckham, which was turned into the solitary goal that we managed to score.
I cut short the dinner on account for the fact that Herr Hitler himself had asked for a presentation next day. Anyways, day made memorable when MAN U thrashed fulham by THREE goals to nil and Arsehols only managed a DRAW. Yipee!!!!
We went rafting the next day, I for the first time swam in as fast a river. Jumped around 20 feet into the river. The more said the less about rafting.
The bus trips to and fro from Rishikesh were the most happening ones. I exhibit my singing talent to the extremely unfortunate ones who live in my hostel wing. There have been complaints registered with the warden I suppose regarding my riyaaz timings. So I didn’t enthusiastically participate in the antakshari fever that had gripped the bus. I was much more engrossed in i-tunes blasting in my ear and hear much more adept singers singing than the “singers” singing in the bus.
Fun though it might have been the whole weekend, I’d like to qoute Green Day as my parting words to all DSE members:
“Its something unpredictable, but in the end its right. I hope you had the times of your lives.”
“Isnt it the same college that associates itself with the likes of Amartya Sen and Manmohan Singh?”
The aforementioned were only some of the queries that came to mind when it was informed that there was to be a team building session between IITR and DSE. The event was supposed to take place in R-land and everyone seemed to be working towards it with a passion that would surely have outdone the passion that Miss Hilton has for videotapes. More about “Miss Hilton” later. I, personally, was given the seemingly easy task of organising the team building activities. But then again I suppose, I ought to write more about the visiting college seeing that many of them would be reading my otherwise very unread blog now. (I thank the self proclaimed “pig”, Akshay Wahal for revealing the highly grotesque details of my blogsite.)
The event kicked off with the intros of every DSE student. Again the stage was being anchored by the “pig” so some unfortunate souls were asked out and one really hapless one was compared to Miss Hilton.( The “pig” gave some pathetic pj reason behind that, that had to do something with Miss Hilton owning hotels and stuff.) Their “LORD OF THE GEEKS”,(their equivalent of our very own Mathew Kurien) was trashed a lot (asif the geeks arent trashed everywhere!!!!). I wont give out his name, or else his geekiness might pursue him to sue me in ‘the international court of justice for the geeks’. One “poet” read out a four-liner which went a mile above my otherwise very sharp brain. Though she did, clarify the meaning with finese.
Then came our intros and they had a charm of their own, Mohit’s included calling himself a hallucinator and another guy’s included calling himself above 90 kgs.
We started the games then and the first one was pictionary. Eminent personalities included were “Herr Hitler” aka Sunny Jain, The Lord of the Geeks, Pamela Anderson and the likes. The real fun kicked in during the second game, the dumbcharades (the game which I had planned was vetoed out by the audience calling it too LitSecy……I think I now understand why the literary section is one of the most envied section in the insti.) with movies like “Peticoat mein visphot” and “Jab ghar mein ho saali to har raat diwali” being given and guessed correctly. When we were all leaving the S.N.Bose Auditorium (GOD bless his soul!!), Ritika told me we better cleanup the blackboard, which by then, had on it, the images of Pamela, Paris and many other stars that were in no way related to the physics department.
We had lunch then where I got to know many people ( the poetess and the CAT rapist included.) . After the sumptuous lunch we kicked them around our institute showing off our heritage. If not for them, I wudnt have delved into sections of library I hitherto thought didn’t exist. My relationship with library is a matter for another blog sometime else. THEN CAME THE SPORTS.
Ek bande ne shirt utaari, ek bande ne pant utaari aur teesre ne to bina kuch utaare hi humaari maarli!!!!! We, that is to say, IITR got trashed 4-1 in football. My contribution being a cross that would get the envy of Beckham, which was turned into the solitary goal that we managed to score.
I cut short the dinner on account for the fact that Herr Hitler himself had asked for a presentation next day. Anyways, day made memorable when MAN U thrashed fulham by THREE goals to nil and Arsehols only managed a DRAW. Yipee!!!!
We went rafting the next day, I for the first time swam in as fast a river. Jumped around 20 feet into the river. The more said the less about rafting.
The bus trips to and fro from Rishikesh were the most happening ones. I exhibit my singing talent to the extremely unfortunate ones who live in my hostel wing. There have been complaints registered with the warden I suppose regarding my riyaaz timings. So I didn’t enthusiastically participate in the antakshari fever that had gripped the bus. I was much more engrossed in i-tunes blasting in my ear and hear much more adept singers singing than the “singers” singing in the bus.
