The Engineering Song

(With apologies to Don McLean)
(To Be Sung To The Tune Of "American Pie")

A long, long time ago...
I can still remember,
How the studies used to be chilled,
And I knew that if I had my way,
I would ditch this shit and get a lay,
And, maybe, I'd be happy for a while.

But March made me shiver,
With every board exam paper I'd deliver,
Another good paper down the drain,
I knew my life would be a pain.

I can't remember if I cried,
When I read my engineering admission rites,
But something fucked up deep all right,
The day my creativity died.

So bye-bye, where does my creativity lie,
My brain was driven insane,
And the insanity was an engineering requisite, oh my.
And us good old students were drinking vodka and rye,
Singin', "This'll be the day that I cry",
This'll be the day that I'll let my creativity die.

Did you write the book of mugging,
And do you have faith in the art of proxying,
If the seniors tell you so ?
Do you believe in copying, without understanding,
Can attendance save you from the defaulters listing,
And can you teach me how to glass trace real slow ?

Well, I know that we all are hating it,
But we gotta put up with this shit.
We all kicked off our freedom,
Man, why is life so full of boredom?

I was a lonely student in VJTI,
With hopelessness and a tear in my eye,
But I knew there was no one sadder than I,
The day, my creativity died.

I started singing,
Bye-bye, where does my creativity lie,
My brain was driven insane,
And the insanity was an engineering requisite, oh my.
And us good old students were drinking vodka and rye,
Singin', "This'll be the day that I cry",
This'll be the day that I'll let my creativity die.

Now for four years we've been rotting in dust,
And our brains have all begin to rust,
But that's not how it used to be.
When the director sang for our orientation,
In a voice he borrowed from late night news edition,
And a disappointment that came from you and me.

Oh, and while the director was looking down,
The faculty stole our freedom crown,
The orientation was, hence, a success,
And all the students were a mess.
And while I read a book on our plight,(Five Point Someone)
"No Sitting and Laughing In the Quad" was enforced without a fight,
And we wrote assignments till late at night,
The day my creativity died.

We were singing,
Bye-bye, where does my creativity lie,
My brain was driven insane,
And the insanity was an engineering requisite, oh my.
And us good old students were drinking vodka and rye,
Singin', "This'll be the day that I cry",
This'll be the day that I'll let my creativity die.

Helter skelter in a summer swelter,
We all joined engineering without any shelter,
Eight days in and falling fast.
It landed foul on our lives,
The students tried to get future wives,
The resulting girls made us stab ourselves with knives.

Now the vacation air was sweet perfume,
While the students played a joyous tune,
We all celebrated a semester's culmination,
If only for of a brief reprieve from the oppression.
'Cause the students were finally free,
For a brief period that seemed as short as can be,
Do you recall how sad we were to be,
The day our creativity died?

We started singing,
Bye-bye, where does my creativity lie,
My brain was driven insane,
And the insanity was an engineering requisite, oh my.
And us good old students were drinking vodka and rye,
Singin', "This'll be the day that I cry",
This'll be the day that I'll let my creativity die.

Oh, and there we were all in one place,
A generation lost in space,
With no time left to start again.
So come on: Let's be mugging, Let's be proxying,
Let's all be students of engineering,
Cause boredom is our only friend.

Oh, and as I watched him on the stage,
My hands were clenched in fists of rage,
Only the noise from the lecture ending bell,
Could break that Satan's spell.
And as the stars climbed high into the night,
To light our sacrificial rite,
I saw the professor laughing with delight,
The day my creativity died.

We were singing,
Bye-bye, where does my creativity lie,
My brain was driven insane,
And the insanity was an engineering requisite, oh my.
And us good old students were drinking vodka and rye,
Singin', "This'll be the day that I cry",
This'll be the day that I'll let my creativity die.

I met a girl who topped the class,
And I asked her if she ever had a blast,
But she just smiled and turned away.
I went down to the football ground,
Where laughter and joy was abound,
But the watchman there said we couldn't play.

And in the classes: the students screamed,
The toppers mugged, and the back benchers dreamed,
But not a word was spoken,
The sanity of all was broken.
And the three things I admire the most,
The creativity, learning, and the ability to post,
They caught the last train for the coast,
The day my creativity died.

And they were singing,
Bye-bye, where does my creativity lie,
My brain was driven insane,
And the insanity was an engineering requisite, oh my.
And us good old students were drinking vodka and rye,
Singin', "This'll be the day that I cry",
This'll be the day that I'll let my creativity die.

They were singing,
Bye-bye, where does my creativity lie,
My brain was driven insane,
And the insanity was an engineering requisite, oh my.
And us good old students were drinking vodka and rye,
Singin', "This'll be the day that I cry",
This'll be the day that I'll let my creativity die.

With A Gun To My Head....

So I decided today, that come what may, I'll bloody well post. After my enforced sabbatical from the blogosphere, I sat down on my lazy ass and started typing. The past few days have been taxing, I wonder why it's so difficult to type out a bloody post. It's not as if I have to write out a serial for Ekta Kapoor or something. I always used to wonder why something, which used to come and flow naturally, has suddenly elevated itself to the most challenging activity in the world. Why, as the world blogs past, do I stay behind, all postless and lonely? Oh fuck, must be this stupid engineering college. At last count, all the tortured engineering souls in my measly blogroll hadn't posted ever since engineering restarted with it's satanical devices - assignments, lectures, submissions et all (An exception to this is Sneha, how she does it is beyond me). However, at least I've caught up with all the movies and sitcoms that I had to view/re-view. They have in turn conspired to keep me post-free, and I keep myself away from blogging to see them, it's a vicious circle I know. Anyways, to all the uninitiated out there, do read this wonderfully informative article to realise just what an average VJTI-ite goes through.

http://www.uncyclopedia.org/wiki/VJTI

A wonderfully well researched, informative article, that should enlighten one and all. God bless the soul who wrote that. Also, had a wild overnight this Friday night. This has led to speculation on my part, that maybe the stupor of engineering can be overcome by copious amounts of alcohol and smoke. Keep watching this space for more results on this interesting experiment. Apart from that, nothing much has changed. Life pretty much goes on as it does in engineering. In a rut. Also, I hope everyone celebrated friendship's day yesterday. I hope you all sent out thousands of messages, confessed your undying friendship through cards and all. Or maybe you became smart and realized that friendship is deeper than a SMS, or that the only one who really benefits from your SMS are the mobile companies. Or that, friendship is overrated, or that if your friends think you don't care because you don't forward them nauseatingly sweet sentimental hogwash (thanks Mesmerelle), then it's time to leave and get a new rat pack. Yes, as even a brain dead zombie will infer, I am at my cynical best now. So if anyone has any belief in eternal love or friendship, then trust me, dump it right now, it'll only leave you hurt sooner than later. On this sagely piece of advice, I'll withdraw, satisfied in my knowledge that I've posted and can hence remove the proverbial gun from my head. Thanks for reading and Cheers.

The Chronicles Of Alok - The Mirror, The Ohri And The Bra.

