wtf?!?

The resurrection

2008-08-22T09:29:00.002+05:30

‘Look, up in the sky!!!’

‘It’s a bird!!!’

‘It’s a flying polka dotted purple elephant with pinstriped wings wearing a cashmere fur coat and singing ‘it’s raining men…hallelujah!’’

‘It’s…’

CUT!!!

‘Fuck!!! What the fuck is going on?!? I fucking paid you guys for a fucking brilliant entry. I even settled for the fucking porn writers’ guild because they did dialogues fucking cheap, just so I could get a fucking brilliant entry. So what’s the fucking deal, Shpealberg?!?’

‘We just received a copy of your bank statement you shmuck!’

*Guy holds up a poorly fabricated card saying ‘and once again the day is ~~saved~~ fucked, all thanks to g-man’s bank account*

Damn! That movie idea didn’t work out pretty well. But anyhow, I’m back. Yes, woohoo!!! G-man is back (applaud at this point…please…pretty please?) Lotsa stuff has been happening over here. Our exams which were to end on Aug 5, finally ended yesterday. (No comments here. Well actually, fuck that! Now our chances of getting out of college early have been completely fucked by the university. So I’m thinking of training a million monkeys to pee on the bewigged head of the fucking controller of examinations). Well, I must confess, it was partly owing to Kerala’s er…national pastime, which is called a hartal, or, in layman’s terms, a fucking strike for absolutely no fucking reason. We had an exam postponed because the opposition party declared a hartal against the ruling communist party, because apparently, one paragraph of a fucking 7th grade social science text book advocates communism. Fucking bullshit if you ask me! See this for details. Now if it had said ‘thou shalt be a communist’, I would’ve been pretty miffed too, if I was part of the opposition party. But this makes me go ‘fucking pricks!!!’

In other news, I’m glad to inform you, my loyal fan(s) that I have been placed in a company (I am not mentioning which as I would not like to jeopardize my future job :|) It’s a funny story actually…the three of us (Gov, Hektor and I) were in the first batch of interviewees. We only found out when we were waiting for the test results. And that too, after our names had been called out. By then, it was too late to go and change into the very formal clothes (and tie, in my case) we had brought for this very eventuality, so we ended up attending the interview wearing beach shirts :| Luckily, the interviewer didn’t comment on my attire. He didn’t say anything much either (tall, dark, silent, intimidating guy…I was, like, totally wtf?!?) At the end of it, he actually thanked me for taking time to attend the interview. I thanked him for taking time to conduct the interview that enabled me to take time to attend it :| it was all one big mushy farewell. At the end of it, I was thinking ‘Wow, maybe he thanked me because of my amazingly casual style of dressing…being unprepared to change the way I was just for an interview. This is awesome!’ As it turns out though, he thanked everyone whom he interviewed :| drat!!!

Ok, enough of this boring stuff. I’m officially back!!! And I’d like to thank ~~all of~~my loyal ~~fan(s)~~ ~~friends~~ ~~friend~~ ~~brain~~ spleen who supported me through this torturous ordeal, and who have to tolerate more of my posts now. But first, I’ve got a million blogs to read :D Cya!

P.S. HA ha!

hiatus

2008-07-21T14:57:00.001+05:30

hey sorry everyone...i've been in a shit mood over the last few weeks n now exams have started. will check your blogs as soon as they get over, which will be on aug 5. tc all, rock on!!!

my point of view

2008-07-03T20:43:00.001+05:30

For a very long time, I’ve wanted to put down the reasons why I don’t believe in god. The end result was pretty puerile the last time I tried. This time, I’ll try to put them down as best I can.

My perception of god was that he/she was an omnipotent and omniscient being, responsible for the creation of everything that exists, a higher power if you will. Yes, I was monotheistic despite being a Hindu, for I had always found the concept of multiple gods quite impossible to comprehend. I think the arguments against the presence of a demiurge would be on the same note, but I have never believed in one. The importance is on cause, i.e. god caused existence and was solely responsible for everything in it. God is one who is invested with goodness, morality, justice, benevolence, knowledge, objectiveness and, of course, power. All the definitions I have come across cover all or most of these qualities, and are, I think, fundamentally flawed.

By resorting to causality, we neglect the one basic question. We say god created everything, but conveniently do not ask for the one cause, the cause of god. (Or, if you would like to go with the explanation that the devil created everything when god wasn’t looking, you can, its all the bloody same except for the fact that now you have to believe in both a god and a red dude with horns and a pointy tail.) Every question about existence inexorably leads to the first cause, which we take for granted. Here I’d like to say that I believe that the macrocosm exists because of itself (insert big bang theory here). My logic isn’t any different now is it? In both cases, something is said to be the cause of its own existence, and it is. Sure, you could counter that by saying that if certain fundamental quantities and objects were just a little bit different, nothing would exist. You would be right on that account, and you would also be ignoring the probability of these fundamental quantities being, well, not different from what they are now. We can assign a value to that probability if we knew exactly how many variables we were talking about, but since we don’t, let’s just stop at the place where we become aware of such a probability. Maybe if we thought hard enough, we would arrive at the conclusion that everything exists here, just as it did not exist (because of the difference in the aforesaid fundamental quantities) in a whole bloody lot of other random occurrences like the one which started this, let us call it, universe. Or, maybe, there are other planes of existence where things are different, and that we haven’t quite broken through to, yet. I’d like to suggest that you read Dr. Corey G Washington’s spark plug analogy – it’s not very comprehensive, but it explains quite a bit.

The above argument brooks yet another one, that of complexity which, in my opinion, is pretty easy to counter. It’s fairly easy to look at the complexities of occurrences and opine that there is some greater power at work. But hey, the laws of physics are mighty complex, and explain what goes on. The anomalies in them merely assert the fact that we haven’t yet begun to unravel what goes on around us, and also serve to make the laws more comprehensive by adding on to them. Oh, and if you’re looking for complex, try researching Brownian motion, that’ll tell you how something that seems so very simple can actually be bloody complex!

But then again, if there was no god, then there wouldn’t be any objective values and only relativity to define the concepts of good and evil. Well, what’s wrong with that? I completely agree! There are no objective values because everything is tainted by thought processes and emotions. It all comes down to evolution and not some higher power who etches morals in stone. I mean sure, you could counter that statement with something like ‘what about the people who go around raping minors and torturing innocent people?’ Well, clearly, the person in question does not think it wrong, so the absolute values notion lies shattered, does it not? Even if the person knows it’s wrong and cannot help it, it doesn’t prove the existence of objective moral values. The act is condemned and deemed shocking because it appeals to human emotions and is also against any kind of social norm, not any sort of objective bullshit that drives us all to act nice.

Finally we come to the human factor. I think every human being has a void inside which he/she tries to fill up with whatever suits him/her. It is always a good feeling to know that there’s someone watching out for you and who’ll correct you if you’re wrong, every step of the way; someone you can count on, every minute of every day, someone you can go to, and more importantly, someone to aspire towards. No I’m not saying we all want to be like ‘god’, I’m just saying that we have this notion of a perfect person in our head, which we aspire to attain unsuccessfully. I believe it’s this notion that took the shape of a higher power, this and the fact that we are obsessed with creating stuff.

Do you think that if there really was a divine being, omnipotent, omniscient and benevolent, causing the existence of everything as we know it, invested with objective moral values, and who brings about justice, then things would be the way they are today? Do you not think that if such a being were to create something, it would be perfect and not riddled with the flaws that make up our world? Would such a being even need to intervene to keep things in balance? And, pray tell, how would a being that was both all-merciful and who also brought about justice treat someone who is damnably guilty? By forgiving them? Or by letting them burn in the fires of hell till kingdom come?

On thinking about it, I thought it would be prudent to be an agnostic, because I don’t think anyone will ever have any definitive proof. Well I don’t think it can be proved that god does not exist, because other than cognition, there is no other way to go about it, and someone or the other will always argue against this proof. So, throwing prudence to the winds, I became an atheist, because that is what my logic told me, and that is what it still tells me now.

:|

2008-06-28T19:10:00.003+05:30

it seems i have gotten down with a serious case of "wannabe-writer's block". so, in the absence of any tags, i have decided to put up something else =D a test result!!! well, fortunately, there are tests on sites that are not your average tickle clingy feel-good tests, and actually give you an honest answer. i enjoyed taking this one, and enjoyed the results even more. the algorithm behind the result evaluation got it spot on for once! so here goes :D

What philosophy do you follow? (v1.03)
created with QuizFarm.com

You scored as Apathy

Your life is marked by quite a bit of apathy: You don’t seem to care much about the direction of your own life, much less society in general.

I would find a quote or two to better describe the virtues and thoughts behind apathy, but ironically those who would espouse the concept of apathy are too apathetic to write about it.

“Eh, who cares?”

--Myself, just now...

More info at Arocoun's Wikipedia User Page...

Apathy

100%

Strong Egoism

100%

Justice (Fairness)

85%

Nihilism

80%

Existentialism

25%

Kantianism

20%

Hedonism

Divine Command

Utilitarianism

ta dah!

2008-06-22T18:25:00.006+05:30

mum was too tired to clean up my room on saturday, so that has been indefinitely postponed i guess. maybe in the next five year plan. hopefully before i have to get out of this place :) i think i want to see my room clean at least once. that hasn't happened ever since i moved into it. funny how a room that seemed so big initially can get so full of stuff and yet not contain all the stuff that it could contain.there's a coupla more tags i received in the meantime, which i intend to do now...

poo tagged me with the secrets tag. i'm supposed to put up ten of my super secrets on here. i have plenty to spare, so this won't be an issue. here they are...

1. i do nothing about my hair. i shampoo it when i remember that i’ve got a bottle of shampoo in my bathroom and i’m not feeling too lazy. i do not comb my hair before going out either – i just get out of the shower, get dressed, and go wherever it is i want to go

2. i used to believe in true love. i don’t any more
3. i find it near impossible to understand most kinds of verse

4. when working together with others, i have this tendency to check everything they do, and most of the time, they don’t even realize it. i find it impossible to trust anyone even for the simplest of things

5. i am an egoist, out and out

6. i tend to get into these suicidal phases when i’m depressed. i’ve even tried to kill myself once. it didn’t work, but that’s a different story. don’t ask me about this one, i won’t tell you

7. gay people have made moves on me fifteen times, till date
8. i was a really sensitive person, but now i’ve become numb to most of the stuff that happens to me

9. i have been approached by a pimp who asked me if i’d like to try out one of his er…clients. my response? i am still a virgin – i guess that answers your question!

10. i have bipolar disorder

humbl devil tagged me with the i tag. its arbit stuff about myself. here that one goes...

i am: (prefix a/an as you see fit) atheist, egoist, introvert, humorist, nihilist, misanthrope

i think: all the time. loads more than you think i do, if you know me

i know: not so much, but i get by

i want: to do something that puts my life on the edge; the proverbial running the gauntlet, if you will

i have: intelligence, reason and the ability to stay quiet

i wish: i was free in the true sense of the word

i hate: backstabbers, people who don’t use deodorant or breath-mint, habitual liars

i miss: that feeling of completeness

i fear: hah!

i feel: numbness

i hear: me talking to myself in my head

i smell: breakfast

i crave: adrenaline rushes

i search: for a point

i wonder: why?

i regret: trusting some people

i love: coffee, chocolate, ice cream, a few shots of vodka and a couple of davidoffs, just hanging out with certain people

i ache: no more

i am not: someone who doesn’t say what he feels; nice; pleasant; conversation oriented

i dance: worse than ellen de generes

i sing: in my bathroom, metal mostly

i cry: but i don’t

i dont always: do what i’m told by my superiors

i fight: with myself a lot, and also with anyone who rubs me the wrong way

i write: straight from the head

i win: people over when i want to – its always been that way

i lose: when i have irrational hope

i never: hurt anyone unless they hurt me

i always: try to be by myself and not bother anyone

i confuse: most of the people I know

i listen: if something interesting is being said

i can usually be found: online, in front of the tv, or in my room

i need: chaos

i am happy about: the fact that i am here :)

i imagine: what my life will be like in a few years, just for the heck of it

i tag: *insert name here*

me[dot]jpg

2008-06-20T21:36:00.007+05:30

foreword: hi N -man!!! my partner in crime has finally decided to start blogging!

ok, this is not a picture of me. well not of the actual me. its a collage representation of myself. actually, its a tag (sriram tagged me with this one), but it so didn't feel like one! i suck at photoshop at the best of times, but i think i managed to come up with something half-decent. so here goes. this is me, as abstract as you can get, in a jpg :) go clockwise from bottom left!

(the picture)

the explanation:

1. the background shows a lone wolf silhouetted against the moon. a lone wolf is the animal i identify with, for obvious reasons...
2. the completely wack shot of the bass guitar is there for my love of music (read as metal)
3. the picture right above and to the left of the guitar is a bar. which is not there to showcase my inebriatedness, its just a place i like to hang out in, simply because people are too busy getting sloshed to notice you. the fact that you can get sloshed kinda adds importance to this. at least to me it does.
4. at the centre, right to the left of the wolf, is a still from unreal tournament 2004. i love fragging and i love ut04 in particular. i like computer games in general :) except hitman, of course
5. i love blowing smoke rings. they look damn good, and they get you damn high because you hold the smoke in your lungs for longer!
6. i like vodka. why? go figure! i just do!!! though i can't always have smirnoff owing to the fact that its fucking costly where i live...how costly? 120 bucks for a peg!
7. i don't think i could go on for very long without a book in my hand (fiction of course). ergo the bookshelf
8. when i'm depressed, blue, or just need some time to think, i just sit somewhere by myself and take a couple of drags. to me, that's one of the best feelings in the world.
9. i am a die-hard manchester united fan. i've been one for thirteen years now. red to the core!!!
10. that's a dragon...yup! i am amazed, interested, mesmerised, and a whole lot of other similar adjectives by fantasy. which is probably why i have read every single fantasy book in the local library.
11. that last one is a stand-up comic stage. i'm a funny guy, and i love making my friends laugh. if you're not my friend, and i'm funny, its a defence mechanism, so bugger off why don't ya?

now i get to tag people. so i tag N (your first tag man!!!), cain (there ya go dude ;)), bob (surprise surprise!) and hera (i know you're totally going to whoop ass on this one)

i spy!!!

2008-06-18T21:37:00.006+05:30

Ok, wow…for the first time in years, ma and I cleaned up my room. Those of you who have been there will know the extent of my messiness. This post is for those of you who haven’t been to my room. Of course, I wrote the above sentences with the impression that there might be people reading who may/may not know me and who may/may not give a fuck. Or I’d just be talking to myself, which is quite like me, so I guess that doesn’t change things in the least! So, armed with my trusty (and favourite) chequered blue hanky, and looking like a complete arse (read as terrorist), I set out to assist ma in clearing my room. For those of you (imaginary or otherwise) who do not know me, my room is a total mess. If an earthquake hit, it’d only look better. It must have something to do with the fact that the more intelligent the person, the more of a mess they make :) (Make a pj out of this and I kick your butt from wherever you are to Papua New Guinea! If you live in Papua New Guinea…yay! Thanks for dropping by. I never thought someone from Papua New Guinea would read my blog. Where is Papua New Guinea anyways? I’m obsessed with the country! All right, getting back to the topic at hand…)

(Uh-sama byn G-man)

I think I have already briefed you about the messiness of my room. Ma took a quick survey and decided to take my suggestion, which was ‘lets just clean the stuff on the floor now’, which essentially consisted of approximately a metric tonne of stuff dating back to two million years before the antediluvian era. Here is what we found on my floor…in chronological order, of course. O yea, it’s only fair to remind you, I’m currently waiting for the final year of my four year graduate course to start (just one set of exams to get through). What does this have to do with anything? Just read (do I here an echo?)

1. A pile of my laundry (yea, I just pile them up in a corner of my room)

2. A pair of old socks…old as in really, really old!

3. Three umbrellas. Now I know why there’s an umbrella shortage at home. Unfortunately, my ma didn’t see the lighter side of it. I feel extremely lucky to have escaped unscathed after being face to face with ma holding a couple of pretty big (and hard) umbrellae in her hands. Btw, why the fuck isn’t the plural of umbrella ‘umbrellae’?

4. Underneath all of that, my cricket bat!!! I’ve been searching for it for ages now. I can finally play again :D

5. A couple of my old school bags. One even had the matchbox I took for our chemistry practicals. That prompted awkward questions, understandably, it being my ma. My snoopy servant (who was there to help us) rummaged through the bag, found the matchbox, specifically went to my ma (who was standing in the opposite corner and getting some fresh air by the window) and told her about the matchbox. Thank goodness they didn’t go through the bag I currently use. If they’d opened up the side compartment, the room would’ve been flooded with the smell of tobacco :|

6. There were three separate piles of stuff in my room. One wasn’t exactly a pile; it was the bag I took during my trip to Mumbai. It still had a couple of the jeans I had taken there. Ma just had to quip “do you plan on keeping them in that bag till your next trip to Mumbai”. I couldn’t come up with a good retort, so I just stuck my tongue out at her and grinned goofily. Moms just have to have the last word, don’t they?

7. And then we came to the pile. Chest high, it consisted of every book known to an ISC student (albeit covered in a nice thick layer of dust, cobwebs, and clumps of lizard poop). Rummaged through that for a while…found a coupla items that I wanted to save. Kinda had to throw the rest out because ma was glaring holes right through me when I looked at some of the stuff longingly. Fortunately for me, she went outside the room to get some more fresh air, and I snuck a few books and papers onto my shelf when she was gone *evil grin!*

8. As it turned out, the pile was piled up on top of a carton filled with my ninth and tenth standard books. That has given me the inspiration I needed to complete ‘stuff, part 3’ (see 1 and 2 here).

9. My dust allergy…new and improved

Obviously, the above process took an hour. Three people working for an hour can do quite a bit of work. Hell, my floor is clean! Now there’s just my chair, my table, my shelf, my draw, the compartment under my draw, my dresser and my loft left to clean up. We have planned on commencing with stage 2 of operation nut-job, on Saturday.

eight!

2008-06-14T09:42:00.003+05:30

I got tagged (1 and 2) by Rahul and Hari There are a lot of tags out there :) here goes this one. It’s about 8 things…

8 things I am passionate about

1. Food! Especially if it has lots of chicken in it :) even though I look like a complete anorexic, I eat a heck of a lot more than my size suggests. I’m bloody irritated that I can’t gain weight!

2. Music. I listen to all kinds. Mainly metal though. Metallica is fucking amazing!

3. Reading. Yea, I read a lot, mainly blogs and fiction!

4. Driving. I don’t know how to drive a car, and even if I did, I’d think driving a motorbike was awesome! I dunno, it’s everything about it that’s somehow got me hooked; which is why I want to buy a really good motorbike after I start working :)

5. My time, when I get to be with myself. I need at least an hour of this every day or I end up fucking snappy.

6. Manchester United. Glory, glory United! For ever!!!!!

7. The net. I can’t live without it. I dread every day that goes by without me checking my mail at least seven times.

8. Legend. I’m quite entranced by mythology and the epics. I wish I could write something comparable to one of them!

8 things I wanna do before I die

1. Earn wads of cash doing a job I like.

2. Go skydiving and bungee-jumping.

3. Visit Egypt and Scotland.

4. Watch a Manchester United soccer game at The Theatre of Dreams.

5. Fall in love with someone and spend the rest of my life with her.

6. Buy a Monster >:)

7. Write a book. A good one!

8. Learn to shoot guns and be awesome at it!

8 things I say often

1. wtf?!?

2. Fuck!

3. Whatever!

4. Go fuck yourself!

5. What plans?

6. Sup?

7. Shit!

8. No issues

8 books I read recently

1. The wind-up bird chronicle – Haruki Murakami (not done with it yet, not too bad though)

2. Kafka on the shore – Haruki Murakami (absolutely loved this one)

3. Dawn of empire – Sam Barone (page turning stuff)

4. Dragons of the dwarven depths – Weis and Hickman (do I even need to say anything?)

5. I moved your cheese – Darrel Bristow-Bovey (rofl! I like this as much as I hated ‘who moved my cheese’)

6. Harry Potter and the deathly hallows – J K Rowling (my favourite in the potter series)

7. From the corner of his eye – Dean Koontz (wasn’t great, but I read it anyways)

8. For the death of me – Quintin Jardine (was pretty ok!)

8 songs I could listen to over and over again

1. Nothing else matters – Metallica

2. My immortal – Evanescence

3. Puritania – Dimmu Borgir

4. Seasons in the abyss – Slayer

5. Bored to tears – Black label society

6. Sweet child o mine – Guns ‘n’ Roses

7. Heart shaped box – Nirvana

8. Hero – Chad Kroeger

8 people I think should do this tag

Any 8 people who read this and pause for a second! Thanks for the tag man, liked doing it :)

the trip

2008-06-12T18:14:00.012+05:30

ok, not boring evs wit a long and torturous exposition of my trip to mumbai. will just mention the salient points. i have to concur with deepti on this post of hers though. murphy does rule the universe. at least he did, during most part of the mumbai trip.

