Why Mayawati Should Be made The Prime Minister of India...

The following article is the aftermath of the last PSF session I attended. The outcome of a Group Discussion given to a group that comprised of only seniors except Ravi...while me n Estee sitting ryt at the back cudn't help but make spoof of the discussion thence going on...The topic of the GD was "What if Mayawati became the next PM of our country"...The observer of the GD claimed it would be very difficult indeed to speak IN FAVOUR OF the topic, but we made Tough jobs Rough!!!

Chk out!!

1.) Micronesia or something completely analogous made out of India (with no islands)...the ninth wonder of the world...would hence boost Tourism.

2.) She'll send a fleet of planes to fetch each and every POW of India from countries as far as Somalia and as near as Pakistan alike. An honor they so rightfully deserve...She may also absolutely send something as extravagant for each pair of shoes, clothes and utensils they managed to scarper over these decades.

3.) India shall be noteworthy for centuries to come for her sculptural beauties depicting great personalities indeed like herself right from Kashmir to Kanyakumari, again generating a plethora of Tourism and revenues as a causatum.

4.) Gundas and other uneducated people which form a respectable percentage of population of our country would be highly revered and employed, ample avocations generated for them--hence reducing unemployment to a great extent.

5.) Her birthday party will give students and professionals a holiday and ostentatious Party opportunities.

6.) Live-in relationships would be seen with an eye of titanic veneration, and laws amended to make them less nonsensical, and easy-to practice.

7.) Dalit pride, a la gay pride :)

8.) Narcissism would no more be a mental disorder. On the contrary, there maybe tailor-made championships for practicing the same.

9.) Birthday fund---a new, unassailable, and compulsory tax for rich and poor alike would inimitably increase Govt. revenues.

10.) Jaipur would be made the new capital of India, because it is the Pink-City!!!

I could therefore still not figure out why exactly did they find it soo troublesome to support Mayawati's candidature for becoming the PM of our highly esteemed country. Her appointment would replenish India with unprecedented pride and craftsmanship.

                                                                 __/\__

I stayed put

As once You jived to fervent folk,
of only what You craved to look,
Faraway, a shimmering haze,
Alas, but not what fireflies chase,
glowed, 'cross the burning walls,
And though awakened long lost light,
evaded all, but not Your sight,
Just like cinders in the past,
gave glass slippers to maidens fair,
And not unlike a spiral pupa,
My bee shall always let You go....

I shall wait for lest you climb,
The high hung hills, the clouds ninth,
And that shall You ever provoke,
The stifled supremacy of my broke,
The guild of guilt will all be gone...

What their raucous cries could not,
What my gentle prods did not,
Did your wordless going away,
made me stay put where you chose?

You know you grew up in India in 90s when....

