Contrast

Nice, no?

Few things to share

We all have this ‘I want to be a rock star‘ thing in us. That urge to sing. Juggle between professions. ‘Rock On’ type. Get it? But then we know when not to do it. Right?

Alas! people who ferry the guys who work on retarded excel sheets do not know of this ‘control’. The Cab drivers. More so, when the lone analyst is like the mightiest of all the seven dwarfs, there is no stopping for the 7ft large human being to show off his vocal skills. Not that I have no sensibilities to a musical rhythm. ‘appudo ippudo eppudo‘ was a hit in my college too. But it rhymed, you see!

At 11 in night when he tunes into his favorite music station, smashing the car controls, emoting wwe akin final blows on each beat, all together while driving me safely to home, I get shit scared. I don’t know if changing the settings would play any better. Turning it off might be the craziest attempt at challenging that human’s kindness.

And so I think of all the mind boggling, cool stuff I did at office. All the exciting stuff I look forward at home. I wish I were in Delhi. Eating proper food. Watching TV. sigh!

Anyways, today is the Payday. I have logged on to my HDFC account numerous times and now I am sure they won’t pay me a chillad until I report them the sales figures of xyz in the nephrology market with share changes for past 26 weeks. I so love my company

This job thing is a very hitting change. You are on your own. You soon realize the earnestness which you have to put in your man hours spent in office. The planning which goes into timing your breaks so that you get your coffee and your manager returns from loo, wondering this super human analyst never takes breaks. How each assignment is a stepping stone in your professional life. Same kinds, which at college were tastefully aimed at the campus lake. Reason de tire you are here

I have been here for a month now. Bangalore has been okay. The food was so expected and to save the cribbing, I am moving towards MTR ready to cook meals. The weather is nice, they say. For a month I was exposed to daylight only for an hour or so. Women here are more authoritative than men. Bet they have ‘Sasur bhi kabhi damad tha” kinda serials. I took 3 attempts to fill in the first cheque to my landlady, Mrs. Munivenkattapa. She relayed the courtesies by naming me ‘Rohith’.

Temples here are different than in north. Proper priests. Well defined courtesies. A nice experience when I go once in a while. Even people are different in their life styles. Very simple. But again women rule the roost. They are laden with gajras and gehnas. Men are relegated to lungi and baniyan. It happened with me in initial days. I was timidly walking down the street when this quintessential male walked straight into my trajectory, flipped his lungi ala Rajnikant and I dived in awe.

Its been quite a while I wrote anything. No specific reasons. This digressing post should sum up the gaps. I will write more. For now, HDFC again.

Of aunties and jobs.

Home comings are usually followed by hazy mornings, unkempt hairs and some bumpy, loud vsits of my er.. so many relatives and almost everytime when the elderlies are done with their cribbings of respective kaam waalies, comparision of saree prices and match-making small talks, the attention diverts to their younger cohorts. Which puts into picture,  the life and times of this young flambouyant blogger.

Apparently as a kid, he had a fetish for pressure cookers. While the respective Jain aunty ke kids whined for GI Joes, he was cool with banging cookers on home floors. What concerns him the mosts is that ‘this’ is perhaps the only thing with which he is remembered amongst his mom social circle.

Jain Aunty: dekho kitna bada ho gaya hai ye ab. Kal tak nikker mein cooker cooker chillata ghooma karta tha, hain naa? Ab enginner bann gaya. Job kahan lagi?

Me (dipped in samajic maryaada waali tone): Jee, banglore mein job hai. Mu Sigma.

J A: ohh achcha. Kaunsi company hai?

(side note: Not that she did not hear it right. If you are to be working in any company other than their husband’s or Infosys, this was inevitable.)

Me: Jee aunty, MU SIGMA. Business analytics role hai.

J A: er.. mmm <blank blank> ye kya banati hai sonu?

Me: (Don’t. ask. ever): ye kuch BANATI nahi hai aunty. We analyse the data.. mm err.. provide soluntions <blank blank>

J A: <blank blank>

J A: Tum IIT walon ko to achcha kaam milna chahiye naa waise.

Me: Give me that dagger. now.

* Jain was obviously a fictional prefix unless I was ready to be lynched next time. But her son did get a job in some regular IT firm. I hope it was Satyam.

And this post-job sem is pretty chilled out. People are so inactive and lazy that they could also be giving cold complexes to the refrigerator salesman at Iceland. I mean, the last industrious thing I did was filling the ‘about me’ entry for the batch yearbook. That too, I went numb at my 15 years hence plan.

To be honest, my only responsibilities back home have been studying, washing the car at weekends and getting mother dairy poly packs every morning. With me in hostel, the last two had gone. And now the very idea of a company trusting (and paying) me with its internet resources for some useful number analytics sends me to jitters. Leave alone managing a life in a distant city. And killing the “what in 15 year question”.

If stupidity were a sport, I would be on the cover page of every magazine. Front page. Full color. Some time back this was the e-mail I received from the academic section.

Dear Rohit,

You have applied for change of course from EC
662  to EC 654. But according to our record you were never
registered for EC 662. So, your request for course adjustment
could not be processed.

Anyways, all that is history now. I have successfully changed courses, assured mom that I won’t be surviving on maggies and mailed my confirmation to the company I would be crunching numbers for. Yes this is what the analytics lingo is. And now I would retire to sleep with my over exploited Winamp playing the Billu Barber’s Khudaya Khair

Quirky Tag

Jassi bhaiya tagged me to blog on my six unspectacular quirks. And as it goes in the ‘unwritten law of blog-o-sphere’, when the big timers order, little ones  must oblige.

The Rules:

1. Link the person who tagged you.
2. Mention the rules on your blog.
3. Tell about 6 unspectacular quirks of yours.
4. Tag 6 following bloggers by linking them. (tagged all)
5. Leave a comment on each of the tagged blogger’s blogs letting them know they’ve been tagged.

6 random quirks about me.

1. When I was 2, I was nearly eaten up by the doberman at my grandmother’s place. He growled when I cried and charged when I took his biscuit. The world would have deprived of so much of wisdom!

2. I have been known to exercise my vocal chords beyond limits. Good thing, they used to make me the class monitor. Bad thing, I get beaten up by aunties in cinema halls.

3. I have never been much good at sports or sanskrit. So when my class people used to bunk the Sanskrit classes for sports lessons, I had no choices. While others ‘played’, I was caught and put back to ‘yoga lessons’. The one small kids do on annual day wearing yellow pink dresses. I hated my coach. I hope he is in hell.

4. I have been a good actor. When I was in class 10, I was asked for a TV series. I declined for my boards. Ah! the stupidity of a tenth grader.

