Being a non-alcoholic, this is the only other way i know to get......

For a woman..

2007-03-10T15:31:00.000-08:00

It did taste like salt. It was rolling all down my wretched face. Not over a woman. I have taken away the journey i had given her. I wiped my moist cheeks not knowing when it will flow over again. I offered her pain when i had nothing to give.It drips again, my thumb brushes it aside. I let her suffer for what i had done. Not a clown anymore? No, i doubt if i had ever been one. The eyes, they keep shrinking, pressing it out. I have not been living by any moral standards, not by any ideals. If it has hurt someone so much, i doubt if i have ever been living. I cannot see, they are standing right on the edges of my eyelashes, forming spheres, i see them now, right now. Not long time ago, i hurt someone, I did not know then. I guess i am capable of it, i believe so now. They do not need anyone's help, not mine anyways. I could see her face when she said 'Game over'.I had killed everything that had come into existence from the day we met. For some time my cheeks have been dry.I have given her a night of agony. How will i ever forgive myself? I have sinned. So it is me, as empty as that. So it is my self and i cannot even ask for forgiveness, for it is only for those who repent their sins. I do not even know mine. I am just the same ordinary 'guy' .I do not live by any codes, i have none at all. I have proved her wrong. I think that is it. Its cold! What can i do, to set it straight? Just keep it shut and no one ever shall feel any better.

I swear by the lady i love.I never meant to hurt anyone. When i cry, it is not for my wound but for hers. I was there, wasn't i? Didn't i always fool around? I want everyone to laugh. Everyone knows that! Was it a crime? She said so, i believe her, and she hasn't given me any reason to think otherwise. I never thought i could hurt anyone so bad. She wanted it to end; i told her i won't shed a drop. This way, i wailed all night. No one has seen me so unarmed.I refuse to use stronger words. Could i be capable of such an act? Could i repel someone so much? I am blinded, i cannot see the guilt.

All this for someone i have seen and talked to. I shudder to think of Her. What if i hurt or give her pain? How can i bare to see her cry? Tears in those eyes, i will want to tear myself apart. She, of all persons should be laughing and smiling, with the sun beating on her hair. I did not know the reason or didn't have one. Now i know why i stopped myself. I shall let her go, not me, not this cold-hearted bastard.

I shall go to sleep, I shall clutch my blankets hard. Something I can hold on to. May be I'll get up tomorrow and all this shall be a dream. I know it is reality. But I cannot help thinking it is just me. Thus, I shall stand alone. I shall leave everyone to mend their own walls. But why stand at all, for you are hurting the legs?

FOSSome!

2007-03-10T13:24:00.000-08:00

"I'd give a big thumbs up to the spirit and the enthusiasm of the students. The organizers, all students, showed phenomenal passion and zeal. The hospitality was near perfect. There was always someone to take care of our needs." - by Kiruba. He had the biggest turn-out in FOSS.NITC. Aryabhatta was full. Trisha became more famous in kerala.

"NITC's FOSS event has grown in stature, and is quickly becoming one of the recognized FOSS events in India, along with Gnunify, Freedel and of course FOSS.IN....." - by Atul.

In quote and quote, by toolz (Interesting story how he got this name):

"Give me net or let me die"
"Ask not what you can do for the country, ask what's for lunch

His talk 'Foss and Business' was an eye-opener for lot of us, i have never listened to any lecture so hard, but ,missed lots of it b'cos of orgy. Toolz told me he'll upload the presentations on his site.

"As there was a large number of talks, not only had they to be `parallelized', but they also had to be scheduled from 8:30 in the morning to 10 O'clock at night! Kiruba Shankar's talk on blogging was the late night `hit'".-Pramod-ce

"How in such a short span of time these NITC Folks have managed to make FOSS.NITC a nationwide Community event”. Keep it up guys." - TuxManiac Aanjhan

"There was a great number of creative contribution from the delegates which made the one and a half hour to be the most contributed time in the FCI's history.Talking technical is an art, and its a fact. Thanks to the FOSS event @ NITC for making me understand that." - Hiran

"The organizers, students belonging to various branches in NITC, did a very nice job. This is their 3rd year of conducting the FOSS meet and they did show signs of maturity." - Parthan

"This time FOSS.NITC was really big with 40 speakers, 3 days full of FOSS activity."-Kushal

Shreyas hasn't updated his blog. RadioVerve was good and both his talks had packed halls. Shreyas and Tejas did show some child stuff with gmail and i bet Atul was waiting to pounce, steal Tejas's password.(for what VP of Geodesic has better work).
~~WIKIFACT: Password question of tejas 'What is my first girlfriend's dad's name?'~~

Pradeepto still hasn't blogged, but he too will have stories to tell about Kenneth Gonzalves who couldn't make it. Pradeepto was voted as 'The Most Popular Speaker'. He was infact one amongst us. Khurana and Pradeepto had a good time...really.

JACE was holied in campus. Hehe! His talk was much more enjoyed by Blog enthus in campus. Wish it had lasted longer. 'The beast was without his weapon, right then, i took mine and shot him down.'
His laptop was eyed by so many. Crisp and dreamy!