Fun though it might have been the whole weekend, I’d like to qoute Green Day as my parting words to all DSE members:
“Its something unpredictable, but in the end its right. I hope you had the times of your lives.”
Saturday, February 23, 2008
THE RETURN TO INNOCENCE....
My blogs are generally narratives in the truest sense of the word. Other bloggers in R-land write on a gamut of subjects but I (although I am a good quizzer and boast an awesome GK) generally abstain from writing on debatable topics and stick to describing to the happenings in my very happening life. Also my use of vaocabulary is much more down to earth(a soft way of saying I am not a walking dictionary) rather than filled with frills which Shakespeare himself might have problems fathoming.
But after having noticed the latest blog entries(my own "Bareilly ke bazaar mein..." included), one can say that "sentiyaapa" has crept in, nay, forced its way in the mind of a typical Thomsonian. Be it Lefty's "Nice guys finish last" or Dela's "Il joga bonito" and "Growing down?" emotions seem to running rather high in an otherwise chilly winter. Believe me, I can still crack jokes which have people in splits but somehow that jolly air is missing.
So its after much convincing my otherwise nympho brain that I finally sit down to write a senti blog.
Lately, (as my faithful blog readers might know) I had the chance to first hand experience the working of a full fledged, angst ridden, pathetic excuse for public service,government office. The one thing I found common in all the people that walked the rooms in that particular walk you would definitely associate with tension is that they probably were thinking about other hurdles after this one was crossed. That was it. They looked asif they had nothing to look forward in life. I had to count myself as not one of those, afterall I had a FA cup Man U - Arsenal match to look forward to.(trivial, some might say).
People go on just for the sake of going on. Even in the campus, the case is not much different, as I later realised. Its all about the same things over and over again. Kiska placement kahan lagega? or Kiska CAT clear hoga? or Kiska GRE accha jaega? During my course of two years I have met many (whom i'd rather call hapless) souls who seem to recite the aforementioned three sentences only.
Now, it seemed that FA cup match was really a thing to look forward to. Puts things into perspective , it really does. Maybe it isnt about a six figure pay packet or an MBA or whatever.....
because after a lot of introspection I found that the one person whom I most wanted to become was someone like Lefty's mom. Someone who at fifty or sixty or seventy write blogs, which would still crack up the teenagers.
But after having noticed the latest blog entries(my own "Bareilly ke bazaar mein..." included), one can say that "sentiyaapa" has crept in, nay, forced its way in the mind of a typical Thomsonian. Be it Lefty's "Nice guys finish last" or Dela's "Il joga bonito" and "Growing down?" emotions seem to running rather high in an otherwise chilly winter. Believe me, I can still crack jokes which have people in splits but somehow that jolly air is missing.
So its after much convincing my otherwise nympho brain that I finally sit down to write a senti blog.
Lately, (as my faithful blog readers might know) I had the chance to first hand experience the working of a full fledged, angst ridden, pathetic excuse for public service,government office. The one thing I found common in all the people that walked the rooms in that particular walk you would definitely associate with tension is that they probably were thinking about other hurdles after this one was crossed. That was it. They looked asif they had nothing to look forward in life. I had to count myself as not one of those, afterall I had a FA cup Man U - Arsenal match to look forward to.(trivial, some might say).
People go on just for the sake of going on. Even in the campus, the case is not much different, as I later realised. Its all about the same things over and over again. Kiska placement kahan lagega? or Kiska CAT clear hoga? or Kiska GRE accha jaega? During my course of two years I have met many (whom i'd rather call hapless) souls who seem to recite the aforementioned three sentences only.
Now, it seemed that FA cup match was really a thing to look forward to. Puts things into perspective , it really does. Maybe it isnt about a six figure pay packet or an MBA or whatever.....
because after a lot of introspection I found that the one person whom I most wanted to become was someone like Lefty's mom. Someone who at fifty or sixty or seventy write blogs, which would still crack up the teenagers.
Bareilly ke bazaar mein.........
My long hiatus due to certain, words don’t describe them, events which are to be narrated below. Please bear with me if you feel I am gettimg too technical.