1. our flight from trivandrum to mumbai was scheduled to depart from the airport at the inhuman hour of 3.45. because all our lucky stars were out on that particular day, the flight departed at the still inhuman hour of 7.45. woke up early, bathed and got ready for bloody nothing!

2. mumbai airport is freaking huge! dad used to work there, 18 years ago. needless to say, there have been slight changes since then. we took a route he was familiar with, only to find out that it was the bloody wrong one. after we walked for the good part of half an hour, we finally found our way out of the airport. and oh joy! the exit we took was nowhere near a taxi stand. so i had to lug my inhumanly heavy bag and walk around until we found one...

3. it was bloody fucking hot there! that night it started raining though, so i thought things would get slightly better over there. i had trivandrum in mind when it actually started raining. mumbai is nothing like trivandrum, even when it comes to rains.

4. that very night, my dad and my uncle were drinking their way to oblivion. i couldn't take part in the revelry as my uncle was my mom's brother. dad didn't want news of my inebriatedness reaching anywhere within 26.9 parsecs of my mom. so i had to go awol for a little while to get my fix. then we ordered pizza :)

5. mumbai rains = x_X
mumbai traffic = x_X
mumbai (rains + traffic) = X_X

6. the taxi guys are honest for the most part. at least the ones we encountered were.

7. the next two days were (apart from the times i went awol) spent at the wedding we were there to attend. anyone who has been to a tamil brahmin wedding will know that they are long and elaborate affairs that involve one religious ceremony after another. there's this thingy where the guy is lifted by his uncle (who is helped generously by the guy's cousins because it ain't that easy to lift up a person onto one's shoulders) in order to mock-prevent the girl from garlanding him. then the girl's uncle lifts her up so that the garlanding can take place. i have never really understood the point of this ritual but its fun anyhow.

8. i am convinced that i want a simple wedding. no elaborate religious ceremonies, no fucking reason to go awol. just sign, get a marriage licence, and throw a huge party later (unlimited booze).

9. we then went back to my uncle's place and it was still raining bloody murder.

10. i got to spend some quality time with my cousin while dad and unc were, well, you know. she's the sweetest person in the world, and i'd've happily braved the mumbai rains and traffic just to meet her :) and no, i'm not just putting this up to make her feel good. she doesn't get time to read blogs.

11. we left my uncle's place on saturday night. the flight was scheduled to be early in the morning. my dad wanted to get to the airport early as he didn't want us to get stuck in the rain. we got out of my uncle's house by around 11.15 pm for our 5.35 am flight.

12. we spent all fucking night at the airport. i couldn't sleep because firstly, i don't sleep with people watching me, and secondly, my dad was snoring like one of them power drills, and that made people stare even more.

13. our 5.35 flight left at around 7.35. a twitchy, bloody-eyed and fucking irritated g-man walked onto the flight.

14. an even more twitchy, bloody-eyed and even more fucking irritated g-man got down at trivandrum airport at 10 am. the flight had a stopover at cochin, and i knew i wouldn't be getting any sleep all day (i can't sleep during daytime unless i'm really sick)

and there we go. btw, if anyone sees murphy anywhere around, just tell me. i've got a tennis racket ready to sodomize him.

back!

2008-06-10T19:18:00.002+05:30

alritey then, i got back on sunday. been sleeping for most of two days because i did not get any sleep for the same :) bloody flight was delayed due to the bloody rains. we were at the airport from 12 am, and the flight left at around 7 am :| other posts can wait. first i need to read everyone's blogs :)

l8r

2008-06-03T21:02:00.002+05:30

aw crap, now the papal guard is after me! one of my beer cans hit him on the head, apparently (hey don't "wtf?!?" me! this is ceedy's story!!!) so i'm off to mumbai to cool it for a little while. thankfully though, i lost the feds on that right turn in papua new guinea. be back monday morning. tc evy1. blog on!!!

i'm IT!!!

2008-06-02T18:03:00.001+05:30

I was tagged!!! Again!!!!! Wow this is fun :)

All ritey, I think I’ll do Taarika’s tag first and then Poo’s. Poo’s tag requires quite a bit of thinking. Here again, I don’t think I’ll tag anyone. Doing this for the fun of it :) Pardon me for the bunch of tags I’ve done already :D So here goes nothing…

First tag:

Ok, this one has rules…they are

1. Mention the rules on your blog

2. Link the person who tagged you

3. Write about six unspectacular quirks of yours

4. Tag people if you wanna. If you do, tag 6 of them :)

5. Leave a comment on the tagged person’s blog telling them you’ve tagged them

Quirk 1: I do not mind complete silence when I’m with someone. I am of the opinion that you only need to talk when you have something to really talk about. There’s no point in creating conversations purely for the heck of having something to talk about.

Quirk 2: I am an extremely loquacious online presence even though I might not talk all that much in real life. This is probably because I started chatting long before I started actual socialization processes.

Quirk 3: The place I inhabit and/or frequent tends to be an utter mess. In spite of it, I know exactly where to find something. Like my room for instance, I know which book is under which tee shirt and in which pile of junk the two things are located in :)

Quirk 4: I tend to tell people exactly what I think of them, even though it might be a little, or even extremely unpleasant.

Quirk 5: When I get irked, I swear softly, to myself, but don’t show it out. If I’m really pissed, I insult the lineage of the person or people who pissed me off.

Quirk 6: I read a lot. When I’m reading I’m oblivious to pretty much anything that goes on around me. You literally have to shake me and take the book out of my hand to converse with me on any level. Otherwise I won’t even respond. I’m that into the book.

Pretty much everyone I know has done this tag already :) so I don’t think I’ll be tagging anyone

Second tag: Ok, this is a long one, and I’m going to have to think about the answers a little bit. I gotto come up with songs for various scenarios that will occur in ‘My life – the movie’.

Opening credits: Highway to hell – AC/DC

Waking up: Comfortably numb – Pink Floyd

Average day: Fat lip – Sum 41

First date: Lady in red – Chris de Burgh or Here I am – Bryan Adams

Falling in love: Everything I do – Bryan Adams

Love scene: All about loving you – Bon Jovi

Fighting scene: Let the bodies hit the floor – Drowning Pool

Breaking up: Die, Die, Die my darling – Metallica

Getting back together: Incomplete – BSB or Wonderwall – Oasis

Moving on: Mambo no. 5 – Lou Bega or Cry me a river – Justin Timberlake

Secret love: Teardrop – Massive Attack

Life’s OK: Here comes the hotstepper – Ini Kamoze

Mental breakdown: Duality – Slipknot

Driving: Tokyo Drift – Teriyaki Boys

Learning a lesson: Let it be – The Beatles

Deep thought: Rage on – Dan Seals

Flashback: So far away – Staind

Partying: Party up in here – DMX

Happy Dance: EW!!! I won’t have any happy dances in my movie!!! Will have other dances though, and the song’s gonna be: Turn me on – Kevin Little

Regretting: Adam’s song – Blink 182

Long night alone: Hallowed be thy name – Iron Maiden or Bleeding me - Metallica

Death scene: Fade to black – Metallica

Closing credits: Puritania – Dimmu Borgir

ok, if you're reading this...TAG!!! YOU'RE IT!!!

HA ha!

PeeJays

2008-06-01T22:11:00.003+05:30

Our intrepid journalist, Lay Jeno decided to take a trip into the ancient tradition of chicken jokes. If you find the following material offensive or hateful or irreligious, its not intended to be. They're just jokes. If you still ain't happy, go cluck yourself! Or, as my idol, Homer J Simpson would say, 'Why you little...'

Disclaimer: Extremely subtle humour follows. And you may have to have certain basic minimum knowledge about certain TV shows to understand a couple of them. So laugh even ~~though~~ if you don't get it. Pretty please with sugar on top?

Q. Why did the chicken cross the road?

Logical Answer: To get to the other side.

Homer: mMmMmMmMmMmMm, chicken!

Creationist Answer: And God said ‘let there be chicken!’ and there was, and he spake unto the chicken ‘thou shalt cross the road’

Satan Worshippers Answer: And Lucifer, jealous of God’s creation of the chicken, said ‘let there be roadkill!’

Dexter: Mount Rushmore

Nihilist Answer: Road? Chicken?!?

Hitler: Hence today I believe that I am acting in accordance with the will of the Almighty Creator: by defending myself against the Chicken, I am fighting for the work of the Lord

Zen Philosopher: The circle represents the peace wreathed in the flames of chaos and drumsticks.

Microsoft Windows: Fatal System Error 0X007B3C5D

Charles Darwin: It’s all in the genes. The chicken-o-saurus crossed paths in the Jurassic wilderness.

George W Bush: To get to its WMD stockpile. That’s why we bombed it into oblivion!

Paula Abdul: It was good when you crossed the road the first time but the second time was just so beautiful. You are just so amazing and so talented and…

My Answer: To create a string of bad jokes. Ergo we come to this post.

Q. Why did the turkey cross the road?

Answer: It thought it was a chicken…

Q. Why did the worm cross the road?

Answer: Because the chicken had eaten it…

Q. Why did the daredevil cross the road?

Answer: To prove he wasn’t chicken…

Q. Why did the pterodactyl cross the road?

Answer: So that evolution would ensure that its genes would be carried down from generation to generation, and finally, when chickens evolved, they too would have an insatiable urge to cross roads…

a tag!!!

2008-05-30T14:10:00.005+05:30

ok, i've been tagged by solitaire. been a while since i was actually tagged (the one i lifted off philip's blog was, well, lifted :)) i don't think i'll be tagging anyone, so whoever is reading, feel free to do this one :)

reading: 'kafka on the shore' by haruki murakami. bloody amazing, even though i'm just over halfway through. and also a lot of blogs i've bookmarked :) have a few books with me that i have to read though...

finished reading: 'dawn of empire' by sam barone. it was pretty nice.

listening: metallica, obviously! along with 9.3 gb of other stuff on my hard drive which i've randomised on my player.

wearing: having hols, and am at home. i'm wearing the first thing i could get my hands on just before i went to take a bath. *looks down* oh fuck, i think i'm losing it. wearing pale green shorts and a skin-brown tee :|

watching: the usual...some good movies, porno, n any channel i think has something interesting on in the 0.375 seconds it takes for me to switch from one channel to the next.

thinking: why am i so fucking depressed most of the time?!?

loving: the fact that i'm alone here, at least for the moment...

hating: that i'm stuck here for at least another year...

missing: the feeling you get when you completely trust someone and they do the same to you, when you come first to them, and they come first to you...a time when i didn't have to cover myself with a veneer of humor and sarcasm.

hoping: for anything that gets me somewhere near happy, which just doesn't happen nowadays.

craving: ice cold beer, scotch on the rocks, chicken tikka, ice cream with lots of nuts and chocolate chips.

movies that didn't quite make it

2008-05-26T18:32:00.006+05:30

STAR FARCE

THE SEVENTH SENSE

STAR WHORES

Enlightenment

2008-05-23T15:44:00.003+05:30

We have grown wiser and more mature than all our years, yes we have. We turned 20 today, are also ~~very~~ slightly drunk. Nirvana feels like this, no? Minus the running around naky and shit, that is. ~~We wouldn’t wanna do that now; people would see our PHD and be astounded at the PH-ness of it.~~ Anyhow, let’s get to the point…now what the fuck was it? Fuck that! In all of our matureness we have seasoned our ability to see points where there are none, and make up points when we seem to have forgotten or not gone through them. So the point is there need not necessarily be a point. At this point of time, we are feeling extremely mature and generous and shall ~~infect the world~~ spread the knowledge so that all ~~the gullible morons out there~~ the less benefited people around can imbibe it and transform their lives. Its arbit stuff, so learn well my children (<-- poorly constructed allusion to my PHD).

1. Bird poopies falling on one’s head is a sign of luck. We know a couple of people who have had it happen to them on the morning of a particularly difficult exam and gone on to ace it. We have also seen another person who witnessed both incidents, running around and searching for birds while holding their shirt out, also on the morning of a particularly difficult exam. They did not find a bird that wasn’t constipated on that day and royally flunked.

2. When exams start, mix some laxative along with the bird seed that you hold in your hand. For a more detailed explanation, see point 1.

3. If you have a little brother and someone in your house suffers from constipation, force him to taste everything he gives you to eat (especially if its something only you consume). If he shows the slightest bit of untoward hesitation, consumption of that substance will cause you to poop your brains out and not go to school for the next three days, during which time your best friend will call you up and you’ll explain the entire shitty (<--pun) situation to them and ask them not to tell anyone about it and then, finally, when you get to school, everyone knows about it and you have a new nickname which just happens to be the name of the substance which your younger brother liberally laced with laxative. We were the “best friend” in this lesson.

4. Sticking with poopies, since we’ve already started on that vast subject, it is theorized that bird poopies taste like chicken. This theory arose from an observation. We were sitting in a park and having lunch with some of our friends. One person was feeling very loquacious and wasn’t paying much attention to their lunch box, in which a bird proceeded to mark its territory. Obviously, we didn’t tell them anything as we were fervently wishing they’d take a look at it and shut up, or perhaps start cribbing about it instead of droning on and on about something vaguely as interesting as rubbing an acre of wooden floor with sandpaper. They shoveled another mouthful of the contents of their lunchbox and wondered why their very vegetarian meal tasted like chicken.

5. Some people are tremendously funny. Not as funny as we are, but still. In the twelfth, when we received our English answer paper, one of our friends took it from our hands and went to the teacher’s desk. We got back in our hands a paper which, at the very top, read ‘atter phailure’. We found that incident tremendously funny and thought it would be worth mentioning.

6. There are such things as ghosts. We, for a long time, believed that our classroom was haunted. The ghost seemed to only come out when it was exceedingly cloudy and there was very little light outside. We came to this conclusion after, one day, we found a shirt (under which was a pair of trousers) floating in front of the blackboard, with a piece of chalk rising up from the desk and writing chemical equations on the board of its own accord. We had also seen the shirt turn around and a set of pearly white teeth suddenly appear, as though the ghost was giving us a smile. Ritual exorcisms had the right effect, but with a weird side effect. Our Chemistry professor who hailed from Tirunelveli left the school. We hear occasional reports of haunting from the place he is at now.

7. Drinking vodka in copious quantities regularly is known to cause erectile dysfunction. Drinking it dry has the same effect. We think diluting vodka with beer solves that problem and have also found that after a couple of shots, one stops caring.

8. We have discovered that mixing different alcoholic beverages causes people to act in weird ways, get sickly sentimental and/or say stuff which is beyond the realm of human comprehension. Vodka and beer caused one of our friends to say that we shouldn’t have been drinking and that ‘injurious consumption is alcohol to health’. It causes our father to say various things, from ancient songs to comments about politicians’ ancestries to stuff I don’t feel comfortable mentioning on here :|

9. Fuck! We are still a 19 year old, only a year older…

Now we will sit and ponder and start growing a beard which we can stroke when we are sitting and pondering or when we are pretending to sit and ponder. Unfortunately, we don't have that much facial hair. We are prepared to wait, however...

WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS!!!

2008-05-22T09:55:00.001+05:30

UNITED for ever!!!

A first

2008-05-20T20:20:00.003+05:30

I met with my first accident on a two wheeler, this Sunday. Embarrassingly, it was on a fucking Kinetic Honda. So now, I can go be a member of this tattooed die hard biker gang and be a part of their extremely macho first crash conversation…

Biker 1: Oh, I remember my first accident. Yes siree, it was on my very first Ducati. Don’t remember too much about what happened though. I woke up in the hospital and found my wife staring at me worriedly.

Biker 2: O yea, I broke my collar bone, my shin, three ribs and two teeth…on this very Harley.

Me: I remember mine like it was only yesterday, when actually it was on the day before. (I pause for laughter here, but get only uncomprehending stares). I fell off a scooter. Scraped my arm and my leg; here, wanna see?

At this point, it’d end with me running out when they’re rolling on the floor laughing their fucking asses off. Fuck, it’s so so SO embarrassing! To top it all off, it bloody hurts! Yea, that’s right, even though it’s only a bit (well, more than a bit, but not a lot) of skin that I, as my dad puts it ‘donated to the road’, it fucking hurts!!! Ma took me to a doctor yesterday because I was yelping around in pain any time a stiff draft came my way. The doc’s like

Doc: (bites his tongue) Yikes, skin wound eh?

(Me: Ya think?!?)

Doc: Its gonna hurt like hell. (To my mum) When it’s a skin wound like this, all the nerve endings will be exposed.

Ma: I told him not to bathe today.

Doc: O no no no he should have a bath. All the debris has to be cleared away. And it looks like you have a scab on top. That prevents air from reaching the wound and it’s gonna get all infected. You should go home, take a bath, and make sure you scrape off all that scab.

(Me: You ought to be fucking kidding me…scrape it off? It hurts when a fucking breeze hits it!)

At the end of it all, I took a bath, scraped off all of the bloody scab, scared quite a few neighbors while I was at it. Come to think of it, I was literally moaning in pain because I couldn’t scream. I hope they didn’t take it for something else. Fuck, that’s probably why they’re all looking at me funny now. O well, 19 has been a fucking bad year. Can’t wait till it finally ends…I just hope it’s done sodomizing me before it finally dies kicking and screaming.

Below is a poor recreation of the accident using Microsoft Paint :) sorry, couldn't help this 1 :P

On holy men and shit

2008-05-19T17:27:00.004+05:30

Foreword: It is only fair to tell you that the author is a staunch atheist who finds it extremely irritating that his ma rubs religion into his face every single day. If your feeble minds can't stand a bit of religious mockery, you can go fuck yourselves.

“Oh fucketh! If I only kneweth, I could haveth fatheredeth more childreneth than the entireth fucking NBA Players Association. Eth!”

-PlayToe (Plato’s homophonic evil twin brother)

Dramatic recreation of actual events:

Lady: I have terrible headaches o swami.

Swami: Ah, I know just the cure…take off your clothes and let us copulate like hell so that your soul is cleansed by the holiness contained within my loins.

Lady: Ok o holy one. Whatever you think will lead to the cure

*a month later*

Lady: O holy one, the headaches have not ceased.

Swami: Hmmm…this is bad. The evil spirit that resides within you has maligned your soul greatly. I sense a disturbance in your aura that resonates with a growing evil.

Lady: My aura? Is that something like my kidney?

Swami: Umm…technically, o0o look, a birdie!

Lady: Birdie? Where?!?

Swami: Ahem! As I was saying, yours is a particularly difficult case. Do not worry my child, I know just the thing.

Lady: What is it, o wise one?

Swami: Let’s try a different position this time…one of them has bloody got to work. Or we’ll try sequencing them.

Now, seriously, how did this god-man shit get all out of hand? Take a look at this, for instance. It’s appalling to see that nobody fucking reported any of this. He’d have to have people to assist him now, wouldn’t he? No way are people so fucking stupid that they’d believe he was doing something legitimate with the truckloads of little girls that he took into his bedroom. O well, at least the police don’t need to raid any more DVD shops for a while – they have a stock of porno that’ll last them through the next three months. You must’ve heard about the swami who threatened to kill himself at the police station right? Then there is, perhaps, the biggest fish in the ocean.

Have people really become that fucking stupid? Anything that has a religious tag and the mob will gulp it down like anything. Wow, at this rate, maybe one should just stop cutting one’s hair, grow a fucking beard that extends from one’s chin to one’s crotch, preach peace and brotherly love while dealing with illegal arms shipments, be at the centre of a whirlpool of sex, pedophilia, lies, booze, videotape and drugs, shouting out gibberish occasionally, in a state of extreme stoned-ness so that one’s followers can interpret that as a message from god when one was in an enlightened state. All rightie then, one demands to be addressed as Swami Fraudananda from now on. Bow down at our feet, mortals, for we are the reincarnation of the one true god!