Monster on FOSS. A few more pictures....

We thank all the sponsors: IT Kerala Mission, IBM, Wipro, Idea,TTDC,Servo and the Stage-in-charge :Subashree ma'am & K.P.M. sir. Can you please address my attendance? Kiruba told us 'This is good college publicity, you must be paid for it'. True, all we ask is bring the attendance to mutual consultation.

'This is outrageous pricing! Come let us start extracashew.in"-Kiruba. "Radioverve will play music when you open the damn site"-Shreyas.

On the right, is Tejas. He is doing his 2nd year engg at PESIT,Bangalore.That made some heads turn.

That was Wipro with MS windows.This is FOSS, give me a break!

Obviously, there were loop-holes in the event. Parellel sessions gave delegates variety and the crowd was confused where to go. Thus turn-out was less on the halls. Wireless-Fidelity is not that important considered to tiling obselte places, raising walls etc. Publicity inside kerala was less. The blogging sessions were good and i threw up both names.

Mamachchans was good and evreyone liked it. Thanks Cheta! I met two of the best bloggers in the country. Kalyan Verma didn't turn up this time, due to his wildlife photography, bu there was JACE.So many minds, it was real fun.

Photo sets:
Tuxie; Hiran; JACE; Wingers (mine)

Events lined up...

2007-02-22T22:25:00.000-08:00

Say 'hello' to one of the fools who tried honesty and failed. This weekend is WIKICAMP '07 . Sebastian and myself both 'Wiki Enthus' thought of leaving for Chennai. There is a small hitch there, we might have to miss our sessionals (A 4-day event conducted by the biggest 'club' in college with the biggest turn-out beating L&D,IPF,NSS &ICA in 'handicapped match). Kiruba,(people, Jimmy Wales is put up in his place for the next 2-days) as soon as he knew we organized events like quizzes, he asked us to conduct an audience Quiz in the CAMP.

Mr.Harichandran here, decides to approach the H.O.D. of Mechanical Engineering Department. The letter will be scanned and uploaded.H.O.D asks us to run to FA,SA..and come back. We get all the signs and endure all the scares and come back to H.O.D in the midst of all other exams (BTW on that, front the scores will remind of scorelines of various italian teams). Our H.O.D believes that the 20 mark sessional which i am going to churn out on monday is more important than the meet in Chennai. JIMBO you ain't that famous, man! Now, i have to mail Kiruba the bad news.

But, I should say that H.O.D was considerate enough to point out trains that start from Chennai.Infact, i think he has made it a point to look up the train timings.Kudos to MED.Hopefully, the authorities reduce the red-tapism involved before the rejection. (i am not polite just because i am afraid this blog will be read by some faculty).

Anyways Kiruba, Sagaro & Co will land up in NIT, Calicut for the FOSS. This time around the Budget is around 3.2 lakhs from last years 1 lakh. The quantity and quality of speakers is really good. 40 speakers in all and the Chief Minister of Kerala will inaugurate the event.

March 14-17,2007 is RAGAM.Shaan is the major attraction in Ragam.Also check out the Ragamblog.

I do not think it is possible to be there at both the places, at the same time eh?

A shot through the head....

2006-11-27T14:50:00.000-08:00

Smoke was spiraling up the sky. The streets were empty. Gunshots were heard from all directions, only to be broken by silence, thin deafening silence. The whole town looked brown, the mountains, houses, mud-roads…. everything. Up ahead, a gate flung open and Khader Bhai was thrown into the dusty road.

Khader rolled over to the other side of the road and lay there still. Men wearing black uniforms, holding Kalashnikov rifles rush out through the gate. One of them grabs Khader by his long hair and lifts him up. The blood flowed from his cheeks. His handsome face was smeared with dust and blood. His upper lip had a deep cut and one of his eyes were swollen red.

When the guard pulled him up, Khader kneeled on the ground. It was dusk. The sun slanted its rays on his majestic long hair. A cool breeze ruffled his hair and blew away his white shirt, exposing his chest. After some shoving and pushing he was bought to the middle of the road. His glance threw a chill down the soldiers’ spine. On a fair-battle he would showed them how much of a man he was. But he knew, in this world the phrase ‘fair-battle’ is an oxymoron. His eyes were made of pure steel. It held no fear, no pity. Only love can evoke such strong emotions. The eyes were piercing. His chest was swelling with pride.

Khader recited the verses of Koran one last time. He had never missed a namaz as far as he can remember. The eyes closed and he mouthed ‘Inshallah’. The soldier caught him by the throat and drew the Kalashnikov up. The butt was bought down hard on his head. Khader slumped to the ground.

The other soldiers had to hold him. The one who hit him, outstretched his arms and withdrew a 0.45 caliber pistol from his holster. It was brought down tracing an arc and placed it on Khader’s head. The silence raged on like a monster. Khader flinched a little. Like everybody he tried to see his life in his eyes. His childhood days, school, house, mango trees….everything flew past his eyes. He had loved only two things in his life, Afghanistan and a woman. One is dead and the other he hopes will survive. The last earthly thing he glanced was the sun. It was half-set. It threw a dusky light across his face. It was beautiful.He was going to die in peace. The glint of the sun shone across the barrel. The barrel was pressed against the back of his head. The soldier looked at his watch and pressed the trigger. Khader was smiling when the bullet hit him. Peace at last!