5. I never learned how to fly kites or play cards. All I did was hold the ‘charkhari’ and yell ‘kaato kaato’. I felt so embarrassed today. I even forgot how to hold the charkhari

6. I have this habbit of observing things. The more inclined I am to get in wordly pleasures, the more easily I can get withdrawn from them. I am still to explore this possibility of a Neo and a Matrix. Perhaps my only real quirk.

PS: and I tag Jakhar, Sadhwi, Neelu, Vikram for now. Two left. And now Ponker is tagged too. One left!

PPS: And now I tag Ishani!

new year notes

Random stuff. Not at all coherent and no points made here. And no new year resolutions for me.

This time as I was leaving my mom pulled me and directed to the ‘Pooja Ghar’ and said, “Jaao, bhagwaan se kaho kuch akkal de tujhe. Be serious. Control your phone bills. And do study this last sem”. She gave me those ‘I know it all – whats going on in your life’ types look. I tell you,moms have got those eyes of  steel.

And as I meekly entered the hallowed room with my brother dispatching a ‘well timed smirk’ and my dad passing his ‘you think this will work. huh” glance, I decided that so be it. I won’t change. Not even a bit.

And that I would kill even the micro-bacterial size achievement ka keeda in me. No expectations. No vindications. No judgements. This year I will be me.

And regarding the being serious pledge. I am serious. Seriously! It does not mean that I have to make a grim face – a know it all look – and be in a career conscious gait to prove that. It does not mean that when my aunts and uncles from far far away lands bump into me and put up there ever so concerned querry “Ab Aage kya socha hai beta“, I should rattle off some IAS, MBA, MS stuff just to fit into their world view of ‘Focussed Child’ and put up a role modal in front of their toddler. ‘Lo iski tarah bano!’ NO.

And its not just with me. Its the way we are brought up in our society. Achieve this. Prove that. Be there. Be loud. And when you have done this all and you are free, prod others to follow your race. So when the HR head of mu-sigma asked me as to why I always wanted to be an engineer. I wanted to say cos this is what intelligent 90 percenters do to screw their happiness. And I am no different

Its like if you are enjoying , if you are laughing , you are not making yourself into a breadwinner. The entire Indian society is designed to make enjoyment a very ridiculed thing, just after Saurav Ganguly. And if you are in an elitest instituion like mine you need to be geared up. Abrest with knowledge. Aim high. Achieve. CGs and Position of responsibilities.

And so its about struggle, hard work, sweat, competition. Not enjoyment. And for what? For the attestation from the society that you are like them. So that they include you into them and then you espouse the same!

Work hard but grab the fact that there is a part in you who does not care about your social status! There is that kid in you who just wanted that digital watch and the sleek cell phone and you guided him to become and engineer. More so, you wanted to be the best of the best of the best! And above that every time you steered up, you wanted your peers to acknowledge those grade points on your sheet and give you that demigod status.

Last time on my trip back home I met this small rag picker in train and all he wanted was some money to buy a watch from a local ferry walaa so that he could locate the last train to reach back home to his only known survivor of village floods, his mom and give his daily earnings. That is his life.  Simple. Plain. He wanted a pink watch and he wore it around with pride.

I tell you people, outside my A/C compartment, away from those pouting belly uncles and hanging jewelery aunts, seeing this small boy in his nickers and torn sweater with that pink watch and that ecstatic voice ‘bhaiya time theek kar do iski zaraa. mera station aane walaa hai’, it was all that I ever wanted to do. Match his clock

No gyaan this time. And no strong upbeat resolution to post. And as far as to how I celebrated my new year eve, I slept till 11am of the 1st.

Hot girls

I just have to get a hang of a song. And then I carry it for ever!

Zombie

Smells like teen spirit

Let go – Frau Frau

House’ track song – Baba o’reilly

Hot girls – INXS.

The last one totally rocks. You are down and out – you want to hear sth. – you listen to this crap – you gotta be kidding – the lyrics are similar to a perverted nursery child, fantasizing

Here’s the video:

And read between the song

Hot girls, they can break me, break me
Hot girls, you know what you’re doing

On her motorbike, the way she’s riding it, riding it
And she says it feels so good but she is hiding it, hiding it
Wet lips to cigarette and now she’s striking it, lighting it
As she looks me in the eye, hell, she must know she’s inviting it

Hot girls, they can break me, break me
Hot girls, you know what you’re doing
Now, hot girls, come and break me, break me
Hot girls, take me where you are going

Holding up some paper to the window, she’s writing her name
And number and I’m laughing as I’m dialing it, dialing it

I’ve got nothing to prove (don’t lose your love)
Ain’t got nothing to lose (and don’t ask her)
If you need someone to use (don’t lose your head)
I can take the abuse..

hehe. absolute shit

I am not even drunk–how is that possible?

Note: Everything shall wait now. I so love myself! Look at this epitaph (link ahead). For jakhar, with love.

or maybe at 6 in morning, I am writing and hallucinating, both.

That first semester routine; wake up – brush – bath – breakfast. In fact mornings such as these remind me of Math-101, Dosas on weekends, morning teas with Tunni and Dubey, Shady’s laoud cassette player, the start of the glorious Chandi (read Chandrol) era, Naagori’s infatuation with mangal pande and consequently with me.

I remember that day when I was forced asked to call up at home and find out if and how we know Mangal Pande. The concerned mother replied in negative and requested me not to fancy any further chances with some Bajpais or Khuranas concerning Atal Bihari or Madan Lal Khurana. How I wish I could tell her, I am being ragged. That Nagori guy was 6 feet tall!

Next task was to dance ‘Kajra re’.

The lobby mates: me, Rahul (this naarcissist made us call him shady), Chintu (the guy next door), Sanjeev and Subodh and an Msc.

If Barney were to define a cool-stud-fast graph and Rahul were to be called the ‘Rawalpindi express’, I would safely be the ‘Sampark Kranti’ but these two, Sanjeev and Subodh, will undoubtedly and affectionately be called “The Slow Brahmaputra Mail That Is Currently Broken Down At Bongaigaon Station. Passengers approach ticket counter for refund please“.

(deep breath)

I mean there were moments when even the resolute me, determined not to laugh and yet again perform that after laugh therapy (musky) could not help but wonder and stare agape, aghast, dumbfounded at the moralistic replies they used to recite verbatim to some common ragging queries and propositions like, “girlfriends? “, ” running commentary on this mute video. smirks “, ” sizes and frequencies”.

They surely made their parents proud (ahem ) but almost all of the times, I was left to do the honors .

Coming back to the Shady and co. well.. umm they were the then  ‘we don’t give a crap buddy. You fuck with us, we give bumps‘. I mean you peep into the room and you find four five of them jumping to the scores of ‘Rape me’, ‘Zombie’ and similar s. Disturbingly so, it happened when one day, that they were shouting high ‘alice! alice! who the fugg is alice‘ and this concerned lobby dude comes up and nudges “Isshhh.. ye Kya ho gaya inhe? Do you know her!“. Phew! ( oh nooo! not again please ) Good he didn’t meet me when they were worshipping nirvana.

more nostalgia. will write it soon. abhi padhai

The Bakarz 2.0: editorial

This magazine has been brought to you by the creative (ahem!) genius of two good-for-nothing jerks and their team of gullible writers brain-washed into believing that they are a part of something historic and enthrallingly significant.