This is a plagiarised post picked straight from IITBombay Bakar...as nowhere did they mention abt it being subjected to horrendous copyright infringements, I promptly grabbed the opportunity to enhance the non-elegance of my blog to ever non-sustenable levels...
Do chk...makes a nice read!
1) You know the words to ‘In-pin-safety-pin’ and ‘akkad-bakkad’ by heart
2) Cricket is almost a religion for you, and you idolize at least one of Rahul Dravid/Sachin Tendulkar/Saurav Ganguly.
3) You have read at least some Chacha Chaudhary or Tinkle comic.
4) You’ve watched Shaktimaan on TV at least once in your life. And you can immediately recognize the character when you see him.
5) You have some NRI relatives.
6) You couldn’t wait for it to be December so you could have the Toblerone chocolates your NRI relatives brought you
7) You watched Cartoon Network, and then the late night movies on TNT that came after Cartoon Network ended.
8 ) You watched corny dubbed versions of Small Wonder, Silver Spoon, and I Dream of Jeanie
9) You were THRILLED when McDonald’s opened in your neighborhood (or even eight kilometers away)
10) A visit to Pizza Hut used to mean a special treat
11) You have seen Kuch Kuch Hota Hai and Hum Aapke Hain Kaun at least 5 times each
12) You still remember the theme song of Hum Paanch. (Hum Paanch, Pam Pam Pam Paanch!)
13) You have played hours upon hour of running and catching, chor-police, lagori, saankli, ‘Doctor, doctor, help us!’, ‘Lock and key’
14) You have seen girls play “Amina Super Sina” more times than you can remember. (And you still don’t know what it means!)
15) Dog ‘in’ the bone was your favorite co-ed game.
16) Much of your free time in school was spent playing UNO.
17) You collected trump cards of wrestlers, cricketers, and airplanes, and did not quite understand why your younger siblings were obsessed with Pokemon and the other Japanese trends that followed.
18) Your summer vacations were often synonymous with visiting your grandparents or cousins
19) Your parents, at some point, told you ‘Dark Room’ was a bad game to play. But you still loved playing it.
20) Bole mere lips, I love uncle Chips!
21) You know the song ‘Made in India’ by Alisha Chinai
22) You have seen many many many episodes of ‘Antakshari’ on Zee TV and know the only thing constant in the show is Annu Kapoor.
23) Many evenings have been spent watching little kids gyrate vulgarly on Boogie Woogie on Sony.
24) You were the coolest thing in class if you had a computer in your house while it was still the 90s.
25) You learnt LOGO and BASIC in school!
26) You couldn’t wait to start 4th standard so you could start writing with PENS instead of with pencils!
27) You often used terms and phrases like ‘two-say’, ‘same to you, back to you, with no returns’, and ‘shame shame, puppy shame, all the donkeys know your name.’
28) You most probably saw Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge at the cinema at least once. You also fantasized about singing songs in mustard fields as in the movie.
29) You have seen David Dhawan and Govinda movies and laughed at them.
31) You have said ‘haw’ or ‘yuck’ when you saw people kissing in English movies. (nowadays kids are used to it!)
30) Titanic was your FIRST favourite english movie.
31) You thought seeing English movies and speaking English made you the coolest thing ever.
32) You remember the Gujarat earthquake very clearly and could possibly tell everyone EXACTLY what you were doing when the earthquake occurred (yes, this happened in 2001, January 26, 2001, to be exact — but this group is about the things that Indian kids that GREW UP in the 90s remember and identify with).
33) Barbies for girls, and GI Joes for boys were the ultimate status symbols. You just wanted more more more and more. And how can I forget Hot Wheels, for both boys and girls?
34) You thought ‘imported’ clothes were definitely way better than ‘made in India’ clothes (never mind that a lot of clothes brought from overseas by NRI relatives were actually made in India, before ‘Made in China’ started appearing on EVERY existing thing)
35) “Jungle Jungle Baat Chali Hai Pata Chala Hai! Chaddi Pehen Ke Phool Khila Hai Phool Khila Hai!” You watched “The Jungle Book” every Sunday morning at 9 a.m. and just loved mowgli, bhalu and bagheera. A few years later, you watched Disney Hour, which had cartoons like Aladdin, Gummy Bears, Tail Spin, Uncle Scrooge!
36) At some point or other, cool was your favourite, and therefore, most overused word.
37) Captain Planet was your first introduction to environmental consciousness.
38) You have tried to convince people around you to not burst crackers on Diwali, and then gone straight back home and burst them yourself.
39) You have had endless packets of Parle Gluco G biscuits, and of Brittania Little Hearts biscuits.
40) You loved licking off the cream from the centre of Bourbon biscuits.
41) There were no Nike, Reebok, Adidas, Puma- Bata and Liberty was the way to go for your sports shoes.
42) You have probably consumed more Frooti in your lifetime than there is oil in Iraq.
43) You watched Baywatch on Star World when nobody was home even though (or because) your parents said you shouldn’t watch it.
44) You bought packets of potato chips for the specific purpose of collecting Tazos. And you had Tazos depicting everyone from Confucius to Daffy Duck to Daffy Duck dressed as Confucius.
45) For the longest time, the Maruti 800, the Premier Padmini, THE Fiat, and THE Ambassador were the only cars you saw on the road, and the Contessa was cool because it was bigger.
46) You would literally jump up in excitement if you ever chanced upon an imported car (Oh my gosh, is that really a MERCEDES?)!
47) You spent a good part of 1998 drooling over the Hyundai Santro and the Daewoo Matiz , debating which one was better.
48) You used to Fuzen gum. You also chewed Big (big) Babool and/or Boom Boom Boomer chewing gum. They were bright pink and disgusting tasting, but you loved them for the temporary tattoos.
49) Talking of temporary tattoos, you sometimes had contests with your classmates about who had more tattoos on their arm, leg, knee, hand, forehead, wherever.
50) You thought Mario and Contra were the coolest things ever invented, especially if you were a boy.
51) You knew that having the latest Hero or Atlas bicycle would make you the coolest kid on the block.
52) You can imitate Sushmita Sen’s winning gasp to perfection.
53) You have, at some point of time, worn GAP clothes (real or fake) like SRK in KKHH.
54) Seemingly senseless acronyms like SRK, DDLJ, DTPH, KKHH actually make sense to you..
55) You have at some point debated who was more beautiful- Aishwarya or Sushmita.
56) Baskin Robbins ice-cream was THE thing to have!
57) You know what Campa Cola is. And you also knew that Coca Cola was THE drink.
58) You would watch WWF keenly every evening/afternoon and loved Bret Hart “Hitman”! really thought Undertaker had seven lives and he made an “actual” appearance in the Akshay Kumar- starrer Khiladiyon ka Khiladi.
59) When all backpacks (or ’schoolbags’) and water bottles and tiffin boxes had strange cartoon characters that were hybrid versions of seven or eight different characters, and you still bought them, because a green man wih a water pistol, boots, a jet-pack, Johnny bravo hair, a rajasthani mustache, gloves, and underwear (long johns) over his pants, called ‘Mr. X’ was OBVIOUSLY a status symbol.
60) You remember the Nirma tikia jingle.
61) You remember the Nirma girl.
62) You remember the ‘doodh doodh piyo glass full doodh’ ad and also the ‘laal kaala peela, gulabi hara neela classic hai badia bristles wala’ and ‘roz khao ande’ ads.
63) You grew up reading, if you read at all, some or all of Nancy Drews, Enid Blyton books, Hardy Boys, Babysitters Club, Animorphs, Goosebumps, Sweet Valley series, Judy Blumes, and Tintin, or Archie comics. Because naturally, reading foreign authors made you much cooler than reading Tinkle.
64) Towards the late 90s (1998-99) at least some of us started our Harry Potter obsessions!
65) You absolutely HAD to go to Essel World if you were with cousins! “Essel World mein rahoonga main, ghar nahin nahin jaaonga main!” (I never went but always dreamed of going there!)
66) You watched the Bournvita Quiz contest on TV pretty religiously. The smarter ones amongst you actually took part in it and had your entire school and your entire extended families watch you on it!
67) Maggi 2 Minute Noodles = ultimate snack (and tiffin, lunch, dinner)!
68) If you grew up in the early 90s, you recall the nation’s obsession with Mahabharata on TV
69) If u keenly watched Johnny Sokko and His Flying Robot on DD2 (there was a DD2 then)
70) And eagerly waited for the Saturdays to watch Rex Smith, the man n his machine on Street Hawk (that intro music was awesome)
71) If Byomkesh Bakshi was ur favourite detective serial n u waited with baited breath for Thursday 8PM (It was the first serial 2 cross the 30 min slot, it had a 45 min run)
72) And inspite of that u couldnt miss Tehkikaat, Tiger or KaramChand
73) Your parents always reminded you that Buniyaad still was the all-time best serial n directed by the Sholay director Ramesh Sippy
74) Kavita Choudhury was ur woman of substance and Udaan the best women-oriented show
75) Dekh Bhai Dekh and Movers n Shakers formed an integral part of your weekly routine
76) Playing Prince of Persia in those old DOS-mode-days seemed 2 be the most thrilling experience.
77) In the later 90s, you religiously followed Hip Hip Hooray on Zee. Maybe Just Mohabbat on Sony too
78) You eagerly awaited Friendship Day, so you could give friendship bands to all your friends, and get bands from them in return. Then, of course, those with the most bands loved to show them off .
79) Backstreet Boys’ “Quit Playing Games” was one of the first English songs that you LOVE!
80) This list made you smile.