There was suddenly an outburst of oppurtunities in R-land through which “students” could venture abroad. Sushi happened to come across one of them and he gladly took up the offer thinking about the country that was to be bestowed upon by the visit of inaurguably the greatest person to grace the Earth since the Laurel-Hardy duo. However the events that transpired afterwards shattered my self righteous nature. (Shattered, I think, is too weak a term, annhilated would be more appropriate.)
The first task that had to be performed was to get a passport. The previous sentence had 13 words. Well 13 was exactly how the whole thing went, extremely unlucky. Six people (who have now turned into zombies) went together to the land of madness, Bareilly to get their tatkal passport. The first real (some might call it awesome) thing that happened to us was our trip in the general comparment which has made my nose defunct I think. People were everywhere. Trust me you don’t want me to elaborate on my “everywhere”. It was a very tiring overnight journey so……….
DAY 1
No sooner had we gotten near the passport office, we were drowned in a slurry of “helpers” who according to themselves could do anything. One of them went ahead and said: Shaam tak passport aapke haath mein hoga. Paanch hazaar lagenge.
We didn’t think even once before walking away. Unfortunately being a student (family background, disregarding) doesn’t give you that much luxury financially.
The humunguosly huge passport form was filled out and just when it looked things would go smoothly, came the first bombshell. There is this document called the verification form that you need to fill out and get it attested by a high ( and by high , I mean there would be around 1000 people in the whole of India with that much authority) authority. The catch was you had to get 2 copies attested. Our over sized brains thought, 1 attested and the other its photocopy. Hearing this news, one thought simultaneously raced through our minds: We COULD jump of the roof. (We had done that much to get the verification form, you see.)
After a brainstorm, that surely would have outwitted Einstein, we got two sets of the required documents transported from Roorkee through, behold yourself, a TTE who was on a train from Haridwar to Bareilly. We meanwhile, passed the time by watching “Sunday”, a pathetic excuse for a comedy movie. I still have nightmares about the PJ’s cracked in the movie. We received our forms late in the night, where we were so politely reminded by the TTE that he was not a postman. We were very close to a tantrum. So we reminded him that by taking a hundred bucks from our friend in Haridwar, he had done exactly what a postman would do. We IITians can seriously kick ass when we need to. Later that night, I had my first anger outburst of my life when I shouted at some poor soul who kept on petchering us asto which was a good hotel. Like Ed Norton said: Babies don’t sleep this well. That’s how we slept that night
DAY 2
We reached the passport office again and did the necessary formalities. They say the main thing to do when you are getting a tatkal is convince the passport officer that you really need the passport urgently. Passport officers are civil services exam qualified and that too in the Foreign category, the toughest to clear. So they are generally, witty enough, not to be taken for rides. One of the few instances where, phatte don’t work. Inspite of our best efforts and convincing, he gave us the collection date of a week later. Lowblow. But again we werent to be outdone. We brought REAL tears to our (what we hoped would be) innocent faces and gave him the senti treatment. Result: We got the delivery dates of the next day.
We slept rather peacefully that night.
DAY 3
Again the ghosts returned to haunt us when we found out that the person who had attested our verification forms wanst high enough in power for them. We told them he was an IPS (They qualify to sign the document) but they wanted some proof of that. Just read asto what happened next.
We googled his name. We got a webpage which listed IPS officers of his batch. We got a printout of that page. Howsatt for innovation? This (much to my surprise though) convinced the officer and he gave us the go ahead. There werent now many hurdles remaining. So when the first one among us got the passport, we really got carried away and gave him bumps inside the office. Security was called to immediately get us thrown out. We treated them the 25-bucks’ style and in the end just 5 minutes before the scheduled close of the office, the last one among us got the passport.
I doubt I’ll feel this happy even if Nicole Kidman proposed me.
After a 10 hr back breaking bus journey (yeah, we didn’t have the guts to face another trip in the general compartment) we reached our cosy hostel rooms.
We really had travelled miles before we slept. And boy oh boy, we slept after that.
(Personally my woes continued as I got diarrhoea for the next 3 days. Normality it seems has been finally restored as I’m now feeling quite at ease typing this, once again, immensely long and boring post.)