They say “Laughter is the best medicine”. But the same is not true for Bakarz, for some of our humor is bound to get on people’s nerves. And just in case laughter IS the best medicine, why don’t we have Goofy as the IIT-G doctor serving Bakarz 2.0 instead of “Panther” as everyone else there.

But we digress.

This being the second issue of a wannabe humor sensation that is Bakarz, we decided to do away with pathetic articles copied from elsewhere, and replace them with filth written by us. ( No Inzamam-type-inspired articles this time around, thank you very much! ) We sink much lower though. For the first time in our rather short and un-illustrious history, we bring to you the perspective of an average IITian female, and analyze the single minded devotion of a summer intern. (you know the one that culminates with 50 euros)

With pearls of wisdom pouring in from our jobless alumni (Lehman goes bankrupt) with an equally devastating review of the box office hit (?) ‘Love Story 2050’.

Our language, as you will learn in the subsequent pages, has been given an ISO 9001 certificate for purity. If, however, your perverted mind comes across phrases that seem to have naughty connotations, LAUGH. Fall of the chair. Roll. Kick.

But keep them to yourself – We cannot afford to pay off the admin, you see…

Phew!! Finally we would request the administration to bestow upon us the tag of Conveners of the Bakarz. We promise that we would not compete with Techniche and Alcher people for the schlum job.

The Editors.

an excerpt from the editorial, the Bakarz

poem

A dedication to my bestest friend.

Main aur Bahl aaksar ye baatein karte hai,
agar electronics  samajh me aati to kaisa hota,
prasanna ye kehta, prasanna wo kehta,
prasanna aisa hota, prasanna waisa hota,
main aur bahl,

Song in background:
Ru ru ru..

Yeh kahan, aa gaye hum, yuhi speech padhte padhte,
Speech ke pairo pe hai janam, mere sare number pighalte – 2

Song ends:

Ye quiz hai ki ECE xyz ki khuli hui zulphe,
ye chaand hai ya mere paper pe ZERO,
ye sitare hai ya paper pe cross,
ye hava ka jhoka hai ya behoshi cha rahi hai,
ye patton ki thartharahat hai ya main kaap raha hu,
ye sochta hu mai kab se gumsum,

Majbur hai ye haalat iidhar bhi, udhar bhi,
Speech ka ye khauf iidhar bhi, udhar bhi,
kehne ko to bahut kuch hai par kisse kahe hum,
kab tak yuhi khamosh rahe hum, aur sahe hum,
ki jab mujhe bhi ye khabar hai,
ki ye speech processed nahi hai, nahi hai, nahi hai,
magar dil kehta hi,
prasanna yahi hai, yahi hai, yehi kahi hai.

blog blog.

Life on a fast lane. If you would say.

a DD in design – touching nadirs at midsems – financial crisis! – The Bakarz – a failed offer – few derisions – iambakar – a new idea (techie one for a surprise) – venky’s screw up – another screw up -> a confrontation with mom – more financial crisis – CAT -> admit card? – new chai sessions at Roobal’s – a novel idea – blasts in Guwahati – Heroes – Kaku’s counseling cell – people pinging in (wink!).

and then a compulsive desire to write this all.

well, shall we blog :)

I love emoticons. I realized that I am more of an emotional boy. I am not a narcissict as people take me for. Neither do I impose my beliefs or judgements on you. I do some time take people for granted but then thats the way I am. Some one close to me once mentioned that I do not look out for advices, I look for attestations. This some times gets onto people. Some time I knowingly violate my limitations and touch that ‘chord’ in you which I know you would not like me to. Not that because it is personal to you but because even you do not have courage to acknowledge your presence on this earth. You know yourselves better than even your folks at home. Of late I realized that I can know the same. This gets onto you. I know. I back off. Now I am not being self conceited here. I know I can. And you know it too .

Anyways, I realize that I should limit my social misadventures. I will. I am retreating back to people who are like me. I am going home. I ll play with my nephews

PS: I have started another blog site. Its more of a journal actually. I can scribble whenever I want!

http://iambakar.livejournal.com/

:P

I was just wondering what if someone has so much to say – so much to tell, and yet for some reasons doesn’t feel like speaking or typing anything at all. Would an emoticon do! . 

I am living in a fool’s paradise. I have literally screwed up every trace of sanity left in me and am in for a kill. I have developed a healthy (kick in arse) distate for everything that is either realistic, logical, practical or IITishh in nature.

People now look forward to meet/ provoke  me cause the sadistic kicks which I allow them to revel into is a “sane” dope for their miserable existense. As a matter of fact, some have claimed that I bring smile to their crooked faces. They miss me .

This post is a hate post. Particularly for those who thought they could take some levity and let me feel their doomness . I thoroughly loved it all but now I want to retreat back. I am sorry .

There is so much to say and so much to tell. And I don’t feel like cribbing. If I have to keep it simple and short, then: You suck .

~ Rohit Pande.

 

PS: There’s this one person I revred in this whole of IITG. I mean I actualy respect him in the truest sense of phrase. He did some thing which people here call as heights of insanity or chutiyapaa or his life’s ( yet another ) biggest mistake. He chucked his admits to Gerogia Tech. and London
School of Economics.

He started a new venture: “cashurdrive“. He is now making several appearances in newspapers. There are some 3,500 people in chandigarh and 10,000 people all over India who think that he might be right. That this might be a new niche in marketing and advertisement. 

Of course they are not IITians . They are small middle class family holders, security guards, fresh pass-outs (all non iitians or may be non-iitgians with 90% of his own batchmates ).

So they are not as practical or maybe far-sighted-career-oriented-big time jerks like most of us and so could give into some thing which is “Get seen. Get paid“.

Anyways, enough of self deprication :

On a serious note (if you have reached this far), there have been some newsroom discussion on his venture, if you care to read: latest news. I don’t profess that he would be filthy rich soon but I am just not able to find a reason why he won’t. 

The all time cribbers are hereby requested to come and rant ( yet again )

random.arbit

There used to be a time, not very long ago, in this very land of ‘dilli’, when some ex-school doodes and doodets used to get all jazzed up at a phone call, dress up weirdly and line up at movie theaters with the spirit and dedication of a hajj pilgrim.

They used to revel in that moment of sanity, agonize the sophisticated audience, kick the front sitter, steal glances off the corner seats and laugh their (insert an anatomy) out at the drop of any comment. This semi annual phenomenon was referred to as “a get together”.

Today it is with great sorrow that we solemnly announce the demise of this cult practice.