Prediction? What do you mean you need a fucking prediction? Oh, all right…we fucking predict that some guy named George who lives in the heart of Papua New Guinea shall die of extreme constipation at the ripe old age of seventy three. Now that that’s over and done with…all the ladies who need a cure for headache form a line in front of our palatial mansion please. We shall call you in one by one...

arbit stuff

2008-05-18T17:16:00.003+05:30

why, you ask yourself...and its not the first time. its kinda hard to try to comprehend most of the stuff you do because you're never in complete control of what you think. every single fucking decision you make could've been different if you had been in a different state of mind. what makes it harder is the fact that you've been going down a road you know isn't the right one, but its the only choice that you're not blinded to. rather, the only choice that you are willing to see. you know it isn't the right one almost all the way to the very end of it. you stand there, in sight of the destination that you've been trying so hard to avoid, just trying to comprehend how utterly wrong you are. you've become so numb and distant that you no longer understand something that has been there with you your whole fucking life, something that brought you to a point that you were comfortable being at. its funny how you can warp and distort everything that happens/happened, just because of a single event. now you've distanced you from yourself, so much so that you try to hide behind a third person's point of view. wow, has it really come that far? i know i hate people telling me what to do, but i never realized that i've been so obsessed with that hate that i've come to a point where i am convinced that i should not do that exact thing. so do me a favour...don't fucking tell me what i should or shouldn't do. its my life, i'll fucking figure it out. i'm perspicacious enough to discern what's going to happen as a result of what i do, and i do not fucking appreciate it when you point it out to me. next time, i think i'll just say 'go fuck yourself' and be on my way. don't let it come to that. interpret this as you will, but just know that there are some of you i'd rather not lose.

crib zone

2008-05-13T13:25:00.014+05:30

foreword: fuck!

what do you mean a foreword isn't a single word?!? you should start calling it forewords then. nitwits! i'm just having fun cribbing about stuff on here. it isn't meant to have any semblance of logic or coherence. its just shit i come up with from my own lil fucked up head...hm, maybe i should've just stuck with 'fuck!' o well, here it goes...this one is dedicated to the Invisible Pink Unicorn who nobody pays attention to just because its invisible and yet pink...

*zoom in*
mmmmm, invisible pink unicorn...

Owing to the tremendous advancements in the field of psychiatry, depression was something people could fight against. Na, scratch that! Hmmm, let me see…ah, here we go! Due to the tremendous advancements in various fields, the most important of them being p2p networks and torrents, porno was made much more easily, illegally and freely obtainable to people of all ages, including small little kids who hadn’t ever heard [of] Eminem and thereby hadn’t ever watched the rhinoceri humping each other in the slim shady video or gotten the idea of watching the Discovery Channel from the lyrics. Shit, I forgot what I was saying. O yea, depression! Right, major advancements in the porn [sharing] industry were finally turning the tide for the people. But unfortunately, causality rears its ugly head. Or, as Merovingian so aptly puts it, “We are all victims of causality. I drink too much wine, I must take a piss. Cause and effect. Au revoir!” Let me put it in layman’s terms. If something is done, something happens because the something that was done was done…cause and effect. For example, you drink a lot of alcohol just after you’ve had a heavy lunch, you puke. You don’t? Well I do, but I guess I’ll have to look for a more general example. Ah, here we go…you watch Ellen DeGeneres dance, you puke. If you don’t have anything inside you to puke, you die of pure unadulterated horror. The consequences of these advancements were dire. God got all bored and shit, what with people running around non-depressedly and stuff. So he [sic] decided to unleash a new wave of horror unto this plane [sic].

In the beginning, there were less of depressive ailments. God said ‘let there be reality shows’ and there were. After the first season(s), circumstances grew beyond god’s control. So he said ‘fuck, I’m out of here!’ and willed himself out of existence. And the world was wreathed in chaos and pandemonium, which initially came in the form of poor imitations of American ~~deepthr~~ Idol. To its credit though, American ~~deepthr~~ Idol did give us its share of moments, like weird banana dude and sounds-like-she’s-being-humped woman. Not to mention the poor imitations, which offered such entertainment as the I-wanna-be-Mariah-Carey-even-though-I-can’t-fucking-speak-english-but-I’m still-gonna-try-to-pass-off-some-randomly-assorted-syllables-as-one-of-her popular-songs-lady, on the Bulgarian version of Idol.

Needless to say, depression rates skyrocketed. Especially with the advent of such shows as Idea Star Singer or whatever the fuck it is that they call it now…now that was a truly horrific show, especially since parents and neighbors watched it with zest, volume all the way to the max, while the poor children contracted nasty ear infections caused by stuffing whatever the fuck they could get their hands on quickly into their ears.

Oh, it’s not just singing shows. There are dancing shows, survival shows, fear factor (this one yours truly likes…so sorry), cooking shows, fashion designer shows, pay-per-view porn (*drool!*) Whoops, how did that get in here now? Fuck, I need to reorganize my channels. On second thought, hold on…let me er…reorganize them right now.

All right, I’m done ~~watching~~ reorganizing for now. Seriously though, what’s the point of poorly staged performances, bad actors and incompetent judges who assume attitudes handed out to them? These fucking bastards are besmirching the characteristics of classic porn, and making money off it without any actual sex! Well, sounds-like-she’s-being-humped woman being the only debatable exception. Just think of our children, think of the inspiration they’ll get to watch porn, think of all the condoms they’re gonna buy, think how expensive they’re going to be for you when you go get them at the shop next time around, and think of how many more children there are going to be when the price of condoms goes too high for you to afford them and you’re too scared to get your thingy *altered* and how many more condoms they’re going to buy. The very thought makes me sick!

The next thing you know, there’s going to be a reality show named ‘so you think you can blog’ and the expert celebrity judges are going to be Ellen I-dance-like-a-nerve-damaged-gibbon-juiced-up-on-acid DeGeneres, Barney the-pedophile-in-a-gay-looking-dinosaur-suit purple dinosaur and, well, Paula whee-I’m-in-a-world-of-my-own-inside-my-head-oops-I-go-poopie Abdul.

Hey, come to think of it, that isn’t a bad idea. Maybe I should market it and make millions and billions of dollars and stockpile condoms before they get frightfully expensive so I can sell a lot of them at exorbitant prices and make billions and trillions of more dollars. Damn I’m good…

Afterwords: Ok, this is verified fact...American Idol isn't the first one on the list. That credit goes to Pop Idol. Ellen DeGeneres can't dance worth a bloody fuck and yet insists on grinding her way through the braindead audience who cheer and drool and take off a good 10 years from their life. Idea Star Singer is a Mallu version of Idol, and it went on for as long as it takes a pair of three-toed sloths to meet, start dating, meet each others parents, plan the wedding, copulate like hell, travel around the world 63.674583 times and have a million kids. The second season is currently going on, and is expected to end by February 29, 2064

argh!

2008-05-11T18:03:00.002+05:30

foreword: you won't understand a fucking thing until you read the blog i've linked to on this post. the post immediately below the ".gif" of the dancing guy i mean

shit, i've got internals starting tomorrow, and here i've been busy, well, not studying to say the least. so what's new eh? well, it all started on sunday, september 16, 2007. that's when the bastard decided to post something on his blog. he hasn't updated it since then, but i don't think that matters any more. i remember the very first time i read it. it seemed so typically, well, him!!! had a really good time reading it. the guy's damn funny. well, then it fucking hit me...right on the eve of my exams. right now its a subconscious examination-eve ritual - that's right, people, every fucking exam i have, even those fucking class tests some of the teachers who think we're primary school kids set for us - and its fucking driving me crazy!!!!!!!! last time, i messaged him saying i couldn't fucking concentrate because of his stupid post. the reply i got was 'thanks macha. that's the greatest inspiration a blogger can get' i ain't fucking telling him any more. wouldn't wanna accidentally inspire him again, would i? for all i know it could be something much worse that affected me at a much more inappropriate time. i shudder just thinking of it. shit, what am i supposed to do now?!?

FUCK!!!

woohoo

2008-05-03T20:09:00.002+05:30

wow, the best damn day i've had in quite a while...especially since what happened last week happened :) it all started with the 5 of us - Sri, Guru, V, J and me. we were at v's house. a whole bottle of smirnoff and three beers later, everyone was feeling sorta good. we spent a lot of time on the terrace, laughing our arses off. plus, i got to drive a motorbike...well, two of them. we went to play basketball after our little er...dalliance. v couldn't take the heat and he got all pukey; we were all feeling pretty bad after that happened. the basketball court was quite a long way away, and we didn't want to let v drive, so i was given the job of taking him there on his bike. unknown to them, this was the first time i was taking a motorbike out on the highway :) well, i could drive! i wouldn't risk anyone's life or anything (mine, sure, but not someone else's). and so we went to the basketball court (stalled once along the way), played basketball, broke my sandals, sprained my neck. oh, and i got to drive a pulsar 180 after that. it was so amazingly awesome!!! i think i'm in love *looks up and reminisces* i do need a little bit more practice tho. on the whole, amazing day. plus, i think i'm building up my alcohol threshold. hurrah!!!

p.s. we might have another little get together next tuesday >:)

A wee bit of magic

2008-05-02T11:39:00.003+05:30

For the uninformed, Senate Hall, right here in Trivandrum, is playing host to a so-called international magic conference, Vismayam 2008. Ma procured a couple of ‘hard to get’ passes. Since I enjoy freeloading as much as the next person, I went. And so it was that an extremely-irritated-owing-to-a-dreadful-may-day-and-lack-of-nicotine-and-alcohol g-man made his way to Senate Hall. Upon entering the hall (it’s a pretty big one, with a balcony n shit) yours truly was given the option of sitting anywhere in the last 12 rows of seats. Apparently, the 1000 seats up front were reserved for ‘delegates’. ‘Delegates’, here, literally meant any person related to one (or more) of the magicians or members of the Magic Academy who were there to attend the conference, the relation being not in any way more distant than an umpteenth cousin, thrice removed. Obviously, there was a lot more than just 1000 people who came in that category. Thankfully, I was sitting in a seat where I could see what happened on stage, unlike the poor people whose view was stymied by three giant camera crews, bang in the middle of the central aisle. Later, I would wish I was one of those people whose view was stymied or even one of those cameramen so that I could throw one of those huge, bulky cameras that blocked everyone’s view so that their view would no longer be blocked and they too would be prompted to throw something huge and bulky and dense on to the stage. But we’ll get to that later on…

The ticket said ‘Be seated by 6.15’ and so we (dad and I) were. After a seemingly interminable 30 minute wait, huge hairy guy (let’s call him Bear) walks on stage and goes all EmCee-ish on us. He did speak pretty good English though. And, he introduced the first act on stage, a Japanese magician by the name of Fukai. He did some pretty neat umbrella tricks. But after a while it got so boring I started composing parodies of bad nursery rhymes. It was like

Old Jap Fukai had an act

E I E I O

And in his act he had umbrellas

E I E I O

With an umbrella umbrella here and an umbrella umbrella there

Here umbrella there umbrella everywhere umbrella umbrella

Well, you get the picture right? There were big ones and small ones and medium ones and really small ones. It was almost as if he had umbrellas stuffed up every stuff-able place in his body and attire. After a while, one started wishing it would rain indoors so that he’d conjure up a big one, hold it over his head, and haul his umbrella-stuffed butt out of there. And finally, with a flourish of umbrellas, his 10 minutes came to an end. Not before he conjured an Indian flag out of thin air. That one sure got the audience going.

Then, Bear came out again and initiated the inauguration ceremony. It started way later than scheduled, obviously! The reason was quite guessable. The chief guests were all politicians, including the Chief Minister himself. After a long, drawn out speech session, in which each of the three Ministers spoke, in bloody Malayalam. One thinks they were under the impression that every single er…delegate in there (described as coming from all over India and also the world – outside the world, actually, as said in the inauguration ceremony) had a universal translation unit clipped to their ears. Twenty minutes later, the speeches and crap were all over. Or so one thought…Bear came out again and announced that they had some entertainment for the magicians.

Then came a long, drawn out program, organised by none other than Soorya Krishnamoorthy himself! It was pretty interesting at first…the chenda group and the two Kathak dancers with giant head dresses. But then they kinda lost me with the gay-looking people with parted moustaches, dressed up, I think, to look like kings (they had crowns anyways), hopping and prancing about (I don’t even need to say that this part looked gay, do I? Aw c’mon!!! Grown up men with parted moustaches dressed up in pink and blue and green and purple shiny dresses, jumping about to an ancient mucho gay Tamil song!?!). All of this went on like forever. Then there was a Kathakali scene – Draupadi’s vasthrakshep. It was all well and good, but there’s a time and a place…just try to imagine this…people who’ve come to see some magic sitting there from 6.15 up until 8.15, and they’ve gotten just 10 minutes of it. To no small wonder, quite a few people just left at this point.

After that whole thing got over, they finally moved on to the actual show. We had another guy who came on stage and introduced the magicians. He performed some pretty neat tricks, and he was funny too…too bad the bloody audience had no idea he was even making a joke! I laughed though, causing the lady sitting next to me to stare at me with a mixture of bemusedness and ‘shit, of all the people, I had to sit next to this paranoid moron!’ O well, the rest of the show was pretty eventless. We had two more performers performing kiddy magic – an American dude in a purple dress, who kept displaying the word ‘ice’ everywhere, and saying it was ‘hot hot hot’, talking to the audience in a barely audible mutter, and a Russian dude, who conjured cards from thin air and magically joined up three separate necklaces to make a really big one. All thoughts of wanting to be one of the cameramen had vanished by this point, and one was left wishing that one were in the Atlantic coastal forests of eastern Brazil, watching a three toed sloth climb up a really tall tree for a couple of weeks. But by 9.05, it was all done, and we were asked to haul our butts out of there.

Having sat through the entire torturous 3 hours of it expecting some Criss Angel-esque performances, one was left dreadfully disappointed. The feeling was the same as that experienced after watching 10,000 BC a few months back…it was one of ‘can I get a refund for my free pass?’

P.S. The author is still suffering from a serious lack of alcohol and nicotine. Invites and/or contributions to ease this delicate situation shall be wholeheartedly accepted. I'd like to say, for the record, that i like vodka, and i prefer Davidoffs

mayday

2008-05-01T17:55:00.001+05:30

Firstly, pun intended. Its supposed to be p(h)unny even! Today was May day…we didn’t have college, and we didn’t have to do our stupid project thingy (which has been eating at my neurons more than ever of late) so I was looking forward to a nice peaceful day. So the call from Sri-Sri was more than welcome, when I got it :) Actually, he just gave me a missed call and I called him back, but who cares about that now. Well, the conversation went like this

Sri: Dude, you wanna maybe get together today?

Me: Oh, sure, who else is gonna be there?

Sri: Call up V and J too; they’ll be there for sure…

Me: Fine, I’ll call them up.

Sri: We’ll go in the afternoon, so call me up sometime then.

Me: Ok, will do!

I was looking forward to it. Afternoon came, and I called him up.

Sri: You called them up dude?

Me: O shit, I’ll do it now. Hold on!

Tried J, he wasn’t answering. I didn’t bother calling V up, because he’s currently out of action with a slipped disc in his back. So, I called up Sri again

Me: Man, J isn’t picking up. I think he’s asleep. I’m outta cash anyhow, so we’ll shift it to next week? I’ll get my allowance then :)

Sri: No probs, I have cash. The two of us will go?

Me: Wow, ok, sure, where do we go?

Sri: *says the name of some bar I’ve never even heard of*

Me: wtf?

Sri: Just wait near the old Coffee Beanz place and I’ll come pick you up.

Me: Sure, when?

Sri: NOW!

So I tell dad I’m going to meet Sri, and jog all the way to the extraction point ;) Let me brag a bit here, I jogged a mile in 7 minutes. He got there around a minute after I did.

Sri: @#$* place is closed today man…

Me: Crap, where do we go then?

Sri: I don’t know, this is your neighborhood, you tell me!

Me: How about that place we went to the other day?

Sri: Sure, we’ll check it out…

We went there (checked out the Beverages Corp. building on the way, but it was closed too) to be greeted by the shutters. Sri tried yelling for someone, but there was no response. Swearing at bars that closed on May 1 and didn’t have open back doors, we went over to a juice shop next to it and got ourselves a couple of pink lemonades. Sri dropped me off a lil bit away from where I live.

And so, irritated and un-inebriated, I walked in and got on here. I decided to do a little bit of research on May Day and grandly oppose it with an extended philippic. As it turns out, May Day celebrates the achievements of the labor movement, which was initiated to better the condition of workers. It’s hard to be against something like that. So I think I’ll just go ‘Whee, I learned something today!’ Maybe we should plan more bar trips, especially on holidays. I might end up being a genius or something :)

Stuff, part 2

2008-04-25T13:34:00.004+05:30

Wow, its been so much fun just thinking about life at Loyola! Here's the second installment :) The more i think about what happened, the more i miss school. I doubt I'll ever stop missing it. College sucks!!! I just hope that PG will be more fun than this. It'd be great if it was anywhere near as fun as Loyola was. I can always hope, though, can't I?

Fourth standard: Wow, this was a pretty wild year. We graduated to using pens from pencils this year, and also, for the first time in my life, I was part of a ‘gang’, if you could call it that. There were 4 of us if I remember correctly - D, K, S (yep, the bloody traitor in the UKG incident) and me. We pretty much remained a gang up until the 7^th. Four years of temporary insanity, that’s what I call it now. It all started in this year. Someone thought it’d be bloody brilliant to create ‘words’ by stringing together random syllables. How bad could it have been? Lets just say it was a la Phoebe (hint: the *Swedish* national anthem! Still don’t get it? How about "Ipan Stripan, Glupi Glabi!" And that is the Swedish national anthem! Thank you for asking! (looks annoyed). Ah, NOW you get it!) I’m not dwelling on that too much.

The greatest disappointment in my life (at that point of time) happened in the fourth. I was a very gullible kid. I didn’t think people would ever lie. We had these tall trees with needly leaves (I think they were needle-leaf pines of some sort). They used to propagate through these small spiky bumpy pine-cone like thingies. I was holding one of them in my hands and looking at it fascinatedly, when a senior came along.

Me: Chetta, ithenthuva? (Bro, wat’s this thingy?)

Him: Ayye, arinjoode? Ithu choodu vellathil ettu manikkoor thaazthi vachal oru kochu squirrel undaakum. (Lol! You don’t know? Just keep this inside hot water for 8 hours and a baby squirrel will come out)

Me: Wow! Really?

Him: Ahaan!

That evening, I ran into my house, all excited, showed ma the pine-cone thingy and told her I’d be giving her a surprise the next day. At night, I heated up some water and dunked the thingy inside it. The next morning, no bloody squirrel! I waited for two more days before I finally gave up. That’s probably a contender for the saddest I’ve ever been in my life :(

I’ve never quite gotten to our PT (Physical Training) sir, have I? Well, his name was…we called him Turkey :) and he was about as pleasant as a cactus up one’s backside. As prickly too! He used to have his own way of punishing people. You’d either get a really painful pinch on your armpit, or he’d lift you up by your two ears. But here’s the thing, if you were really bad, he’d use his finishing move…the nutcracker. Yea, you guessed it! Thankfully, I’ve only been hoisted up by my ears…twice I think. We had PT classes in a roofed part of our football ground, which we called ‘the pavilion’. One day, he called people out randomly and said ‘take the class!’ Brainy little midgets that people were (myself included), one by one, they tried to lift up the pavilion, causing him to shake his head in weary resignation. Then he called up Vishnu M (have to give credit where credit is due here). He strode up to the front of the class, turned around and gave us his commands (Sit down, stand up, jump, right turn, et al.). I think that’s the only time I’ve seen old Turkey smile.

In every bunch of people, there’s always a notorious one. We had our fair share of them, but the outstandingly noticeable one of us was B. Bloody clever he was, too! One fine PT class, Turkey strode over to him (menacingly). Well, by this time, hoisting B up by his ears was a daily routine, so Turkey decided to adopt a different method of punishment. We had a pretty big ground (its circumference was around 200 metres). Turkey surveyed the vast and barren field stretched out in front of him and issued a royal proclamation “Run 3 rounds!!!” While we were all tsk-ing and offering him our deepest sympathies (telepathically of course! Nobody was daft enough to as much as move), B bent his head and ran three rounds around Turkey. We were all dumbstruck by this brazen display of defiance, and stared openmouthed as he announced ‘I’m done!’ Then, we stared openmouthed (with our fists shoved inside as we desperately tried not to laugh) as he was once again hoisted up by his ears and twirled around in mid air.