There was suddenly an outburst of oppurtunities in R-land through which “students” could venture abroad. Sushi happened to come across one of them and he gladly took up the offer thinking about the country that was to be bestowed upon by the visit of inaurguably the greatest person to grace the Earth since the Laurel-Hardy duo. However the events that transpired afterwards shattered my self righteous nature. (Shattered, I think, is too weak a term, annhilated would be more appropriate.)
The first task that had to be performed was to get a passport. The previous sentence had 13 words. Well 13 was exactly how the whole thing went, extremely unlucky. Six people (who have now turned into zombies) went together to the land of madness, Bareilly to get their tatkal passport. The first real (some might call it awesome) thing that happened to us was our trip in the general comparment which has made my nose defunct I think. People were everywhere. Trust me you don’t want me to elaborate on my “everywhere”. It was a very tiring overnight journey so……….
DAY 1
No sooner had we gotten near the passport office, we were drowned in a slurry of “helpers” who according to themselves could do anything. One of them went ahead and said: Shaam tak passport aapke haath mein hoga. Paanch hazaar lagenge.
We didn’t think even once before walking away. Unfortunately being a student (family background, disregarding) doesn’t give you that much luxury financially.
The humunguosly huge passport form was filled out and just when it looked things would go smoothly, came the first bombshell. There is this document called the verification form that you need to fill out and get it attested by a high ( and by high , I mean there would be around 1000 people in the whole of India with that much authority) authority. The catch was you had to get 2 copies attested. Our over sized brains thought, 1 attested and the other its photocopy. Hearing this news, one thought simultaneously raced through our minds: We COULD jump of the roof. (We had done that much to get the verification form, you see.)
After a brainstorm, that surely would have outwitted Einstein, we got two sets of the required documents transported from Roorkee through, behold yourself, a TTE who was on a train from Haridwar to Bareilly. We meanwhile, passed the time by watching “Sunday”, a pathetic excuse for a comedy movie. I still have nightmares about the PJ’s cracked in the movie. We received our forms late in the night, where we were so politely reminded by the TTE that he was not a postman. We were very close to a tantrum. So we reminded him that by taking a hundred bucks from our friend in Haridwar, he had done exactly what a postman would do. We IITians can seriously kick ass when we need to. Later that night, I had my first anger outburst of my life when I shouted at some poor soul who kept on petchering us asto which was a good hotel. Like Ed Norton said: Babies don’t sleep this well. That’s how we slept that night
DAY 2
We reached the passport office again and did the necessary formalities. They say the main thing to do when you are getting a tatkal is convince the passport officer that you really need the passport urgently. Passport officers are civil services exam qualified and that too in the Foreign category, the toughest to clear. So they are generally, witty enough, not to be taken for rides. One of the few instances where, phatte don’t work. Inspite of our best efforts and convincing, he gave us the collection date of a week later. Lowblow. But again we werent to be outdone. We brought REAL tears to our (what we hoped would be) innocent faces and gave him the senti treatment. Result: We got the delivery dates of the next day.
We slept rather peacefully that night.
DAY 3
Again the ghosts returned to haunt us when we found out that the person who had attested our verification forms wanst high enough in power for them. We told them he was an IPS (They qualify to sign the document) but they wanted some proof of that. Just read asto what happened next.
We googled his name. We got a webpage which listed IPS officers of his batch. We got a printout of that page. Howsatt for innovation? This (much to my surprise though) convinced the officer and he gave us the go ahead. There werent now many hurdles remaining. So when the first one among us got the passport, we really got carried away and gave him bumps inside the office. Security was called to immediately get us thrown out. We treated them the 25-bucks’ style and in the end just 5 minutes before the scheduled close of the office, the last one among us got the passport.
I doubt I’ll feel this happy even if Nicole Kidman proposed me.
After a 10 hr back breaking bus journey (yeah, we didn’t have the guts to face another trip in the general compartment) we reached our cosy hostel rooms.
We really had travelled miles before we slept. And boy oh boy, we slept after that.
(Personally my woes continued as I got diarrhoea for the next 3 days. Normality it seems has been finally restored as I’m now feeling quite at ease typing this, once again, immensely long and boring post.)
Sunday, January 27, 2008
ATLAS SHRUGGED.....
"Aur Sushi jaa raha hai?"
"Haan!Usne mutthal ki cycle le li hai!"