I was there that day. I saw the whole thing happen. I have sinned a great deal. Bullet blames the gun, gun blames the soldier and soldier blames khuda. I could’ve been the bullet, the gun or the soldier. But i was Khuda, the Lord. I watched all this happen and I live to tell the tale. I have sinned, terribly sinned.

( Idea from a few books i was reading. The scene has been reconstructed .The words are mine)

Inspires Excellence.

2006-11-26T11:13:00.000-08:00

The Skyline of Mumbai. It is here that we can see and feel reality. This is a salute to those Dhabbawallas', Cobblers, Train- drivers', Architects, Engineers, Writers, Actors, Businessmen, Bhai's and all others who value their work and work on the highest of morals. There are people who do not believe in the city, people who go around with smiling-masks everyday, people who take advantage of the charity of the others, people who run just because they see other runnning.Thats the grim side of reality for you.

Anyways Mumbai, I love you!

Are the pieces falling into place?

2006-10-03T22:51:00.000-07:00

Have i got all that i want? Is the excruciating long wait over? I have hope and nothing else. Pray for me.

An aspiring Engineer at work.

2006-09-03T11:48:00.000-07:00

The Prof. comes to class. He stands at the dais waiting for the kill. Young minds brace themselves for another war. They have defeat written all over their faces. Can they last? The words start coming like arrows. They will not last long.Its time. One by one, their heads fall down. They did not even fight, it was matter of seconds and all that lay in the battlefield were closed minds.
The jet of arrows stopped for a second, the smoke cleared and there was a young mighty boy. His head rose like a soldier. He was the last man standing, a true knight who won the battle for the whole of student-kind. He came prepared to class with a pillow and a book 'Plays by Mahesh Dattani'. He is there in everyone of you, open your eyes to close them. It better to sleep knowingly rather than unkowingly.

Why?
My dad always told me ' excellence is the only pursuit that is worth the effort'. I believe that soft pillows are excellent compared to hard wooden benches.

When?
I was sleeping in my room. My room-mate woke me up and asked me to attend the lecture. I decided to continue my precious sleep over there. I love the blue fluffy cover.

What?
This word followed by a few words about my inefficiency, aimlessness, goalessness etc. will be my dad's reaction when he sees this picture.

Why again?
Won myself 50 bucks, got publicity, made people laugh, had fun!

Where?
MSMT (Machining science and Machine tools, i think i've got it right). I pity the prof. but i just hate the subject. I automatically get up when number 36 answers his roll call. i am 37.

Hope, i inspired a lot of youngsters. the Prof. promised a 3 hour lecture one saturday. It's tough to smuggle in a mattress to class unnoticed.

Reasons i'd thought i'll give if i had been caught

- It was lying in the class, it is not mine.He'll believe cos' no one can believe that students will come to class equipped with a pillow.

- I have osteoperosis. My bones are too brittle and they might crumble when rested against hard surfaces.

- Tell him the truth, get suspended even worse expelled. Then go on and change the history of the world. Years later, people will talk about this incident and loads of people will get inspired. Realisation will dawn to them, that life is not all about marks and a job.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust...

2006-08-05T11:14:00.000-07:00

The road from his house glistened in the rain. It is a belief that when someone great passes away, it rains. The mist was heavy. Silence hung in the air, without reason. We saw it coming towards us. Not a word was spoken for the past hour or so. What was there to be spoken or heard? Some wailing reached my ears, I looked up to the sky. I wasn’t looking for someone who was not there; I was trying to hold back my tears. The gates opened and the van went in.

They asked us to see his face for one last time. I did. I thought of the times we were together. If only I had known. I offered him my salutations; it was all that I could offer, to him and his family. Like a true ‘Hindu’ I fell down in front of him. I lay there with my eyes closed, my hands cupped and with my arms outstretched. I didn’t realize then, that I was to give, not to ask. My friends followed the suit. We lay still, in mourning. We rose like brothers and wept like men. One of us was taken away. They carried him to the van, covered his face with a black-satin cloth. A cloth was all it took!