It did indeed make me smile...I happened to score a 72 outta 80...
I SOO GREW UP IN INDIA IN THE 1990'S!!!

The Sudden Beauty

Amidst the hazy, glowing sheen,
You shall see what's always been,
The misty blue, the apple red,
The playful qualm of brownish dead.

How you saw not meadow hays,
snaking rivers, pebbly bays,
Never ago, did you wonder,
The blackish bandidas of hunger.

'You assent tears behind,
Are they what had been your kind?

They see not a heaving heart,
nor creases on your last-worn shirt,
They beckon no departeds,
hunting reasons those never existed.

The walls shall be repainted,
Vanish away will all tainted,
All that you did never pen,
Unheard they shall ever remain.


You shall miss not candid play,
Was such vital going away?

Walking the line with Guiltless Grewal

   

As The Higher Engineering Mathematics by B.S. Grewal(wow!!I am astounded at the fact that I have managed to learn by heart atleast the name of the book in almost three semesters, if not its contents :P) lies open on my lap without me glancing at it  even once in the past one and a half hour, as the film, ''Walk The Line" goes on in the background of this blogger update page, with the legendary Ring of Fire playing on in yet another background citing the orange-white striped road blockage sign, I am really getting into the feel of my yet another shapeless, spineless attempt at giving words to the colossal fervor of chemical stringing and unbinding going on inside the negligible amount of grey cells that I actually use.
Phew!!My English teacher would have "face-massacred" me right now if she would have spotted the number of words in the sentence above. She always put a word limit to my passages, essays and recently, my sentences. Technically trying to improve my hold on the subject, and inspite of all my due respects to her in that regard from the bottom of my heart, I found, and still find it morally unethical. Yes, not exactly technical I am when it comes to English (and even engineering, much to the remorse of my exam papers. That fateful day isn't very far when I would write the story of Pyaar Ka Punchnama in my Basic Electronics paper, making BIT more celebrated than Datta Meghe College which cited DDLJ!!).

Yes, Walk the Line it is.
As the film starts with the life of young Johnny Cash raised amidst meadows and farmlands, portraying his dad in a poor light over the future of his to-be-famous genius kid, Cash junior and then lengthens into the beginning of his career as a gospel-country-singer and performer, leaving behind his earlier career in air-force, I begin to notice the bias the film against his first wife Vivian Liberto. This bias can be justifiably understood as the co-producer of the film is the only son of the couple Johnny and June Carter Cash, who basically wanted to showcase the one-of-its kind love-story of his parents. Not denying the fact that the film is an excellent attempt to do the same and has done complete justice to its cause, I can't help feeling a tangible discomfort at the shrew image of Liberto that the film has cooked up. This somewhat scrupulously compelled me to sneak some peeks into the book by Vivian Liberto Distin, called "I Walked the Line: My Life with Johnny", which is her version of the life, lies and love she shared with the country-king. The major manifestation that this book has managed to achieve is the directly quoted, over "10,000 pages of love-letters" the young couple had shared when Cash was away in Germany, on a three-year tour as a US air-force employee.

 As that deserved not a brief, but a detailed towering over, I sat down(taking tips of course, as my teenage rushes away from me faster than ever before :) ) reading major chunks of it. The letters fastidiously evade the profuse negligence the film has illustrated within the character of Liberto, also defying the psychotic musing as a typical, non-loving and uninterested celebrity-housewife image shown. Vivian seemed to be as much irrevocably in love with Cash, as June Carter was, in the twilight of her life, if not more. True, June Carter was the impersonation of Cash's dream, but Viv was no less than the pioneer of the same. Vivian only blamed Johnny's new-found career when he fell a victim to extensive drug abuse, as a result of his unsuccessful attempts at drawing parallels between his flailing family life and the steep-rise of his music career. As the film almost follows a sine curve of impression for me because I incessantly flip between I walked the line and walk the line, failing to enjoy the essence of either of them.

I finally conclude and decide to return back to my Cursed Grewal with the cessation that I have executed to stumble across two unprecedented masterpieces canvassing both the sides of a Fiery ringed-coin===>Johnny Cash.

आत्मजा

मैं पंथ की पतझड़ नहीं,

बसंत की हूँ पूर्वी,

एक माया हूँ अपूर्वी,

अनादी एन देखा नहीं,

 मैं सूरज हूँ, पर ताप नहीं,

मैं रत का अँधेरा नहीं,

मैं स्वर्ण हूँ, गहना नहीं,

मैं मृगनयनी कस्तूरी,

                                         अनन्य मेरी है छवि,

                                         मैं रोशिनी की श्रेयसी,

                                         मैं गर्व हूँ कुटुंब की,

                                         मैं संत-नगरे वासिनी,

                   अनुपम, अविच्छिन्न अस्तित्व
                   की हूँ निरंतर तपस्विनी,
                   निर्संताप निः-संकोच विनम्रता 

                   की  हूँ अपूर्व स्वामिनी.

