The Perverted Times

Well she looked at me (or so thought me)
and I, I could see 
That before too long 
I'd fall in love with her (or the one standing next to her) 
She wouldn't dance with another (and definitely not with Bihari Potter)
Oh, when I saw her standing there ……..

People actually looking in the mirror while combing, some skirty creatures whose faces you can’t remember because you never even bothered to see them and an optimism that is quite rare in the otherwise bleak R-land. That’s right, it is the insti’s “cultural fest”. 

The Sulk entered one of his sulkier modes and profoundly said, “This is one time of the year when I hate being a geek!” to which yours truly replied a not so profound, “I don’t know whether I am a geek!” to be hit back by nothing but a vehement confirmation. Point settled.

Now The Morons have members most of whose quanta of guts runs into negatives. (Myself, of course being the exception that in fact goes onto prove the rule. (Coxx is CLASS!)) So our idea of fun bordering on dangerous proportions was “relative grading” and even then you have people like Padhy who say they are doing this for the first time.(Hallowed be his name!!) The reptile tried to hit it off with one of his ex-schoolmates (or so he thought) until his guts came to the fore, Jugga-man tried to help him nearly resulting in the Reptile wetting himself with embarrassment. Another character informed me I was in someone’s “good books”, strike that, let her just be the maiden bowled over. (Can I get an Amen!), only to be met by rivalry from none other than Bihari Potter himself. Issue amicably resolved finally when we realised we were up against something (or rather someone) with definitely atleast double our muscle weight.

Meesa then let my hair down at the dance floor resulting in The Reptile, Jugga and the Divine Lady getting drenched in my sweat. If the Reptile is reading this, I would like to put the point across that, ah I will be blunt, he is pathetic (and not even in the funny sort of the way). Such is the gutless nature of the Morons that The Bulk, The Sulk, Bihari Potter, Padhy actually didn’t even approach the dance floor. (There was candy everywhere! Stupid people!)

The debate competition provided fun with every Tom, Dick, Harry, Sita, Gita, Rita coming to express his/her opinion. Okay but in hindsight it was as the Bihari Potter put it, “Aaj to dekha aur kya dekha! Koi kuch keh bhi nahin sakta.” (We were the judges if anyne still hasn’t fathomed it out.)

Now, here comes the real fun part. Meesa had to go to Delhi to escort The Doctor. Accompanying me on my way there was none other than (as I had later found out) the most happening RJ. Now, I wont go into the details of our sojourn across to Delhi. (Personal inquiries are always welcome!) but people were JEALOUS, and when I mentioned a “Good Bye hug!”, well you know what I mean right?

The Sulk and Sheldon Cooper have their own take on things, and were fighting over plagiarisms of each other’s blogs. See that is what is called “delusion of grandeur”. One joke later and we were all into the rock night. Doesn’t’ matter how pathetic the band, just go nuts! Entry, it turns out was closed as there were already too many people. My popularity quotient (and this time I am dead serious) came to the rescue and the people actually ushered us in. A vodka shot, some prestorika and after a half step down, I sit here typing this out!

Oh and did I mention I haven’t slept for 48 hours straight?

Yea, I thought something was amiss! It really was happening!

And yes Dela! While we were discussing Ents destroying Isengrad, I saw damsels looking at us with utter astonishment! Maybe it pays to be a geek! Howzatt Sheldon?

They make loving fun!

I admit, I had thought of blogs on a variety of topics but like most good things, this is a stroke of inspiration. An inspiration after watching 90 minutes of magic. The magic weaved by Manchester United. Like most of their performances which keep reminding you that not much has changed at the Theatre of Dreams for the last ten years,each backheel, each overlapping run bringing the same rush to the veins.

It feels funny somehow, if you look at it from a footballing perspective, one moment you are worried Chelsea have got such a attacking new manager who could take them to further heights the upcoming season. One OT fixture later, you put that all past you! You put all competetiveness aside and just relax and ponder on that one two Berbatov played with Rooney. Diatribes against other rivals almost start seeming like lowblows. Almost unfaithful to Man Utd itself.

Why am I writing this blog NOW when I probably was born to follow Man Utd? Hmmm…..Cant say! Don’t Care!

What matters is today I saw music in the making. Let’s take it from the top:

Van Der Saar- Can’t Get close enough (Black Sabbath)

Nemanja Vidic- Simple Man (Lynyrd Skynyrd)

Rio Ferdinand- Fire(Poets of the Fall)

Nemanja Vidic & Rio Ferdinand- Brothers in Arms(Dire Straits)

Rafael Da Silva- New kid in town(Eagles)

Patrice Evra- I like Dirt(RHCP)

Darren Fletcher- Every rose has its thorn(Poison)

Ryan Giggs- Pianoman(Billy Joel)

Park Ji Sung- No fortunate son(CCR)

Christiano Ronaldo dos Santos- Master of Puppets(Metallica)

Wayne Rooney- Highway to hell(AC/DC)

Dimitar Berbatov- Time(Hootie and the Blowfish)

And the One man to rule ‘em all, One man to control ‘em all:

Sir Alex Ferguson- Stairway to heaven.