Thus was the cacophony that woke me up the morning of the cycle race.Oh, the title of the blog is not a reference to John Galt(I still dont know who he is by the way!!),it is symbolic of a humungous problem that plagued me during whatever little stint I had as a bike racer........
The previous couple of days had gone by in a blurry with me hellbent on convincing a certain very "moody" personality to come to Delhi but in the end what transpired was total chaos......in a nutshell i might say that the sophomore LitSec guys took the world on their shoulders and finally all was quiet with even big daddy Matty decided to sleep through the biggest quiz of the year.
Call it Murphy's Law or whatever but incidentally the annual cycle race fell on the same day.I had arranged a cycle (or so I thought) in a record 2 hrs.There seemed to be a sudden shortage of cycles in a place which is otherwise teeming with them.The seemingly only problem with the cycle(apart from the fact that it was Mohit's) was that there was no air in the tyres.BAAM!A senior told me there would be a mechanic there on the starting line.......
So I took a chest number(it was 198 if anyone is interested)and waited with bated breath for the race to start.The organising team had other ideas though(I'm not sure what they were),so the race started a full 30 minutes late.As soon as the race started i knew something was wrong.Still I persisted and brought the unforgettable image of Lance Armstrong with his arms raised crossing the finish line at Le Tour de France.Alas!Even that wasnt enough to delay the inevitable.....my cycle completely broke down 3kms into the race and by completely i mean the type when you cant even sit on it!!!!
So I had to walk back 3 kms to the start line.Hoping someone might consider me first was a grave error.No soon had i started walking back that people began questioning(and by people i mean the 60 yr old folks who go the temple every morning)"Kya ho gaya?".So this was how one of the greatest mysteries of the Atlas shrugging(in my case the Atlas literally shook the earth off)was unravelled to me and somehow contrary to what I had stated earlier maybe I really do know who Galt is......
not giving the answer though.Try breaking down your cycle in front of the Ganga Canal and walk back if you want the answer!!!!
p.s.-my cycle's name was Atlas Speeder......
"Haan!Usne mutthal ki cycle le li hai!"
Thus was the cacophony that woke me up the morning of the cycle race.Oh, the title of the blog is not a reference to John Galt(I still dont know who he is by the way!!),it is symbolic of a humungous problem that plagued me during whatever little stint I had as a bike racer........
The previous couple of days had gone by in a blurry with me hellbent on convincing a certain very "moody" personality to come to Delhi but in the end what transpired was total chaos......in a nutshell i might say that the sophomore LitSec guys took the world on their shoulders and finally all was quiet with even big daddy Matty decided to sleep through the biggest quiz of the year.
Call it Murphy's Law or whatever but incidentally the annual cycle race fell on the same day.I had arranged a cycle (or so I thought) in a record 2 hrs.There seemed to be a sudden shortage of cycles in a place which is otherwise teeming with them.The seemingly only problem with the cycle(apart from the fact that it was Mohit's) was that there was no air in the tyres.BAAM!A senior told me there would be a mechanic there on the starting line.......
So I took a chest number(it was 198 if anyone is interested)and waited with bated breath for the race to start.The organising team had other ideas though(I'm not sure what they were),so the race started a full 30 minutes late.As soon as the race started i knew something was wrong.Still I persisted and brought the unforgettable image of Lance Armstrong with his arms raised crossing the finish line at Le Tour de France.Alas!Even that wasnt enough to delay the inevitable.....my cycle completely broke down 3kms into the race and by completely i mean the type when you cant even sit on it!!!!
So I had to walk back 3 kms to the start line.Hoping someone might consider me first was a grave error.No soon had i started walking back that people began questioning(and by people i mean the 60 yr old folks who go the temple every morning)"Kya ho gaya?".So this was how one of the greatest mysteries of the Atlas shrugging(in my case the Atlas literally shook the earth off)was unravelled to me and somehow contrary to what I had stated earlier maybe I really do know who Galt is......
not giving the answer though.Try breaking down your cycle in front of the Ganga Canal and walk back if you want the answer!!!!
p.s.-my cycle's name was Atlas Speeder......
Monday, January 21, 2008
About da Knowseating Fest!