Library periods started in the fourth. One hour of every week (the second last hour of Monday, if I remember correctly) was dedicated to – as it appeared in our time tables – ‘Lib’. What happened was our class teacher would hand out random books to people. We got to take the book home and had to bring it back the next week, when we’d exchange with some other guy in class. We were all waiting excitedly for our very first library hour. We queued up in front of the teacher’s desk, and she began handing out books. I collected mine, and walked to my seat, after which everyone made fun of me because I had gotten a book with lots of pictures of semi-naked tribal people on its cover (and on the inside). I was blushing enough to become an incandescent light source. The book turned out to be pretty amazing. It was about sound. That book would later make me love physics :)

Fifth standard: We were all tremendously excited as we were moving to another building. The BIG one! We had never seen any of our teachers before, and were quite apprehensive. Plus, we had all new subjects! Social studies gave way to History, Civics and Geography, and Science to Chemistry, Physics and Biology. We still had to study Malayalam and Hindi though. We could go up to the giant library section now that we were seniors, and we had Wednesday morning ‘Assembly’ sessions with the rest of the seniors. I don’t remember much of what happened in the fifth; only that we ran through 3 Geography sirs in the first 3 weeks of class, and ended up with one huge hulking sadistic bear of a guy who used to enjoy thumping innocent kids right between their shoulder blades.

Then there was Math class. We had a pretty intimidating teacher, Mrs. P. A friend of mine, R, used to bring bubble gum to class daily, and, customarily, used to share it with me :) One fine day, Mrs. P was teaching us about triangles. After completing the sums she gave us to do, I – ever the impatient one – turned to R and told him: ‘gimme my share of the gum, man’ and he obliged, albeit with one eyebrow raised. I was rolling the piece of bubble gum in my palms, all the while crooning ‘my precioussssss’ when, all of a sudden, a voice rings out

Mrs. P: Ganesh, what are you rolling around in your hand?

Me: My preciou-huh?

Mrs. P: Bring that over here!

Me: Yes ma’am…

Mrs. P: What is this? (Sniffed it) It smells kinda funny.

Me: Ummm…heh heh (goofy expression)

Some idiot: It looks like clay. Must be that new elastic type or something!

Mrs P: (tries stretching it out and rolling it back into a ball) Its some kind of clay?

Me: Er…its chewing gum

And my precious went sailing out the door and onto the football ground (not the ground where Turkey used to terrorize us, the other football ground) and I was made to stand up for the rest of the period. I never asked R to share his chewing gum with me after that :|

A lot of firsts in the fifth…first inter-class pookkalam contest of our lives was conducted just before our Onam exams. S took charge of proceedings (he was the biggest guy in the class by a long shot). Sometime that day, I got royally pounded by S owing to my clumsiness in the proximity of the pookkalam (nothing actually happened to it!). The first major cricket match of my life took place in this year. It was two houses pitted against the other two – AP (Apollo Pioneers) and GG (Gemini Giants) against JJ (Jupiter Jetsetters) and SS (Sputnik Spacemen). I was in SS, and had never played cricket on such a grand scale (there were around 30 of us playing). I was placed in a fielding position near where S (this guy was B in the UKG ‘butthead’ incident) was located. He turned around to me and said menacingly ‘give me the ball when you get it’. I nodded and took up my fielding stance. The very next ball was hit in my direction. I ran, picked it up, turned back, and threw it at S.

Everyone: @#%*! You @#$&*, why did you @#*% throw the $@#* ball at him instead of at the #%@* stumps?

I turn around to S and look at him quizzically

S: Well, why didn’t you?

Me: You asked me to give you the @#$* ball!

S: Not like this!

And I didn’t play any more cricket for the rest of that year. Instead, the gang and I took up cliff climbing. There was this sheer rock face, sorta like a cliff, with tones of hand- and leg-holds in between, at the very edge of the ground. We became pretty adept at climbing up and down.

Sixth standard: Regrettable behaviour owing to the ‘gang’. This is precisely why I describe it as a period of ‘temporary insanity’. Started playing cricket again this year (I really loved playing the game…couldn’t stay away from it for too long). As in all gangs, ours had its share of internal conflicts. More than the usual gang’s I daresay. It involved one melodramatic situation after another. Here’s the first one…I was busy playing cricket, when S (the blood traitor, duh!) ran onto the field and told me that the other two gang members had turned on him and beat him close to a bloody pulp. And so, chivalrously, I ran to his rescue. I told my teammates ‘I’ll be Bach!’ and ran. Right into a bloody ambush! The other two morons, at this point, tried to push me down a slope. Obviously, it was a steep slope. It also had a lot of trees, so I grabbed hold of one and stopped me from er…tumbling down it. The slow, seemingly never ending split up of the gang started at this point. The future of it involved animated recounting of the dreadful tale that was ‘an attempt at pushing me down a cliff onto a pile of rocks’, in the Principal's office. Yep, we took our fights straight over there. Hey! I was still a kid back then!!! So quit laughing!!! I will SO murder you if you try to shove this in my face.

Sixth standard was when Hindi became much more threatening. Our teacher, Mrs. R, used Hindi which was as appalling as her English. I guess you know all about mallu Hindi teachers. I don’t really need to elaborate here! Me, being the brilliant Hindi student that I was, used to be one of her frequent victims. She harangued me in English, Hindi, Malayalam, and a combination of all three. Apparently, I was so bad that it was the same situation at PTA meetings. But I guess my parents had grown quite used to the fact that I bloody sucked at Hindi, so they didn’t say much.

8 random facts

2008-04-20T17:37:00.005+05:30

i am still working on, well, stuff, part 2. it looks like its going to be indefinitely delayed owing to the fact that i am currently way too busy doing my bloody mini project (read as getting high a lot owing to the frustration of not getting anything we connect on the breadboard). so, in order to rescue philip from "the wrath of the blog daivangal for 7 generations to come", our hero (me!) is feverishly working on forwarding the tag chain. all right, so here are the rules

rules:
1. each player starts with 8 random facts/habits about themselves.
2. people who are tagged, write a blog post about their own 8 random things, and post these rules.
3. at the end of your post you need to tag 8 people and include their names. don’t forget to leave them a comment and tell them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.
4. if you fail to do this within eight hours, you will not reach third series or attain your most precious goals for at least two more lifetimes.

and here we go...

1. i hate capital letters. i dunno, i just do. hated it when i couldn't avoid them in academics! i still do hate it that i can't avoid them now. stupid ancient mad scientist guys had to be fucking obsessed with caps!!!

2. i have never ever had a crush on anyone (well, except for salma hayek and kate beckinsale...but that's different). honestly, i haven't!!! (p.s. fuck you, i'm not gay!)

3. i have a very low alcohol threshold. i feel kinda tipsy after just 3 beers :(

4. if there was something called a gkq (general knowledge quotient), my score would be somewhere in the vicinity of minus infinity.

5. i'm obsessed with punctuation marks...i use them extravagantly, and unnecessarily, and, as a result, produce irksome, long-winded, sinuous sentences that don't really lead anywhere in particular, like, for example - hmmm...i can't think of anything right about now; no, wait! - maybe this sentence?

6. i'm a perfectionist...which is to say, i get very very irritated with most things because they just aren't anywhere near perfect. even a whole lot of the things i do!

7. i swear a lot...i don't need any particular reason, i just do it. poor bob jumps when i say 'fuck' (which is every pi seconds). i even got him to swear once...unwittingly of course, but he did. wow, i'm evil!

8. i don't mind being alone. physically i mean. as long as i know there's someone i can talk to anytime i want to. i guess that feeling is enough to get me going. funny thing is, most of the time i don't tell anyone. that's a good thing, i think...

ok, there you have it. 8 facts. as random as i could make them. now i've got to tag 8 people (9 to be on the safe side :D). so here we go! i tag thomas, cain, sharan, gow, shil, nivi, hektor , hari and karthik

Stuff, part 1

2008-04-16T17:05:00.003+05:30

I saw a couple of posts on Hari’s blog, on memories and how people tend to forget a lot of them. And I guess that made me dredge up all of those I’m capable of recollecting :) I can’t remember too much about what other people did, sadly. Anyhow, here’s the ~~censored~~ carefully edited version ;)

UKG: I used to be a friendly, kind, caring and helpful kid (emphasis: used to be). One fine lunch break, I walked in on this monstrous guy (B) picking on my best friend (S). I (the puny one) tried breaking it up, but to no avail. So I did the only thing I could do…I ran to our class teacher and told her exactly what had happened and recited the exact word(s) B had called S. I believe he called him a butthead (that’s the rough English translation of it anyhow) which was a pretty blasphemous term for a KG kid. On interrogation, the bloody traitor (S of course) flatly denied the accusations against B and called them baseless. I got a tongue-whipping from the teacher, and later, an ass-whipping from B. I think I started not being that friendly or kind or caring or helpful.

Then there was this *little* incident which people were talking about for a pretty long time. J1 had a bowel movement while class was going on, and found J2s class diary a pretty darn convenient place to go poo-poo :| Even I had an incidence of temporary incontinence, but to my credit, it was in my shorts.

We had this kid named Anto Jose in our KG class. He used to sing, dance and act pretty darn well. Sadly, he left school after that year, and none of us knew what became of him. Apart from the grisly rumours spread by (lets just call him) RumourMan, that is. The rumour was that he lost his life in an accident with an auto-rickshaw. So if anyone knows an Anto Jose (he’ll be around 20 at this point in time) could you please let me know?

This one time, I was climbing up a tree along with some friends. Big, huge senior guy jumps out and scares the living daylights out of me. I fall off the tree and land on a rock, on my head. I don’t remember anything else that happened in the UKG (Duh!)

First standard: I don’t think this qualifies as a memory exactly, because it’s more along the lines of a series of fragmented pictures. I remember that people used to run behind me during interval time, because I had developed this taste for chocolate pastry, and used to have a snack box. Apparently, it was not just me who had a taste for pastry, chocolate or otherwise. The one thing I do remember about the first standard was that we had a classmate who went by the name of John Valiaveettil. He had this big geoid head, and used to speak amazing English. He kinda left school that year as well. All of us used to play with this small toy gun he had (he was a pretty fun guy to be with).

By this time, we had a gang in bus number 1. There were 5 of us, if I remember correctly, including this amazingly funny guy, Donald Don Bosco. As was the tradition, he left school in a year or two as well :( I used to really like the guy.

Second standard: I had to bear the disgrace of receiving zero marks for an English paper. Hey, it wasn’t my bloody fault. Nobody bloody told me that we had to write the paper in bloody cursive! I thought it was just another weird thing that I had to study (albeit in the first standard. I had never really understood the point of it then. They all looked like squiggly lines to me. No, wait! Or was it my handwriting? Ah, I forget!).

Third standard: I was an extremely hyperactive kid, and used to bang some part of my body (my knees, most of all) up every single day. So much so that my aunt referred to my knee as PWD road (I’d like to refrain from commenting on the work ethic of PWD engineers as ma is going to read this at some point of time and shall surely be bashing me up, even for this harmless allusion). I had banged my left knee in around two places and my right knee in around 6. Dabbing warm potassium permanganate solution on both of them was an everyday routine. My aunt, who visited us every day, took up that task (yes, the very aunt who christened my knee). At this juncture, I had cut down on my activities because my dad wrapped my knee in thick gauze every morning to prevent further injury (and hence further frolicking about). Well, it finally healed (to an extent) and I was gauze free. I was happily running around in the playground when this guy J jumps off a bloody tree and lands on my knee. I yelled at him and went back to class trailing blood all down my leg. I went home and told everyone that a guy had jumped off a tree, directly onto my knee. I seriously doubt they bought that explanation. I don’t quite remember now. I do know that I was more careful after that (well, except for a teeny accident that involved my left leg being skin-free from knee to ankle).

We started Hindi in the third. One fine day, my Hindi teacher called up my parents and told them that I’d be flunking miserably in her subject if I was to continue being the way I was. My aunt (not the PWD-road-wali but her sister) decided to take charge of my Hindi lessons. She used to come home every evening and ~~teach me~~ ~~try to teach me~~ try to distract me from the shiny and/or flying object that had transfixed my gaze upon it at that particular ~~nano~~ picosecond. We had this book that had pictures and the Hindi word for the object in the picture written below it. In bloody Hindi!!! Clever kid that I was, I shouted out randomly chosen Hindi words that I had heard in class. I got randomly pinched for that as well. I guess I finally got the hang of it, because I didn’t flunk even a single Hindi paper. Thanks auntie!

Mid-term time! It was an English test. I was already staring out the window longingly as the question papers were being distributed. (At this point, I’d like to point out that we had only ever written two essays…I believe the topics were ‘Myself’ and ‘My Pet’). I wrenched my head away from the general direction of the window and wrote the essay. After the exam, I thought I had done pretty well. Then we got the answer papers back. It seems I hadn’t done nearly as well as I expected. The teacher had royally cheated (I didn’t know the existence of the word ‘screwed’ at that point) me there I thought…until I got back home anyway. Ma took one look at my essay and burst out laughing. I snatched the paper away from her (appalled at her reaction to my painstakingly written essay) and read it. I had written the title pretty neatly. ‘My Cow’ it said.

Me: I have a cow. His name is (I don’t remember). I take him out for a walk every evening…

And it went on, with the exact same words of the essay ‘my pet’.

Me: What’s so funny?

Ma: Read the question!

Me: Write an essay, in not more than 100 words, on ‘The Cow’

Ma: …

Me: @#$&!!!

Ma: *snicker!*

Me (blushing): The cow, my cow, what’s the difference? For all she knows, I could be an actual kid with an actual cow, and I’d treat him exactly like that!

Ma: Honey, a cow’s female.

Me: @#$&!!!

Moving on to less embarrassing memories…we had a really *good* teacher in the third, have I mentioned that? Not our Hindi Miss, but our class teacher. Let’s call her Mrs. S! Extremely austere looking, and with a boy-cut…yea, that about describes her. She was nice…and by nice, I mean the nice Harry Potter means when he says ‘She’s nearly as nice as your mum’ in a letter to Sirius. Yep, that particularly virulent strain of nice! A lot of us had this fad of spouting our extensive Hindi knowledge, which pretty much extended to ‘tumhaara naam kya hain?’ and ‘mera naam (insert name here) hain.’ Every time she heard someone ‘flaunt’ their Hindi, she’d walk up to them and let loose a tirade, in flawless Hindi, starting with a 120 decibel ‘tujhko Hindi maloom hain?’ and it all went downhill after that.

Professors in college sometimes throw chalk pieces to attract the students’ attention. Thankfully, she didn’t throw too many of those at us. She preferred to chuck wooden scales. There was this one instance when some poor ~~bas~~ soul sitting on the bench behind mine got hit with one. We were all shaking our heads and expressing our deepest sympathy, when she called out “sorry, that one was meant for ganesh!”

Thomas' Tag

2008-04-03T15:16:00.002+05:30

awrightey, this is a response to thomas' tag. here goes nothing...

1. LAST MOVIE YOU SAW IN A THEATRE
10,000 BC. i'm already in a bad mood so i think i'll play it safe and not comment on it

2. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING?
The Great Indian Novel by Shashi Tharoor

3. FAVORITE BOARD GAME
Monopoly, prolly

4. FAVORITE MAGAZINE
Bobanum Moliyum

5. FAVORITE SMELLS
Roasting chicken, ice cream, potato chips

6. FAVORITE SOUND
Right now, nothing

7. WORST FEELING IN THE WORLD
Its subjective

8. WHAT'S THE FIRST THING YOU THINK OF WHEN YOU WAKE UP?
The word 'fuck'

9. FAVORITE FAST FOOD PLACE
KFC, even tho i've only been there once

10. FUTURE CHILD'S NAME
I don't like to get ahead of myself. First let me find someone insane enough to fall for me

11. FINISH THIS STATEMENT "IF I HAD A LOT OF MONEY I'D..."
I'd get myself a really good motorbike...a car too if i get a licence by then

12. DO YOU DRIVE FAST?
How fucking fast can you go on a fucking Kinetic Honda?

13. DO YOU SLEEP WITH A STUFFED ANIMAL?
No! I'm not that desperate

14. STORMS - COOL OR SCARY
The minuscule ones i've been in, pretty cool...i think i'd be scared if a really big one came along

15. WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CAR?
A yellow pickup...a toy one, obviously!

16. FAVORITE DRINK
Pepsi

17. FINISH THIS STATEMENT "IF I HAD THE TIME I WOULD..."
I have time, and i'm not doing anything much. i doubt things would change that

18. DO YOU EAT THE STEMS ON BROCCOLI?
I've never eaten broccoli

19. IF YOU COULD DYE YOUR HAIR ANY COLOUR, WHAT WOULD BE YOUR CHOICE?
I'd streak it with red

20. NAME ALL THE CITIES/TOWNS YOU'VE LIVED IN
Coimbatore, Mumbai, Trivandrum

21. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH
Soccer, NBA, Formula 1

22. ONE NICE THING ABOUT THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU
He can write!

23. WHAT'S UNDER YOUR BED?
A football, dust, cobwebs, a coupla dead cockroaches

24. WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE BORN AS YOURSELF AGAIN?
No

25. MORNING PERSON OR NIGHT OWL?
I have these periods when i can't sleep...even otherwise, i guess i'm nocturnal

26. OVER EASY OR SUNNY SIDE UP
Over easy

27. FAVORITE PLACE TO RELAX
My room

28. FAVORITE PIE
Haven't had pie so far

29. FAVORITE ICE CREAM FLAVOR
Chocolate, butterscotch and pista...can't choose between the three

30. OF ALL THE PEOPLE YOU TAGGED THIS TO, WHO'S MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND FIRST?
I'm supposed to fucking tag people now?

Ok, i tag Hektor, Gow and Sharan

Stuff that happened at Ragam ‘08

2008-03-30T22:09:00.006+05:30

We left Trivandrum on the evening of the 26^th. Boarded the train, everything was looking hunky dory. Sri-Sri couldn’t make it because he had a basketball match the next day. The six of us - Charakku, Guru, Theppan, Dash mon, TyKuPe and me - went in and hogged a row of seats. We didn’t plan on sleeping that night. As usual, it turned into a football match, if you know what I mean. If you don’t, we spent a lot of time on ye olde pee-jays. To be more accurate, we were making fun of each other. There’s a lot of history involved in the football match story. When someone gets made fun of, it’s referred to as a goal in their goalpost. Get the picture? Good! I would be wasting time, trying to translate our dialogue into English. I don’t usually lapse into Malayalam when writing, but this is just one of those times it can’t be avoided.

Theppan: Aliya, kuppi onnum eduthille?

Guru: Edukkan patteella…veettil pokki. Achan baginakathu kuppi onnum illallo ennu chodichu. Appol njaan melil chennu kuppi eduthu flush tank-inakathu vachittu bag-um eduthu vannu.

Dash mon: Akathevide? Mukalilo thaazheyo?

Theppan: Thaazheyaanenkil flush cheyyumbol ellam pokille?

Dash mon: Pinne ninte parambil kure peruchaazhikal paambayirikkunnathu kaanam.

Me: Appol peruchaazhiye pidikkan varunna paambo?

Guru: Paambu vazhiyiloode nadakkumbol peruchaazhi paambaayi kidakkunnu. Paambu kili!

Believe me, that was only the start of it all. We did have to go to sleep that night though. Apparently there were other people in the train for whom the lights being on at 1 am would be a problem. So, sadly, we had to switch off the lights and get into our bunks. The football match continued till at least 2 though. It ended with the ultimate goal by Theppan…a Carlos-esque free kick around the wall, shall we say? TyKuPe and Charakku conceded at the same time. TyKuPe got a kick in. Charaks though, was too busy with his pod to hear anything. It went like this…

Theppan: Charakku enthey?

Dash Mon: Avan thirinju kidakkuva

Theppan: Ohho, chumma alla, nokkedey TyKuPe-ykku kambi!