Heard a sweeter symphony anyone?

Emothundi!

“Peaceful” would definitely be the last word for my holidays. With a 75-km trek to contend with(not that I am complaining in hindsight), the concept of being “laid back” definitely took a turn on its back! Much like my walk during the whole of the trek and therebeyonds (slow as a snail, steady as a tortoise), I write this blog on some of the observations and reflections that crossed me during the past few days:

· Mohit really knows how to bluff. Trust me if you saw him pull off the tricks he did, you would stop playing cards. (and if you don’t get the double entendre of the statement, you probably have no life.)
· Dogs have a natural liking towards me. (who said likes repel?)
· When you are dehydrated and exhausted near passing out, the thought of Nicole Kidman (and glucose ofcourse) serves as a good energy booster.
· The thoughts of a 6-year old on love and relationships old are more logical than the students of IIT Roorkee.
· A whistling rendition of the “Smoke on the water” riff impreses girls.
· Going on about the differences between grunge and industrial rock doesn't.
· Amitabh Bacchan celebrated his 66^th birthday.
· Sonu fell in a borewell.
· That’s it! That’s all I thought during all of the previous ten days!

Sharp brain I have, return I shall with more!

Confessions of a Nostalgic Mind

I guess its not me alone who has noticed that life has turned mundane all of a sudden. Senor Lefty went ahead and wrote a blog about it. This put me thinking (you have to realise the gravity of the situation, its not very often I “think”) on my past two years in the insti. To back it up, a trip to RJB completed the nostalgia that I had been feeling for the past week.

Seems funny, how trivial a thing such as getting a non-ghissue kid as your room-pota puts your mind at ease and the jubilation you feel when you notice your “NAHAANA SAKHT MANA HAI!” peeking out from the door of the still dilapidated cupboard. Now the song Puraani Jeans was good but then it didn’t mention “woh karna orkutting doston ke saath”.

Back to the present now, and a caught proxy brings the same chuckle it used to bring back in the first week of the first year. The mess food bring the same grimace that it used to bring back on the first day of the first year. A nine o clock starting day seems heaven when compared to an eight o’ clock starting day. Some things never change!

Some things that do change however are the following:

1) You realise cleanliness is next to Godliness. But time doesn’t permit such lavish pursuits.

2) You start giving due respect to girls. Never ogle at one for less than five minutes.

3) You realise the pathway to immortality is having a “committed” tag.

4) You use your clothes judiciously. Ab daag acche hain!

And then people like me get oppurtunities to bug people by actually having their opinion put in the college magazine!

Life is great!

p.s.- The blog was partially an attempt at coming up with meaningful sentences and partially an attempt to keep my blogger account active!

New Pin Ups!

“ I want a new tour bus full of old guitars

…..my own star on Hollywood Boulevard

Somewhere between Cher and James Dean is fine for me!”

I walked the ramp today.

* The following story is based on true events. Any resemblance to an awesome person and a not-so-awesome one are not coincidental but merely solid truth.

Sweaty Teddy:“Cmmon! Lets go!”

The Hunk: “Where to? Cant you see I have just started ghissing?”

Sweaty Teddy: “Abe…..remember Vogue auditions!”

Narrator: Vogue is the fashion parade of the cultural fest of the college The Morons goto.

The Hunk: “Are you out of your whatever little mind you have left or do you actually think with your rear?”

Sweaty Teddy: “This is important for me and how pathetic would it look if I went there alone?”

The Hunk: “Not as pathetic as it is looking right now!”

Sweaty Teddy: “Cmmon! Rampwalk!”

God: “Go on Hunk! Its okay!”

The Hunk: “Okay! Let us see….what rampwalk feels like”

Narrator: And hence set out the duo of Sweaty Teddy and The Hunk ala Turner and Hooch style. Now true to his name Sweaty Teddy has the tendency to develop extra large sweat glands whenever a member of the opposite sex approaches. So needless to say he was walking towards a sureshot calamity. Thus they entered the arena.

The Hunk: “Yeah we are here…. now what Teddy? Teddy? Teddy!!!”

(Teddy is crouching behind a tree approximately 20 metres before the entrance to the theatre)

Teddy: “Oh my god! There are so many girls!”

Hunk: “You were right! This is pathetic! Thanks for showing this awesome display of girlpower!”

(After 15 minutes assuring that he will return alive, Teddy finally enters the arena!)

Narrator: It was Hunk’s turn to set ablaze the stage first. True to his name he walked and boy he walked! Then quite contrary to his name when he was supposed to quote on “Why you want to join Vogue?”, he went ahead and just flashed his million-dollar-smile and two thumbed thumbs up for all the flashing cameras! Actually, just the one camera in his case.