मैं हूँ तिमिर की चांदनी,

और भैरवी की रागिनी,

चकोर हूँ मैं चाँद की,

और दंभ हूँ मैं मान की.

more trivia :P

amazing!!!!
polyglot sala!

some trivia... (:))

this is a spoof of a recent development in a famous social networking site

disadvantage:::its NOT related to ashen yor...:P:P

u may see me landed in a grievous trouble if somebody does decode the answer(trust me..its not that tough)

:P:D:);)

this was described as follows:

see...dis is what ppl shud not do while explaining which COLLEGE they r from...
this looks so DESPOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO....

hahahahah...apt indeed

n i hv a pretty good idea who this is

;)

post ur guesses

and

ENJOY 

xoxoxoxoxoxxooxxoxoxoxo

STINKING syllables

M just back from a tiring one day tour from Patna....n the round trip is more than compensating for the blast I had at Rakhi at PomPom's...
Sorry for beginning my post as abruptly as dis, but the enormous baboon of emotions zipped up inside me were threatening to burst out in an alarming act of insanity, exampli gratia: smashing a glass tumbler, or maybe, tearing away my newly bought pair of Mangoes, et al...whatever, I hope u get the hang. So as soon as I reached my spider infested room in H9, I slammed open my laptop(i hate to call it a lappy...dunno why, just hate it), keyed in www.r, clicked on the first link that appeared in my browser's me-friendly address suggestions (ie. the name of this blog) and began typing at a perturbing speed, much to the chagrin of my roomie, as she, not unlike Sheldon Cooper, is strictly against manhandling electronic stuffs. (Incidentally, she is a female reincarnation of Cooper, just in case, for future references).
I am warning you, dear reader, this post is going to be all about the gory details of a puke-inducing, nose-wrinkling bus journey undergone on the roads of a state I would not name, lest I get a lawsuit of "maanhaani" slapped upon me by the torchbearers of progress of that state (two states actually, it was a cross state-border journey :P :P). I hence disclaim myself from all responsibility if my post adheres you to your Kara bags everytime you plan a jpurney out. :D. Just to get into the feel of the post, I behest you to close your eyes for a second, and picture a non-Volvo, non-A/C state government funded-cum-managed bus "facility". Remind yourself of the grease-smeared couches, the umpteen-times-used covers. Ah...now you get the hang, the Mango-destroying instinct should now be justly justified. And kindly don't mistake me for a spoilt and pampered brat with a high nose who makes a fuss of travelling in non-air-conditioned facilities...no, I just make a fuss when I have to travel in a wet weather, with sweat-stunk strangers as the sole companions.
""

Its raining heavily. (Moron grey). I have learnt to despise the overt kindliness of Indra quite on the contrary of the feelings I used to nurse for him. The early pangs of wondrous excitement these Indrajaal had managed to induce in me have been long faded into oblivion, leaving only utter apprehension when these rains don't show even the faintest signs of stopping before a bus journey I have to undertake.
I got a seat somewhere in the middle of the aisle (aisle is too posh a word for that murky piece of world, aisle reminds me of a marriage aisle, or on a lesser romantic note, of airplane aisles). Hardly anything to mention about, unlike, as it would have been if I got the front seat or the big five seater right at the back. I settled down for a blissful, ignorant nap, with undecipherable murmurs and ramblings of  my co-travelers. Until I finally grasped the impossibility of this unworldly idea, the damage had been done. While I was trying my best to keep my eyes tightly shut, trying to ignore the dubious amount of mud that lay just inches away from my feet, and the ceaseless croaks of crickets and cockroaches that seemed to be omnipresent, someone (and I have a pretty good guess who) had quite conveniently managed to rampage my bag from the overhead racks to the front of my feet and my water bottle lay rolling on the "aisle", in the company of some I-bet-yet-unidentified-species of arthropodas. That was the precise moment, I resigned to the fact, I would have to be a thirsty caravan for the rest of my 8 hours on that goddamn bus. I also calculated the amount of cursed and swearing labor it would be required of me to wash that bag that now lay at my feet and further, the number of days it would take to dry in this rainy season, and the out-of-budget-expenditure those extra mothballs would cost me. I already wanted to cry, shout would have been a better option,at the man  who did it. But the man looked burly, surly and was sure to know more Hindi curses than me. I shrunk away non-overbearingly.
I dunno when exactly I had my next nap, but have a horribly clear picture about when it ended, which was with the screech of the brakes of the bus that seemed to be built atleast two decades ago. As the lids of my eyes started tracing the curve it is supposed to, while opening, I scanned a lot many things in quick succession, as hence follows:
1.) At angle of approx. 30 degrees:::: scores of channa shavings lying scattered on my bag.
2.) At angle of approx. 60 degrees::::: the back of the seat in front of me had red stains that looked horribly like pan spits.
3.) At angle of (a little less) approx. 90 degrees::::the ceaseless dropping of rain on the poor, bald headed man sitting on the seat with its back, obliviously stained with red (I am optimistically not using the word "paan")...how the man could stand the phenomena that had an almost perfect resemblance to third degree torture remains a mystery to me.