It has been murdered brutally (read stabbed mercilessly) by its clan members, sometimes left abruptly by some career conscious souls, deserted every time any of them got “committed” with a homo-sapiens and re booted the life manual.

The only saving graceful (asses) were a few enlightened souls who with dogged (read doggy like) determination and unparalleled maturity remained elusive of this tag.

Today we are going to narrate you an incident of one those cute smart chic dudes (whom we shall henceforth refer to as “R”).

Dumbstruck and dumbfounded at this sudden rise of EQ in his fellow buddies, R experienced the horror-est shock of his life when one fine day they casually denied him the pleasure (huh…) of their company for a movie.

Suddenly it seemed as if the age old values of friendship (stealing away lunch boxes, drawing caricatures on wooden desks, playing book cricket with the Math book, innovating choicest expletives and marveling at our growing finesse… etal) had lost its sheen. That an answer in negative for a simple query “Do you have a gf??” could easily have you labeled as an IITian or a Gay. That either you would be cited at multiplexes or sitting lonely cuddling the same coke for hours till it eventually boils and gives away.

But unfazed and unperturbed, R decided not to get swayed away by such tumultuous revelation and rather take his mom out for an all expense paid trip to the morning show of ‘Jaane tu yaa jaane naa’.

The movie in one word is insanely-awesome. Genilea no doubt is cute though R is still loyal to PZ. Imraan Khan for one is bhery cute. Okay, maybe he even laughs like Bugs Bunny and winks like Tweety, but then that is it. This is not a euro cup final where you let out a huge sigh “Aaaoooohhhhh!” every time the ball misses the goal. Chanting “Howww cuuute”, “So sweeeet” and akin with a constipated face and a shrill hushing sound such that mohalla kids may soil their undies may provoke R to take all of your popcorns and stuff into your nostrils. Worse if you happen to be a guy and still indulge/promote such ghastly acts, then he may quietly stomp on your tender body parts.

People, he gets paid for that. For each cute glance he throws at you or the fight he fakes, he gets his piggy fuelled by the Director. Try giving him more and he may even eat a dead animal’s carcass! Sounds gross naa? But it’s true.

The movie was good. Mom said she could have paid double the amount to watch it.

For some strange reasons, I was quite sober while watching the movie and could only smile in helplessness when my mother also decided to join the cooing junta!

Ab ye mera thoda sa “cryptic” mode:

Someone said, reflecting is one of the most difficult tasks. And the acknowledgments it demands can be quite screwing in nature. But still it is only then that you are able to look at things objectively. I might stop writing for comments from now on. May be password protect my posts as well. May be I am kind of drawing inwards. I wish to withdraw my strings from places where they hang in uncertainty. I know you want to reach across the other end of the screen and say “naa munna mat ro” but am fine!

On a lighter mode as I was nearing the completion of this post, maa read the last paragraph and for some strange reasons said that I could take an off if the cough still persists. Chutti it is then!!!

PS: Hear this “my immortal” by Evanescence. The lady can make you go into a trance. Also listen to this “miracle drug” by U2. If you can absorb the lyrics, then there’s nothing like that.

And don’t ask me for the cd. Youtube pe search maar lo khud.

I soo want to write a post.

But then this is a public domain and something holds me back. I know that I can use the password facility for the post but then I want some people to read it unwittingly. I feel like throwing this bean bag over my office cubicle and convince my boss that playing ‘catch the bag’ game ala ‘shot put’ could be the best productive use of time here. He has just asked me to prepare my productivity report on the works till date.

 

If stupidity were a sport, I would be in the cover page of every sport magazine. I have almost perfected the doper’s way of doing things. Looking back, I conclude that things which make you interesting may eventually pull you down. But then my friend says no body is perfect. This guy can sit in France and still read my mind like a newspaper.

 

I really do not deserve the things that I don’t have. I can make a complete ass butt of myself and then expect my friends to be proud of it! But now I plan to find my shell, cave in silently and analyze things. If you feel a red hot pan sticking to your ass, then you got to find out whose name is on the handle.

 

I am not contemplating a suicide. But plan to stop here for some reasons; one of them being the impending report.

 

PS: An aunty gave a head on collision to my hand. A hairline is suspected. Some reactions:

 

1: Kya yaar, are you like doing social work for the medical society. Saare accidents tere saath hi hote hain?

2: hehehehe. Hahahaha. Oh! Sad.

3. kya gaya? Wrist yaa poora haath

4. pee ke tunn hoke gatar mein tapak gaya tha kya

 

Can anybody be more supportive!

 

PPS: Speaking of password protected post, see if you can unlock this post by a friend link http://navdeepjk.wordpress.com/2008/06/10/a-day-in-amsterdam-part-1/ .

 

Hint: We both have a (supposedly) great thing in common. And no its not related to our ever growing expertise at playing with words, then charming young women folks and making them go head over heals… okay I stop

 

See if you can break it. Would be worth an effort.

 

zoink! zoink!

CB, in his first novel wrote somewhere “There are times in your life when you wish the frame to freeze and you could undo what you want”.

 

Note: CB bole to Chetan Bhagat. Referring to people with their initials is fun. I called out loud to my friend to check for PC in 2020. Dear family members took it for a personal computerJ. We obviously know it is Chopra.

 

PC se yaad aaya ‘Harman Baweja’. Read somewhere that people voted him as gay . In fact (sorry PC), his voice inspires me to try for saregamapa auditions

 

Sample this:

 

HB (on radio mirchi): Hey you all you dilli people. This is Harman Baweja on Radio Mirchi 98.3 and its hottt!

Listeners: Puke!

HB: It was overwhelmingly great to see you all turning up for me at the Tata sky challenge and also win easy prizes.

Listeners: Precisely the reason

 

Okay, digressed quite a lot. We move back to that fateful date, 25^th june, 2008 when I almost felt like reaching to CB and say, “freeze this frame”. I was done with my bimonthly affair of “big bro going mehrbaan, allowing his cute smart young bro (all you females here’s a cue) to get himself a t-shirt” when I chose to volunteer for my sisters, struggling at the sari counter for almost half an hour. IITian as we are, we tend to get restless when we are not giving fundaes. With this burning desire to display my saree sense coupled with a complete lack of knowlwdge whatsoever in the domain, I innocently inquired what size of saree they were looking for.

 

What ensued henceforth was a deathly silence forcing me to look up at the counter and find people staring at me with “Which planet brother!”, “When’s your treatment”… etal. For my relatives, this was another proof of abysmal standards of higher education in India. I was hushed hooshed away to men’s section.

 

How on earth is a guy supposed to know that sarees have no size. How can this at all be related to his IIT education! I felt so helpless and utterly amused that I came back to my bro on sofa. We had our dinner then. I ate. They laughed. Then I ate their share too.