I woke up at around 6 the next morning (don’t quite remember what the others were doing by then). The next football match started almost immediately. We reached NITC at last, got registered, got our rooms, went out and had some frightfully expensive food. The rest of the day was kinda a blur. Except for the Western Orchestra prelims, that is. Wannabe rockers with hair dangling halfway down their backs annihilated classic songs. There was the dance contest at the end of the evening. That was pretty darn cool. Well, some of it was anyways. NITC’s dance was mind-boggling. I know of only one dance that was more mind-boggling than that. I guess everyone that matters knows what I’m talking about here. Since it was quite boring and we had nothing to do, Guru went out and got some alcohol, 750 ml of scotch whiskey to be precise. Charaks was a teetotaler (hell the guy’s so fucking obsessed he doesn’t let anyone who’s drunk or who has the vaguest smell of cigarette smoke, anywhere near him) and he went and sat in the other room. In our room, the 5 of us plus a friend of ours (lets just call him deep throat, shall we?) got together and got vaguely drunk. Well, drunk to the point of vagueness I guess. Na, I’m just kidding, none of us got that drunk. 750 ml of alcohol, 2 litres of 7up, you do the math! There were 3 of us smokers (deep throat, Guru and myself). We kinda drank and smoked and made merry – TyKuPe had his very first sip of whiskey (he had around 3 in all I think) and even smoked his first cigarette…all the way to the butt! Well, the whiskey got over pretty quick. I think I overdid it with the smoking. Got a wee bit carried away, shall we say? Then there was some pretty unpleasant stuff. It isn’t particularly pleasant when you’ve smoked way too much. You start gagging. I don’t think I need to elaborate here. Met Cain in the middle of it all too. He saw all too clearly the condition all of us were in :|

Well, after that we toured the campus up until around 2 am. Saw the entire bloody area, we were singing, walking…Guru, Dash mon, TyKuPe and myself were walking around collectively for most of the time. I was feeling a bit woozy so they stabilized me. After a bit of walking around, we reached a stretch of lawn, in the middle of which there was a staircase…well it was no ordinary staircase. It had a coupla flights of stairs going up, and it ended in the air. There wasn’t any building anywhere fucking nearby. TyKuPe says ‘ethu myiredey ee padi ivide ketti vache?’

On the whole, we had lotsa fun. Dash mon kept rendering and re-rendering the song ‘ponmagal vandhal’. You ask him a question, he’d think for a minute and then go ‘ponmagal vandhal, porul koodi thandhal’ I think that night was the best part of the entire program lol. Then we reached the hostel and went to bed. I was up for a while, and then finally got to sleep. I think I got around 4 hours of it; woke up feeling like someone had fired a gun against my ear. I had drifted off thinking ‘Wow, I wonder what my first hangover is going to feel like. Am I drunk enough to even have one though?’ Sadly, there was no hangover. As it turns out, I drank nowhere near enough to have a hangover. I still recollect everything that happened, vividly. At least that night’s antics led me to a good place. I’m never smoking again, and I’m never ever getting drunk out of my senses. Let’s get on with the second day then…

It started with Sri-Sri’s arrival, early in the morning. No sooner had he arrived than he took out a cigarette and puffed away to glory (it smelled absolutely icky!!!). Typical Sri-Sri! In fact, his name originates from this very behaviour of his. Charaks was the one who christened him thus. Gow and I had a prelim to attend at 11.30. Well, actually, Charaks and I had a prelim to attend at 11.00 but he was too busy at the canteen and showed up around 20 minutes late so we didn’t bother with the quiz prelims. Gow and I went straight to the prelims of something called ‘What’s the good word’. It was a vocabulary based thing and I had decided earlier that I was going to tag along with her (I’d figured, if anyone had a chance to win it would be whoever was on her team :) smart eh?). The prelims went off pretty well. I did mess up on the clues I was supposed to be giving her (completely misunderstood our strategy) but managed to guess every word I was supposed to. The questionnaire was kinda good as well. We managed to get everything except around one and a half questions. But guess what?!? We didn’t fucking make it through. At the end of it all, the results sheet showed that all six teams that had made it to the finals were from NITC. This made the entire day seem a whole lot worse; worse than I felt when I heard one of them wannabe rock bands play ‘Hallowed be thy name’ (I could’ve wept when that was going on, I swear!). There was a concert by Karthik in the evening. Guru didn’t attend because he wasn’t in the mood for it. I didn’t attend because pop really wasn’t my keg of beer (Oh, I’m already imagining a host of alcohol-related metaphors!). I slept till the rest of them got back. I think I ate something in between but I can’t entirely be sure. They got back; I opened the door, and slept again. TyKuPe drifted off as well. When I woke up, Charaks was sleeping too; deep throat was in the room; Sri-Sri was watching porno off a laptop; a few of the others were talking and taking intermittent peeks at the laptop. Then I guess we all went to sleep. Sri-Sri and I had to share a mat. Its no small thing, he’s a pretty huge guy.

Saturday came along too quickly for my liking. I woke up at around 6.30 – why the fuck doesn’t this happen when I have college?!? It’s always the same fucking story then, I wake up at around 7, go back to sleep because I’m too fucking sleepy and tired, and ultimately get irritated because the alarm goes off every five minutes because it gets set to ‘snooze’. I got a call from a friend (I am not mentioning her name as I doubt she’d want her name to be associated with this) who wanted my help with the debate. Sri-Sri was her teammate. So I ambled along to where they were sitting and we started putting together something for their respective speeches. It was slow going. The topic was just plain dumb! Something along the lines of ‘Sacrificing the people’s political rights to promote economic growth’ or some such rot. I could see they were desperate…people usually are desperate when they turn to ME of all people, to help them. So we sat together and wrote something. She really didn’t need any of my help, neither did he, but I sat down there just the same, occasionally voicing my opinions. Had breakfast after that and was walking about all day. Sunday was the most boring day of them all because nothing was fucking happening. Guru, Dash mon and I gave our articles at the Program Counter. There was a creative writing contest and a love letter writing contest. I tried my luck at both. In the creative writing thingy, we had to write a story connecting three pictures. They were an elephant, an I-pod, and an ancient manuscript. In typical fashion, I came up with a story about Elephant People invading earth with giant I-pods that played ‘60s music non-stop to drive the people insane, and a superhero named Ancient Parchment Man who sacrificed his life to save the planet. The whole of the last page was filled with ‘fuck’, ‘fucking’, et al. There was also a sonofabitch slipped in somewhere in between. Astonishingly (sarcastic note here), I didn’t win the contest. You have to admit it was creative!

Well, at the end of it all, there was unbearable pain. We were to miss the White Noise concert and the fashion show. Screw the fucking fashion show. WE MISSED WHITE NOISE! WAAAAAAAH! Fuck! That was one thing I was totally looking forward to. We left the campus by around 8.15. Got taken to the railway station where we found out that our fucking train was going to be fucking late! We went out, had dinner. Sri-Sri, Guru and a mutual friend (let’s just call him Jay) went to have a beer. I was in a crap mood, so I said no, though I wish I hadn’t, later on. TyKuPe, Charaks and I went and had dinner (a scintillating combination of chapattis and fish curry), got back to the station and got into the train. We played a little bit of football on the way, so that made me feel a lot better. The train finally got there, around 20 minutes after we got back from dinner. We got in, got our seats, and went off to sleep almost immediately. Woke up at 5 am this time, and rolled around on my bunk till about 7. A few practice goals later, we were at Trivandrum. I walked back home, and that was it…man its good to be back!

i wonder...

2008-03-14T19:29:00.000+05:30

Have you ever thought of what the world would be like if you weren’t there? Na, no suicidal propaganda bullshit, I mean if you’d never been born. I kinda find myself wondering what that would’ve been like…a lot! I guess I’ve always wondered about that. Then again, I’d have to be here in some form for me to observe what the world would’ve been like. To put it logically, maybe I could’ve been born in some other dimension or parallel universe and I made a trip over here to see what everything was like. But that isn’t all that logical is it? If I wasn’t ever born here, then how would I know I was looking at a world, on which I was wondering ‘what would this world be like if I had never been here?’ Maybe I’d have to think like…well, me, and try to figure out what that world would be like if I had been born over there. That way, I guess, I’d know both sides of the equation. Fair enough!

Well, what would the world be like if I wasn’t ever here? I know it’d still exist. At least, I’m not aware of any direct link between my life and the existence of the earth. I haven’t made even a semblance of a noteworthy impact on anyone around here. At least, I don’t think I have. Actually, I’m pretty damn sure I haven’t. So now I’m thinking…where the fuck did this question even come from? Maybe it’s from the fact that I want to leave an impact on someone. Maybe this is a desperate plea for help. Yea right! Fuck that, this is probably from the fact that I’m more self-centered and/or narcissistic than I think I am. Yay! This answers everything…

Fuck!

deep shit

2008-03-08T20:19:00.007+05:30

wow, i think i've broken my old record. smashed it even. i haven't fucking slept since tuesday morning. that's since approximately 109 hours and 30 minutes before i wrote this fucking sentence. apparently, my grammar has fallen asleep because nothing else fucking has. four fucking nights of lying on my bed, staring at the fucking ceiling - no, wait, not staring, because i was too fucking tired to even open my eyes. basically, i was just fucking lying there with my eyes closed, contorting my body from one fucking position to the other, hoping in vain that one of them would get me to sleep or at least be so fucking uncomfortable as to make me open my fucking eyes. but no. so i indulged in my favourite pastime...thinking

some stuff i found out

1. i used to be happy, making people around me laugh. very few people now

2. i wasn't a misanthrope. i am now

3. i found it difficult to trust people. i find it unbearably painful to trust people

4. i cared what people thought of me. now i don't give a fuck

5. i used to talk about my problems. that's the last fucking thing on my mind now

6. i used to open up to strangers wen nobody else was around. now, strangers = blog, occasionally

7. i liked reading. i still like reading

8. i didn't think i'd ever consume alcohol. i'm a social drinker

9. i didn't think i'd ever smoke. i smoke when i drink

10. i didn't like using the word 'fuck'. fuck that thought!

11. i used to believe in 'love'. i still do, when i'm not the one being considered

12. i used to believe in god. i laugh at the concept

13. i would've put up everything that popped up into my head. self explanatory

i know 3 and 6 are paradoxical. i hopefully, you get the picture. hm, i think my brain got fried quite a while back. i'm going to post this anyhow

eventually....

2008-03-06T19:19:00.003+05:30

Untitled

The shot woke him up, as usual. She slept on, oblivious. He pulled the sheet off him…the stench of sweat and the slickness of his orgasm sickened him. Insides writhing, he stumbled to the bathroom, knelt in front of his toilet seat and puked - nothing came, as usual – till the inside of his throat bled with the strain. Stifling a gag, he got up and swore – swore at himself, at her, and at every fucking thing he could think of at that point. The tap squeaked open; the cold water felt good on his face. He looked at the guy staring at him from the mirror. The gaunt, wasted features, the nail marks, the pools of black around his eyes, the thoughts stunned him into the merest semblance of sentience. He spat out the rest of the blood and walked back into the bedroom. Then he blacked out…

It’s so fucking dark…every fucking muscle in my body screaming fucking murder…shit, what have I stuck my prick into this time? Fucking asshole bartender let me drink too much again…Jesus! I need a light fucking bad. Why? Where the fuck did it all turn to this? I should never have been fucking born…ah fuck it! I need to fucking get high. Here we go…

He lit up and lay back in his chair, way back, trying to sink into it, into oblivion. Fuck, now he needed a drink… three fucking a.m. and he needed a fucking drink…vodka! Christ, what he really needed was her…but that wasn’t going to fucking happen now was it? He couldn’t help thinking about her though. He always did. There was just something about her, about everything she said and did and thought…she liked vodka as well, and they both liked what happened after the vodka; her calling out his name because that was the only thing she could think of, the way she moaned when he entered her, the way her lips and her body arched in a rictus of pain and pleasure as they were both on the verge, her smell, her taste, every inch of skin on her body, the way they drank and smoked afterwards, exhausted, the way she put out her cigarette on his chest, leant close to him and whispered in his ear ‘now fuck me!’ the way they made love after that, the way he just sat and watched her every morning before she woke up and the way they made love again and again and again when she did…

Fuck, it was killing him. Why the fuck did she have to leave? Just leave him alone and go away, without giving him a reason…it was nearing their anniversary. He knew something was wrong because she wouldn’t let him kiss her. But after all that had happened, he didn’t think she’d do what she did. He asked her to stay the night simply because he wouldn’t live through it otherwise. He was angry and scared and sad and alone, and he wanted her so fucking badly. She wouldn’t let him touch her…and he couldn’t even cry himself to sleep. So he’d just gone ahead.

He’d sat down in the chair, the very chair he was sitting down now, lit up and watched her, he watched her all night. He was still watching her as the rays of the sun came in through the window and fell on her cold, dead body. Her eyes were closed as if in sleep, as if there was no ragged hole in the back of her head, no bullet that was still in there somewhere, no blood soaking the sheets and dripping onto the floor. She looked so fucking beautiful. He smiled because she lay where she deserved…on a bed of roses, red as blood.

He had smiled then as he wept now, his face buried in his hands, his body twitching with the sobs that he was trying so desperately to suppress, shaken to stillness by one last, shuddering sigh. He got up. The gun was in the top drawer, where he had left it…it still had her dried blood on it. He kissed it tenderly and pulled the trigger. Her eyes opened for a second, an expression of mild surprise on her face, and then it was all over. He took a wad of cash out of his wallet and laid it on her body.

She’s down there, waiting for me…so far away, and she’s going to go. No, I can’t let her. There’s some fuckstick banging away at the door. What’s his problem so fucking early in the morning? Fuck him, he can wait. I need to get to her now. O baby, wait, I’m coming…please wait. And so I step out of the window, arms stretched out. I’m going to be in her arms any minute now. Fuck, I love her…I love her so much

eau de boredom

2008-02-28T20:26:00.001+05:30

i saw a lizard poop today...ew!

(this post is dedicated to cain)

My first movie review…wheeee!

2008-02-23T19:54:00.004+05:30

For a movie that was intended to be titled ‘A Collection Of The World’s Worst Porn Movie Foreplay Dialogues And Some Cheaply And/Or Horrendously Recreated Historical Shit’ (well, it should’ve been titled that anyhow), Jodhaa Akbar was remarkably true to its name (the intended one). Though the actual name isn’t nearly as long as the real one, the actual movie is every bit as long (and superlatively longer) than a REAL MOVIE. There were some cool evil looking bearded and/or bald dudes though, I thought that was pretty wack. But more about that later…

The movie started with a war. Teeny weeny (the dictionary is prompting me to use weenie here, roflmao imagine that, WEENIE!!!) lil Jalal-ud-din Mohammed (that was Akbar’s real name - one of the very few things I actually learned from this movie) led his army (who had gay armor) to an outstanding victory. Actually, he was too teeny weeny (weenie, he he) to do anything but sit on a mountaintop and watch a bearded bald dude (Bairam Khan or whoever…really evil looking though, except for the gay armor) lead his army (GAY ARMOR!!!) to victory. Up until the elephant cavalry (GAILY armored people on top of elephants) arrived anyhow. Well, then I guess the elephant cavalry arrived and started squashing people to a pulp (fyi, being stomped by an elephant, even though it causes you to throw up copious amounts of blood, doesn’t even leave a dent in your gay-looking breastplate! Hm, it must be a gay thing). To cut a long story short, enemy king (At least i think he was the king. He had the most GAY helmet of them all) gets shot through the eye with an arrow and the entire fucking army loses the war in an instant – and the bloody elephant cavalry seemed to have flown away somewhere, coz they sure as hell weren’t anywhere near the battlefield after the war got over.

A few wars, a lot of GAY armor and a lot of cool evil looking bearded guys later, Weenie, er…Akbar gets married to a feisty Rajput princess (grrrrrrrrrowrrrrrr!). The dual wedding ceremony was followed by a bunch of gay singing twirly dancers with what looked like giant clay condoms on their heads. Weenie joins in with a gay twirly dance of his own. After this er…breathtaking performance, we move into the bedroom where Jodhaa flinches at Weenie’s very touch (I’m just speculating here, but I think that was because of the whole dance thingy). The lamest bunch of bedroom dialogues follow, which would make even the most pathetic porn dialogue writer want to kill himself by gagging to death on his worthless scripts and self-extricated testicles.

Well, stuff pretty much went on in infinite-loop-mode for the most part of three and a half hours. If it didn’t, the transition was too boring to be noticeable. More bedroom dialogues, scheming old crone, bloodlust-consumed brother, et al. followed. O yea, then they finally did it. After one of them ‘cold-shoulders’ nights and a prolonged sword fight, she finally moved in with him. They proceeded to do something which kinda felt like the mating ritual of the three-toed-sloth. Thankfully, it didn’t have any dialogues. Unfortunately, it didn't have much other than that either...

Then there was the final battle…Weenie against his evil brother-in-law. After getting some lifesaving advice from his wife’s ex, Weenie challenged bro to a duel. The moron sitting next to me had the sheer nerve of comparing it with Hektor’s fight against Achilles. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to watch Troy or read David Gemmell’s trilogy again.

On the whole, the story was crap, the dialogues were crap and/or indecipherable for the most part, the armor was gay, Akbar's mustache was gay, and the animations were about as realistic as Pam’s boobs are natural. One good thing for people who’re looking to save money on picture postcards, you could probably come and sit in a theatre, watch this movie and get a good 15 to 20 photos, replete with the name of the place, that would be perfect for some postcards, all for just 35 bucks. If not, I’d recommend that you rent out a 20cm x 20cm area of concrete wall for three and a half hours (I think you could manage that for 35 bucks pretty easily) and bang your head against it repeatedly. Take a small er…intermission around an hour and forty five minutes in and go get yourself from popcorn. The overall effect will pretty much be the same.

the survey

2008-02-22T18:22:00.006+05:30

surveys used to be tedious and informative...um...thingies. not any more...at least not for the moment (to me, not ever i guess :D) i embarked on this noble and um...non-informative er...venture! i don't think i've had to think that much to cover up something as extremely pointless as this since my ssd exam, way back in s3. well, the idea (which we'll come to shortly...or not so shortly, depending on how much shit i can write between here and there) struck my brain wen it was gathering cobwebs during a fucking 14-hour wait on one day followed by a fucking 12 hour wait on the next (i think most ppl can guess wat it was)

to put it mildly, the question was 'which hand do you wank with?' and here are the much awaited results

amazingly, of the many people i er...surveyed in this past week, only 3 people were too embarassed to give an honest answer. i thought that was pretty fucking cool...

LEFTIES ROCK!!!

over and out!

finally...

2008-01-24T20:51:00.000+05:30

o0o exams got over...yesterday in fact. at least i think it was yesterday. o who cares now?!? they're over anyhow. i am no longer on hiatus (is that weeping i hear? wow, this inspires me to an all new level!). so where were we? o yea, that's right, nowhere! well, we kinda went over to kovalam after dsd got over (again!) and we had a blast. vish n i were lyin down in the sand, in d shade of this big boat thingy. hemanth and govind were prancing about in the water. sachin was sitting down somewhere. petts n jacob showed up in a lil while. we had fun. hektor couldn't make it, because he had to go n watch the fucking federer=blake match. is there any fucking point in watching a federer match these days? (except the one wit tipsarevic tho, that was one helluva match).

this past week, i've heard something that really struck me as funny (obviously, its quite explicit). its not funny either. i'm not censoring this!!!

this guy from russia had an accident and lost his penis. the bloody brilliant doctor replaced it wit his finger. i just had to make up one liners outta this...

jay said "now he can zip his fly from the inside"

i was thinking more along the lines of

"its going to be rather difficult to give people the finger"

"the poor poor fingerprint identification system"

"he can sure save a lotta money using a thimble instead of getting condoms"

for those who actually read that, i apologise...no, fuck that! i don't

n to the person in question...i didn't mean to offend you, i'm just a very sick person who should be shot in public.

ad nauseam

2008-01-17T18:26:00.000+05:30

ah, here i am again...i don't know why or how, exactly, but i'm here anyhow. why do i ask myself why or how you ask? well, i have this teeny weeny little bump in my path (actually its more like an infinitely large, positively charged, malodorous carcass with a capacitance of 0.02E-27 pF). now where the fuck did that come from? well, its called applied electromagnetic theory and i have a paltry one and a half modules left to go through (out of three, that is). naturally, i'm taking a break till 8 o clock at least (house is on at 7...don't wanna miss that now) couldn't study anything yesterday because the doctor's recommended course of treatment for my leg involved strips containing salicylic acid that literally dissolved the clot. it sounds painful, doesn't it? actually, it isn't painful. the word 'pain' isn't something you'd use to describe the feeling of your skin slowly being burnt away with a cigarette lighter or a bunsen burner or whatever the fuck you can think of. o well, i'm going to play heroes for a while before house starts. cya!

o joyous day!