Stench(of public urinals and of open-air waste disposal landpieces), I assure you, is the last thing I feel like discussing here. I am suddenly reminded of the new look of my blog, adorned with thick spined books and my favorite colors brown and orange....which doesn't deserve that.
Leela, the autobiography of Leela Naidu written by her and Jerry Pinto, then came to my rescue, and how grateful I am to PomPom for my rakhi gift, only me and my God know. It was a pity, to the tastefully garnished with selected photographs from her timeline, to read about the life and lies of that damsel, married, mother of twins, and divorced at an age of twenty, the muse and unpaid secretary of Dom Morae, the equally-at-ease-with-Indian-and-European bourgeois, amidst that environment, the book is a classic, fit to be cherished amongst the likes of War and Peace, White Moghuls, inside teak, wall-lengthed bookshelves.

Me n my tepid stupids

I promised a friend today I would try a more user-friendly style of writing my blogs, user friendly, as in, something which would actually egg the reader to read on further...so don't think I m being too wannabe-ish if u cud somehow grasp the sudden change in style...as i purposefully didn't want to use the word "unforetold" here....:P

ok, so here it goes again...the self obsessed blabbering of a fairy-believing, puppy-loving (naah, not in the literal sense pleez, i hate bitiks (courtesy: estee joe mathew) and puppies...it was just a way of putting it), khichdi-and-eggplant-hating, cheese-crazy, harrypotter fanatic. (fyki: PotterheadS are BORING...they soo luk at the wrong details of the story)...

Shittt...why does d sun always start glowing at the wrong moment??!!I prefer writing my blogs in cloudy weather, with no first and second half classes (seems it is an unrealistic inclusive set, which is deemed to intersect with an infinitesimal area of cohesion...n thats a self-cooked excuse for being shamelessly irregular   in my blog.) so I will stop writing now....

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.......

naah, its not that jobless a blog-post as u think it is...true i did stop writing then, but then, I sure didn't click the "publish" button.

yeahh...the weather has turned rainy again, the "Confluence" is playing in the backgound, n i feel like writing again...

WTF! what on earth m i supposed to write about...well..let's start from here...its just that, I never underestimate the power of stupids in a large crowd.

Stupids, should never be left out; they should always be taken into account while performing major financial or social operations such as cost-management in big institutions, renovation of financial and hierarchical structures...(cool!!! this special spell check feature in the rich-text editor at Blogger  just taught me there is no such word as "hierarchial"...its actually "hierarchical" :D n for giving this li'l bit of intel information, I have to endure that never-changed-since-the-advent-of-microsoft-wordspread-sheets red zigzag line under the word in question...i kinda dun like that...m a bit nerdy when it comes to spellings n grammars....must blame it on my catholic-school-upbringing) and also while planning big social gatherings like marriage parties, formal parties, (and allotment of dinner jackets..hehe), etc...

It holds unearthly powers...stupidity does. It could blow away film-shooting sets worth millions of rupees(Its important to mention here that I debated with myself for a few minutes before typing out this line...on the usage of the word "rupees", dollars seem no more classy...especially after the much acclaimed-in-BIT Standards n Poors (SP) fiasco, courtesy-Deven Sharma (ah!!red zigzag :(), who with all due respect is a BIT Alumnus) as shown in numerous Bollywood flicks at hapless comedy, one of which strike me at the moment as "Atithi Tum Kab Jaaoge"...
Stupids can exchange honey cans for wax cans, they could tell Sheldon Cooper's mom on him when he decides to procreate with Amy Farrah-Fowler, they could even tell on Harry Potter and company to McGonagall when they try to save the world from the resurrection of the back of Quirrel's head (Darn! I forgot Quirrel's first name). Sometimes they are such oxymoronic-geek-stupids, that they go ask for permission of profs before mass-bunking a class on the Raksha-Bandhan eve.
Ah! Now that I think about it all the three beholders of the above-given examples of stupidity are actually respectable people! (Yes, Penny too!)

Nincompoops and their respective (n repsectable) poops create a balance in the world-they are a chi to the other's cha's...they are yin to their yang, and I doubt if the star of David would ever have been complete lest they had been absent.

FootPrints

আমার মনের ব্যাথা অনেক...

তোমার মনের কথা অনেক...

সেই কথাটি জানলে পরে,

বিবরণ টি দিলে পরে

ছহু দিকে মানন্সয়ী,

সখা-সখীদের মাতম শুনি,

তাই যে বলি, বলব না গ,

আমার সেই বেথা যে

বললে পরে হবে না,

সেই একটা বনের মত,

যে ধনুর দমন তা ছেদী,

রিপুর দিকে দৌড়ে পড়ে,

এই কথাটা জানলে পরে,

কি রিপুটা রিপু নযে,

বান তা কহু ফিরে আসেনা,

সেই সময় দক্ষ ই,

তো মনের কালের কারণ হবে

তাই ভেবে আজ বসব না

নিজের মনের বেথা বলতে,

এই আসা নিয়ে যে কাল দিবাকরের কিরণ,

এই সন্দেশ নিয়ে আসবে,

মনের বেথাটি তোমারি কথা,

তাই বুঝব, সে ব্যাথা নযে...

UTTaR

करुना सागर कछु-किंचित,
हो चला है उत्कंठित,,
मौसम आकर जाने क्यों आज,
करके मनमाटि उद्विग्न,
फैले पर के आह्वाहन के,
रचे है जलमोती सागर के,
कोमल पर की छटा बिखेरे,
चले है जाए, चलते ही जाए,

श्वेत-श्याम का अंतर कल तक,
जो था फैला दसों दिशाओं में,
उन भूरे-बूढ़े नैनों में आज,
चन्दन  जैसे शीतल पलछिन,
चमक हैं आये, चमके ही जाए,

जब भूल गया था चाँद चकोरा,
और दीये की बाती थी रूठी,
जब धूने की तास्सीर भी,
पवन का दामन छोड़ चुकी थी,
टूटे तारे बन भगोड़ा,
अभिलाषा न करते पूरा,
आस हमारी उस दिन सुनकर,
जिस दिन माँगा था वो कल्कि,
येही रघुकुल का श्वेतोत्तर जो,
छलक है आये, छलके ही जाए...