Seems like Harry Potter's the flavor of the blogosphere (surprise, surprise). I think, I've outgrown Harry in the last few years, I will read the last book, but only to complete what I've started. Not that there's much to read anyways, since Mumbai Mirror took it upon themselves to f*&k it up for everyone. Seriously Mirror, GO RAPE YOUR MOTHERS, YOU INCESTUOUS SLUTS. YOU FUCKING WHORES ARE GOING TO BURN IN HELL AND THEN YOUR INTESTINES ARE GOING TO BE FORCE FED TO YOU. HOPEFULLY, YOU'LL WALLOW IN SHIT AND EAT CRAP. I hate tabloid journalism.
The Revenge Of The Ohri - Imagine, it's the beginning of the weekend. You've set yourself up for a Prison Break Marathon. No breaks in between, just the way you like it. The drinks are cold and the grub is hot. The ice cream is chilling in the fridge and 11 episodes of prison break are queued for playback. Can existence be any more blissful? Suddenly after the end of the 5th episode, you feel like you've just crashed into another parallel existence. The actors, the music, the set and the main plot is all the same but it's all disoriented, disjointed. Dazed and confused, you review your play list, only to discover that the 6th episode was sneakily not given to you. Oh well, you accept that life's given you one of it's legendary kick on the balls and sit back and immerse the remaining weekend into the comfort of your life saver, the PS2.
It seems college, while providing plenty of fodder for the mundane, has a stunting effect on my creativity. I guess that's just the definition of an engineering college. Oh well, only one more year and the worst mistake of my life will blow by, sweet!!
Went and saw Zodiac the other day. It was a decent movie, certainly doesn't deserve a 8/10. It's horrendously long and indecently boring, but as far as a historical portrayal of a still at large, now defunct, criminal goes, it's highly watchable.
Just read today that the humble bra is celebrating it's centenary. We all know how important it is to the fairer sex, what with all the push up and the padding bra, then the ever comfy sports bra and the required strapless or transparent one to go along with that little black dress. All said and done however, kudos to the bra for occupying such a prominent place in the male mental constitution. Since, we were kids the bra was THE piece of clothing. I guess it's the one thing that women wear exclusively. Also, it covers the most beautiful and womanly part of her anatomy, and as kids, boy oh boy, the bra was special. A hidden fascination about it is also nurtured by the fact that it's got so many forms. There's the sports bra, the push-up bra, the transparent bra and lingerie etc. Also there's just so many sizes which chicks refer to, but which to us are just hidden codes. I mean, who the hell knows the difference between 24B and a 36A and all the millions of permutations and combinations that abound. The bra is a cultural icon too, what with such legendary songs alluding to it, such as "Choli Ke Peeche Kya Hain" (I know that "Choli" means blouse, but trust me, that's not how it was understood) etc. It's genuinely hard to think of a piece of everyday clothing in history that has fascinated the male sex so much. Ironically, all us guys seem to be desperate to reach that one piece of clothing, but most lack the know-how to open it with one hand. I mean, you would think that after so much preparation to reach the aforementioned piece of clothing, one would have spent time on studying how to unlock it. Anyways, most chicks make too much of a deal out of the entire "open-it-with-one-hand-and-don't-fumble-around" issue. So here's to the bra, the single most fascinating piece of clothing, an item which has, is and always will be occupying a prominent position on the female body and the male mind.
That's about all from here. Thanks for reading. Cheers.

My Readers Are Awesome

Right, first and foremost, a big legendary thank you to all who helped me with getting my hands on Prison Break. Special mention here to Raghav with whose help I actually landed the sitcom, though after our first conversation he must think I am a certifiable loony. Let's just say the conversation was so short and abrupt it made a lemon law scenario look like an eternity. More on that someday.

Also, I should warn you that I am currently experiencing a rather severe case of blogger's block. So though I will churn out posts with regularity, do not expect anything above par. However, I will keep on writing, not only for it's therapeutic effects, but since I believe that this is the best way to get over my current condition.

It seems that I have destroyed a personal view that I had about myself. See, in the past I was intensely proud about the fact that I could traverse the net and find anything. I regularly used to delude myself by saying that if it's on the net, then I can find it. To be fair, in the past I have never failed in the pursuit of anything online. A combination of google, net junkies and other factors have all conspired to enable me to find anything. However, it seems that for the first time, I've been stumped. I can't find out if there is any DC++ hub in Bandra (West). I've searched high and low to find a hub, while being tormented by my friends in Mulund, Thane, Powai etc. about the joys of a DC++ hub. In the end, even they admitted ignorance on a hub in Bandra and I was forced to accept defeat. So I was hoping that some one out there will be angelic enough to help me find out a hub in Bandra. For the uninitiated I am using Reliance (not the data card), so please please help and thanks a ton in advance. Cheers and thanks for reading.

Back To The Daily Grind.....Legendary

Well, college is back on, and it felt good for a couple of days to be back in the hustle and bustle that only 1680+ excited, confused, dazed, angry and (this is the perfect engineering student adjective) disillusioned students can create. Also, as is usual, am already dead bored of it. Apologies for the late update, the http had turned it's back on me, and was of the information superhighway (Author deserves to be shot for using such a cliched word) for a while. However, the good souls at Reliance Communications have restored order and all is good. The kick in the nuts, however, is that I have done nothing blog-worthy (Is that even a word? But thanks Sneha, for expanding my vocabulary) in the past few days. I did meet a co-blogger for the first time, will hopefully meet one more soon and saw copious amounts of "How I Met Your Mother". Capital sitcom that one, highly recommended and a break from intense stuff like Heroes et all. Also, if you do happen to catch it, you'll probably understand a lot of the terminology that, owing to degradation of my writing skills, will appear in future posts. So net hi-five (Okaaaay, so you can shut this window right now, I swear I won't blame you). Well thats all from this end. Also, if anyone can loan me the entire seasons of "Prison Break" and "Life As We Know It", then bored Alok will be eternally grateful. Thanks for reading. Cheers

Fate, A.K.A. The Pharaoh Holding A Dead Rat

Right, so 1370 in G.R.E. That's not half bad, especially as compared to my morbid expectations in the previous post. The theory that easier G.R.E. papers are set on American Independence Day is a runaway success, at least in my eyes. By the way, I should tell you that the title of this post has absolutely no connection with the matter written here. I just had to put it so as to show everyone what a certain reader has thought of my cavalier effort to portray Fate graphically in my previous post (Just wait till you pick up a pencil/brush dude, I'll be right over your shoulder). Needless to say, it had me laughing over the past few days. Personally, I think that being an Arsenal fan, he just lacks the necessary insight to understand. I mean, what can you say about a team that passes the ball 20 times in the penalty box and still doesn't score. To worsen matters their deluded fans often label it as beautiful football, forgetting to see that it's about as effective as a lace handkerchief in a rainstorm. Wake up fellas, the beauty of football is in it's effectiveness. At the end of the day, you gotta get a job done, period. Finally, as this post has meandered from being a G.R.E. score update, to the latest humorous review on my artwork and finally to arsenal-hating, I'll sign off with a few of my favourite "I Hate Arsenal" chants :

My old man said be a Arsenal fan,

I said "Fuck off, you're a cunt"

We took the North Bank in half a minute,

We took the the Shed with the Chelsea in it,

We Hammered the Hammers,

With carving knifes and spanners,

So I'll never be a Gunner,

Cos every cunts a runner,

That's what I told my old man.

If I had the wings of a sparrow,

If I had the arse of a crow,

I'd fly over Arsenal Tomorrow,

And shit on the bastards below, below,

Shit on the bastards below.

There's only one Arsene Wenger,

Only one Arsene Wenger,

With a packet of sweets and a cheeky smile,

Wenger is a fucking peadophile.