Twas 1300hrs (yeah , I AM a huge 1984 fan) when Sushi left his room for attending what was supposed to be a one of its kind thing, A LITERARY FEST. Now some people might commit suicide at the idea of having to sit through six quizzes (the attendance at the LitSec events suggests this) but Sushi,Lefty,Rapko, Dela and Kaka saw only one thing (well,apart from the fact that there were prizes worth 15 lacs to be won, I mean who doesnt notice that?), the plethora of knowledge on offer.
So we set out the Reservoir Dogs style although its rickshaw version.The trip started on a highly disturbing note-we were assaulted. Well to the normal public it might not be an assault but to us it was. We were pestered by the u know who of the clapping ilk.Lucky Dela was outside the compartment when he saw what was happening to us and instead of turning into a Maddu hero he was supposed to become , he turned into a road runner and ran for his life. The rest of the trip went by with our cabin taking the form of a Roorkee bakar house.
We reached the "Sangam nagri" at 7 the next morning, apparently the MNNIT folks believe in the funda "Atithi devo bhava!" and they had opened a hospitality counter on the platform itself. Although I was hoping to find a prettier face to welcome us (they had,on the contrary,made some 6ft 5inch a quintal weighing giant of a "boy" to sit on the desk.).By the by,what sent our spirits on cloud number nine was the fact that they told us to take the tempo to girls hostel.Dela looked as if a hundred Nicole Kidmans were rolling in front of him. The joy turned out to be short lived as were to be staying at their equivalent of the Jawahar Bhawan. We dumped our stuff where we were supposed to and set out exploring the campus when at the sight to two guys Rapko went beserk.On being asked "Why the sudden hormonal outburst?".Lefty replied(quote): These were the guys who raped us last thomso. Read: These were the guys who had streamrolled the LitSec last thomso in a particular quiz. So the lions of Roorkee encountered their first of the many to come enemies.
Then came the first quiz. Myself,Kaka and Dela found it more funny than informative. The quiz masters might as well have said :BEND OVER!!!!....We got around 8 out of 30 right and didnt even make it to the main round. Lefty and Rapko did though and finished third. The "rapists" finished the winners.
Next were the auto and the corporate quizzes which were our "weak"(read:pathetic) areas.We didnt even try making it to the finals there but in the meanwhile enjoyed the Saagar Ratna outlet that was opened.
The last quiz of the day was the Grand General Quiz.IIT Roorkee kicked some really hard when all of us made it to the final round and won over the hearts of many when yours truly answered to some questions answers like KamaSutra and cervix. So on a rather happy note we went to sleep.
Rapko took up the role of System Of A Down and shouted "WAKE UP!!!" at sharp eight the next morning. I gained one important lesson:Dela is DA reincarnation of Kumbhkaran.It took approximatly 42 minutes to wake him up.....that really says everything.
So we proceeded onto to participate in the entertainment quiz which was supposed to be about entertainment but in the end turned out to be about bong and Mithun as bond movies.Although we came fourth it was in this quiz that we proved that were the funniest geeks at the fest.The team had to nominate one of the members to play the superstar round.I was selected to be the sacrifice and the quizmaster asked me to become a celebrity and LO AND BEHOLD ,we decided to make me PAMELA ANDERSON. This brought the audience into splits.The "superstar" or in my case the pornstar was allowed to consult his or in my case "her" teammates.And i shouted into the microphone "I WOULD LIKE TO CONSULT MY TWIN ASSETS!!!!"At this everyone literally rolled on the floor and we walked away the "winners".
We found ,much to our dismay, that the Saagar Ratna outlet had been closed so we were left starving for much of the day.The last quiz was supposed to be our saviour:The sports quiz.
It turned to be a cricket encyclopedia. The quizmaster reckoned Wisden was as popular as Playboy and perhaps thought people actually followed squash and horse racing.We came third after a real nail biter when we won the tie breaker.They say that it was so tense that one of my many fans suffered a brainstroke and then found out that she had no brain.
We left as soon as possible for reasons likely to be fatal in such situations.WE that is to say myself,Kaka and Dela didnt have tickets for the return journey.After a lot of inquiring we got tickets but found that we would have to bunk the whole of next days classes. We had like 3 hours to kill on the platform so we decided to buy magazines.
The dickhead of a bookseller didnt have any novellas so ,much to our surprise, we found ourselves buying "RASBHARI KAHAANIYAAN:AWAIDH SAMBANDH VISHESHANK"(believe me ,it WAS called that),Outlook and India Today.The foremost proved to be a juice not worth the squeeze so we all reached Roorkee with memoirs of a fiesta firmly and funily etched in our "brains"!!!!