I chose d one less walked upon

"Yes, thats exactly what I said, from ECE, yes sir..."
If I sit and count the number of times I spoke these words in the past four days, it would be just HUMONGOUS...thus, I on the behest of my ex-ECE-batchmates, have decided to give them a piece of my own mind by jotting down the exactitude of the supposed ECE blasphemy I have committed by changing my branch to Civil engineering....

the reaction that I received from almost all elderlies i know was nothing less than an atrocious, unbelieving, unblinking and uncomprehending stare, which signified a vibrant mix of emotions, ranging from disbelief, rendering me light-headed, or rather, barmy-headed is the word, "why-is this-girl here"...some girls actually had the audacity to ask me if I nursed some special feelings for a person from our batch in that branch...as if that fact would be reason enough for taking a decision as surreptitiously major as this...some people think i went there because of the minimum syllabus n maximum free classes in that branch...somehow, no one, absolutely no one except my mom-dad seemed to accept the fact that i developed a certain interest in that branch in my first year...the fact either seemed too flimsy to be believed, or too high-ended to be reasonably justifying their elusion. Mom n Dad were the only two people who seemed to accept the statement in the exact face value of it as i had related it to them. Maybe it was resignation, submission, or simply blatant trust.

Starting from the gatekeeper of the Dean admissions department, the clerk at the semester office, the re-registration doer, the hostel clerk, the endless number of deans, everyone needed explanation, the same reason, the same discussion with alteast 50 people,I am exhausted...n happily looking forward to a rocking career being a CIVIL ENGINEER!!!!

IMPROMPTU

While the tides sashay past,
the high hung, albatross mast,
The lone star hums blithe tunes,
devoid today of ancient runes,
unworried anchor, gratifying harbor,
no storms to warn of this eve,
A certain unmethodical hubbub,
composed of sole jollity....

Just like a faraway mass am I,
I glitter allright,
sad or bright,
the pursuit of my rapture,
being only,
the magnanimity of ur stature,

I look upon things as small,
as things like you but not them all,
I eye them through the bleak corner,
of my glittery sheens..
I m no mourner,
nor a growling bard,
as my love walks silently,
past the burning walls!!

Memorabilia

I sit down jotting memorabilia

and all I gather is a mass of meaningless cacophony

ranging from subtle whispers of the young me

to the fiery tempers of the teen-sie me..

from the me who lived in green meadows (read gadepan)

miles away from the nearest supermarkets

sashaying past the rural suburbs, I was proud of then

and one more sweep of a blink takes me

to the time, when chords were all I had

whether be them those of circles taught tirelessly in school

or be them those of my own cackly voice

I remember I got my bikethe last of all

and rejoiced it, basking in its delayed glory,

I remember too, my scooter that is now ogling absent

my computer which then meant nothing more than a wonder

complete with mice and tail swishes

yeah...when web was to be feared, not prized, like now...

associating them with diabolic spiders

whn i lived so faraway from town, streetlamps glowed,

when i left house as well as when i returned

at dawn and dusk...

when sarees meant a drape of of mom's chunri

when rain-bathing did not reek of fears of damaged tresses

to the time when we first were scared of how to lie

when boys asked us why the "partial" teachers took girls to the audi

and Harry Potter was all we could cook

when evening games were not divided on the basis of skirts and shorts,

when the dvent of hotpants and salwars were far into the future

to the time of which I remember nothing, more than white ruled sheets and dubious blue ink...

to the time thats yet to come, premonitored by goru-gaaris (read bullock carts)

and loreal lipsticks...

and mango bags and suzy smiths

which sadly are not just fruits and cartoons...

the end and beginning o many sorts

I was very excited. Not because I was going to my dream college or something, but because I was going to a college, which was very impressive according to many sites that got redirected from “I am feeling lucky” when you google “Top 20 engineering colleges of India”. I was one of those kids, yeah, twelfth pass kids, who think they are extremely evolved and have decided presumed opinions about almost everything under the sun. I was pretty convinced I wanted to graduate in something fancy, something out of the league, something that would get eyebrows raised when I would answer their rhetoric question, “so what are you doing, Beta?”-nuclear engineering, a branch of engineering I knew practically nothing about, except that it was a comparatively new branch of engineering, and a certain college down in Chennai had recently started teaching it. Only after attending the counseling and looking at the stark reality of things was I redolent that it was impractical to pursue such far-fetched notions. So, after undergoing many kinds of tribulations which involved tiresome persuasions from my well-meaning parents, the celebrated college mentioned above was duly and respectfully chosen and I was sent there with a respectable sounding branch-electronics and communication engineering. And after some time, I was only too happy to advertise it; after all I was not unaware of the magnanimity of what I now had. So the bottom line is that, I was happy and I reached college being so.