There's only one Sol Campbell,

There's only one Sol Campbell,

With a packet of sweets and a cheeky grin,

Campbell likes bollocks on the chin.

Vieira, whoa-ohhh

Vieira, whoa-ohhh

He wants to leave the scum,

Cos Campbell wants his bum.

Cheers and thanks for reading.

As You Sow....So Shall You Reap

Right, so I am screwed. Got to give my G.R.E at nine in the morning tomorrow, and haven't done anything. People complete the 30 boxes of words 3 times over, I've done the first 18 boxes once so far. Anyways, am way too apprehensive to write, so I think I'll just crash early (Yup it's actually 10:30, that's gotta be a record of sorts), and place all my hope in the one hope that I had envisioned when I selected my G.R.E. date, that tomorrow being American Independence Day, I may actually get an easier paper than on any other day. Anyway, on this fool's hope I'll retire now. Keep watching this space to see how badly it all went.

'TAG !!! Your It !!' And Other Assorted Posts.

Well it seems like I got tagged, so am supposed to write/blab/reveal 8 secrets. Unfortunately, these have to be pertaining to me (yeah, I know, takes all the fun out of it doesn't it ?). Anyways, before I begin, just a explanatory note about the title. I've decided to amalgamate a few posts, which I've been meaning to write, but were put on the backseat due to the dubious responsibility that being tagged has thrust upon me. Since the only thing I like on my backseat is a hot chick, hence I write all in this one post. Now, the secrets....

• Well, I am a big solitude fan. Though I have never shirked the company of people, my daily Nirvana is generally achieved by spending a few moments with myself. I guess this is manifested in the late night walks, the constant blaring of the mp3 player (heavy metal's awesome, cause it has a beat, and it's loud enough to make you forget everything) etc. I guess that is one thing that pisses me off about Mumbai, is how there are so many people here. I mean, why in the good lord's name do we have to open ourselves to every Tom, Dick and Harry ( 1000 squatters enter Mumbai.Daily). Just for once I'd like to spend a day in Mumbai not fighting for my inch of space, in a city that has none to spare.

• Whenever I meet someone new, I generally find faults with them. It's just this thing I do, I meet someone, we talk, and the next 15-20 minutes are devoted to my brain just coming up with as many first impression faults as it can. While most people tend to do the opposite, this is me. Sure, I'll become friends, and maybe even more (if it's a member of the opposite sex) with the person, but for starters I just find faults. It generally doesn't affect the future relationship much, but heaven forbid if I meet someone new, without trying to discover faults.

• I am naturally inclined to left-ees. Being one myself, if I meet someone who's naturally left handed, then I am generally agreeable towards that person, and would even risk overlooking some of the more obvious character flaws. All said and done, I like left-ees.

• I am an eternal romantic at heart. While most people who THINK they know me, will now fall off their chairs laughing, and confidently state, that my idea of romance is a king sized water bed and a contraceptive, I know that I like to hold my sweetheart's hand, go for a walk, come up from behind and kiss the nape of her neck et all. Sure, I don't aggressively promote the fact that I am a romantic (when you pass out from a boy's school, you tend not to do such things), but then, that's why it qualifies to be on this list.

• I am like this total movie freak. I download a movie every two days. It doesn't matter how it is, whether it's an unrealistic fantasy, or a love story with a bitter end, or an action thriller, or a total feel good teen romance movie, but I just need a movie. Movie's are a more integral part of me then most people realize. I don't only see them, I get totally engrossed in them. I generally try to incorporate what I've learnt from them in my daily life, I keep seeing them over and over again, or only once, but movies are generally my life.

• When I grew old enough to realize what direction I want my life to take (Ironically enough, I still don't know the direction. I know the destination, but the path eludes me), I made one promise to myself, on which I live my life, and that was to live life without ever regretting my actions. No, it's not that cliched way of living, in which I live like a loose canon, without looking back, without feeling sorry for what I've done. The crux of my promise was, that come what may, I am gonna live my life in such a way, without any preset notion of right and wrong, that all my actions which I take, I will never ever look back and be sorry for what I did. So all that I do, all my questionable vices that certain powers that be would like me to give up, I won't, cause I know that it's my choice, and I don't regret that. Hence, I am what I am, because I made a promise, that whatever I do, I'll think it over completely so that it's something that I won't regret later. However, despite my best attempts, I've made two stupid mistakes, that I really feel sorry for now. The newest one I will not divulge, it's been mentioned sporadically in the last few posts and I will fix it, come what may. The second thing that I am sorry for is something that happened in the first year, when I was caught, and which I deeply regret now. Apart from this, my life is guilt-free, and I am generally a happy person because of that.

• I am a total night owl. I love the nights and can stay awake for as long as it takes. I don't need much sleep, a 15 minutes nap is enough for me to survive the day. Whether this is due to staying awake at nights, or I am capable of staying awake due to this, I can't say. What I do know is that, I generally stay awake at nights, go to sleep from 4 to 8, but am capable of falling asleep at 11 P.M. and sleeping soundly till 10 the next morning. I love sleeping for 10 hours, but am equally efficient when I sleep for 10 minutes also. I am thankful for this gift of total control over my sleep, it enables me to catch up on a lot of stuff.

• I am a coffee fanatic, a dog lover and a connoisseur of rock music. Just to clarify, I hate tea, I'll pick a dog over a cat any day (though am not averse to the company of felines) and am mostly musically intolerant to anything except good old rock.

So there you have it, my 8 secrets, those are definitely not all of them. I think these are the most fun one's, to satisfy the voyeur in all of us. So now, I have to pick out 8 equally daft people to continue this exponential game of TAG. Right, so the usual suspects are :

1. Raj
2. Sukanya Doshi
3. Raghav
4. Pratap
5. Dimple
6. Ankur
7. D
8. Sneha (Right back at ya dudette. Sorry, didn't have anyone else to complete the list)

Some of the people in the above list are there to fill up the list, some are there cause I don't know them so well (Dimple, Pratap, please don't stop visiting my blog after this), some are there cause I know them too well (Ankur, get writing mate) and some are there cause I really dig their writing and wanna see what they can come up with (Raghav, Sukanya and Pratap).
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Life, As We Know It.

So I got up from a quickee (nap you pervert, a quickee nap) yesterday afternoon, and this idea for this image came into my head. I don't really know what inspired me, maybe a dream I was having or something (blank), but the idea was there. So I drew this silhouette, it represents my idea of what life is like. See, the woman on top is Fate, who sits on top of the donkey, that's us, and all our dreams and aspirations are represented by the carrot dangling from the stick. So all our life, we spend chasing the carrot, which hangs some distance away, the distance controlled by the stick fate is holding. It's just that some have to realize that the faster we go, the carrot is not going to come any closer, that the faster we move, the faster the carrot also moves, and at all times the distance is the same. While if we move slower, we can stop, relax, enjoy and then continue our pursuit of the carrot. If we get the carrot or not is immaterial, that depends on the lady, but what matters is how we chase it. That's all we can control really, how we can chase. And I like to believe that there is a god, who in the end rewards us all with our carrots, provided we have chased it hard and true.