The nine of us walked to the graveyard. We took the shorter route. As we roamed towards the cemetery, we caught each others glances. The eyes showed no hope, no future. It showed loneliness and loss. We then realized there was never a shepherd, but only us and him. I looked back time and again. Maybe, he was still back there sitting on his bean bag, munching on his cream bun. The van was there before us, it had already started unloading the coffin. We offered to carry and they told we were too young. One of my friends smiled at this, a tear drop fell from his cheek. They carried him across the gate and we were left behind. We couldn’t follow him onto to death. He had taken the stairway to heaven. We stood there not knowing what had to be done.
Then a small boy came running towards us. He looked familiar. He asked us to follow him. Before I could think, my feet started following him. We ran after him. For a fleeting glimpse it was like the old days. We ran like the wind, breaking all barriers. Up the curvy roads we ran, till we came upon a peak. From there we could see the whole cemetery, every inch of it. Lines of tombstones and crosses lay in front of us. Right in the centre, there was a gathering. We realized then it was not burial.
We stood there against the backdrop of a morning sky.The sun shone brightly behind us.We saw it all without the blink of an eye. It was hope that had dawned. A new chapter that was to begin.The boy stood along with us. He must have seen this happen a lot of times. We shed the boy in us then, grew up into men. Men, who shed tears, who made sure for every drop of tear we shed we’ll will make Him pay. The fire that burned in us then, was a fire that will rage on for the rest of our lives. We shall bring down those barriers that make us mere mortals. We shall tear away those fabrics that arrested him with fire. We will come to claim him, then be prepared, we will not beg nor will we ask. We shall come with our swords brandished. We seek neither vengeance nor vendetta. We seek blood, we seek your life. Await the sound of the hooves. When we are ready we shall come to kill.

Reasons, you gave us none
But we, shall give you one.
Not as silent whispers,
But as strong voices,
him, him, him....

Bowling for Kids

2006-07-06T04:16:00.000-07:00

My cousin sister is in her primary school.She was preparing for a math exam. I asked her a few easy questions which she answered.Then threw some tough ones which she tried to answer.I thought i should 'advice' her to study real hard and score high marks.But, then i did study hard and it has not done wonders to my life.Maybe, i should ask her to work smart.I doubt if she knew what smart work was.So, the question is what really should i tell her.

"I wouldn't tell them anything, infact i would sit by the fireplace and listen to them all day long.That is what they need and thats exactly what they are starved of." - Marolyn Manson.

Let them play in the sands without any fear.
Let them dance in the rain without any concerns of catching a cold.
Let the laugh without any fear over the smallest trivialties of life.
Let them dream about flying like their superheroes.
Let them do things just for the sake of having fun.
Let them have the greatest of friends for playing a game of hide and seek.

Give them a childhood that they shall cherish and remember.Give them an childhood without voilence, guns, terrorism, killing, massacres, money, drugs, alcohol, cigarettes.Give them mango trees to climb and mangoes to pluck, along with which a neighbour, to chase them around.
Give them great books to read and movies to watch.Give them a culture to lean on to.Give them education and give them a greener earth.Beyond all this, give them your ears and all your love.

I want to see them smile and laugh.Every act of theirs which brings so much laughter.There are no races, no religion, no sects they are children.
If not for anybody else, let us give them a future.Isn't that something to fight for ?Isn't that worth living for?

Note:6 kids die in a tragic van accident near Cuddalore.14 die elsewhere in korea.Media tells me why some really dumb idiotic celebrity got kissed by another moron.They conduct really pathetic debates which has not point and no real use.Don't tell me it is for entertainment.They have started to air trailers of movies.Abhishek bachchan reads out news in view of advertising his film.

I wish NDTV editor or whoever is incharge for this outrageous activities, dies out of hunger in the streets of his hometown.Let him know that the means are as important as the ends.Let all those losers who read newspapers which reports bollywood gossip in their front-page, have a calamity in their life and leave them uncared then on. These readers are sinners too.

Leave my dad alone!

2006-06-23T12:40:00.000-07:00

It was a hot friday afternoon. I was watching an episode of 'Everybody Loves Raymond' on my computer. I had my headphones on. So, for my dad, it was like a madman laughing without a reason.He had taken the evening off to catch up on his sleep. The night before, the Samba boys had kept him awake. He came over to my room and gestured with his face. The noise was loud enough for him to hear it from my headphones.
He sat down in the bed and looked at the screen. This was not one of those occasion where i didn't want him to look at the monitor. I switched into speaker mode and put aside the headphones. I was supposed to do it, but i do not know who supposed so. He was intrigued by the laughter in the background.He told me 'It was his job and not theirs'. I feel that grown up men don't want to like certain things. Sometimes, they don't even give it a chance. That Day, i asked him to give it a chance.
It was a long time since we've had fun together. Infact i don't remember the last time. I hope it is just my memory. It could've been an episode of dating, like many others or it could've been the one with parties.But due to no 'Particular' reason it involved Raymond and his cute son Jeffry. Slowly, he started warming up and picking the tempo.When Raymond shouted at jeffrey, he saw a lot of himself. When Jeffrey fooled around with the basketball, i saw a lot of myself. When Raymond and jeffrey talked to each other, we saw a lot of what wasn't ourselves. Ray spoke to us so easily thru his show.I got a call on my mobile, i switched my moblie off. I hoped that the mobile, door-bell, alarm and every frigging distracting object kept its nouth shut. It was a 'moment', i wanted it to last.
When jeffrey's friend asked jeffrey 'Is that man sitting over there, your dad?'pointing to raymond. Jeffery shook his head.I laughed so hard that i spilt tea all over myself.My dad reached for my head and patted me.The spilling was just an excuse. It was all happening in slow motion. We both owned something very precious and this was the way to honour it.My dad and me, laughing in front of a small screen as if ......Now you know what they mean, when they say 'They have run out of comparisons'.I wished that the episode had gone on, maybe for the rest of our lives.However, it did end, but i hope, ours never will.
I would give anything to sit with my dad and watch the sun go down. Our hands holding on to cold beer. Laughing and smiling.His hands over my shoulders. I, his support and he, my teacher.This is my dad. The man who gave his heart, nerve and sinew for my life.The man who wished that i would grow up into the happiest man on earth.The man, who swore to live his life on the greatest of ideals.If only i could honour him.There is also this man who doesn't give things a shot, who doesn't enjoy everything about his life, who never shows himself. I want that man to leave my dad alone. Amen!