epithelial

PROLOGUE:
The wind is blowing fast-a bit too fast for my liking. But then, it was better than I expected, given that I was standing on the highest point my college could offer me. We had chosen a wise date for the dare as it is the last day of the second semester, precisely a certain basic electrical engineering exam in which the likes of eight and nine-pointers failed to make a mark in the mid-semester examinations. Somehow we were sure we won’t flunk in the end semesters that all the more increased our perseveration towards performing the…well not undoable, but the preposterous dare.
Visiting the bell tower-this is a feat all the first year students get in legacy from our seniors. We specially identified the need to visit this place after going through the album of one of our seniors in healthy detail. It emerged as a sort of “tashan” to steal to this place…especially as it was not allowed. The entry was a rickety spiral staircase that evolved from the out-of-bounds siren room, located just near the vice-chancellor’s office. The guard had been meaningfully positioned there by the authorities for carrying out three simultaneous duties that is so exclusive to the Indian way of doing things or rather getting things done, namely-barring access to the VC’s office during unofficial and inconvenient hours, ringing the sirens at exact intervals of fifty minutes signaling the end of periods and third (less tiresome and seldom responsible), guarding the staircase to the college terrace.
Our plan was well-made, and even better accomplished, that is so untypical for first time wrong-doers. But now when I think of it, sitting within the confines of my room that impedes absolutely every chance of stepping a toenail out of line, maybe this instinct was too well-honed not to be successful during the recessive periods I spent in my room at large with no one for company except me in the first semester. But that’s a different story altogether.
Yes-the plan. One of my less daring friends-Palashi was supposed to do this little bit for us; her share of contribution towards this plan-the necessary evil part of being one of us. She was to create a diversion by feigning to be confused about the complex labyrinths of passageways and involving the guard in her quest. Meanwhile, we were supposed to make a grab for the now-unguarded doorway and fly off towards the sky! And that we did. We successfully reached the terrace of or building, none of us were what one would call averagely tall, so we didn’t particularly worry about us being seen by the euphoric students frolicking in the grounds below. And we believed Palashi too much to worry about any intruders to our blissful bout of rule-breaking.
We glided up the staircase leading from the terrace to the bell-tower, and I ran to touch the bell, symbolically trying to ring it, signaling the end of our second semester of engineering studies. I was happy…very happy the way things turned out to be; especially after the murky details of the first semester. The subsequent years would be even better, I decided then. There. I narrowed my eyes, trying to blink away the tears, but Ravi saw me. I smiled apologetically; she looked away, choosing to ignore my gesture. I was thankful.

reshma aka ria

 Ria: Ria is an archi student..she was that sort of a person who is least bothered about the tribulations of her surroundings she would fall in love, repeatedly, dump and get dumped, FB, throw a cola party the night before the exams, undulatingly organise vodka binges and still top in the exams. strangely enough, inspite of being surtrounded by all sortsa bitchy girls, nobody dared bitch about her. she couldn.t be bitched about coz. and I, i adORED HER...IN THE TRUE SENSE OF THE WORD. everybody deep down wanted to be like her, i was one of the few people who dared to accept it!

Snippets from a myth!!

 """"""  I didn’t like Hindi movies; I was very vocal about my dislike of girlish oomphs, and about my frequently changing crushes…these were reasons enough for people from not-so-big-towns to dislike me, I myself did not belong to a hyper metro city, came down from a small city called Kota which had recently shot into fame owing to its now-flailing IIT-JEE coaching institutes, but I was somehow, unworkably, not one of them. And the fact that I belonged to the infamous NRI quota was the last straw for any person who would try to search for one small reason to befriend me…and she left the mission """"""

""""""  yesterday chhotomama came, he advised me to first form a theme for the story (theme for a dream ;))..n i thot n thot and struck this chord...the stheme of the story is that::::
a freshman's account of the exclusively freshman years at college. this real life account has it all.  Bad decisions made, and corrected, wrong friends chosen, and dumped, bad times and good, pathetic grades and well, not topping grades, but not-so-pathetic grades following. the only thing that remained constant thoroughout those couple of years was HOPE. somewhere deep down, someone long back once said: Everythings gonna be all right. And it all did.
but the question that lingers inspite of everything is What is right? is it what you think or is it what they decide? what matters to you most? you or the ones who care for u the most, or  those, whom u care for the most? inspite of us being capitalistically selfish, debatably egoistic, some people and what they think do matter, however minuscule the realisation maybe, but it does. and this changes the course of your life...

This story begins in the present that is me...in the holidays…in Doha…waiting for the third semester to start…with all the colorful details and confusing bits…the other flashbacks will come in eventually as the story progresses, following specific incidences that would remotely relate to some ongoing incidents.
dun wory girl, the progressing semesters would give u enough oppurtunities to look back into ur first semester and reflect reminiscently.

Nasim Mohammed, a nerdy-looking-but-as-far-from-being-onez-as-one-could-possibly-imagine guy from Saudi arabia, was the active member of the infamously elite group of the college, the NRI group. (yeah, it always took me a while before i realised i was an extremely redundant member of that group too..so redundant, that even the seniors throwing fresher's parties were unaware of the fact).  althpugh I personally did not find him particularly intolerable, yet, for me, the fact that he was one of them was reason enough not to strike any friendshippy string with him, inspite of him being in my own branch and batch, just one roll number preceeding me. Plus the disinterest was excruciatingly mutual. The end. He too was one of our frequent subjects of joke, in the realms of girly gossips that I used to share with Raveena and Erica. Everything he used to be  bedecked was a matter of sheer laughter for us. I stubbornly ignored any bright spot his persona had, him being a good elocutionist being one of those very few, and like ignoring Brutus' bright side, we used to make fun of every aspect of him, starting with his first name which according to me was a name good enough to be that of a domestic cat, his nerdy looks, his elucutionary skills, his over-politeness, his 100/100 in boards in math and his worshipping Sureeli (Ah! now that justifies my hatred) """"""


This name is derived from one of Shahnaz Hussain's product. It such happened once, I bought this product and showed it to Ravi. She immediately rendered that name fit enough to be awarded to a genie..as in Shamoon ki Aka. The only person close enough to be called a genie was this other NRI guy(another pseudo -NRI) called Mobashir Ahmed. I used to feel guilty everytime we talked about him, because according to what m y good senses always kept reminding me, he was simply not a person wwho deserves any kind os discussion within any kind of girl groups, least that being ours. His nick was Droopy-eyes, which I had immediately attributed to be a result of drug-consumption (prejudiciously) and his total disinterest in girls resulted in him beign branded as a gay by Erica. I shall not discuss about him any more here as I again am feeling that familiar guilt engulf me.