Do I sound like a self help book? Yup. Have I blabbed along for far too long. Definitely yup. So I guess I'll stop here today, thanks a ton for reading.
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Death Of A Blog

This is a petition, a formal request to one Raj and a certain Miss D, intellectual copyright holders of the blogs "Twisted Intelligence" and "Glimpses" respectively. It has come to my notice that the above mentioned blogs have been suddenly and inexplicably removed from the blogosphere. It is my sincerest request that the blogs be revived at the earliest possible, not only because the owners are amazingly gifted writers, but also because they made the blogoshere a better place to write in. All supporting parties can leave similar words of encouragement in the comments section of this post. Thanking you.

Me, The Drug Addict.

A little conversation I had with my parents today evening

Background :
The conversation is played out in two parts. My mom was cleaning out my room today, she does this like thrice. Monthly. Seriously my mom's cleanliness drive will put Monica (from F.R.I.E.N.D.S) to shame.Anyways, M - Mom, A - Alok, D - Dad.

( Alok is on his way to the football field from the gym at roughly 8 P.M. when the phone rings)

M : Alok, where are you ?
A : On my way to play. Why?
M : Alok, what's this packet of RED HEART SHAPED PILLS (yup, you read that right) in your drawer ?
A : Mom, did you say red, heart shaped pills ?
M : Yes, and they're called 50 - 50 (just gets better, doesn't it?). I found them in your drawer.
A : Where in my drawer ?
M : In this little plastic pouch, with Benzer (that's a famous shop, in Breach Candy) written on it.
A : (Trying not to laugh)(Can you blame me, I mean little heart shaped pills ? What is this, left over candy from Valentine's Day.) Mom, I don't have any such pills stored anywhere in my drawer (and if I did, I wouldn't leave them lying around, on the day I know your gonna clean my room !!!)
M : (Slightly raised voice, never a good sign) Alok, I found these in your drawer. Where are you, can you come home right now ? What are these pills ?
A : No mom, I'm on my way to play, can't we do this after I finish playing ?
M : Why can't you come home, where exactly are you right now ?
A : Ermm...I'm somewhere between the gym and the ground, not too far off from reaching and in a small bye-lane, from where I'll reach in a few minutes, but not too far from the gym, so I can't come home. (When you can't convince, then confuse!!!)
M: Oh okay, come home soon

(End of act I, act II commences after the football game)
(I see 2 missed calls on my cell, needless to say whom they were from, so I call back)

M : Where were you ?
A : I was playing.
M : Where's your iPod ? I can't find it anywhere. (Clearly, the hidden secret of how I funded the purchase of these pills was being pondered upon.)
A : Mom, my pod is in my bag, so just relax naa.
M : Okay, come home quickly.
(I enter my house fifteen minutes later, Dad's having dinner. I am, of course, being scrutinised)
A : Hi mom. So let's see the pills. (When you're innocent, you can afford to be cocky)
M : They're upstairs.
( We climb up the stairs, me and mom only. Mom brandishes a packet in her hand, removed from her drawer)
M : What are these ? (And lo, there they were, little heart shaped pills, with the number 50 stamped on them and coloured a particularly hideous shade of red. It was enough to make anyone think they weren't ordinary.)
A : (Cockiness quickly evaporating. I mean, strange pills in my drawer, the gravity of the situation just hit, and it hit hard.) I've never seen these in my life before.
M : Alok, they were found in your drawer.
A : I've never seen these before. (When in deep shit - deny, deny and then deny some more.)
M : Wait, I'll ask your dad.( Dad is duly summoned.)
M : (To dad) Do you know what these are ?
D : (Looks at them, and then answers, cool as a cucumber) Yes, they're some headache pills that the doctor gave me, when you were out of town. Where did you find them?

( End of Act II )

Epilogue :

As it turned out, they were some harmless headache pills, a variant of the more common aspirin. Whether the manufacturing company were love struck idiots, or just possessed a poor (read : Warped) idea of what an aspirin should look like, I cannot say. Needless to say that Mom was suitably abashed at this, and dropped the matter there. Oh, and as far as the story of the number '50' goes, that was the simplest part of all. It was just printed, as is done in some tablets, to indicate the strength of the dosage. In this case, it simply stood for 50 mg.

So there you have it, of how I was accused of being into substance abuse (which, for the record, I am not. Yet.), and of how it ended, with an embarrassed mom, an unfazed dad (the doood that he is, he's still as relaxed as if nothing ever happened) and my untarnished reputation intact (rather, it was protected from massive amounts of further tarnishing.)

Walk On....

Seems like I misplaced (mentally that is) the predetermined opening line for this post. So all you poor souls will just have to make do. Anyways, seems like I have picked up my latest weird habit, not an uncommon occurrence, you might say. It seems that I derive great pleasure by going for walks late in the night.

I am, of course, not talking about the traditional late night walks, taken at round 11 in the night. Nope, it seems I get my daily Nirvana these days by walking out at 2, or sometimes even 3, in the morning, with only my driving license and my mp3 for company. While the need for the mp3 is self explanatory, the driving license is required to let any inquisitive cops know that I am not a jay walker and do possess a place I call home. It's not that difficult to blame the good police for being inquisitive about a 6 foot man wandering aimlessly at 3 in the morning, while dressed in his night suit.

However, leaving aside inquisitive cops, lusty prostitutes, shady gangsters, homeless pariahs, speeding cars driven by adrenaline fuelled youngsters and a regular dosage of pavement junkies (How badly do you want to walk at 2 in the morning now? However, I must confess I haven't met all these characters. Yet. But I am sure I will), I feel at my calmest when I am on these nocturnal sojourns of mine. In our daily hustle-bustle, we often forget how beautiful Mumbai actually is, how the sea can be calming and violent at once, how many people call this city home, and how lucky we actually are to be coming back to a roof over our heads, how this same place which is so tense during daytime, is equally placid during the night. Most importantly, I love these adventures of mine because it allows me to make sense of myself, gives me the time I need to think (It's a totally different experience from the thought process when you lie awake in bed), and makes me realize about my mistakes of the recent past (Okay, so it's only one mistake, but it's a massive one).

I don't actually know what prompted me to start walking at nights. Maybe it was the effect of books like 'Shantaram' and 'Maximum City', or just plain old restlessness, but I am glad that I do what I do, if only because I see another (a much more calmer, relaxed) side of my beautiful city, which is a paradox for the other side of myself which I am trying to understand. I am a much better, rather a much improved, person because I realize that what I was, was not out of malice, but out of fright.

Though I need many more walks, the habit looks to be nipped in the bud, by the fact that I told my parents about this, and as expected, they are now totally paranoid.

Oh well, lets see how it all pans out. Till next time,

That's all folks.

P.S. : "Everyone has their own weird habit, their own little source of joy, of escape, from this mad, mad world. Mine is that I like to go for walks in the night" - That was the original opening line.

Plenty to write about.

Mom came back to day morning, so holiday is officially over. Man, the past few days with my Dad were pure bliss. Didn't have to worry about money, or freedom, as both were provided in enormous amounts. It was awesome, I guess I gel better with my Dad, cause never have I had so much fun, and got so much work done (Yup, that's me, allow me to play, and I'll work. Force me to work, and I'll rebel).

Went to see a counsellor about studying in the UK yesterday. It was good, and also I got attached to this cute counsellor :-). Apparently I'm not as much of a useless bum that my teachers led me to believe, and there might be some august institutions left in the UK who actually want to take me in. Let's see, early days yet.