REC, Mukkam, Keri, keri!

2006-06-21T11:43:00.000-07:00

( Author moved on to Calicut to do his Under-Graduation. Born in Chennai and thoroughly spoilt by his parent’s affection, he now cautiously welcomes his college life. Surprisingly, his virginity is still intact. Thus, a new chapter began, a new town remained unexplored in front of him, a new language to be learnt, gestured and spoken, a new species of women who will alter his sexual preferences.)

The air smelt fresh. The stiff breeze kept ruffling my hair. The grey overcoat i wore, fluttered in the wind. I put my bags down and waited for the bus. My hands reached for my pockets and my back inclined against a pillar. The skies were painted dark grey. The roads were glistening and running over them were white lines which were marked to perfection. The mountains and the greenery gave finesse to the portrait, which looked every bit magnificent. But, I felt these were cold hands of a city which tried not to hate an immigrant.

I had once read that memories were a sequence of images which could be felt. I wished that the sunrays would slant the same, when i woke up. I longed for that warm coffee and the morning paper. I stared into the distance and saw the bus coming. Those days are long gone, i thought. The bus came to a screeching halt. The conductor started shouting “REC Mukkam, Keri, Keri”. Bus journeys in Kerala are very similar to Bungee jumping. It was very difficult for me to understand why people jump of cliffs, putting their life in hands of a rope. Here, your life is in the hands and legs of a driver whose career in Air Force was cut short. The way he would pick gaps would attract raised eyebrows from any Auto-Rickshaw (Rick) driver in my town.

I got into the bus to find myself without a seat. I stood like a sea-farer without any knowledge about the storm that is about to strike. The bus gathered speed and hurtled past the country side.The lush green trees and the smell of rain in the air. Music was played on-board which was a song from the only Malayalam movie seen by every malayali has seen.Manichithrathazh.I was familiar to the song but that was the last thing to which i was paying attention. I thought the driver was driving on a one-way. I had come to this conclusion based on the width of the road, which couldn't have housed more than one bus. This was untill, a bus came from the other side.I thought it was impossible to see daylight on the other end of the bus. But with the greatest of ease we went past all the traffic coming from the opposite side.
He apparently feels that the brakes might get injured on pressing and it is not the same case for the accelerator. Every time the bus came to a halt, i would be launched into the air.When the bus accelerates again, the door closes without any human interference.As simple as that. Just as in football, where the attacker beats all the defenders and scores the goal, the driver goes thru the traffic and delivers us to our destination. Maybe in one piece.

It was an unforgettable journey. I thanked god that i had survived an attempt on my life. The conductor gave me a nod which told me that this had been the first touch of Ragging. What i didn't realise then, that the bus driver's knowledge on mechanics would be much more than my own after 4 years of intensive study.(I blame nobody but myself.)

DUNIYA GORY HAI !

2006-06-14T11:28:00.000-07:00

ESPN has bagged the rights of an International sporting event for the first time. The channel had 'Indianized' itself for its Indian viewers by airing certain programs in Hindi and giving everything an Indian feel.
So for the FIFA world cup'06 they have got Harsha Bogle the host. His ignorance about the game can only be matched by his baldness, which is losing out fast. He prefers calling teams by their jersy colour and players by their numbers. Whenever he makes up a simile which involves cricket, Jerry Armstrong (British commentator) starts thinking really hard "Should i laugh or not? Is this a funny hindi movie dialogue or Is this a reference to some cricket player's anatomy?'. He is sure about the fact that the game can be played with one's legs apart from that he is pretty much the-girl-who-heard-about-world-cup-and-came-on-to-support-brazil incarnation.
Then, everyday at 11.45 football lovers make sure they switch off the TV. They do not change channels and wait for the match to start. 'Duniya Goal Hai', with a pun that ranks right up there with 'Are yu relax singh' and 'Is this Ranchi?', has two hosts named Ranvir and Ajay. They can talk, so that accounts for one of their senses, the rest i am not sure of. The lean guy sometimes understands that 'in silence lies their honour' but the fat guy has a whole new concept of humour. Hope, the producers didn't have Laurel and Hardy in mind when they chose these two. To think on those lines, i doubt if they had something called the mind at all.
They also have this Rat-Race where they let a rat in a box. The rat through its athletic prowess predicts the winner of the match. I could compare this with the Tarot reader of Set Max, which complete my description about the 'Rat race'. I hope this is an improptu act, if not, i hope not to see the day when they do one.
Indianizing involves making it another unbearable bollywood masala flick. The hosts knowledge about the game is smaller than the smallest of mouth organ (yeah, the one which makes sound). It is like wrapping a chocolate up with tissues used in our bathroom. We all like the chocolate, what else can we do, wash it in the sink and have it.
Now, i am having the chocolate. I tastes, well somewhat bitter.So how does the god-fearing Indian go about now."I thank GOD and ESPN for giving me the chocolate and that too wrapped, there are millions who can't even get this, Thank GOD, Thank ESPN"

Gave them the index and got back the middle!