2008-01-15T20:27:00.000+05:30

for the umpteenth time, things are coming along splendidly. yea, you're fuckin right you detect more than just a wee hint of sarcasm. i don't remember wen my last post was, but i'm sure it was before the last three exams we just went through. let me put it briefly then, industrial management taught me a lot about time management...i had to manage all the free time i had because i didn't fuckin know what to write. but i did, anyways. don't ask me what though, all i know is i exercised most of the big fat words i have memorised over the years. hopefully they'll be enough to fetch me marks (note that i didn't say good marks here...subtle, but it makes a MAJOR point). then came lic. its a subject most of us actually like, because there isn't a great deal to study. at least not the way they explain it in the syllabus. i don't think i should say anything more about that. my brain seems to have evacuated that part of the temporal lobe those particular memories were residing in. i think its all for the best too.

then there was today...i honestly can't say much about the paper. i don't think i did too much wrong (well i didn't know a few of the questions, other than that i mean) because some of them were asking for my - our - opinion about stuff and i gave it. they can't find fault with my opinion can they? even if they can, they shouldn't be able to jeopardise the marks i get, right? i mean it is my fuckin opinion. it was computer organisation today, by the way. another subject i like, another question paper i didn't.

well i got home after all that crap and had to go to the doctor to show my foot (there's this screwed up thingy at the bottom of it that's been buggin me for ages). when she told me 'its a haematoma', i was thinkin 'wow, that's so cool! a haematoma even. whoopee i have a haematoma. now all i have to do is get home and fuckin read up on what a fuckin haematoma is. sure does sound cool tho. o0o i wonder if its something largely hugely enormous'

*an hour later*

A FUCKING BLOOD CLOT?!? i had to fucking go to a fucking doctor to fucking find out that i have a fucking blood clot on the underside of my fucking foot? any fucking nitwit with half a fucking brain cell could've figured out it was a fucking blood clot...HELLO, it was fucking black in colour, under all the layers of fucking skin...gah fuck it, this just isn't my day, or week, or month, or year. fuck i wish i'd fucking turn 20 soon. 19 just hasn't been a good year for me, not by a long shot.

after that i was thinkin about stuff to stop me from thinking about stuff that pissed me off, so i headed the wrong way on a one way street and started thinkin about the exams we have left. applied electromagnetic theory in particular. i've come up with a pretty vague but pretty darn convincing theory. they've been screwing us up the arse for this long and we haven't yet taken the paper that's usually the fucking toughest. since they've put up such *censored* papers for all the fuckin *easy* subjects, i think they'll have figured out we'd stop bothering to study for aet. then they could surprise us with such a fuckin easy paper, with a catch...ah, yes, the catch! its only fuckin easy if you bothered to study. at the end of all that, i guess, we'd all be left feeling like we've been sodomised by a giant sequoia.

let's see what's going to happen...

couldn't help it :)

2008-01-04T12:43:00.000+05:30

ye gads! it seems even hektor is blogging more than me right now...which got me thinking 'man, i wonder why i decided to bloody stop using the comp till exams got over...its not as though i'm bloody studyin anything...' so yea, exams HAVE started, and amazingly, i'm taking them even less seriously (pseudo-seriously, rather) than last time around...which i didn't think could happen. but things have a way of turning out now, don't they?

yesterday's exam was pretty easy tho...or so i thought. until i got out of the exam hall. i seem to have this uncanny knack of screwing things up in math, something which was dormant for a while, but it seems to have woken up with a vengeance. well, actually, it was screaming bloody murder yesterday. i'll have a pretty good score at the end of it, but pretty good ain't nearly good enough in math, especially not for a paper as stupid as the one we had yesterday. drat! there go my chances of snagging a good percentage this sem (math has rescued me every time since college started).

we did have fun after the exam tho. anand, petts, gov, jacob, nikhil n i headed out to kovalam (4 biker guys n the 2 of us). i was sitting behind anand. he clocked 110 ks per hour, as he's no doubt bragging on his blog (and in my defence, i'm skinny, but i'm not bloody light enough to fly off!!!). all we did was walk around in the bloody sun, but it was kinda good. compensated for the exam anyhow. gah, now we got an industrial engineering and management paper on monday. heh, it kinda reminds me of the first series paper. hemanth brought some smirnoff to college and the both of us ended up goin to the bathroom and sharing it :D:D:D i ended up getting an 80. that was a barrel of laughs. i don't think anyone is gonna bring any vodka to college on monday, so i think its pretty safe to say 'i'm bloody screwed!'

wow, look at the time! i think i had better go start preparing myself to start studying, or i won't study all day. i think dad's teaching me the accounting bit today.

peace!

anabiosis

2007-12-24T11:01:00.000+05:30

that's what i'm goin to be in, i guess...surprising things have been happening, so i think i'll do something which will come as a complete surprise to myself. firstly, i have total strangers coming n telling me they liked marty and i have no fucking clue how they found out. n its not an entirely comfortable feeling. especially when someone comes and says 'keep up the good work'. that was pretty much a once in a lifetime burst of inspiration and it came at a time where i was seriously contemplating whether i should actually think about writing a book in the distant future, when i'd hopefully amass a passable vocabulary. well, that doesn't seem like an option any more, because a whole lot of stuff has kinda leeched all the creative shit outta me. n i'm stuck bein like this i guess. well, not that i'd've been good at it or anything, but its always nice to have a dream isn't it?

second surprising thing...i was rummaging through the freezer in a quest to un-ice some chocolate when i stumbled across a bar of soap. weird! i still have no idea how it got there. ma just gave me a sheepish smile when i bounced it off her (not literally you n00b!)

since things have been so surprising, i've decided to stop using the comp after today, until the exams get over. lets hope that at least this time around, i'll get a decent fucking percentage. its been downhill all the way from s3 and, well, it doesn't hurt to try now i guess...cya

hm...

2007-12-20T19:20:00.000+05:30

wow, day 3 of manic depression and things just seem to get worse. this must be my lucky week. dang, i should've never woken up on sunday. sometimes i get the feeling i'm frigging bipolar. good things do happen though. dad gave me the key to the kinetic today, so that was pretty nice. was driving around most of the afternoon. went over to bob's place and got his lab record from him. i've gotto go get it certified tomorrow. but before that, i kinda have to draw a couple of diagrams in there to complete it. now i'm thinking 'wow, imagine that! i loathed writing my record and here i am, offering to do it for someone else...' me and my fucking principles! kotor2 got over today as well. so i guess i gotto go hunting for something else to play. gah, there's always heroes of might and magic.

screwed

2007-12-17T23:47:00.000+05:30

i'm not in a very good mood. this is going to get fucking ugly, incoherent and downright rude. so don't fucking read it unless you fucking want to...

It’s the same thing, every fucking day. You go out there with this veneer of humour and sarcasm, refined by years of practice. One fine day, you decide to ask ‘Why? Where the fuck did everything go so wrong?’ and you get to thinking what you meant by that. It’s not as though anyone actually gives a fuck about you, because they basically don’t. At least, that’s what I’ve learned so far. Maybe it’s just me. Well, this is about me I guess…me as in my actual fucked up self which I don’t let anyone see. Sometimes though, you just feel as though you have to. Let someone see I mean. You can’t pin down the reason but it’s just a fucking yearning deep inside you that you can’t get rid of no matter what.

Maybe I actually want someone to be there with me, someone with whom I can be myself. Yea, right! As if that’s ever fucking going to happen! Well, it’s me so I don’t think I have to say anything more. It’s not like it hasn’t ever happened though. It has, but look where the fuck it got me to…and no matter how much you let someone in, they manage to fucking hurt you in the end. Then you start wondering why the fuck you started letting people in and you go back to the same old fucking yearning and wonder why the fuck it’s inherently there. Again, maybe it’s just me…and I think it is. It happened once, no biggie, you think its just some fucking anomaly somewhere that made it happen. Things get all hunky dory again and viola! There comes the sequel! Wow, a fucking sequel to something you wish had never fucking happened!

Eventually, you let it all go and decide ‘no fucking way I’m going through all of that again! Its in the past, I’m over it. Now to get on with my fucking life before I fucking forget I fucking had one.’ But no, it follows you around like a stray puppy desperate for attention. Lets get to the bottom line…I hate it when people decide upon something I’m fucking involved in without me around. That has happened next to never, but still a couple of more times than I’d have ever wanted it to. The news is relayed in the manner of a discussion about the fucking weather. Then it’s as though things had never been any different, and that fucking gets to me. Well duh! I don’t fucking know what the fuck is wrong so how the fuck am I supposed to react? It hurts when you’re there for someone and they’re there for you, and this fucking happens in the middle of all that; it hurts a lot. I’m not fucking exaggerating here. The funny thing is I keep hearing that if you keep everything bottled up inside you long enough, it threatens to come out. That has kinda never happened with me. Anything I want to keep bottled up inside me, I can. But the things I don’t, which are still fucking meant not to get around, do get around, which is, putting it mildly, irksome. Hm, I guess no matter how you are with someone, even if you’re the same with a lot of other people, it somehow fucking matters what others think you are and/or say about you. There’s nothing you can do about it either. Least of all when you have no fucking clue about what was fucking said. But there again, nobody gives enough of a fuck to let you know, ever.

I really appreciate the people who find stuff out about me by bloody asking me. I’ll say it out if it doesn’t involve other people. I don’t have a problem with that at all. Hell, I’ve had people ask me openly if I watch porno, among other things. There are few enough of them out there, and fewer still who’d actually believe you when you are honest about it.

Everything that has happened has actually given me my sense of humour and sarcasm (sarchasm, whatever the fuck fits in here). Now I’m cynical, to the point of nihilism, and I can fucking get along by myself, so I guess I should be fucking grateful if anything. But somehow, I’m not. This is me…and I wouldn’t change me for the world. Who the fuck was I saying this to anyway?

amazing!

2007-12-17T14:07:00.001+05:30

wow, this has to be the best beginning to a week i've ever had before. went to sleep on saturday night, kinda early. turns out, i'd wake up kinda early too, at around 2 am. it felt like someone was ripping up my gut and grinding the pieces together. i spent the next three hours swallowing pills and then throwing them up, spectacularly. you know what, now i just know this week is going to be awesome! sarcasm aside though, i have decided to make the ultimate choice this week...japanese or gothic. this is going to be tough. i'd decided to start studying this week, but this seems to be so much more, erm...what's the word i'm looking for here, lucrative? ah, that'll do. or maybe...na, wait, that's for later. for now, let me go and play kotor2...again...

this seems to happen quite often

2007-12-15T09:30:00.000+05:30

hm, this is weirdly repetitive...have you ever had a pretty damn decent day, so bloody decent that you can finally go to bed and think 'wow, maybe this isn't such a screwed up place after all'. n wen you wake up the next morning, it feels like something (which makes it all not-so-messed-up) is fluttering around you, managing to elude your grasp every single time. this looks like its going to be a long - and boring and pointless - day. i think the only good that's going to come off it is george n i going to see bob. he kinda met wit a little accident yesterday - bent his ankle all the way up to 90 degrees, sideways. o yea, there's another one too. i won't be able to write my record today owing to the fact that i don't have another one to write from :) so i guess i'm going to be neck-deep in shit tomorrow but i don't bloody care right now. since i'm going to be kicking myself up the arse anyhow, i think i'll go ahead and start right now. kotor2, here i come!!!

*influence gained*

sorry, couldn't help that last bit ;)

finally!

2007-12-14T23:59:00.000+05:30

yay, i finally had a pretty decent day! we had a lab exam in the morning. a pseudo-one anyways. it was fun...all of us sitting inside one gigantic hall with a whole bunch of other ppl. well, you know the rest >:) after that, i got to drive hektor's unicorn for a lil. but due to unavoidable circumstances (cain sitting at the back wen the bike was leaning on my right foot. ok, let me explain this more clearly. 56 kilos -> me, somewhere around 150 kilos -> unicorn, somewhere around 95 kilos -> cain. put it all together and we get 'O FUCK, MY LEG!'), the driving lesson was cut short. heh, it was fun tho. finally got to meet namic again, that was pretty cool. then, hektor, gov n i went over to a friend's (hari!) place. gov had to leave, but we were there for a while. finally got a coupla games that won't assrape my antediluvian computer. got home and got kotor2 to work on my fucking ultra-low-end graphics card with pixel-fucking-shader1.4 in my fucking agp8x port. but it worked, so i guess i shouldn't be complaining. hey, the game i was really looking forward to playing turned out to have really shitty reviews, so i guess this'll do for now. ah, well, its been a pretty nice day so far. i'll post this tomorrow so as not to jinx the rest of it. l8r

the theory of nothingness

2007-12-13T19:01:00.000+05:30

wow, this is the best thing i've been able to do in my LIC (Largely Irritating Circuits) lab ever. we had extra lab today because apparently we hadn't finished our circuits yet. i was just sitting there, staring at the breadboard, when, for the first time in millennia, an afflatus hit me. so here it goes...the theory of nothingness. its indisputable fact, so don't get any ideas!

consider the ideal human being (here, the characteristic of an ideal human is that he/she/it is flexible enough to get to a position from which he/she/it can accommodate their cranium up his/her/its posterior. it doesn't get any more ideal than this!). now, consider the circumstance which forms the very basis of their ideality (the head up the arse thingy!). all right, so it goes in, and at some point of time in its journey, it shall travel up the oesophagus and reach the oral cavity and come out of its mouth (nice picture eh?). but here, the entire head is in the oesophagus, so it comes out inside the body itself. then follows an endless chain of emergence and reemergence, which causes the body to constrict, eventually leading to a condition where the body no longer exists. thus, it is possible for a human being to disappear completely (forget the spontaneous combustion shit, this is a much more plausible explanation dontcha think? :D)

of course, gow thinks the idea of a person who starts by swallowing his/her/its feet is better. somehow, i tend to disagree. its too unexplicit for my liking :D:D:D

epilogue: protocol says that this message was meant to be put right up there before the lump of shit you just went through. but we say 'fuck protocol, bring on the laxative!!!'. the pure shit up there was explicit and shouldn't have been read by any people who don't appreciate explicit or borderline-explicit shit. so if you fall into the afore-mentioned category and still read it, i honestly and sincerely say to you, fucking n00bs!

random crap

2007-12-11T16:57:00.000+05:30

on realising that my english has become deplorable insofar as adjectives can't begin to describe its degree of fucked-up-ness, i have decided to embark on a mission to improve it (again!). so i guess this is a start (hopefully!). i'm now going to post regularly (my frequency will be more than one post a month) about random crap or not-so-random crap or pseudo-crap, whichever appears to be more crappy at the time. (i like parantheses!) (so much so that sometimes i use them to spout nonsense, and i know they're supposed to have a point but their sheer pizazz has captivated me so much that even pointlessness seems appealing, like this long, sinuous, absurd and overladen-with-adjectives string of disjointed thoughts n words n shit n well, i guess you get the point of it all) (psych!)

o well, i have a lab exam tomorrow...and i'm supposed to be writing my bloody lab record. a friend of mine (bob!) was home the entire day and to our credit, we did complete quite a bit amidst all the CAD and the pepsi and the game reviews. i think i still have another good hour or four to go before my record will have the merest semblance of being complete, but what the hell, that's the way things are supposed to be aren't they? ack, i'm too bloody bored to go draw any of that shit now...sigh! things seem to get more and more boring by the day, don't they? i was so bored yesterday that i logged on to orkut and spent a good 10-15 minutes updating my profile n shit (i've kinda gotten hooked onto suffixing 'n shit' with sentences n paragraphs n shit).

n i'm at a point where my balance is down to 3 bucks...which is a harrowing experience for me because i usually spend a lot of time messaging a whole lot of ppl (its fun messaging ppl you spend the whole day with...right, hektor?). now i'm stuck with bloody incoming messages i can't reply to. its a cruel cruel world out there...

n shit

chef brian, i salute you...

2007-12-01T16:40:00.000+05:30

Yes, it is peanut butter, no?

For millennia, the search has been infested by the ghastly turnips. Peppermint spray causes the implosion of purple stars in water purifiers. Ah, the devil regurgitates the llama onto the barren plains of unmistakability! Why has chaos run rampant on the lycra undergarments of perdition? Blasphemous are the cupcake people on planets alien to monkey poop, and rebellion is their costume. Malignant and evil, the organic mastodons embark on a journey to vilify the snorkels of the pseudo-merpeople in unknown universes. Parallelism is no longer a sane option. That is fact, insofar as the bullet penetrates the pulpy innards of video game consoles.

Evil colludes with microwaves in a desperate effort to snatch control of our grey matter. The last pocket of resistance lies in acorn fragments; also in detritus that remains after the nuclear explosion in Papua New Guinea. Strange are the ways of the force…the dark side has corrupted the spleens of raucous armadillos. Doomsday is nigh! Beware all ye mortals. Salvation lies in mutant egg-plants. Thus read the chronicles. Answer the ultimate question – what is behind door number 7? The Spartan army flees this wave of subliminal terror waves, modulated to hypersonic frequencies. Look to the kitchen, before it is too late. He will have the answer.

May the sign of the W, A, S and D lead you true…

Reboot!

2007-10-30T16:48:00.000+05:30

foreword: the characters that may/may not appear in the utter crap that follows may/may not be wholly/partially fictitious. any remote/startling/egad-is-that-really-him? resemblance to anyone living and/or dead may/may not be purely coincidental. the extreme extremeness of what follows may result in confusion and/or nausea and/or instant vaporisation of your brain. or maybe an obese guy who's allergic to platypi will sit on you. if you don't have a brain, well, good luck!!! one more thing...by agreeing to read the following material, you are waiving all rights to legal recourse. try suing and i shall set my batallion of rabid clowns on you. MUAHAHAHAHA HAHAHA HAHA HA!!!

so there we were, sitting in class, listening to a seminar on how Arithmetic Logic Units were shaped like underpants. our esteemed colleague, Mr. Lotus was in the process of artfully demonstrating it. beside me, the portly and apogenous Hektor (said to be a reincarnation of the ancient hero) sat impatiently, muttering under his breath. for we had uncovered a plot..."if only that perpetually inebriated imbecile would stop obsessing about underwear-shaped computer components, we could've done something about it!"

Ill Bates (evil laugh!), overlord of the skilfully concealed war machine, Macrohard^TM , was out to take over the world. for this purpose, he had spread a monster, an Unoperative System named Doors Pista® . it was worse than we thought it would be. a memory-sucking hyperbeing, it took over the brains of people, utilizing their craving for fancy interfaces (translation: o0o shiny!). the result was horrifying! people were transmogrified into pixelated warg-monsters who would obey Bates' every command. we were the only three who could stop this. if only that *expletive* would stop his *expletive* obsession with *expletive* undergarments.

several hours, brands and expletives later, we finally set out to save the world...Hektor, Uckilles (Mr. Lotus' alter ego...he's kinda obsessed with the hero so i decided to bestow upon him a homonym of his name), and me as my alter ego, RABID CLOWN MAN!!! (lightning, thunder, et al.)

OK, let's get back to the crap now...we needed to get to bates' place somehow. we couldn't fly ya know! we couldn't even afford those cheap hero suits made from lycra, let alone superpowers! at that precise moment, ultra-radiation from an imploding star permeated Hektor's eerily vacant cranium, resulting in the cosmic being who had taken up residence there saying "let there be light!" (translation: Hektor had an idea). he e-mailed a trojan horse (PUN INTENDED) to the airline computer.