Went to a friend's place for an overnight yesterday. Permission and money were officially a breeze, I wish I had to refer to him only for all matters domestic also. Anyways, drank copious amounts of alcohol (1 quart of Smirnoff +1/2 quart of white rum + 1 miniature of Romanov) and inhaled copious amounts of Sheesha. Was genuinely sloshed after a long, long time. Note to self : A combination of different types of alcohol + Sheesha are all that is required to get you really, really HIGH.

On the downside though, had only a few hours of sleep, and got up with a MASSIVE hangover, could barely open my eyes, any noise above 20 db was enough to send me scurrying for cover and some creep had definitely stuffed excessive amounts of cotton down my throat. As if that wasn't enough, I had to go and pick up mommy dearest from the airport. So I leave house at 10:30 A.M., with barely enough sense to remain on my two feet. I arrive at the airport at 11, sharp on time with all my thoughts concentrated on greeting my mom in the next fifteen minutes and getting the hell home, and to my beloved bed. The shock that I got when the flightboard told me that the flight was landing at 12:30 P.M. (it also had the cheek to append 'provisionally' at the end) was beyond description. So there I was, stuck at a airport for the next one and a half hour, with only my mp3 player (filled choc-a-block with heavy metal music, which in my current state, effectively renders it useless) for company. I spent the next few hours, sifting, searching and listening to songs as slow and obsolete as "Chitthi naa koi sandesh" by Jagjit Singh and drinking magnificent amounts of pure black coffee (Six cups in two hours). The blessed flight finally landed at 1, and then at 2, I fell into a deep slumber, and that was my Nirvana for the day.

Self Control

..... a.k.a This Turned My World Upside Down.

WARNING : HORRIFIC PICTURES AT END OF POST. DUE TO THE EXTREME GRAPHIC NATURE OF THE PICTURES, DISCRETION IS ADVISED. THIS IS NOT A JOKE.

The following story, true in every sense, made me realize that there are some beings, who have achieved a higher level of control over themselves than I can ever hope to achieve. While it is impossible to emulate him, I hope that we can pay homage to his memory, by knowing, that some idea's are greater than us. And while a man may burn, ideas are immortal.

Thích Quảng Ðức (1897 - 1963) burnt himself to death, on 11th of June,1963. His act of self immolation, later repeated by many others,was in protest of the persecution of Buddhism by the South Vietnamese administration. The act occurred at the intersection of Phan Đình Phùng street and Lê Văn Duyệt street.

The image itself is more popularised by featuring on the cover of the self - titled album 'Rage Against The Machine'

Reports of eye witnesses state that, Thích Quảng Ðức got out of the car, assumed the traditional lotus position, and the two accompanying monks helped him pour gasoline over himself. He then lit the gasoline by striking a match, and burnt to death in a matter of minutes.

After his death, it transcended that his heart, though shrunken, was completely intact, a whole. It has since then been treated as a holy object, and currently lies in possession of the Bank Of Vietnam.

I end this post, quoting the words of eye witness David Halberstam, a New York Times reporter, who worte :

“

I was to see that sight again, but once was enough. Flames were coming from a human being; his body was slowly withering and shriveling up, his head blackening and charring. In the air was the smell of burning human flesh; human beings burn surprisingly quickly. Behind me I could hear the sobbing of the Vietnamese who were now gathering. I was too shocked to cry, too confused to take notes or ask questions, too bewildered to even think.... As he burned he never moved a muscle, never uttered a sound, his outward composure in sharp contrast to the wailing people around him.

”

PICTURES :

And God Said, "Let There Be Light"

Awesome day today. Finally decieded today morning, that come what may, am gonna fight away the blues. So called up all my friends, met a group for lunch, met one more of 'em for Sheesha. It's so nice to be surrounded by a group of people whom you can totally lose yourself with, it's even nicer when the abovementioned people are themselves surrounded by hookah, aaaahhhh heaven!!!

(At this point, the author is rendered speechless by the fact that spell check accepts 'hookah' as a word.)

Also had the BEST chicken roll at Hershey's Bakery today, ( 2 of them, Gluttony is not a sin, it's a misunderstood virtue) and then played football in the rain, yey!!!

Suddenly, Life's not so bad anymore, heck in fact, its wayyyyy awesome. Yup, I've been at the edge of the abyss of boredom, but I am back, filled with smoke....errr....I mean, enthusiasm.

Cheers.

Life Can Be Such A B#$ch

A sample of my Life :
I am writing this at 1:00 in the morning.
I am supposed to be studying for GRE, less said about that the better.
I haven't had my Sheesha for 4 weeks.
My friends, and my Sheesha partners, are puffing away on the other side of town.
They're letting me know how good the Sheesha is.
Unless it snows in hell, I won't be having Sheesha tommorow also.
I am missing my best friend cause we ain't talking.
No one has bothered to update their blogs, so am out of reading material.
I am out of stuff to download.
I am writing about how ridiculously bored I am, to cure myself of the same boredom. Talk 'bout a viscous circle.

It's Better To Burn Out, Than To Fade Away.

Kurt Cobain rules. I am like in this total Nirvana mood today. Just been blaring their songs into my eardrums all day long, and it feels good too. Well, anyways to satisfy the more voyeuristic amongst you all, my favourite vocalist are, Jim Morrison and Kurt Cobain. When I was a child, all I wanted to do was grow up, live my life in the fast lane and then commit suicide when I turn 28. Incidentally, that was the age at which Kurt Cobain blew his brains out, and thought I am temporarily over that fantasy of mine, his suicide letter remains fluttering on my soft board. It's a brilliant letter, as could be written only by Him. It speaks of how he wants to end it all, because he doesn't enjoy, doesn't believe in the music he creates, and when all his fans go wild around that music, he feels like he is cheating them.

The letter has remained a source of inspiration to me all my life, cause it's taught me that whenever I want something, to go for it all out, to not

To Boddah

Speaking from the tongue of an experienced simpleton who obviously would rather be an emasculated, infantile complain-ee. This note should be pretty easy to understand.

All the warnings from the punk rock 101 courses over the years, since my first introduction to the, shall we say, ethics involved with independence and the embarrassment of your community has proven to be very true. I haven't felt the excitement of listening to as well as creating music along with reading and writing for too many years now. I feel guilty beyond words about these things.

For example when we're back stage and the lights go out and the manic roar of the crowds begins., it doesn't affect me the way in which it did for Freddie Mercury, who seemed to love, relish in the the love and adoration from the crowd which is something I totally admire and envy. The fact is, I can't fool you, any one of you. It simply isn't fair to you or me. The worst crime I can think of would be to rip people off by faking it and pretending as if I'm having 100% fun. Sometimes I feel as if I should have a punch-in time clock before I walk out on stage. I've tried everything within my power to appreciate it (and I do,God, believe me I do, but it's not enough). I appreciate the fact that I and we have affected and entertained a lot of people. It must be one of those narcissists who only appreciate things when they're gone. I'm too sensitive. I need to be slightly numb in order to regain the enthusiasms I once had as a child.

On our last 3 tours, I've had a much better appreciation for all the people I've known personally, and as fans of our music, but I still can't get over the frustration, the guilt and empathy I have for everyone. There's good in all of us and I think I simply love people too much, so much that it makes me feel too fucking sad. The sad little, sensitive, unappreciative, Pisces, Jesus man. Why don't you just enjoy it? I don't know!

I have a goddess of a wife who sweats ambition and empathy and a daughter who reminds me too much of what i used to be, full of love and joy, kissing every person she meets because everyone is good and will do her no harm. And that terrifies me to the point to where I can barely function. I can't stand the thought of Frances becoming the miserable, self-destructive, death rocker that I've become.