2006-06-08T01:52:00.000-07:00

I am 19 years old. From, this election onwards my opinion counted, so i decided to vote. My own clock, which my parents thought ran a few hours late, prevented me from getting up in the morning and going to the booth. People hate getting out of their houses during the afternoon .So, to avoid the long queue i decided i go in the afternoon.
I dressed up casually. Mobile, wallet, watch and house keys; everything that was required. I got out of my house and locked the door. Suddenly, i reached for my wallet, opened it and checked whether my Voter ID was there, even thougth i was sure it was there. I strolled to the booth, feeling proud to be a citizen of this country. I beamed a smile at every uncle, aunt and babe who passed by. I was going to give them my finger and that is my duty.

As soon as i reached the booth the cop frisked me. I keep asking myself, why can't these guys grow up. There were other places where i could hide things and smuggle them in.I won't conceal a gun in my pocket. The queue wasn't all that long.There were 8 people ahead in the line. I was proud of my timing, my parents told me they had 16 in their line. One by one they voted.I hadn't made up my mind. There was Lp, then Captain , whose manifesto i liked. But Amma didn't do all that bad, infact, she did pretty well with Tsunami and floods. DMK wasn't on my mind. I kept beaming my smile at all those who had voted and were coming out. Then my chance came, i walked in. I was about to vote for the first time in my life. I was running out of time, i had to make up my mind. 'Lp' i finally made up my mind. When i was done, i came out and the queue had become longer.

Somewhere in the middle of the queue, a face of a boy caught my attention. I had seen him before.Infact, i had seen him only a few minutes before. Then it struck me, that it was someone who had already voted. I remember his face well, because he had beamed me a bigger smile at me in return. For a moment i considered walking upto him. Then i considered again, for he might belong to some youth wing. I walked up slowly to the lady who checked out cards and showed her this guy's face. Even she remembered that this boy had already voted. We both walked up to the police and told him the situation. He made some enquiries of his own. He walked up to me and asked me whether i'll be ready to give a statement in the station.Without the slightest of hesitation, i told yes. The Inspector told us that we can catch the culprit only when he is about to vote.We were waiting to pounce.

As he walked up to the counter, the inspector stepped forward. I was expecting dialogue's like 'You are under arrest', 'You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be produced against you in the court of law'. The inspector went on like 'Enna pa panrae?' (What are you doing?). The boy was a great actor, i thought. He gave a sarcastic smile and told that he was voting. The inspector then reminded him that he had already voted. The smile and the sarcasm increased a bit more. 'Which acting school is he from?' i thought. Inspector asked him to step aside as he tried to tke control of the situation. The news had already spread, i guessed. Fingers were being pointed at me. I was going to be their hero, i thought.

The inspector took him aside for questioning. The boy then pulled something out of his pocket and gave it to the inspector. The inspector started laughing.I should've expected this. The boy had bribed the inspector.I decided that i won't let this happen.As i walked up to inspector, the boy walked up to the booth. He voted and walked away towards the gate. I started shouting at the inspector. Corruption, India, Honesty.. .. i was rambling on and on. The inspector was smiling. Hypocrites, i hate them. Bastards! He was calling me forward, simultaneoulsy reaching for his wallet. Was he trying to bribe me? He was still smiling and grinning. He lifted something out of his pocket and was trying to show it to me. I backed myself against the wall and decided to kick him or hit him or whatever i can.

I saw then, that his hands didn't have money.He was about to show me a photo. It was a family photo of two boys and their parents. Behind the shoulders of the inspector, i saw two boys walking towards me. They walked past me and then walked up to the centre of the booth.Everyone started pointing fingers at me and laughing. So far, for the hero.

The inspector and the twins beamed their biggest smile at me.

Barefoot in the sands!

2006-06-01T11:45:00.000-07:00

A long time ago,we had walked along these shores.We played in its sands, without fear and doubt. Young we were, we enjoyed without guilt.We've grown up into men who promise to keep in touch.We never mean when we say that, it is just courtesy.

We stands at the shores and look back at those trails.They have grown big as we walked.Now we cannot stay together anymore.We have our own ships to sail, own seas to explore.

Note: This was a year ago at Bese beach.Camera clicked in my hands.

A Tribute to Poongodhai.

2006-05-31T10:55:00.000-07:00

I was barely an year old. I had not learnt to walk then but i could crawl. My hands inspected anything that was lying within an arms distance. First, my hands then the taste-buds would inspect the object. Just when the object is about to touch my tongue, my mom’s hands would come swishing down to take it away.