शितितल

शितितल की श्वेत शम्म है
हिमांश फलक पे विराजमान है
यूँ देख देख द्रवित हो उठे
मन माटी मेरा क्यों आज

समय की धारा न बहे हमेशा
कछु किंचित यह रुक सी जाए
कभी कभी विमुख हो जाए
कुछ ऐसी ही सांझ ई आये
बीत गए जो लम्हे वोह फिर
याद है आये, क्यों ये आये?
वो शाम भी कुछ ऐसी ही थी,
शम्म जले थे जिस दिन उस दिन
पहले-पहल तामीर व बातें
हुई थी उनसे, बीते दिन, वे मलिन मृत्तंश
दर पर मेरे जाने क्यों आया!
खोला जब दर मैंने देखा!
बस याद ही आई थी वो याद...

one ounce less

one night very famed
burgeoise blue, hand held,
it came n went, juxtaposed,
it never knew d capers caused

she held the emerald river noble,
and the stars saw her thru their tiny wings,
which spread over the glossy veneer
of the mirthless robe of tree bells

it flew, blew, roared n called,
the minx of murky pity, the hound.
silence o mute, tranquil, forsaken solitude,
it pricked the skins of loners nude,

ah ecstasy! it knew no bounds,
the hilary of woe
it spurred the souls of pitied, the envy
of words n actions, unjuxtaposed.

satiny satan said saturnalia
alas!had she heard,
or unawares was she taken?
or dd she knew, just an ounce less???

nay, she answered her guardian devils,
the penultimate whole,
the stain of beat betraying,
the taste of a wine age old...

ah! but just an ounce less....

THE SPOO(i)LS of KIIT....

I m not just back from the oxymoronic exhaustingly-refreshing trip from Bhubaneshwar. My first trip from my sophomore years at college. The occasion was The Kritansh-the annual techno-cultural fest of KIIT(Kalinga).

The trip started with my feather-headedness when I very piously asked my caretaker for a two-day leave from hostel on behalf of myself and Estee...and got heavily reprimanded in return and forced to roam around the campus in scorching heat with a furious Estee in tow, seeking OFFICIAL permission to leave the campus. I decide not to go into the details of this one as it is frustrating...believe me. On an equally extreme parallel, Pranshumaan was busy booking tickets for the trip...just one day in advance. Wow..Estee exclaimed as this was going to be her first experience with Indian railways ever...EVER.I think the thought itself made her fall sick that very evening. We didn't know what to do as the trip was scheduled for just the next day, and the tickets booked (in tatkal...which meant no cancellation :|)..We prayed and the next day she was as fine as she ever was...ready to sizzle being the pioneer of girls' quizzing in 2k10. As for the other foduus comprising our team...Vrudijones, Pie aka the Cre8r,darkwa, DJ, Agent Provocateur, Headphone wale Sangam baba and Atri-the hooker(!!)...I won't write paragraphs about them because none of them needs a description, and I aint verbose enough to achieve the feat.

We reached Bhubaneshwar in the wee hours of the 16th of February, after spending the entire previous evening playing mafia city.( was quiz discussed on the eve of our quizzing tour? except the occasion when Vrashank bhaiya said, "we never imagined quizzing in BIt would ever attain such heights"), which resulted in Shikhar being nicked the Hooker for the trip (AND strictly for the trip :P) Thusly, we loitered about the streets around KIIT before having our breakfast. We finally reached the venue after waiting outside the big yellow gate for about half an hour(the time doesn't seem that great in magnitude but waiting makes it worth)..the next shocker was the pocket-pinching and exorbitant participation fee for the event. We were like astounded, consoled, and after much bargaining by our Godly seniors, the show went on; I mean we went on...to the Audi of course. As soon as we settled on the cushioned seats another shocker awaiting us unfolded. Vrudijones pointed out,  sitting at the extreme corner of the audi where three quizzing champs from KGP, who according to us were a bunch of cheaters, because they claimed to be college going snrs, when the truth was just a li’l faraway from this fib, ie. They were passouts. But this would hardly made any difference as this was an open quiz. Turned out this was just the beginning of a yet-to-unfold series of events. In came the quizzing geniuses Kamal Rathi n company. A text from the godfather of Q-BIT, the humbly ignoramous scribbler, Prabhakar bhaiyya, put everything into its right perspective.
An ignorant-for-us round of prelims later, when the two senior teams successfully cleared it, we settled down to experience an awesome round of quizzing. Okay, we didn’t like some of the un-workable questions…but hardly anything to question about around ryt?!

In the end, after lunch session (which comprised of a cup of ice-cream for everybody and a fag or two for the frooti brothers) it was the business quiz encounter. After witnessing another bout of excellent quizzing, where the unbeatable quizzers of our college managed to win a deo(we were still awed seniors…very awed..really) and the team in gold(which yet again cleared the prelims…with a plausible margin) .
On a happier note, according to DJ, we WERE winners in a category called “naxalite-hit, college going students”...yayy to that!

I feel guilty to  mention the awesome time we had inspite of the mentioned spoil AFTER the quiz got over, which included a trip to Dominos AND Pantaloons(much to my excitement if not everyne else’s) and would thus skip to mention the return trip was which was quite uneventful as compared to the previous trip although we did feel that we had spent an age there in the stead of just a few hours..yes, we had aged…we had aged a decade in quiz…

NEER-KSHEER VIVEK happened…