I have it good, very good, and I'm grateful, but since the age of seven, I've become hateful towards all humans in general. Only because it seems so easy for people to get along that have empathy. Only because I love and feel sorry for people too much I guess.

Thank you all from the pit of my burning, nauseous stomach for your letters and concern during the past years. I'm too much of an erratic, moody baby! I don't have the passion anymore, and so remember, it's better to burn out than to fade away.

Peace, love, empathy.
Kurt Cobain

Frances and Courtney, I'll be at your alter.
Please keep going Courtney, for Frances.
For her life, which will be so much happier without me.

I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU!

Rest In Peace, Kurt Cobain.
Amen.

I Love My Blog

Well, finally got my blog reviewed. Man, it feels good to have such cool stuff written about you. I read the review frequently, it's a great pick me up. I am feeling unusually reticent today, so do excuse the short post. Anyways, I'll let my review do the talking for me.

" Brand new to the blogging scene and brilliantly written is this blog about the life and times of Alok from Maharashtra : India. I particularly like the post called Sanity Lost that is a cool list of things that has gotten our blogger "through" some stressful times. Fantastic and look forward to watching this blog grow into itself! Keep up the good work."

Hot And Cold

My brain is zonked. I swear it comes up with this totally eccentric thoughts inspired from eclectic sources. However, has anyone ever noticed how people from different countries will USUALLY (not always, so don't be crazy on me for this) use opposite temperature related words, to describe something good, with respect to the usual temperature of the country they live in. The effect, I think, is more pronounced when they actively dislike the general temperature of the country they reside in.

For example, people living in cold places (Alaska etc.) will usually use "HOT" to describe something they like. For example, if they like Ocean's Thirteen, or a ride at Disneyland, they'll go like "Man, that movie/ride was hot."

However, people living in hot places (Mumbai, so hot, that they call it a melting pot.) (Sudden afterthought : Please don't hate me for cracking that, my humor generally settles itself in a higher plane that that). Anyways, people in hot places tend to use adjectives like "COOL" or "CHILLED OUT" to describe the good things. For the above example, most Mumbai-ite's would say "Man, that was a cool ride" or "Man, Ocean's Thirteen is one chilled out movie."

The above should be enough proof for my readers to realize what wierd notions are entertained by my thought process, thus lending credibility to my theory, that I AM BORED.

America

"The first thing that hits you about Bombay is it's Heat. It's present everywhere and at all times. Nowhere in Bombay can you escape the humid heat" The above lines, taken from Gregory David Roberts' "Shantaram", aptly describe my feelings when I stepped out of Chatrapati Shivaji International Airport on Monday Morning.

Well, sorry to be updating so late. But my net's been conked since I've arrived. Anyways, my bad but moving on...Man, America was decent alright. I don't quite love the country but I am definitely not hating it though. Just a word of advice - Don't ever go to Los Angeles, It's bloody the boring-est place in America. See, basically the entire city's hot spot is this 1 mile long road called Sunset Strip and if you have cash to burn and no parents to stop you, then you can go and chill out there. Man, I stepped out of my hotel at 8 in the night to just take a walk and Jesus, I was like "What a ghost town".

On the bright side, I got to visit Universal Studios Theme Park and also Disneyland. That WAS amazing man. I love theme parks and rides et all. I guess I am still a child inside. But that was like the only bright spot in L.A.

After L.A. came the sinful Las Vegas. Oh man, this place rocks. Basically it's a city of Sin. You can get anything you want there - Booze, Cash and Sex, and cheap too. It was a wild time there. I like used to step out of my hotel at like 8 and come back at 4. Man, the city lives during the night. I love gambling too, I was quite the hotshot at Roulette. Too bad my parents didn't let me really get into it, I could have made a killing. I like Las Vegas, it's a city of extravagance and of wealth. Everything is so larger than life there. It's a city to lose yourself from reality.

Well, after that came the best part of the trip, The Cruise. Oh man, THIS WAS FRIGGIN AWESOME. I love cruising. I'll say one thing, Alaska is beautiful. It's a virgin land, untouched. And I love the open sea. I used to sit out on the deck till 5 in the morning. On board, there was this magican, Shawn Farquhar. I swear, he was the best magican I have ever seen. Like he did a couple of illusions, you know, the cutting the pretty assistant in half and all, but then he did this close up magic trick with cards. It was....simply put, It was the greatest magic trick I've seen in my life. Here's the video link to it. The trick will remain with me for the rest of my life. The song is "Shape of my heart" by Sting.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RkYNAwdFH9M

Also, at this one port I did America's largest Zip Line. See, a zip line is this extreme adventure sport, where they hang cables from the top of a mountain to the bottom, following the slope of the mountain, but above the trees and all. Then, they drive you to the top in a bus (the ride itself is 50 minutes) and strap you into a literal 'jhoola', a swing, with only a helmet and a seat belt between the two pieces of rope and then, they release you. Words are hopelessly inadequate to describe the experience, so am sending you a video link. See the entire video, as in after some time there's a first person point of view. Link :

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AhQchdegof4

Man, this is the best. This thing is 5600 feet long and drops me 1400 feet in 90 seconds flat. the speed is approximately 106 kmph. Its not even funny this one. And thanks to a massive spring, it comes to a stop in 0.5 seconds flat.

SONGS :
On my trip I was lucky enough to come across some good songs. The lyrics of all these songs are what sets them apart.
1. Shape Of My Heart by Sting

2. Luck, Be A Lady Tonight by Frank Sinatra (A wonderfully apt song to be heard in Las Vegas)

3. Son Of A Sailor by Jimmy Buffet

4. Country Road, Take Me Home by John Denver

5. Piano Man by Billy Joel

Humour :

Finally, on a jocular note. While I was in America, I came across these two totally howlarious snippets.

First, was when I was using a Public Restroom in the airport at Alaska. It was a wonderfully practical rhyme from which one could sense the author's anxiety. It goes like :

"Here I lie in deadly stupor,

Waiting for some toilet paper,

I wonder how much longer shall I linger,

Before I am forced to use my finger."

Secondly, there was this amazing inscription on a T-Shirt, which was made like an Master Card Advert. It goes like :

"3 bottles of beer : $21

4 shots of tequila : $26

2 shots of vodka : $12

6 Yeager bombs : $30

Taking home the girl who drank all this : Priceless."

On a brighter note, I met a group of people who made my cruise not only fun but unforgettable thanks to their quirkiness. I would like to thank them for their company and presence, they transformed the ride from a memorable one to an unforgettable one.

To Vas, Peter, Dominica, Rasiaka : Thanks for the best games of pool and Karaoke and large doses of fun.

To Cindy, Nancy,Marleen : Thank you for teaching me the importance of taking time off to smell the flowers, for giving me one of the biggest shocks of my life, and for silencing the cynic in me. I had some wonderful times with you all (P.S. : The cynic will be back).

Cheers for now people.

Well, I am off to the USA for my annual family ritual, THE FAMILY HOLIDAYS. So, not gonna be able to pen (can I use that for blogging) down my absurd thoughts for the next few days. Needless to say, I'll return from the trip with more absurder thoughts than ever. It'll be wonderful to visit a country with absolutely no moral police (thus providing fodder for my absurd thoughts). Life is so boring right now, I just pray that something exciting happens on the trip. It's so ridiculous, Monotony. That's my kryptonite. I am restless and energetic, I need to move, to spread some anarchy, I need to be constantly fiddling around with something, as my friends say, "I need to lose something, just so I can find it."