One day she was sitting on the rocking chair sewing a piece of cloth. The spectacles hung precariously on the edge of her nose.I spotted a gleaming object and started crawling towards it. After the survey, i decided it was safe to be handled. As soon as i picked it up, my mother's eyes looked at me. Now it reminds me of 'The eye' in the 'Lord of the rings' movie.The way it turns when Frodo wears the ring. She gave me this go-ahead-and-try-it stare.She trusted me not to lick it. This lowered my courage and she became confident that the sharpener will be put down.That is where she eased the glare and i swallowed the sharpener.My mother calls for my sister who comes running from the bed-room.Both get really tensed and are in short of ideas.My sister pulls out my tongue and puts her fingers through my mouth, in a futile attempt to make me vomit.The clock was ticking and real problem was my asthma.The astham attack could strike any time now.The inhaler is of no use with a sharpener in mouth and and excited situation in hand. My mother makes the call, she decides to rush me to the hospital.

The nearest hospital was 20 minutes away by auto.My asthma attack will surely strike me sooner than that.The auto-man was our friend, he had come running to start the auto without any question.It must have really scary to see a mother carrying a child upside down. My sister was in tears for the sharpener and me(grammar prevents me from using me and sharpener, no other reason).

15 minutes into the journey i get the attack. My head kept rocking back and forth. My mouth was gasping for air. It would be a few minutes before i started shaking my hands and then, the legs. We reached the hospital, it was a government hospital. The hospital was on strike. My mom nearly collapsed there. The auto-man and my sister had to hold her. She was trembling. I knew what she would have thought then "God, I’ve done so much to you, not this, not my son! Not this young!” For the only time in her married life, my mom shed tears in front of her own children.

Private hospitals were costly, but with that as the only option, the auto-man suggested that we go to ‘Apollo’. It was 45 minutes away, but auto-man swore he could do it in 25. Two minutes had elapsed since we got out of the auto. Those were the longest minutes for my mom and sister.

We were about to get in to the auto. We see Poongodhai getting down from another auto. She was my childhood heroine.She was the servant maid, who worked in our house even when we had no wages to offer her.She came and saw me, then my sister and then my mother. The look was that of a colonel or a sergeant. She took me by my legs and made a scary face for a fleeting instant. Immediately, the intensity of my thrusts and gasps reduced. Her knuckles came down hard on my spine and throat.Swift and clean, the sharpener was out. My mother immediately gave the inhaler and everything stopped. No laughter, no tears, no words. All that remained was deafening silence. My mom thanked Poongodhai. My sister picked up her sharpener and flung it high into the air. Poongodhai took me and held me by her shoulders. I started laughing again and she threw me up in the air, only to catch me again. My mother had a surging desire to hold me, but she knew better, she gave the moment to my heroine, a moment she truly deserved. My mom went to the temple that evening like any other normal day. Faith, keeps her alive and that day it kept me alive.

She kept me company when i had measles. My mother couldn't come near me because then my sister had to be taken care of. For 3 days and 3 nights she sat beside me and brushed me with tree leaves. She gave me a lot more than her sleep and kindness. When I grew up, I got answers to all my questions.

Yesterday, i got terrible news. Poongodhai had passed away on April 12th.The news is delivered to us nearly 3 months later. I couldn’t shed a single drop of tear. I hated myself for being such a cruel Human being. What if i had got the information on 12th, would i have bunked my semester exam and traveled on unreserved. I fear to answer the question in this world. ’Practicality’ is a word which I am trying to understand. If Poongodhai had been that way i wouldn't have been here.

Today, i stand appreciating Ayn Rand's philosophy of selfishness and profit. I have to accept that a few things are beyond reason and beyond my ideals here in my country.

The Return of the king!

2006-05-29T05:50:00.000-07:00

We are down 3-1 in the series.My heart leaps with joy and adulation.The reason is Brain Charles Lara. A step back and a step across followed by a huge backlift and then swoosh!Style, grace and beauty the earth is fighting to hold men like him.

It shows the victory of excellence over mediocrity, of distinctivness over the ordinary, of grace against grit.It brings me joy to see him bat, the way he dances. Calypso, Samba, Dapankuthu....Primitive dance forms that brings happiness for so many all over the world.

600 bucks gets me into Pasha or sparks.The only other time i've felt so bored in life is when i wait for the washing machine to stop rotating. The king has returned and 'Machchi, esaiya authu-vudu, kutha eduthu podu'

My hands, they nearly fired her.

2006-05-26T13:51:00.000-07:00

I think i still have that letter.My very own hands wrote it when i was in 11th. A bunch of students including me, decided to write a letter to the principal, requesting the removal of two teachers.We had a very strong conviction that both of them were mentally retarded and one of them needed a deoderant badly.