 

I am becoming useful day by day. I am both changing and getting changed by people around me. After the kajra re incident, I am a dude at office. I introduced many people to a phenomena called “sud” on Radio Mirchi. “Aggar kissi dilli waley ne nahi suna isse to kripya karke chullu bhar paani mein doob mare”.  This guy can kill you with his jokes.

 

I can now give ‘lowe’ advice to my friends and quite effectively so, until they do no ask me for honest opinions! (ladies, here’s your second hint!)

 

Courtesy a junior of mine, I got re introduced to my old, lost sanskaras . I plan to dive into history books and find the origin of my clan. See if you can help.

 

I have been testified by some people as a certified something. They say that I am moving towards a state where I can even make dead rise from their grave and laugh. (third signal, it is).

 

Chalo bhai we will pack up. Its late at night. We have to get up early. Go to office. Plug in the pen drive. Post it on the blog!

 

PS: a friend of mine wrote this super cool post on ways to circumvent work at office. See if you can contribute ( http://navdeepjk.wordpress.com/).   

 

 

karporate internship

Sonu beta, what are you upto?? ( put some extraaa a’s, t’s and o’s and a typical ramsay brother’s horror flickface to get a feel of my mom’s glorified face as she finds her son toying with his 8 months old nephew’s unruly hairs! )

People can’t just stand me at home giving hair styling tips to a newcommer. 

News Flash:

Have been forced to initiate my month long internship at some firm in noida ( I am all in for gujjar support). some reactions:

Papa: sirf ek mahina… extend karwaale!

Bhai: Yaayy!

School friend: Sahi yaar, great going! what chip would you be designing?

Me: er.. some multitasking media enhancer may be!

College friend: oye dost .. company mein apna naam roshan kiya ki nahi nikala nahi abhi tak unhone. hehehe.

Me: hehe.. yups made sure that they are not coming to campus for placements  

Corporate environment is quite different to the hostel life.  For starters, get some lip reading fundaes to get what is being hushed to you. The secretary almost took me for an abnormal abberation as I passed on an awkward smile to one of her simple query. Kasam se, people speak in such a low tone that you literally need your grandma’s ear plugs.

Hopefully I would get adjusted to this karporate culture. Abhi to I am finding it bhery hard to live in it.

PS: blogging after a while feels good. hopefully I continue

Dear(est) airtel authorities.

This post is a tribute to your “newly found marketing strategies” which is making [all sorts of] waves across the IITG campus [in every sense of the phrase ].

At all those times when you tried reaching this loyal(est) customer of yours to spam enlighten him about a new hot number, a national festival and a hello tune, the T20 series and yet another hello tune… xyz + hello tunes aarghhhh , here are (in simple words) few reasons why he could/did not pick up your call and added 6 bucks to your bellies:

a.) He is in the class, figuring out those * EM theory symbols or ‘HMV: his masters voice’. In such bouts of his “monk like concentration”, he prefers not to dance to the Assamese chart busters. Not that the songs are uncool, you just start off without a warning .

sidenote: * for the uninitiated, thank god that you are not in ece, 3rd yr. period.

b.) He is about to sleep. Is in the I half hour of his sleep. In the I hour. the second hour… and so on. At such times, for everyone, we just hates to be disturbed. With all due respect to your noble urge of augmenting our cell phones with the latesht , we swear to everything that is holy and sane that every time we squint at the vibrating cell and recognize those last ….2001, we feel like doing something so unimaginable which iitians phrase as “equating your mother and sister into one“.

sidenote: If I have refused to pick up your call, it is highly unlikely that I would change my decision in the very next 5 minutes! Not even if you message me the same. Is it not simple to understand! You caveman!!!

And now we have our midsems on. And even though we are whiling out time away [writing a post on you etal...], that is none of your concern…..

beeep ……. and here you are calling me again . Be prepared to hear my tender greetings now. And just bloody try replacing this prerecorded lady with a real life one. I would tell her that it is quite painful to even hypothesize what I actually shamelessly say to you . Your voice is sweet. Leave the job. Please .

Song of the day: ajab si from “om shanti om”. I know this is a “totally uncalled for” declaration, but JLT . My Winamp is begging mercy to switch off the repeat mode. This is a tribute to you my friend .

punked!

Yours truly is still alive. and kicking. and unemployed.

A chance virus [read conjunctivitis] has struck him and now he witnesses the worst form of discrimination. You remember the era when your social science teacher used to drone the lectures with the likes of ambedkars and mohan roys . Some kids repeated after her, took notes and pondered over the emancipation of poor, some er… played book cricket and let go…

redemption time for them. sigh!

Having been quarantined and relegated to his 4X4 cubicle, yours truly has been forced to eke out his living there. Dare he tries to slip out of the asylum and his neighbors are ever ready to oblige him with their comforting “ohh! crap”, “back to ya’ room. now. gooo” and akins. This announcement, I must say is made at such high decibels that small kids of mohallas may soil their chaddis.

Food and water supply is passed onto him under a strict scrutiny of his wing mates, after which, all what is left is crumbled pieces, butter on the plate and some 20 ml liquid . That hospital guy has shown his utmost concern by issuing him [the cheapest available] eye drop and a soothing “bhaiya abhi ek aankh mein hai, kal tak dono mein ho jaaega. Dont worry!”

PS: The “dont worry” tag, strategically put, was recited with such a smugness of an assamese male that it left me dumb founded, dumb struck, dumb stricken and all I could utter was…… “aahh! k! gr8!”

Of course, as you can make out, he is enduring this all [solemn voice. sigh! ].

All what he expects from you now [and this you must] is to device him a way to pass this buck onto a new prey [devilish grin].

I am lovin it!

Never before have I felt so ‘good’ than ‘today’s morning’ when my kid sisters called up. And even before I could get my vocal chords online, they yelled ecstatically, “bhaaaiiiii, kiski rakhi pehle pehni!!”.

Courtesy such sudden exposure to a high freq. sound blob, my nervous system promptly did a trouble shoot, “er..umm… oye, teri waali kaunse color ki thi”, just dared to act diplomatic when I realized they both were on speaker phone!

“Get outta your bed, take a shower and get them on you before you go to college.” Tell me people; Is it just me? or do our relatives [sisters included] have a lie detector installed ? Gone are those days when I used to churn bahanaes pe bahanaes [and that too at alarming frequencies]. Nowadays even before I start to entice someone into my plot, it gets brutally quashed by higher authorities .

Happy Rakhsha Bandhan to you all!

I am back. Yet again [devilish grin, drum rolls, yay!] .

They were pink and purple. Cute little fluffy rakhi colors (worn along with yellow-black -brown dress combo ) which defy all “socially acceptable dress norms” but still make me smile whenever i look at them. And this time for a change [just to prove that i have grown responsible and caring], I couriered them two full dairy milks! And tell you people, respecting my socio-economic conditions [wink wink!], where per capita income is just a bit higher than that of Guatemala’s, such acts are worthy of a Nobel.