When Love Turns Sour....

Funny thing isn't it, love ? It makes one do anything, and I mean ANYTHING. I doubt there's a feeling like that in the world which can produce such extreme feelings, and hence extreme actions in people. And the funny part is, the absolutely funny part is that the person, doing whatever he/she does, under the influence of love, will think it's perfectly sane to do the most absurd things, for equally insane reasons. Weird or what ? And yes, it inspires people, it makes them rise above themselves, do things which were they never thought were possible by them.

But when love goes sour, that's when it can plummet one to the depths of despair. And the sh** that goes on when a good relationship turns sour, that can rarely be put in words. Sometimes, when something is so good, so real, then you don't feel like leaving it, that when the trouble starts. It's hard to leave a good thing, but gets harder if one doesn't know when to back off.

THAT FATEFUL DAY

It's so easy, when someone is so submissive to push them into a corner, and all the time you are thinking, "Right, I'll just push a wee bit more, just until I have got it to a point from where I can move it forward, without going through these horrible actions". You think, that the end will eventually justify the means. Of course, you have no intention to hurt or even marginally harm that special someone. You just wander along in your happy-go-lucky self, telling, no no, convincing yourself that all of this is for the greater good of the relationship, that one special relationship. But, unaware and blissful as you are, you don't realise that the person at the other end suffers, and has no idea, that there is no malice in your voice, no threat in your actions. And then, one day, when you push too fast and too hard, without realising what you are doing, your entire world comes crashing around you, cause that was the straw that broke the camel's back. Cause that's the day, when the other one does something so extreme, that everything seems mild in comparison. At first, its a surreal feeling, your ears hear it, but you just can't acknowledge the fact. It doesn't fit in, and it irritates you, it pushes you to do stupider things. But at the end of that fateful day, when you crawl into your bed, harrowed by the knowledge that you are lonely and cold, that's when it sinks in, that's when it hits you, and you spend an entire night just trying to cry it away. Trying to cry, in the weird hope, that you will just become numb, and in that numbness, will lie your solitude. But the harder you cry, the more you think, and the more you think, the more the truth stares you in the face, until you finally accept it.

THE NEXT DAY

You wake up the next morning, or rather, you leave your bedside. Sleep, in such times is sporadic, because the minute your eyes close, memories, all those painful memories, flood back to you, like never ending nightmares, and even if you open your eyes, for a few lingering moments, they refuse to fade away. However, you are up, and first thing, you sit and you try to convince yourself that yesterday night was a bad dream, that all of this is untrue, and to put that to test, you turn to the one, whose always been there for you whenever you confused. However, when you call, the harsh truth hits you, like a knockout punch, and then you start wishing, that maybe you should never have got up today. And then you finally accept it, what a stupid fool you have been, and you wonder how things ever got so messed up. But the worst part, is the answer, which is delivered to you by that small voice in the back of your head that you haven't been listening to all this while, the answer which says, quite plainly, that things got till here because of you, because of your stupidity. And though you try to reason with yourself, that why were the actions of that someone so drastic, you know deep down inside, that in this mad world, the small voice is the only one that is making sense. Then you begin to admonish yourself, you abuse and insult yourself, you concentrate on your mistakes and cry over them, because you finally know the root cause of why your dream world is tearing itself apart. And if you look real hard, you'll realise that it is your own hands wrecking this havoc, but you were just blind not to see it till now. The same way you were blind, not to love when you were loved, not to give when you were asked for it, and most of all, not to say thank you, until it was too late. But you still won't believe it, because of love, the love for that someone which pulls you back harder, the more you try to leave and hence, you seek for answers. And though it aches your tired heart, you heap more misery on yourself, and continue to pray, until the moment arrives. It'll be a teeny tiny moment, possibly if you aren't concentrating, and wallowing in self-pity, you may even miss it. Though it may take time to come, sure as hell, THE moment finally arrives, cause that is love answering back. It is the moment, when your prayers are answered, and there emerges a tiny ray of hope, just a little flicker of light, in your own dark hell. That is when your beloved gives you a chance, no no, not a chance but a hope, that do this and maybe things will be okay, or maybe they will be not, but you just know that there is still this minuscule chance. And you take it, sure it may not be a fair deal, sure it may be a blind alley, but you cling on to it, cause that is hope. And it is light in a deep, dark and lonely world. And you smile, and hang up, cause now your life has purpose, now you realise your follies, and accept them, and that is the first step to forgiveness and possibly salvation.

So you start, you start to keep the promise you made, and at times you feel so lonely and hard done, that it's untrue, but you keep at it, cause you realise that it's harder for the person at the other end, and that a day of keeping the promise, is one more day on the path to recovery. In your moments of solitude, you begin to realise your mistakes, more clearly than ever before, and you repent for them. You realise, how lucky you are, not to be shunned aside, not to be dumped, but to be given an opportunity to repent, and to prove that you too, can be trusted. You realise, how difficult it must be for the person at the other end, how wonderful that person is, and how you'll two share a common vision for a better, stronger future. And though, you know, that this may be a wild goose chase, that nothing may ever change, and that life may again kick you in the ba**s, you stick at it, because you trust that person, whose given you hope, never to let you down, and that trust and the love, and the memories of bygone days keep you trudging along your chosen path.

At times, though you sit and wonder, that why should I not just move on, and why shouldn't I not look back ? So, you set out, only to realise, that no one quiet takes care of you, and no one smiles at you, and understands you, in that same special way and so you return, like a moth to a flame, even though you know that it may eventually be the end of you, you know that you are willing to take your chances with that.

You are also scared, scared that what if even after all this, the issue of the future comes up,but then you smile at your stupidity, cause after all this, if the issue of the future comes up, you know that with your understanding and compromise, you will get through anything. And you promise yourself, that you will never hold back that person at whatever cost and never to make the same mistakes again.

And you pray, every morning, evening and night, that just maybe, just maybe, sometime in the future, when the storm of present has settled down (cause you know, that come what may, it will settle down), that it'll be just you and that person, together, in their own private little world, sitting, and smiling at the chaotic world pass by, enjoying a stronger bond, because you know, if this comes through, then your bond will be stronger and fresher than ever before.

Never give up, never ever think that something is unworkable and back off. Just put your entire faith and work hard, and always believe.

Bloggers Block ???

This is the definition of " FRUSTRATION ". I'm sitting here, in front of my computer screen, staring at this blank white space on which I'm supposed to pour out my heart and nothing is coming. It's ridiculous that for the past so many days I have nothing to write about. The point of frustration was so bad that I was considering writing about the U.P. elections, before sense poured into me and I realised I'll be shunned.

I've swear I've tried. I started off with a blog on IF by Rudyard Kipling, just my favourite poem of all time. Then moved on to how ludicrous it is that now we're again saying Team India is back in form now that they have beaten Bangladesh. Then I moved on to the ridiculous state of politics in India, whereby the CPI berates the President for suggesting that India should have a stable 2 party system seen in advanced countries, afterwards tried writing on The Moral Police scenario in our country but realised that desperate I maybe, but they still don't even deserve a rant on my blog.

Anyways, finally accepting my defeat I now sign off, comforted by the knowledge that tomorrow I leave for a day to Shirdi and hopefully my brain will churn out a bit more.