* * *

we arrived at the pixelated behemoth that was Macrohard^TM (after Uck had restocked on alcohol). the outer perimeter was being defended by a giant firewall. literally! pixelated blurs were heaping fuel onto the burning pyre. it was easy enough getting through them. i just yelled out 'coffee break!'. we walked in and right into an ambush. Uck held off the attacking blurs with his infamous drunken stance. meanwhile, we used Photoshop to sharpen them into nonexistence. that got pretty tiresome, so we just rebooted all the security computers.

when we walked in on him, he was discussing his plans for world domination with Igor, his evil rubber ducky. Uck, in his drunken haze, charged in to attack Ill (evil laugh!). but Hektor was geared up for his trademark finishing move...the supergigantic butt-slam. unfortunately, Uck (bless his soul!) was crushed into oblivion along with Igor and Ill (ah! fill it up yourself...) and the entire west wing.

all we had to do next was stop Bates' master computer. we tried everything; throwing it off the terrace, even Hektor's supergigantic butt-slam, but it proved to be indestructible. we sent the entire trojan horse, but it got so confused by the system that it imploded. typically, Doors® rebooted. Hektor was in tears at this point, and started banging my head against the keyboard. suddenly, against all odds, the screen turned blue...

COMMAND NOT RECOGNIZED
Fatal system error. Self-destruct sequence initiated

"*expletive!* let's get outta here man..."

5 seconds remaining...4...3...2..."

"goodbye cruel world!!!"

Then...

15 minutes remaining
12 hours 37 minutes remaining
5 hours 6 minutes remaining
counting error...manual counting required
ABORT/RETRY/FAIL?

"let's just get outta here dude"

so, with the world saved and the threat of Ill Bates dealt with, our heroes lived wackily ever after.

IT IS NOW SAFE TO TURN ON YOUR BRAIN

*BOOP!*

twitch!

2007-07-07T20:13:00.000+05:30

I’ve been watching ‘the departed’ and man! I’ve gained a lot of respect for the word ‘fuck’ - especially when the guy said ‘maybe, maybe not, maybe go fuck yourself.’ I’m beginning to wonder why I ever stopped swearing. Well, why I stopped swearing like I used to anyways :)

O yea…guess what?!? I’ve been dreaming again. Oh, fuck you Barney! (Barney is my imaginary friend by the way. All crazy people seem to have imaginary friends so I decided to follow suit. Or should I stick to talking to myself? Ah what the sodding hell, I’ll figure it out). This is the last dream I’m going to blog about I guess. Otherwise someone or the other is bound to get me committed (with all due respect to any of my relatives who are reading this – you understand, don’t you?)

This time, its morning and I’m in my own house. For some obscure reason, I feel the need to go to parassala. So, like any sane person would do, I call up three people who happen to be going that way and ask them to take me along. One of those happens to be my neighbour. So I get ready and stuff, and then realize the third guy I called up was Barney (see why I came up with him beforehand!!!). So I get out and my neighbour is waiting for me, when I get a phone call from my best buddy Praveen (who is the second guy I called) saying he’ll be at my place in around 15 minutes. So I ask him to come and wait for 15 minutes and then I tell my neighbour about it and he walks away all disgruntled and stuff.

So, anyhow, Praveen and I set out (I love hitching a ride wit Praveen, he’s got a Karizma!) and we’re on our way to parassala and we somehow go via nalanchira (still remember the place the Loyola school bus used to stop) when I get a phone call. So I reach into my pocket and extricate my mob with great difficulty and…VOILA!!! I have a female stalker!!!!!!! I think my brain got confused at that point because I OBVIOUSLY am the LAST candidate for such a…err…situation, shall we say?!? Then I woke up.

Amen to that

weird!

2007-06-25T20:12:00.000+05:30

hm...am i losing it? fuck that, i guess its a hundred percent rhetorical :P its just that i've been having all sorts of weird dreams lately. i don't remember much of em - well doi! i was asleep when they *happened* wasn't i? o0o come to think of it, was i asleep then? ah screw that thought, i'm just confusing myself - again! so where were we? o yea, my dreams! :D well the question up there - though rhetorical - is quite valid i might add. you do get to thinking you might be losing your mind when you dream up stuff like this. i guess i'll elaborate.

there i was, standing in my favourite corner of one of the grounds at loyola, talking to one of my really good friends - i don't remember who, exactly, but it was one of my very good friends. i remember wondering if the little green men had invaded. everything seemed to be greener than usual. so i was walkin along and talking to mr. x and wondering where the hell the indoor stadium had gone off to. i hear a hissing sound and a king cobra - yup, a king cobra, don't ask me how i know, i just do! (HEY, its MY dream!) - is coiled up around a tree and it lunges for me. my reflexes - akin to greased lightning i might add - go into overdrive and i fend off the snake with a giant dinner plate that i apparently had in my hand and didn't even know. that's the only part i remember. o yea, it also chased me around and there were loadsa ppl around who were staring and saying 'king cobra...yikes!' and i was wondering 'why the fuck aren't you nitwits doing anything?!?'

funny how bad stuff doesn't seem to happen to anyone else in your dreams eh? ah, whatever! that last one occurred in the wee hours of today morning. there was another one yesterday. see what i meant by that question now? ok now, lets' get to it then...yesterday...

don't remember this one too clearly. i was with a not-that-close friend of mine on the umpteenth floor of an apartment complex. and there was this really fat dude who was supposed to me my imaginary senior at an imaginary college. suddenly he starts waving and brandishing a pistol and threatening the two of us and falls right through the balcony floor in the middle of his evil laugh. obviously, he dies! my not-so-close friend and i are then accused of murder. the next thing i know, its the morning of the trial and i'm at a book store getting something to read because it might be a long and boring trial. my dad leaves his mobile on the windowsill and i go get it for him. then i wake up...o yea, all this happens in chennai. don't ask me how i know that either...

seriously, weird eh? ah well, dinner time here. my infrequent posts seem to get interrupted by food. o well, the best way to get interrupted i reckon...mebbe i'll get to post about being eaten alive by rabid 3-door refrigerators. i hope they have loadsa ice cream in em. ciao!

p.s. i love exclamation marks!!!

the music tag!

2007-06-09T19:03:00.000+05:30

o0o shil tagged me wit this un...dratted winamp! i guess i'll use foobar for this. winamp resets itself every time i try to enqueue anywhere near 60% of the songs i got over here. shil seems to think that i'm going to come up with the best answers. seeing as how i got the entire freakin collection by dimmu borgir on here, lets just see where this goes, shall we? :D

and now i start to enqueue :| there we go! wonder why winamp can't take this, it ain't even that much.

1. so what do ppl think of me?

fort minor - the battle
These hungry rappers battle for a buck and some change
There really be kids starving
Give a fuck if it change
Shock rap
Not that
You get signed you might blow up

o0o me likey!!!

2. what should my attitude be?

mel c - never be the same again
I thought that we would just be friends
Things will never be the same again
It's just the beginning it's not the end
Things will never be the same again
It's not a secret anymore
Now we've opened up the door
Starting tonight and from now on
We'll never, never be the same again

how the fuck did that song get on here?!?

3. wat am i thinking of right now?

foo fighters – breakout
The more and more I take
I break right through
Therapy still scares me
Putting me on my back again.
I may be crazy, little frayed around the ends
One of these days I'll phase you out
Burn it in the blast off watching me crawl away
Try to get out

heh, good un! a bit out of context, unfortunately. But that's kinda an oxymoron here eh? :D

4. is richard simmons gay? (rhetorical, i know, but still :P)

yanni - the flame within

um, i take that as a yes...

5. what are my chances of getting on the tonight show someday?

bryan adams - don't let go

just d answer i was looking for...

6. do aliens suffer from constipation?

third day - take my life
How many times have I turned away
The number is the same as the sand on the shore
But every time You've taken me back
And now I pray You do it once more

hmmm, interesting...

7. wat's my song?

bryan adams - straight from the heart

i think i got this song on here just for the lyrics...nice...

8. when am i gonna get my first grammy award?

eminem - lose yourself

aw crap! hmm, i'm supposed to be a metal-head...strange so far eh?

9. wat is it wit pirates and eyepatches?

metallica - i disappear

o0o that's good! foobar likes me :)

10. will my plan to take over the world succeed?

black label society - speedball

dang, this thing ain't givin me any proper answers...guess the jury's still out on that one. sigh!

11. whatever happened to the pink flying hippo?

metallica - return of the vampire

noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

12. what's in my head during lectures?

foo fighters - up in arms

bang on!

13. wats my life gonna be like?

metallica - jump in the fire
Down in the depth of my firey home
the summons bell will chime
Tempting you and all the earth
To join our sinful kind
There is a job to be done and I'm the one
You people make me do it
Now it is time for your fate and I won't
Hesitate
To pull you down into this pit

great! just what i needed...

14. am i really from this planet?

aerosmith - kiss your past goodbye

15. wat's 'the meaning of life'?

godsmack - sick of life
Paralyzed.
Nothings getting through to me.
Hypnotized from all my surroundings.
I wanna be something I could never be.
I wanna say things that I could never say.
Yeah, I'm gonna do it again! I'm gonna do it agin! I'm gonna do it again

cool song, cool answer :D

16. wat do i wanna know most at this point?

staind - paper jesus
Question what they tell you
All the lies that they are teaching,
And they've made a corporation
Out of desperate people's feelings...
of fear

hm, guess this is a re-affirmation of wat i think

well, that's it i guess...too hungry to think of any more questions right now...hope ya like it shil! i'm outta here

streamofthought

2007-05-28T19:52:00.000+05:30

The demons in your head are real, as real as you are. I wonder why they even call them demons. I guess everyone comes to this stage, eventually. Or not, I couldn’t really care. You’re different with different people, maybe wholly different – in this way you delude yourself, every minute of every day, by being someone others think you are, sometimes because you attribute things they attribute to you, to yourself until you have yourself at least partially convinced, or assured at any rate. Those bizarre moments when you are yourself tend to be, more or less, your worst. There’s a time when every single thing you hate in a person becomes all too apparent in yourself, when you think you don’t know the person who’s leering derangedly at you from the bloody mirror, when you realize that you’ve been anything but you to yourself, that everything you’ve ever done has been to put up a façade that everyone smashes against, while you’re at the top of it, blissfully unaware that it hasn’t always been there. When you’re in denial, everything you keep hidden just broods inside you, maligning and contorting itself to make that final break, to lift you clear of the pseudoisms that lead you on…when you see yourself as you actually are, when you see everything you ever hated, that you feared, every perverted, evil, nauseous, deceitful, demented thought as that which has been festering inside your head, you finally know, and, as usual, you say ‘why me?’ That time is now, and I feel an overwhelming sense of resentment. Against what turned me this way, against my environment, against my ego, against myself. You know what? There is no hope any more, there never was. Even if there was, I would’ve made the same choices.

Call me a misanthrope; i couldn't really give a fuck.

nivi's tag

2007-04-10T17:10:00.000+05:30

1.Were you named after anyone? yup, unfortunately
2. Do you wish on stars? nope
3. When did you last cry? you think i'll admit to it?!?
4. Do you like your handwriting? i don't exactly mind it :)
5. What is your favourite meat? chicken!
6. What is your most embarrassing CD on your shelf? nothn like tat
7. If you were another person, would YOU be friends with you? yea i guess
8.Are you a daredevil? yo
9. How do you release anger? usually i don't let anyone know
10. Where is your second home? ryt next door :))
11. Do you trust others easily? nope
12. What was your favourite toy as a child? my giant panda
13. What class in school/college do you think is totally useless? sas
14. Do you use sarcasm a lot? ya think?!?
15. Have you ever been in a mosh pit? naw
16. What do you look for in a guy/girl? nothing, really
17. Would you bungee jump? obviously!
18. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off? always
19. What's your favourite ice cream? chocolate
20. What are your favourite colours? red, black
21. What are your least favourite things? pretentious ppl, a lotta veggies
22. How many people do you have a crush on right now? none
23. Who do you miss most right now? my other personality :D
24. What are you listening to right now? raindrops
25. If you were a crayon, what colour would you be? red
26. What is the weather like right now? rainy
27. Last person you talked to on the phone? rajani
28. The "first" thing you notice about the opposite sex? this applies to everyone, their eyes
29. Do you like the person who sent you this? yup
30. How are you today? indifferent
31. Favourite non alcoholic drink? pepsi
32. Favourite alcoholic drink? d only thing i don't mind...beer
33. Natural hair colour? black
34. Eye colour? brown
35. Wear contacts? nope, glasses
36. Siblings? nope
37. Favourite month? may
38. Favourite food? chicken, duh!
39. Favourite day of the year? friday the 13th
40. Have you ever been too shy to ask someone out? never dun it
41. Scary movies or happy endings? scary movies
42. Summer or winter? winter
43. Holi or Diwali? diwali
44. Do you like your name? nope
45. What book/magazine are you reading? shalimar the clown
46. What's on your mouse pad? my mouse and my mobile
47. What did you watch on TV last night? epl
48. Favourite Smell? chocolate
49. Have you ever regretted breaking up with someone? hasn't happened yet
50. Most tiresome thing you’ve ever experienced/done? am experiencing...engineering

nailgun

2007-01-29T12:24:00.000+05:30

Motherfucker wants me dead…so does that bitch. Out of hand, I’ll show them out of hand – bastards! Who knows what he gets into over there, with that fuckin sheet nailed to his wall? Nail, yes, nail, nail it right through his fuckin noggin, thump thump thump, nail it with his eyes open…rip off the bandage, no anesthesia, rip off his fuckin scalp and listen to him scream and moan and whine and plead. You’d like that wouldn’t you? No? It’s the hammer isn’t it? No, I thought as much, you’d rather go whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, right between the eyes, twinkly twinkly eyes. Then its time to put the lights out – good night little guy, burn in hell…sleep tight, don’t scream. No, we don’t want that, do we? Screams hurt our little ears. Uh uh we gotto do something about that. What? Are you sure? Hm, yea, I see it now, whoosh and its no scream, yes? There’s the pretty fountain, o yes, we want the pretty fountain. We’re going to get sprayed though, just like in those detective programs. Maybe we’ll even get to be on one. But he needs to scream once, how will she know otherwise? Scream, then its whoosh! There we go, you’re so clever. Watching them watch each other and claw and writhe will be so much fun. Gotto leave the twinkle till then, and then put it out, one for him and one for her and another one for him and another one for her and then its lights out, time to die, die in the red, red, redness. Tomorrow? Why not now? Sleeping? Asswipes…I suppose you could make it up. O I wanna hear you go whoosh. Let’s hear you then, right now. Cold, you’re so cold I’d’ve thought you were dead. Closer, yes, come closer, that’s it. Closer to my ear, yes, let’s hear it. ‘Click’ NO!

rUminaTiOns of A ConstiPatEd cOW

2006-08-23T21:37:00.000+05:30

my apologies to any cow lovers out there who are insulted by the title. i do not intend to besmirch the reputation, glory and exaltedness of cows. cows are co0o0o0ol. i just named this the way i did coz, well, i kinda couldn't think of anything else. the intensity of thought that goes into the near-fugue cows enter when they ruminate is something i've always found enthralling in its entirety. if people would sit (or stand, or lie down, or kneel, or walk, or run - though the last two could cause some degree of discomfort - or hang upside down from monkey-bars - this one as well i reckon - and, well, i think you get it by now even if you don't have a brain or yours went on strike or melted due to the intense radiation caused by being on your mobile phone all the bleeping while or quit...or if you had a lobotomy for that matter. i wonder if you'd actually be reading this if you had a lobotomy. even if you were reading this i wonder if you could comprehend anything. interesting...i think i'll have to research the effects of lobotomies on ppl. o i'll save that for later, so lets close this thing, it seems to be getting too damn long and i'm not exactly helping by typing in all this :D) and do that. cough up food of various degrees of undigestedness and chew on it all the while just thinkin of stuff. what stuff? you know, just stuff, stuff that matters to us as a whole. who knows? maybe cows could be thinking of stuff like quantum mechanics and gateways to parallel dimensions or the cure for aids or metaphysics or god or meybe even the ultimate question ('o0o what does this button do?!?'). i dare not speak of it, that's why i put it in parantheses. so some ppl who might actually read this will think that its the editor who has shoved it in there to serve his own self-centred, heartless, incomprehensive nature.

so i was just sitting there and doing this very thing, ruminating, minus the actual coughing up of stuff. my stomach was comparable to the fuel tank indicator being all the way upto full on the negative side. so there i was, just sitting there, feeling sleepy and ruminating. just then the worst thing that could happen did happen. a face that to me was eerily reminiscent of ye olde tapioca pudding walked in and demanded our absolute attention. the rest was a blur, an absolute blur. no, i did not give it my attention, duh! i was ruminating - and i think something actually did come up from my tummy tum tum heh heh...yea you got that bleeping-a right. it was that damn sickening.

o woe is me to have to have gone through that. the cow got me through it...i was in the same dire need as an extremely constipated cow who, unfortunately, has nothing to think about and whose sphincter needed some form of relief (cows can't cough up stuff when they have nothing to think about, sadly). fortunately, like the all-knowing, mighty and eternal cow, something did come to my mind to make me cough up something and finally get to think of something else...

all hail the cow!!! (constipated or not)

bleeeeee....ad infinitum...eeeeeep

2006-08-22T19:25:00.000+05:30

prologue

why doncha just bleepin look up the word bleep eh?!? ;)

post-prologue:

yea, THAT was the prologue...

whatever:

ok this is not supposed to make sense. this does not have a point. if you're lookin for one, here's a hint - or a coupla dozen - split, amscray, vamoose, gitouttahea, exit: stage left (ah i'm gettin tired o this). o0ok so where was i? nowhere i guess...now let me start. ahem! after a long, hard, tortuous, exhausting, ultra-boring, nonsensical, fucked up - et. al - day, i got home and turned on my computer. expectation, numbness, anticipation, thirst, were some of the feelings that flooded through my um...eerily vacant cranium? yea that's it! (i digested my brain, by the way) there it was, i opened my gmail account - after drinkin some appy fizz, so i was technically no longer thirsty, i'm just stating this for the record :P.

then...

'bleeeeep! this can't be bleeping right!!! bleeping hell, what the bleeping bleep do these bleeping bleeps of bleeps think they're bleeping upto? why the bleeping hell does this have to bleeping happen to me? my poor poor bleeping inbox. oh, bleep! bleep you! bleep me! bleep the world! bleep bleep bleep bleepity bleep!!! waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah (bleep!) i want my bleeping bleep...'

ah, that felt so good. i exaggerated a little bit, of course, but i need to let it all out, don't i? yea, you understand, nice...ok so here is what BASICALLY happened. i checked my mail and was feelin quite happy when the 'spam' folder came into view. the number next to it read 39. i clean up my spam everyday. i opened it, and it was the usual. viagra, vixagra, and almost each and every single pill related to erectile dysfunction and/or libido enhancement (or 'not having a good erecxsction' as those bleeping bleeps of bleeps prefer to bleeping put it). after the day that i had just had, this wasn't very amusing, as you can very well figure out. what's that? you don't understand? want me to flood YOUR inbox with these messages? BLEEP!!! was chatting and scrapping a few ppls later. i checked my inbox again and lo! and bleeping behold! 3 new spam messages...

let's hypothesize now...if i had actually bought and consumed that much whatever-you-may-call-it, i would probably have populated a few billion galaxies and my libido would have drawn every living being in existence closer to me and the universe boundary would probably look like my face. o0o now there's a scary thought. it'd prolly have imploded then and there :D

heh heh, all joking and hypotheses aside, its really really really irritating innit? ppl are eVil! darn, who am i to complain about that? so am i...oh bleep! why can't they bleeping send me ads about computer games or even bleeping toilet seats. but not bleeping this...anything but bleeping this...i'm feelin so bored, and evil, and my spam folder is empty for the first time in aeons. i think i'll start forwarding the messages i do get from now on >:)

epilogue:

PSYCH!!!

oh bleep! another one!!! bleep bleep bleep bleep bleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!!!

it!

2006-08-22T19:18:00.000+05:30

this is prolly something i should've done a long time ago...doin it now anyways. its something i wrote and got published in quirk. kinda one of the high points of my life coz its the first thing i wrote that got published :) here goes nothing. i titled it

Marty

It was raining in the decrepit tenements of nowhere. The staccato tap of raindrops on a rusted tin roof permeated the air, already saturated with a blatant sense of wrong. A candle flickered, casting occasional light on the unholy darkness, momentarily revealing a figure ensconced within it...a face, devoid of emotion, eyes hinting at an eerie malevolence, revealing zilch.

Marty was back...Marty, his pal, his teacher, his lover; Marty, who he hadn’t seen since his childhood days. It felt so damn good, after all these years.