In any case, puns apart, life sometime is really sweet and simple. All that my sisters asked were two cadburys (so kind of them!). I still love Jagjeet singh ( gazals, I mean, you perverts…) . Girls in sarees still look ossumm [even when they are of Chakk De fame]. Suimui and Chutala were exceptions though. Exclude that punjabi studd also. Bindiya Naik bhi vamp lagg rahi thi. Okay, Priety Sabarwaal was ossummm. Period.

And even when it is my 3rd year. IIT. Branch ECE; I am still smug and cosy, listening to Jagjeet Singh, scribbling my thoughts to you! And even though many of you love to call me naive, faaltu blogger etal… I can bet the last drop of anything (bear/frooty) that you like, that you kinda missed me . er… ahem… we know sometime this blogger goes into “me, myself, my world” school of thought but for a while he thought that the dwindling ticklers needed some succor .

Though I am not in a habbit of pasting pics from the net, but this one from HT caught my eye (lately!). She probably knew, she was being shot . Thus gave her best. Amazing!

Ordinary afternoon musings….

“Oh my god, this institute is infested with big time despos… Perverts huh…”. She must have cursed before leaving her seat.

 

I am in the computer center. And this girl was just sitting just next to me till my ”occasional swiveling of chair-sneaking a preview” kind of harkatein crossed all the samajik maryaadaein and she left this place showering her blessings . I can’t believe this. She caught me three times in a row. My immediate reaction after getting caught has been that of a brooding nerd, who is just on the verge of discovering the cure for limfursarcoma of the intestine…….. par teen baar range haathon pakde janaa, woh bhi in a row …. pathtically low by any standards!. Man , i need more practice. How would i manage when i am back in delhi

 

But wasn’t that normal. If you are living in a place where the female : male ratio is just above the batting average of Venkatesh Prasad and you still choose to google your technical report rather than appreciating god for this chance seat and this once in a semester opportunity, then I guess you would might as well find Mulayam Singh with his hirsute torso, errotic and Andamaan islands, a nice prospect to spend your life (of course he will be there, don’t worry ) .

 

Anyways her replacement has come. This guy, who looks like some distant kin of Ghatotkachch (hey, Bheem’s son in mahabharat, remember?), I guess is some m.tech or phd. Hats off to these people that even after braving 4 yrs of btech. they have chosen to tread this path for 5 more years (or is it 7?). Now that he has been talking on phone for the last five minutes in god-knows-what-lingo which is not soothing my ears and is disturbing my mann ki shaanti …. i would shut this post and doze off in my dorm room.

 

Bye!!

Sue kar doonga canteen waley ko..

I am going to crib about the latest “loot” incidence which happened to me. Though many people allege that it was rather my “bholi si soorat” which prompted the canteen walaa to try out his newly acquired marketing skills but still, I Rant Therefore I Am.

I was planning to buy another packet of my fav. biscuits, PARle-G (Yess, they now offer you 33% free biscooot), when this canteen walaa enticed me into buying a Bourbon instead, which gives you a free toy car! (this is what he said). Now, the kid in me who had spent his bachpan collecting Tazos and Tattos and Center-fresh cards, got gleefully excited at the prospect of maintaining a swarm of such “chotti chotti cars” and promptly handed over his hard earned 10 rupee note.

par nikla kyaa…. sirf ek pahiyan ! just a mere wheeeeellll

Ab kyaa poori gaadi banane ke liye 10 packet khareedoon ??

What the fugg ! 10 rupayee ka lossss. …… sue kar doonga usse…

Bhaiyon aur behnon, by now i guess you would have got the picture that your dear blogger is suffering from “acute kadki“!. He is tooo aalsi to get some cash from the ATM or has he forgotten his PIN number!! and his endsems are preventing him to try out his time tested strategies on – How to inveigle the other person and extract money . Not to mention that these strategies have stood the test of times and many of them are inspired from our epic bollywood fillums.

The trick is simple.

• Spot the prospective victim. Paint a “Ramsay brother’s movie expression” and try to emulate Himensh Reshamiya’s nasal prowess on the arabic stanzas of “kaho naa kaho“(murder fame). Job’s done.

If this doesn’t works, then fikr naat. Ab thoda “daring” karne kaa hai. Now the game parameters have changed.

• Spot another victim. Get to the previous level, remove off your tee and now emulate Baba Ramdev’s “Bhastrika Pranayaam“. Yesss, now you would see that with that facial expression of an imminent constipation and a physique akin to aishwarya’s left leg you are bound to fetch something

It still doesn’t works?? .

• Then doode, it’s probably me .You are trying on the master himsef . Abort. Try on some other homo-sapien.

So as you have seen, we are self sufficient in every way. It’s just that due to time constraint, we aren’t able to venture out and apply the mantras. And so we type an appeal to you. All those of you reading this blog, we plead you on humanitarian ground to summon that spirit of benevolence and altruism which is shrouded by this materialistic world and divert some of your charity funds to your “internet mitr”.

We would be obliged beyond words and might even write an ode or two in thy honor!!

Of course we shall return you the money asap

What men really want!

This is when you do when you have four dayz loooong holidays!. Velle, as we always are, we thought of trying our hands at plagiarism   
So this one we successfully copied from Jassi bhaiya’s archive:

Enjoy this. 

At last a guy has taken the time to write this all down.  Finally, the guys’ side of the story. (I must admit, it’s pretty good.) We always hear “the rules”  from the female side.  Now here are the rules from the male side. These are our rules!
Please note:  These are all numbered “1″…  ON PURPOSE!

1.  Men ARE not mind readers.

1.  Learn to work the toilet seat.  You’re a big girl.  If it’s up, put it down.  We need it up, you need it down.  You don’t hear us complaining about you leaving it down.

1.  Sunday sports.  It’s like the full moon or the changing of the tides.  You can’t change it, let it be.

1.  Shopping is NOT a sport.  And no, we are never going to think of it that way.

1.  Crying is blackmail.

1.  Ask for what you want. Let us be clear on this one:
Subtle hints do not work!
Strong hints do not work!
Obvious hints do not work!
Just say it!

1.  Yes and No are perfectly acceptable answers to almost every question.

1.  Come to us with a problem ONLY IF you want help solving it.  That’s what we do.  Sympathy is what your girlfriends are for.

1.  A headache that lasts for 17 months is a problem.  See a doctor.

1.  Anything we said 6 months ago is inadmissible in an argument.  In fact, all comments become Null and Void after 7 Days.

1.  If you won’t dress like the Victoria’s Secret girls, DON’T expect us to act like Soap Opera guys.

1.  If you think you’re fat, you probably are. Don’t ask us.

1.  If something we said can be interpreted two ways and one of the ways makes you sad or angry, we meant the other one .