Then walked Teddy, actually "walk" is not the right term “controlling your run so that others don’t know your hind is on fire” is better! His words of wisdom then were “I want to join Vogue because I think its all about fashion and style!”

But alas, there is one character who in this whole story turned out to be the backstabber! You see, God isn’t as serious as people make him out to be. Teddy qualified for the second round and Hunk was kicked out!

As we now see Hunk’s room, Teddy is abusing him for calling himself “Hunk” and is wondering why on earth he is being called “Sweaty Teddy”!

Still Smelling Like Teen Spirit?

As I write this, I share my room with another fellow “human” who is yelling profanities left, right and centre while playing a Counter Strike match on our LAN. The Morons think its good to have their asses handed to them Hong Kong style once in a while by other clans of the hostel. Cause you know they aren’t exactly what one might call “professionals” at it and after some time, their idea of a good match is shooting and knifing your own teammates.

Well, I have my favourite playlist now in my ears so I can safely and whole-heartedly get back to the business of writing my final blog before I lose the much coveted “teen” status. One of the first things, nay, THE first thing that strikes me is the fact that despite turning twenty I still retain some of the qualities from my childhood. Like the fact that I always sleep on my stomach or the fact that I can use both my hands with high dexterity while eating food (a quality which is surprisingly lost when I get raped in FIFA by every Tom, Dick and Harry.) I guess everybody has some unbreakable links with their childhood. Mohit mentioning how he had fallen on his head(thus doing irrepairable damage) while he was six years old comes to mind.

Sadly though, I cannot say such a thing about my teenhood. Mainly for the fact that teenhood has been associated with every vice a person can possibly contract. You know, the articles in the newspapers that go “Teens…..”. I always used to count myself one of the odd ones (I wont use the term “lucky”, my idea of good and bad is “weird”!) as I used to read those articles, or for that matter notice the happenings around me more as a spectator rather than a fellow teen. One could attribute it to my high maturity level, I mean c’mmon who wants a piece! But also to the fact…..nope I think the “maturity level” thing is most plausible explanation.

Jokes aside, as I step into twenty-dom I will become forever a person who is expected to be serious and, like I once remarked to a friend, probably wont ever be allowed on bouncies again! Sigh!

So it is with these solemn thoughts that I enter my life as an adult.

Happy Birthday to me!

Poly ticks me off!

The term “fad” is something that has different meanings to different people. To most of the intellectuals or for that matter, pseudo-intellectuals it provides an opportunity to analyse (in a certain MR. Harsha’s words): What’s going on? To others it offers an opportunity to change themselves according to the way the world is changing.

Some of the recent fads that the author has noticed range from the trivial (like putting up “bachpan” photos on orkut after scanning them onto your comp) to the not so trivial (like people whom you had thought dumb(literally) speaking up and standing for the post of whatnot during the college elections).

Putting trivial things aside the latter is the subject of my blog today. As I write this there goes another procession by my room. A group of 5-10 people vouching for one person and trying to convince everyone why he should vote for that guy.

Let me make myself clear that I’m not against politics per se. I think politics as we see it in India is probably the most advanced system by far as compared to any other country. I mean the best that John McCain could come up with was comparing Barack Obama to Paris Hilton, who herself went on to say if left upto her she would paint the White House pink. So that really does make our politicians sound like solid nationalists when they talk about aspects other than dumb blondes and their sexcapades.

Yeah well, coming back to the topic: College politics. It came to my knowledge (and utter amazement) that some of the Morons had tried to stand up for posts. The prime example being none other than Mr. Mohit. The guy filed his nomination for the post of “Wing Councillor” ( a sort of MLA if you call the hostel a “country”). His application was rejected. The reason was (brace yourself): he had forgotten to write in his application form the wing for which he wished to be considered.

And I thought only George Bush among the politicians was dumb!

Another Moron stood for the post of Bhawan Secretary (analogous to President) but eventually backed out after he was threatened with (so they tell me in hushed voices and brace yourself again): Kidnap!

Yeah well, my brother threatening me with a broken leg when I interrupt him watching “Transformers: The Animated Series” sounds more realistic!

Anywhoo…..you might call me a deluded soul and say: The guy doesn’t know a thing about politics!

Maybe I don’t but in the immortal words of Joker I would like to ask the college politicians just one thing: “WHY SO SERIOUS?”…..you see after being this big a cynic my status message on gtalk still goes: “Down with flu….cant play poly poly! People tell me its fun!”

p.s.: “Poly” is college for politics

p.p.s: After Mohit had learnt of his rejection he had so wisely said: “Its good they rejected me! I mean what good can a person do if he cant mention his constituency in his nomination form!”

p.p.p.s: I have a sore throat and an amazon for a nose currently, hence the reference to “flu”.