‘Where ya bin, Mart?’

‘Bin around, kid...bin around...’

Images buried long ago flickered into view. Memories long forgotten came back...Marty...He had been eight years old. He had a new dad. At last, a person he could count on; a person who he could call his friend, even if he did smell funny at times. Sure, Marty was there all the time. But he was scared of him, plenty scared. He was afraid Marty might hurt him. Mama had told him so, and he believed mama. He loved mama more than anything else in the whole world. And mama seemed to fall down quite a lot after she met dad. Maybe love did this to you.

‘Come here, weirdo...’

‘Leave him alone’

‘You stay out of this, bitch!’

‘No, you can’t do this to him’

‘Screw you, you can’t tell me what I can or can’t do’

‘Get out of my house. Out, out, out!!!’

‘Why you...’

He had run away then. Mama wasn’t falling down, it was a lie. Dad smelled worse than ever now. He ran into the kitchen, and there was Marty. He turned away, afraid to look into those eyes, afraid of the leer that seemed to be on his face perpetually, teeth glinting in the light. He found his gaze being slowly riveted towards Marty. They were face to face. Amazingly, there was concern in those eyes. The wicked grimace seemed to be an understanding smile. At that moment, he fell in love. Marty was there. He would take care of him, as long as he was alive. He felt safer than he had ever felt before. He smiled back – he, who had, until that moment, never expressed any sort of emotion. For those few moments, he was beautiful.

‘Your dad again, huh?’

‘Yeah’

‘I’m sorry, dog’

‘...’

The silence had been shattered by screams of agony; and then, more silence. They had rushed into the room. She lay on the floor, bleeding, motionless, at his feet. Dad was taking a huge swig from a bottle. The smell...he turned towards her. His eyes said it all. Marty had stepped in. Mom would have died had it not been for Marty. He watched as Marty took care of business. Then, weak, he had rushed to his mom. She was unconscious.

‘Is she dead?’

‘No, she’s breathing...barely’

‘I can feel a pulse’

He had laid her on the sofa and called an ambulance. ‘She’s gonna be ok, son’ the doctors said, and he believed them. Doctors wouldn’t lie, they healed people. He went back home to get her something to eat. There was a lot of blood. He had cleaned up and then left.

Mom had been in the hospital for a week. When they got back home, Marty was nowhere to be seen. He had asked his mom about him. She said Marty had gone away to live with his family.

‘Will he be back, mom?’

‘No, I don’t think he will’

‘Why not?’

‘He’s happier living with his family’

He had gone up to his room and wept, not eating until it became painful. But it didn’t bring Marty back...

***

1984. Graduation day was around the corner. He was top of his class, as usual. He was walking towards his class, ignoring the outstretched legs in the hallway, ignoring the sneers and the mock-acting. This was nothing new. It happened every day of his miserable school life. ‘Vomit’ entered the classroom to loud, unconcealed imitations of someone puking. The teacher wasn’t in the class as yet; they wouldn’t dare do that while she was around. The hatred in the air was so thick it was like walking through tar. But he was used to it.

‘Hey shitface’

That was Brad, the most popular guy in college; but not because anybody liked him. Like isn’t a term you’d associate with a feeling towards a guy who was 6’4”, 290 pounds, and let you know it.

‘We got somethin’ to settle, man...c’mon guys...’escort’ vomit over here to the bathroom where we can get some privacy’

‘Stop it, Brad! I’m warning you...’

That was Helen, the most popular girl in college, the love of his life. She hadn’t looked twice at him before the day she first told Brad to leave him alone. He had smiled and thanked her. At that moment, they fell in love. He because he hadn’t imagined anyone would do such a thing; her because she had never seen anyone as beautiful as him, when he smiled.

***

He saw Marty again, in a bargain basement. Marty looked as though he had been through it all. He paid the bill. Together, they went back to what was left of his old home.

***

He and Helen were to be married the next day. He decided to drop by Helen’s place after work. He climbed up the stairs to her apartment. He took out his key and stopped.

‘Babe, you don’t want him, you want a real man.’

‘You’re drunk, Brad’

‘I’ve loved you ever since I first saw you. You know that’

‘This conversation is over, Brad. Now get out of my apartment before I call the police’

‘You bitch! If I can’t have you, I’ll make sure no one can’

THUD

He crashed through the door, too disoriented with rage. There she lay, bleeding, motionless. Brad was standing over her, barely, eyes glazed over. His knuckles hit solid bone just as Brad was about to turn around. He collapsed in a heap, with only the rise and fall of his chest to show he was alive, just about. He took him back to his house – to Marty. It was late when he got there. He dragged Brad’s body out of the car and took him to the kitchen. Some water would wake him...he kicked him in the face.

***

Brad woke up to blood filling his windpipe. Coughing and sputtering, he sat up, spraying blood all over the kitchen floor. He looked around him; he was in some sort of condemned building, looked like. He sat there, surrounded by detritus, trying to figure out where the hell he was, when he heard someone coming. He turned towards the footsteps and froze. It was him – he hadn’t even bothered to remember his name – and he had a kitchen knife in his hand, gleaming in the moonlight that filtered in through the rusted tin roof. He was talking to it, calling it Marty.

‘There he is, Marty...just as I said. You’ll take care of him, Marty? Sure, you go ahead and do that. You took care of dad, didn’t you? He never came back again. I didn’t thank you for that, Marty. Mom could’ve died if you weren’t there. I love you Marty. I’m glad I found you again. Now you can be my best man tomorrow, Marty. Isn’t that great?’

Brad was scared, shit scared, more so after hearing this bizarre dialogue. He was still talking to the knife; it was too low for him to hear. But his eyes said it all, glittering maliciously in the light of the candle. He was insane, and insane and a kitchen knife didn’t mix well – hell they didn’t mix at all. He had to get away, but he couldn’t. That knock on the head had seen to that. He did the only thing he could do...he prayed. He prayed that it wouldn’t be too painful. He prayed that he’d die quickly. One look at him told him otherwise. At that point he would have sold his soul to the devil to be somewhere else. Fool, the devil was already there, and he was in no mood to grant wishes.

He felt a white hot stab of pain in his back. Tears stung his eyes. He made to wipe them off, but he couldn’t move his hands. It had begun...he found his hands and feet being tied up.

‘Whatcha gonna do, Marty?’

His clothes were torn off him. Lightning flashed above. He could make out the faint patter of the first raindrops on the roof. A cold wind rattled through the building, making him conscious of his nudity.

The blade cut his ankle first, tearing through flesh and vein. ‘Marty’ was soaked in his blood. There was no pain then, amazingly. Nobody was there to hear the screams anyway. He would bleed to death in this anechoic shithole.

‘I wanna see the bone, Marty. I’ve never seen one before’

Then the pain struck him. He screamed like he had never screamed before, the blade cutting through tendons, exposing his ankle,. The veins on his neck were straining to break through his skin.

‘Can a knife scratch bone, Marty? ’

The screams turned into muted moans of sheer agony. The bone was wrenched out of its socket with a dull popping sound. Awareness struck him when the blade got to his knee. It was shoved in behind his kneecap, where it got stuck. It wouldn’t budge. Brad felt the knife being kicked out of his knee. He was beyond pain at that point. The moans kept growing in intensity. He could do nothing else. Then all was black.

***

It was done with. ’So that’s what a spleen looks like...EW...’ He stared down at Brad’s severed head, mouth twisted in a rictus of pain. Marty was sticking out of an eye-socket. He pulled him out; it barely required any effort. It was raining hard. The precipitation was a sort of baptism, cleansing Brad’s sins. God was with him. The blood, mixed with the rain water was starting to flow out through the doorway. Marty had blood all over him. He wiped him on Brad’s clothes. He performed the last rites. The candle had burned out long ago. The door was closed, slammed by the wind. He opened it and stepped out. He was smiling as he closed the door.

’C’mon, Marty, let’s go to your new home...’

bugger!

2006-08-20T11:47:00.000+05:30

heh heh, i think i wanna remember this one. its a lil message session i had with a buddy on me mob late last night. it being a weekend and both of us being bored, well, you kin i guess...it all started with a message that read

"hi, where are u now?
-so many blank lines that the scroll bar was barely distinguishable as a dot-
if you replied to this message, you're a FOOL. send it to your friends and see how many of them reply...its fun, try it!!! (or something of that sort...i kinda guessed when i saw the scroll bar *grin!* its such an old trick na?)"

ok its kinda hard to go on without a name. since obscenely short codewords seem to be the norm, lets use a not-so-obscenely-short name. hm, on second thought, not-so-short will do >:D let's call him/her/it (muahahaha i'm lovin this. i hope he - damn! - doesn't read this tho :P) plum-pudding-face bananahead jelly-arse. i was just kidding about makin it short so lets just call him/her/it pbj (o0o i'm lovin this even more, i dunno why...i'm weird! - NO slang)

me: home...u?
-the usual amount of spaces *grin!*-
get a life, dude. who the hell do you think i am to fall for THIS?!? sheez!

pbj: FOOL!

me: you're mistaken, bro...scroll down and read MY message now *grin!*

pbj: -after a delay- yea i was replyin to your question down there...you asked who the hell i thought you were right (me think: clever i gotto admit)

me: heh heh i didn't even scroll down to the bottom of your message and you SO obviously did. who's the fool now?

pbj: -no reply- (me think: heh heh! lets bug him a bit *evil grin!*)

me: i'm insane dude, but i'm no fool

pbj: o yea, sorry

me: no probs bro...

pbj: you thought i actually let you win?!? fat chance. gotohell

me: nah, i was waiting to see what took you so long to reply *grin!*

pbj: don't you have anything to do?

me: not really...don't you?

pbj: i have to go find something to do. this is gonna drive me mad

me: yea my lil problem is contagious heh heh

me: hey, i've got an idea...why not chase cars on the highway? i do that all the time, though i wear my rabid clown suit. its fun, give it a shot...

pbj: please feed me poison...i wanna die...a couple more of messages like that last one would do as well

me: naw, i don't let ppl die that easily. i like extremely slow, painful, horrific and tortuous deaths...

pbj: *pic showing a kid at his wits' end*

me: *tongue out animation*

me: aw man, and i was just gettin started...o well, bug ya l8r then...good night dude.

pbj: (just as i was about to send that last message) please, leave me alone...

me: ah, then why didn't you just say that in the first place? i would have done that then and there...moron!

needless to say there was no reply. i felt so nice yesterday night. got a good night's sleep until i was woken up by a bloody power failure in the morning. damn that was a good series of messages, dontcha think? ya think i should initiate the next chain? >:) mwahahaha i'm evil, i know...

(sarc.) o boy!

2006-08-18T20:58:00.000+05:30

don't even ask...this is something i wrote when i was screwed up. even i don't get it

Asterisk

A dark, plaintive room dimly lit by an overhead lamp, dominated by a dusty table with medium-sized stacks of paper and a dusty desktop computer, and by it is *, sitting there with his face buried in his hands, the three-day stubble on his face like a thousand pinpricks against his palms – people almost always prefer working in confined, ill-lit spaces and complaining about them, don’t they? To all appearance this posture would have signified dejection or frustration of some sort wouldn’t it? Then our assumptions are thwarted and actuality is driven into our guts like a double-edged sword, making a dull slurping sound, and as we stand there, utterly out of breath, he takes a sheaf of papers and blows the dust off them, sneezing as the dust balls disintegrate and move into his nose.

This day is not like any other day, on which he would have been wandering about aimlessly - with an affected air of purpose – through the sections of his office – we shall call it that, regardless of what it might actually be. It wouldn’t make any kind of significant difference if we called it that so we shall permit this cloud of ambiguity to be sifted through, to our liking – and talking to people he hardly knew or to whom people hardly talked to simply to assure that he was there. Assure whom, you ask? That is a question we do not presume to answer. On this day, * is given a deadline, in the resolution of which he played a part. On this day, he is given ‘purpose’.

While we were absorbed in all this reflection, * has tried deciphering the script. He ‘tsk-tsks’ and we then hear the shrill beep as his computer boots up. He drums his fingers on his table as his antediluvian system runs his OS files and we almost expect his to clap his hands and whistle when the interface does come up, but we know better. Let’s go get some water, shall we? This might take a little while, I guess.

A while later, the staccato ‘tappity tap’ of the keyboard comes drifting out of the room and we go back in. We go and stand behind his chair as he transcribes the content of the sheaves, blaspheming all the while – no, he cannot see us. If he could he’d be the rigid perfectionist he wants to be, or at least attempt to. As we see him doing all this, the inevitable question enters our thoughts; – why? Because...that’s it...’because’ – what? Remarks pour out like un-hardened jelly from an upside down mould that has just been lifted just a wee bit, ‘because it’s his job.’ Well, now, is it really? To understand that, we must know what his job is, shouldn’t we? Simply put, it is to type in vast amounts of unfiltered data (ambiguity is key, here), making changes where necessary. Data is after all data so we needn’t mention that it is imperative to retain the ultimate point.

Let us now digress – for comprehension’s sake - and take a little trip into the not too distant past, the very same not too distant past where our character, we shall call him, was just like many others, clueless and of no importance. Popularity was there, yes, but still, unimportant. Down-to-earth, he was, but dependable, we do not know. Then occurred a series of events that helped in boosting his image, his cred, his ego, his head – ah! Rhyme in reason...suddenly, his centre of gravity was raised a little bit and became higher than all of ours, than all the ‘others’. Its funny how inevitability and circumstance are misinterpreted as, what shall we say, him/her/it self by the person. We should, of course, think that this chain of thought would be abandoned especially since he was just an actor in a sitcom, performing rehearsed manoeuvres with the occasional ad-libbing. But no, it is not only hot air that fills his head now, its also subjective objectified falsehood.

Ok so where were we? The point, right, so let’s continue...I need not have mentioned that the data was someone else’s but I guess I just did and now I’m too lazy to go back and change it. What IS the point here? A pseudo-solipsist who went horribly astray and ended up confined in a sanctum walled by nihilistic delusions? An idiot who fails to realise his non-purpose? An extremely intelligent person corrupted? Here, we fail to come to a conclusion. We cease to exist and ‘I’ crops in. I for me, I for irony..

hm...

2006-08-18T20:34:00.000+05:30

damn, something's happening...arg! i'm losing touch with my wacky side. i'm gettin more and more pensive. the best i've been able to come up with was my orkut profile. waaaaaaaah! i want my stuffed rabid clown!!! sniff, this is so freakin unbearable. ok, breathe in, breathe out. that's it buddy. whoosh, hsooow! ah, that feels a whole lot better. its weird. suddenly you have all sortsa creatures in abundance inside your head. purple elephants with forked tongues and whole species and genera and classes and phylums and what not. one day you seek inspiration from the story of blinky the sloth who was too lazy to do anything but - yea, you guessed it right - blink; he enrolled himself in therapy and is now a counsellor for ppl who can't blink properly. what a success story eh? - and the next day, you don't.

no, on a more serious note, i happened to come across a couple of my old english papers somewhere in my room, and the stuff on there was so hilariously funny. i couldn't imagine me writing any of that. damn, what is happening to me? what is doing this to me? i've always been a critic of ppl who can't see the light side of anything. have i transmuted into something so far apart from myself? i don't wanna change that, it was one thing that let me have a hold on sanity as i saw it. maybe its just a phase, maybe its just a mood swing. ah, i sure hope it is because i don't think i could stand myself if the worst had(/s) actually happened. hope is there i guess, hope is always there. hopefully you'll see something relieving soon...hopefully...

fugue

2006-07-16T12:01:00.000+05:30

PAWN

God whispered in his ear – a brutal whip crack that crashed through the ephemeral visions that were his dreams, yet not waking him up. There he lay, not awake, not asleep, hanging on to unconsciousness by a few frayed edges, like those of his sanity. The voice encompassed everything; it was as though he was among the clouds, with lightning flashing all around him, the sound of thunder tearing the air asunder. The whisper transformed into a roar, the roar into an inhuman shriek that drove nails of white hot pain into his head. The words shattered the jagged bolts of lightning and brought him back. He woke up to the cold sheen of sweat on his body. He could still hear the voice. Now it was a seism, but it spoke the very same words. It subsided to a tremor, just as the sunlight streaked through the blinds. It would begin today...just as He said it would.

He studied himself in the mirror. A thin stream of blood trickled from his eyes, went down his face and into the water-filled basin below. It became a swirl with the running water as he washed his face in it.

* * *

It had started three months ago, yet nobody knew why. The dead remained uncounted, the war being raged over their ravaged bodies, and souls. Death hung over the battlefield, unable to keep up with cold, hard steel. A head – what was left of it – leered down from the top of a tree, the eyeballs pecked out, and maggots writhing in the sockets. The trees bore body parts instead of fruit, the leaves dotted brown with clotted blood, which was caked on the floor, the earth barely visible in most places. Trenches were filled with the mangled bodies of poor souls, hell bent on avoiding being seen, unable to escape from the lethal grenade explosion. Even trees weren’t spared – the ones left standing, silent witnesses to the kind of havoc wreaked by tanks and rocket launchers. Roots hung in the air like the legs of some great felled animal...

He saw it all, he saw their souls stretching toward the skies, waiting for liberation, not getting it until death came their way, moaning with the savage intensity only the pain of the undead could inflict. His eyes were antithetic of anything remotely human. They glinted in the sunset, burning out as he trudged back to the garrison. He walked in to the salutes of his men, walked past them, used to the dull glare of fear in their eyes. It had been like this after the incident. He could have prevented the scream if he had gotten to the windpipe. The bastard was too twitchy though. He still felt the warm flow of blood over his hands, the very same blood that flowed under the door and into the hallway. The coppery miasma still lingered in his room; he hadn’t bothered to get the rug changed. The heavy vapours had lulled him to sleep ever since, as they did now.

With sleep came dreams. He dreamt of all that had come to pass since that night, at all which pointed to just one single outcome – judgement day. The fate of humanity would be pronounced, once and for all, and it was to be sealed in blood...his blood. With these thoughts coursing through his mind, he wept; he wept as he had seen what lay beyond – there was to be no redemption, no redemptionist, no hope...

He contorted with the hurt of the eternal fires of hell coursing through his body, as it all changed. His eyeballs rolled up into the sockets and he let out a silent screech that resonated through the anechoic corridors of trees as his soul was wrenched from his body. The time had come...

* * *

Two figures sat across each other on a table, a chessboard between them. They were waiting for the choice...one of the pieces moved. The figure in white smiled – oh it was beautiful then, with an unearthly beauty that could destroy all of existence in an instant. ‘Checkmate’ it said...They waited...

* * *

He woke up, gasping for breath. He had made the choice, now there was just the deed. His hand reached for his knife even as he got up. He left with his gun and nobody tried to stop him – they saw death in his eyes, death for him and for them. He ran into the forest, led by mere instinct, slicing through anything that got in his way. He had reached the frontier. There were guards – his instinct was still bounded by the walls of rationality. Yes, there he was - a flaming cigarette-end in the thick black night air. He trudged towards him and whispered his greeting as he slit his throat. He watched him die, choking on his blood and gurgling silently. He watched him until his eyes glazed over. He spat on his body and left him there. There was no need to hide it...

He was in the clearing between the two lines. The crescent moon shone an unholy red, as if immersed in the blood of all those who had died on the battlefield. He knelt in the middle of the clearing and lowered his head. ‘So be it’ he whispered and raised his head. Bits of his torso rained down as the landmine exploded. His legs thrashed for a moment and were still. Blood still seeped from his waist onto the dewy grass, mingling with the diamond droplets that shone red with it and the light of the moon. Scarlet fire raged in the circle of his death for an instant before it annihilated everything...

* * *

White...white was purity, in it lay salvation. White was what he had chosen. White was the colour of the devil. In the halls of hell, alight with eternal fire, red as blood, hot as pain, was the chair of Satan and it was a white beyond mere incandescence. White hot like He Himself...Fool was he to have ever thought that in god lay salvation. God brought forth the war, god killed all those people, god tried to tempt him. The flames caressed him into sweet oblivion. Everything stopped. Existence blinked into nothingness. All that was left was the table and the two figures.

‘Again?’

‘Like it has always been.’

Existence winked back...A chessboard; a macrocosm of macrocosms poured out of the nexus of light and dark...

The figure in white created man - he always did. It had started again...

‘Your move’

wtf?!?

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