1.  You can either ask us to do something  OR tell us how you want it done. Not both.  If you already know best how to do it, just do it yourself.

1.  Whenever possible, Please say whatever you have to say during commercials.

1.  Christopher Columbus did NOT need directions and neither do we.

1.  ALL men see in ONLY 16 colors, like Windows default settings. Peach, for example, is a fruit, NOT a color.  Pumpkin is also a fruit. We have no idea what Mauve is.

1.  If it itches, it WILL be scratched.  We do that.

1.  If we ask what is wrong and you say “nothing,” we will act like nothing’s wrong. We know that you are lying, but it is just not worth the hassle.

1.  If you ask a question you don’t want an answer to, then Expect an answer you don’t
want to hear.

1.  When we have to go somewhere, absolutely anything you wear is fine… Really.

1.  Don’t ask us what we’re thinking about, unless you are prepared to discuss such topics as football, the shotgun formation, cars or golf.

1  You have ENOUGH clothes.

1.  You have TOO MANY shoes.

1.  I am in shape. Round IS a shape!

1.  Thank you for reading this. Yes, I know, I have to sleep on the couch tonight; But did you know men really don’t mind that?  It’s like camping.

Alcheringa’07…..from the eyes of an organizer!!

I have submitted this post for the “G-newsletter” and hopefully you would be getting the hard copies soon!!. But just as all the publication houses generate the soft copies of the same here is the article!

*—————————————————————————————-*

DISCLAIMER: This article is no attempt to undermine the students’ initiative and works in the Alcheringa’07. Just savor this parody and relish the post.

From: core team_alcheringa….

To: Event organizers…

 

“Thank you for making this alcher, the most memorable alcher ever!!“

………………………blah blah………………….more blah blah…………………….

 

Now tell me honestly as to what would be your first reaction to these disastrous one liners:

Manmohan Singh to be the next MTV anchor or even more worse, Atal Bihari Vajpayee would be hosting the KBC-IV !.

If you find any of these lines unsettling then you can well imagine my condition after the above revelation.I sat down for a while, took a deep breath, quaffed some water, muttered some nice/choicest expletives and then pondered on as to what perhaps made the above person write these lines…

 

No doubt that the students’ enthusiasm was unprecedented and that despite the heavy showers, the team alcheringa made sure that no event gets cancelled, but still the phrase “the most memorable” aroused my insane psyche and thus this article.

 

It goes without saying that courtesy the strategic location of our campus and the joint (secret) coalition with ASU and ULFA, Alcheringa beckons masses, a gist of which you saw this time. Pun intended but it is rumored that soon alcheringa will rope in manthan for some obvious/unquotable reasons.

Below are some noteworthy points compiled from first hand experience and cross-checked from some reliable sources:

• The Ist night saw an err…stupendous performance from the JAZZ artists who were alleged to have come all over from Boston where all what we could decipher was zilch. The night went on from much “hyped and adulating” to “bhai yeh kya gaa raha hai” to “let’s play antakshini”.

 

 

• The events next morning followed their age old legacy where all what you can make out from one are the anchors, participants (if any) and the judges. There is no concept of audientsJ. The announcements went on from (on a very sophisticated note) “The event ***** is scheduled to start by 11:00” to (totally exasperated one) “arre bhai koi to aa jaao” at 12:30.

However it is alleged that the fear of getting “Real Mausambis” as gifts was one of the prime/compelling reason for the sparse participation.

• A much hyped event “WOrdsWorth” witnessed an exemplary response from the public which was so overwhelming in every sense that the organizers have demanded a separate Fest for the same. Spicy n hot topics e.g.: ”mini skirts: a rising phenomena” raked in some real cultural sermons from the quality junta and the organizers got credits for culling out such intellectually stimulating ideas.

(pun intended totally!!!).   

 

• Though I am not a connoisseur of rock music and so won’t comment but our iitg’s rock brethren qualified for the finals of the Rock-o-Phoenix and even clinched the Best Drummer title. Skepticisms ensued.

 

• Remo night sucked (no typos). For a while we were into a delusion that he has come for the extempore (event@wordsworth!) as out of a blue, he started quoting Indira Gandhi, Sania mirza, PT usha, Mother Teresa and even our campus’s fairer sex which definitely by any logic made no sense. Not to mention that people did play antakshini and relished on some old classics, “amma dekh tera munda bigda jaaye”, “didi tera dewar….”.

 

He sang his OCs’, we sang our own delights. He thought it was adulation, we didn’t give a damn about that.

 

The fest ends and thus the article and though there are 13 more things with me to add on but respecting the possibility that further exploits might result in me being lynched I would give this a period.

 

Dilemma mein zindagi-part 2??

Disclaimer (Puhleeeezz do read it):

Some serious conversation transpired between two friends this afternoon.

Yes, you guessed it right. The topic was related to the fairer sex and this blogger was one of the panel members. (ab itna vella time aur kiske pass hota hai!!).

But before I reveal to you the transcript, read this.

In a recent discussion with Jassi bhaiya, we pondered over the growing influence of internet in our life. This fact, that internet is slowly and almost imperceptibly pervading our daily life is an alarming sign. People might disclose some information or share their views on a topic which might seem perfectly innocuous to them today but may become the reason of their nemesis in future.

Now THIS….. consternates us.

The simple fact, that this blogger adulates priety zinta does not means that Amrita Rao (Vivah fame) is a strict “NO”. 

Ab bhaiya life mein compromise toh karna hi padta hai!!!
But what if Amrita searches him out on the orkut and accidentally finds this magnum opus and reads the previous posts. To bhaiya apni toh ho jaaegi naa googly!

So we find this prudent enough not to divulge the names and talk in plural, i.e. in “we” rather that “I”.

THE POST:

So as it happened that we were walking down the campus’s roads discussing about some imminent threats to our peaceful lives (quizzes and assignments).

The discussion then moved over to the search for some succor for this uncertainty in life but then to our utter astonishment, one of us, lets say “A” espoused for commitment in life!!

(yeh who orkut ke homepage waali commitment hai, padai waali nahi).

B, startled at this solution tried to convince his friend that life in uncertainty (matlab shuttle shifts between JLo, Zinta …….) is better and that we should not confuse these two “commitments”. B tried suggesting some motivational bullshits but for no avail.

“A” gave him some real life examples of ppl in our campus who have changed drastically after they met their inamoratas/male-inamoratas. He said that with a life of certainty, you would plan each of your decisions properly and weigh their future impacts with more clarity. You don’t get distracted easily and more over ATTEND classes and DO the assignments rather than INDULGE in this bakchodi and COPY them later.

Sidenote: for the uninitiated, bakchodi is the iit lingo for a totally falltuu talk.