Since time immemorial, people have been trying to divide people in convenient categories, like we are a couple of items at Walmart. People have been divided into lines of religion (always a crowd favourite that one), colour (a close second), mugging power (thus laying the foundation for examinations) amongst others. Apart from the obvious detrimental effects (exams), other more harmful ones have followed, Racism etc.

A convenient solution is to group them how I group them. According to me there's only 2 types of people in the world : Those who take a bucket bath and those who take a shower. See, this list is exhaustive and covers everyone in the world. Now this list is not only a off the shelf invention but a in depth analysis of the people of earth (thus you know what I do during preparatory leave). Each group has their own characteristics, and is totally at peace with the other (hence, no more fights. Noble Peace Prize, here I come). It should be noted that the shower is essentially a reference to people who take their bath's under running water (waterfalls, garden hoses etc.), while the bucket is a reference to static water (bathtubs, ponds, rivers etc.)

The Bucket Group is the slower, lethargic, relaxed group. They have unlimited patience (they can wait hours for the bucket or the tub to fill) and usually have an aptitude for planning ahead (so they know that they have to leave the bucket to fill at x hours so as to have a bath at x+y hours). They usually have time to smell the flowers and nothing short of a nuclear fallout will hurry them up. However, once started slower, they usually speed up (in the bucket bath, for 15-20 mins, there's no water anywhere and then swoosh...). However I attribute this to time constraints rather than a burst of energy. Simply put, unless faced with a time limit, a bucket bather will continue at his own slow pace rather than speed up (thus making them prime examples of Newton's Law Of Inertia). Also, these people do not like repeating/re-doing anything. They are prim, proper and meticulous.

The Shower Group are nature's energy bundles. They want to have everything instantaneously (they wont wait for 30 seconds to start having a bath) and are usually impulsive (and they seldom regret their decisions). They have a devil may care attitude and prefer to rush through life (their favourite quote is usually on the lines of that unforgettable line from Kurt Cobain - "It's better to burn out than to fade away"). They prefer to do everything at a fast but constant rate and NOTHING is gonna make them change that. They don't bother planning ahead but rush headlong into life, doing everything at their own speed (thus they fully demonstrate Newton's Second Law, Force = Mass X Acceleration). They don't have a problem with doing anything a number of times. They usually have periods of high energy characterized by periods of lethargy. They are energetic, untidy and creative.

The last and most important difference is that a bucket bather may take a shower, but it will never be vice versa.

The above data is true to the best of my knowledge and has been verified in practical analysis (my parents and brother). This may also explain the eternal strife and lack of similarities between my family and me, considering that I am the ONLY one in my family who falls under the shower category.

Do leave comments on what you are and how much you agree. Cheers!!!

P.S. : Q - Why wasn't Jesus Christ Born In America???
A - Because in entire America they couldn't find 3 wise men and a virgin!!!!

(I can just imagine raj cracking up at this).

Thats The "Spirit"

Well, exams are over and I don't know how to feel. I mean like vodka, lectures (among other things) before them, exams are starting to wash over me, their presence meaningless, their start inevitable and their end, just a matter of time.

VJTI is still stuck in 1857 (year in which it was founded for all those who didn't know). Given below is an article which I had submitted for the college magazine. What came out eventually amounted to an intellectual insult. From that day on, I gave up my post as Nirmaan editor. I became more of a figurehead, a mannequin, ever present but mentally absent. Being editors we all had to submit insipid, boring articles inspired by ridiculous topics. Not only that, we had to heap misery on the unsuspecting student body by asking them to write on the same boring trite. Of course, should any student dare to write anything that amounts to creativity, we as editors were supposed to happily snip and trim away till what was left resembled a doughnut - hollow to the core. Compare this article of mine to the one in Nirmaan and raise a toast to the death of creativity in VJTI. Needless to say, the editors were just robots, fed by thinly veiled threats from varied sources (I know I am vauge but I'm sure you will know just where in general I am pointing to) about how we have to keep the magazine in tune with the "spirit" of VJTI. Needless to say the "spirit" of VJTI will give Egypt's oldest mummy a run for it's money. If we as editors, "failed" at our jobs, then these demi-gods snipped and cut away for us, all with a look of patient suffering registered on their faces, as if we were the worst editors that had ever taken up the hallowed post. Heaven is proof that I have tried to fail and fail again, till such an extent that the sight of me working away on the magazine was enough to give my co-editors a cold sweat. Our debates were and are boring, topics like family planning, contraception, and even issues relating to morality and is society the right one to decide were banned. The IIT's had debates ranging from incest to global warming, all televised on youth channels to spread awareness for a better India. For us to move forward and compete with the best educational institutions in India, this "spirit" should be chucked into the nearest possible grave and maybe then can produce a magazine and not the world's foremost cure for insomnia.

Sanity Lost

Now that exams are preparing to leave me from thier suffocating grip, it makes sense for me to create a list of all the things, people, places that helped me get through them :

1. MUSIC
It's been there through a lot of good times in my life and more pertinently through a lot of dark times.

2. MOVIES
Crank, Snatch, The Pursuit Of Happyness, Van Wilder, Metal : A Headbanger's Journey, American History X and many more. Delightful movies, all of them and my escape routes so as to leave my stuffy environment ever so subtly.

3. MY BOOKS
The Afghan, The Reluctant Fundamentalist, Five Point Someone, Harry Potter, Agatha Christie, William and so many more have whisked me away to a place that can only be found in one's imagination.

4. MY PLAYSTATION 2
The joys of virtual reality are to many to be enumerated. Suffice to say that this is my dream machine and kept me up in the nights whenever the going got drowsy. If you don't wake up wide and your adrenalin doesn't start flowing when you just felled a 50 foot monster, then please check yourself into the nearest hospital.

5 FOOTBALL
This is the number 1 reason why I still am. Everyone knows when they are most comfortable and at peace, for me, its with a football at my feet...because thats when life feels exactly right.

6. SHEESHA
My respite. The only time when I can stop and smell the flowers and take stock of the rollercoaster that is my life.

7. ME, MYSELF
No explaination required I hope.

So far so good with the exams then, thier vice like grip over me is going to be stopped for a semester so as to allow me to indulge in my other vices.

A HIGH 5 ????

Exams are on and am really pissed, and it's got everything to do with that number 5. Now, I was a reasonably bright spark in my 10th and 12th. In engineering though since my first sem, I was branded as a bloody 5 point idiot. And it pisses me off to no end. Its not like I dont like being a five point someone or that I dont deserve it. Naaah..... I choose to be it and hence am happy. It's just the reaction of people when they know that you a 5 pointer. Its that look in their eyes which says that "Go on, mate. How the f*&k did you get in this college??".And it's all the more ridiculous when you know that you have possibly done more in your life than that idiotic greasy haired obnoxious little git starin at you. I mean, I play footy everyday, am way ahead of the VJTI average, or even the national average in terms of spoken english, I debate, I MUN, I possess a sense of humour, am reasonably popular, definately dont stay cooped up at home, am street smart, and my choice of music doesn't revolve around Rakhi Sawant and Himesh Reshammiya, watch intelligent films . Doesn't that count for something.....anything?? My point being, is bieng a five point someone really that bad??? To finish off, a few lines from one of my favourite songs that sums me up on this :

" Nobody's Perfect,And I Stand Accused,
For Lack Of A Better Word, And That's My Best Excuse "