So we set out the Reservoir Dogs style although its rickshaw version.The trip started on a highly disturbing note-we were assaulted. Well to the normal public it might not be an assault but to us it was. We were pestered by the u know who of the clapping ilk.Lucky Dela was outside the compartment when he saw what was happening to us and instead of turning into a Maddu hero he was supposed to become , he turned into a road runner and ran for his life. The rest of the trip went by with our cabin taking the form of a Roorkee bakar house.
We reached the "Sangam nagri" at 7 the next morning, apparently the MNNIT folks believe in the funda "Atithi devo bhava!" and they had opened a hospitality counter on the platform itself. Although I was hoping to find a prettier face to welcome us (they had,on the contrary,made some 6ft 5inch a quintal weighing giant of a "boy" to sit on the desk.).By the by,what sent our spirits on cloud number nine was the fact that they told us to take the tempo to girls hostel.Dela looked as if a hundred Nicole Kidmans were rolling in front of him. The joy turned out to be short lived as were to be staying at their equivalent of the Jawahar Bhawan. We dumped our stuff where we were supposed to and set out exploring the campus when at the sight to two guys Rapko went beserk.On being asked "Why the sudden hormonal outburst?".Lefty replied(quote): These were the guys who raped us last thomso. Read: These were the guys who had streamrolled the LitSec last thomso in a particular quiz. So the lions of Roorkee encountered their first of the many to come enemies.
Then came the first quiz. Myself,Kaka and Dela found it more funny than informative. The quiz masters might as well have said :BEND OVER!!!!....We got around 8 out of 30 right and didnt even make it to the main round. Lefty and Rapko did though and finished third. The "rapists" finished the winners.
Next were the auto and the corporate quizzes which were our "weak"(read:pathetic) areas.We didnt even try making it to the finals there but in the meanwhile enjoyed the Saagar Ratna outlet that was opened.
The last quiz of the day was the Grand General Quiz.IIT Roorkee kicked some really hard when all of us made it to the final round and won over the hearts of many when yours truly answered to some questions answers like KamaSutra and cervix. So on a rather happy note we went to sleep.
Rapko took up the role of System Of A Down and shouted "WAKE UP!!!" at sharp eight the next morning. I gained one important lesson:Dela is DA reincarnation of Kumbhkaran.It took approximatly 42 minutes to wake him up.....that really says everything.
So we proceeded onto to participate in the entertainment quiz which was supposed to be about entertainment but in the end turned out to be about bong and Mithun as bond movies.Although we came fourth it was in this quiz that we proved that were the funniest geeks at the fest.The team had to nominate one of the members to play the superstar round.I was selected to be the sacrifice and the quizmaster asked me to become a celebrity and LO AND BEHOLD ,we decided to make me PAMELA ANDERSON. This brought the audience into splits.The "superstar" or in my case the pornstar was allowed to consult his or in my case "her" teammates.And i shouted into the microphone "I WOULD LIKE TO CONSULT MY TWIN ASSETS!!!!"At this everyone literally rolled on the floor and we walked away the "winners".
We found ,much to our dismay, that the Saagar Ratna outlet had been closed so we were left starving for much of the day.The last quiz was supposed to be our saviour:The sports quiz.
It turned to be a cricket encyclopedia. The quizmaster reckoned Wisden was as popular as Playboy and perhaps thought people actually followed squash and horse racing.We came third after a real nail biter when we won the tie breaker.They say that it was so tense that one of my many fans suffered a brainstroke and then found out that she had no brain.
We left as soon as possible for reasons likely to be fatal in such situations.WE that is to say myself,Kaka and Dela didnt have tickets for the return journey.After a lot of inquiring we got tickets but found that we would have to bunk the whole of next days classes. We had like 3 hours to kill on the platform so we decided to buy magazines.
The dickhead of a bookseller didnt have any novellas so ,much to our surprise, we found ourselves buying "RASBHARI KAHAANIYAAN:AWAIDH SAMBANDH VISHESHANK"(believe me ,it WAS called that),Outlook and India Today.The foremost proved to be a juice not worth the squeeze so we all reached Roorkee with memoirs of a fiesta firmly and funily etched in our "brains"!!!!
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