Unexpectedly, “B” was left speechless. For the first time he didn’t probe in the arguments further and instead gave it a good thought. He was somehow able to inveigle the blogger into his charms and so presented his dilemma in front of the readers.

Was “A” right????

 

NOTICE

Just because this blogger has been silent for some time does not means that he is planning to shut the blog. He is currently having a gala (gala-dabaao) time with his mid-sems and will be back soon with more daft and inane posts

 
The blogger is pleased at the rate of the growing number of “clicks” on his blog page and as a token of gratitude, he has taken some time out of his err… busy schedule to intimate you about his current status-quo. However the fact that consternates him is that despite the growing number of visitors, his posts are going off without any comments!!!.

 He cries out loud, looks in bewilderment, quaffs  some water and types an appeal .

Please come out of your “comment maarne se kya farak pad jaaega!!” school of thought and show your gracious presence by leaving a comment

 

Mera number kab aayega!!

UPDATE (Important Notice):

Mera ek matr sapna, my only cherished dream has been broken. The only venture (booble.com) which i had ever dreamed to start has been taken over by some firangi junta. And in their frenzy of doing a laudable social work (imparting *** education) they forgot to do justice to my Bob. Curses be on them @#%#!!!%!%#^

We (me and bob) are in a state of mourning. Read now……..
——————————————————————————————–
I have just picked up a new book “The Google Story“. It’s turning out to be a nice read. It’s a journey of two Standford Geeks pursuing their love for work and dream of integrating the world’s knowledge which finally gave birth to the all ubiquitous phenomena “goggling” (the spell check isn’t showing an error so i guess it has already become a verb!).

Though i still haven’t completed it, have barely reached the fourth chapter but i couldn’t stop myself from writing on it. It’s a different book.

Just few days back i was listening to Steve Jobs’s (is angrezi ki to ******, ab Jobs’s ko kaise pronounce karoge!!) speech: “Stay Hungry Stay Foolish” and then today this magnum opus. Phrases like “Find your calling“, “Run before your dreams” are intriguing me!. The last time i heard such esoteric kinda stuffs was during my JEE preparation. When my seniors and mentors used to wax eloquence on the “crystal clear clarity” one needs to imbibe to crack physics. Some even preached about transcending time, space while solving the complex maths.

So while i was having a hard time to even find “the acceleration of a block sliding down an incline”, these geeks used to prescribe me MAHA-GRANTHS like Irodov and Resnik & Halliday :-0.

But what should really intrigue you and me as of now is this ek-sau-ek rupaye ka sawaal ki “Mera/Tera number kab aayega?”

While i was reading about the genesis of this idea, the testimonies of some of their peers, childhood friends, aunts, uncles, unke padosi…etc etc. really intrigued me!!

Some relative of theirs quoted that Larry had a flare of computers since his childhood days. He used to type his bro’s holiday assgn. and spent time in fiddling with the other applications on board.

” ae google waaley bhaiya, main bhi bachpan mein compu. par ‘dave’ khelta tha!…sachchi. Aur teacher ko maska lagaane ke liye uske assgn, bhi type karta tha!!….saala saari zindagi typing mein chale gayi…..*mera number kab aayega* “.

“They made a miniature version of a computer using lego toys?!@#$”

“I have been a staunch lover of “Bob-The Builder” all through my life. Bhaiyo yeh lego toys ki dunia kaa baadshah hai!!…Mujhe bhi Booble.com banani hai par kambakht censor board naam pass hi nahi kar raha hai.“

“They used to carry themselves with such energy and enthusiasm that it was a treat to listen to their absurd yet audacious claims”

“amma! yaar koi hamaari bhi sune.Visit my campus in weekends and witness the Daruu Parties. Brute, raw talent, ekdum desi taazagi you bet. Aur jahan tak enthu ki baat hai to bhaisaab kasam Baba Poddar ki armaan hamaare bhi kam nahi hai. Sheik chilli aur Mungeri lal bhi kaamp jaaye humein sochta hua dekh kar……par bhai koi suno toh sahi “

Mera number kab aayega??

CLOSE UP jingle!!

I got this one from some site(see i do lotta research for you ppl). And see i am honest enough not to claim this one!!. Though a more honest and sane work would have been to straight away give you the link but for now ,this much charity is enough. bhaiya hamein bhi toh apni blog site bharni hai!!

bhaiyon pleeeejjjj usi tone mein gaaiyega!

Close up jingle
Kya aap engineering karte hai?..ae ae ae..
Ya padhne se darte hain? (again) ae ae ae…

Paper khali chodte hain? (ab plzz carry on the same tune)
Toh copy kyun nahi karte hain…

Aage peeche bench khaali hai? Oh noo
Toh chits tayar kyun nahi karte hain?

Bas chauggi ka hi khel hai!!!
Toh copy kyun nahi karte hain?

Chits banane se darte hain?
Toh engineering kyun karte hain?

The aquatics meet-2006.

“….exuberance , brute talent , relentless fervour, indomitable spirits and of equal measure anguish , frustation , dissapointments …… it’s all here …… these vicarious feelings just getting real ……. as we wait for the “MAHAKUMBH”, Inter IIT sports-meet to arrive !! ” – an excerpt from an article i wrote for the “g”-magazine.

But at that time these energetic words were merely used to spice up the write up , and i seriously didn’t know their gravity (reason: never seen an inter b4 ).

But yesterday when i witnessed the “inter IIT aquatics meet “…… i could feel them ……i could see that glow in the mumbaians as they literally trounced delhi in the water polo (12:1) …. i could sense that hysteria induced among the bombay junta , crying “Go Bombay!!”…… and the “Team Bombay” obliging them with yet another goal

ohh god !! how i wish i could be more than just friends with the aqua !! but alas! my rendezvous with H2O are limited to _______________ , hey! and now don’t ask me to fill this blank

kaizan????!!!!!

hey, does the name sounds a bit esoteric???
go ahead read on..;)
ab kya karta , wasn’t getting any regular stereotype name working for this blog-site…..
so when i was thinkin hard to get a catchy name for this, i got reminded of the latest big thing dat happened to me this sem here at iitg.
n this was the “kaizan” workshop at “techniche~2006″…….i was just mesmerized, enthralled……blah blah…..by the thought provoking speech of the ceo of “kaizan institute”.

will tell you sometimes later the theory he was expounding on (n might add on my own expert comments…..hehe)

but in a nut shell, it was about constantly n consciously elevating the status of ur life……n if u allow me to go a bit philosophical he hinted at
“LIVING” the life n not merely “EXISTING”..
BIG THOUGHT!!!

oh!! n by the way
P.S.:kaizan is a japanese word for “constant and never ending improvement !!”

so wid this i start my new venture “BLOGGING”
P.S:waise this newly deve. hobby is courtesy some of my best-est frnds, who did some utter nuisance n i had to delete my orkut a/c n join this blogroll to pour in out mai creativity !!!.