Bravely, i took up the task of writing the letter.The school had sent a circular asking the students and parents to give suggestions.There were ocassions where my physics teacher would go like "One of these days i am going to write a letter to the principal regarding your behaviour, discipline....".All the heads will turn back to give me a look.(I am a honarary member of the backbenchers society which supports anti-nerdish movements).I will be a witness to the widest grins and smirks.Even the nerds acknowledged me as a student in the class.All their grins wanted to say was "We already have our best man working on the letter,let us see who will get to princi's desk first".The master-piece was done, each and every student signed the letter.Some cowards like J.C. didn't sign it.We didn't have difficulty in forging their signatures.A 6th standard kid was forced to put it thru the letter box.
A few nerds were summoned to the princi's office next day.They did their job and told Bull-dog the facts.Post-letter lectures of physics were awesome. We dropped 15 pens together and when she asked who was responsible we would shout 'gravity'.We actually terrorised her.Then, one day a circular comes to class from the Bull-dog.It asked the students to stay back after the last period.We were curious because we didn't have biscuits to feed him.

Bull-Dog strides into the class with physics teacher behind him.He twirls the handle-bar and his hands are folded at the back.'Did she tell him about the Hissing, the Rockets, Gravity'.We were really scared to death.I was nearly trembling, because the letter was mine. First, his lecture then my dad's lecture, followed by my athimabair's lecture were all that i could hear. I watched his eyes scan the class untill they met mine.I was trying to vanish desparately. His fingers pointed at me. The letter-writer and Mr.Funny guy left me then, his last words being "Four of his fingers are pointing at himself....".My hands clasped the desk and gave me the much needed support to stand."Yes, sir" was all i could cough out.The questions he asked stunned us all.He asked me "How is she teaching now?".My fists loosened and the bladder walls grew stronger.Mr.Witty guy jumps right back in and says "Yeah! She's improving".The whole class goes into subdued laughter and grins.Bull-dog thanks me and moves out. It was another one hour before we could stop laughing and disperse.

The first guy who signed this letter was Vatsav.His words still keep resounding in my ears "he has a golden hand."

Indifference, do i hate it?

2006-05-20T12:08:00.002-07:00

With protests against Mandal comission (OBC Quota reservation)escalating everyday, the media has done a efficient job in covering the events. The government at the centre has indeed made a mistake by testing their might against a formidable and potent force.The youth of our country are unlike any other, they are hungry.To quote Ayn rand ' My life is the highest of ideals and will not be given up without a fight'.They draw their strength from books, music, movies and beyond all, 'Reason'.

The supposedly called 'lower cast' are considered as the vote banks by the governments.uch amendments are not implemented at the primary levels, for the hype and effect are not immediate.When implemented at Premier institutions which are under the media scanner, hype is phenomenal, thus helping them in elections.It helps some 'Lower cast' students thus instilling a sense of false hope that they are being helped. Let us take this case.

For all those who watched the CNN-IBN show on Saturday, 19th night ( Audience and host standards are dropping alarmingly. Audience can't stop applauding repeated ideas; hosts don't understand a debate is not done by 'Divide-and-conquer rule, lack command and talk a lot) a student from a village, which had a population of 500, got thru IITB and currently at IIMC, told that reservation has helped him a lot.He also mentioned he walked 5 km to school and his cousins are illiterate. If the government want to improve the impoverished people all they had to do was improve the infrastructure in his village.Going by sheer economics, with the money used to improve the infrastructure in IIM's and IIT's one can easily heighten the standard of primary education all over the country.Every IIM takes around 120 students and spends somewhere close to 25 lakhs on each student.(50 more seats are proposed).

Good parenting is very essential for a students career.If this caste based society continues than tomorrow will be no different.We Indians can multiply with ease, so their number is going to rise.Intellectual leaders are expected to lead and teach the youth.'Students educating students' is a policy which can tried out as courses that every student has to do in his college.Main stream Indian politics, soon will be taken over by Youth.

I do feel i am in someway responsible if i keep my trap shut.So i blogged.

Bloggers on Israel-palestine war, America Iraq war, TNPCEE syllabus please notify.

Scenes from my expedition to Mumbai.

2006-05-18T21:43:00.000-07:00

Every summer i visit my sister in Mumbai.For a good 15 days or so i do nothing related to achievement and goals.I keep telling myself 'Just let go'.A journey which will not have anything great in it but a reason that i spent my days with her (and got a digicam).Scenes from the trip:

1.A non-reading and all talking train journey to Mumbai.Thanks to the girl from Stella Maris and her brother from St.Michaels.(names delibarately not mentioned)

2.My niece Hita now call me 'Ve mama'.She likes my mobile more than me.She nearly pissed on me.

3.The jogging track lady.Found myself talking to a unmarried lady working as a journalist.My admiration was way beyond its limits.She had read everything i had dreamt of and seen every movie i wished.Her latest cover was some farmer problem in Nasik.

4.Uncle told us his detective story.The government of India gives the best crime detective award every 4 years. This year my uncle got the award.Another role-model comes rolling down my way.

5.Train journey to Dadar.Adventure sports to the core.I loved every bit of it.I thought about people who have been doing this all their school lives.I understood why they say 'You should wrestle your way to the top'

6.Visit to my Aunt's place at Pune.It was as usual sad and depressing. My uncle cannot walk and my cousin sister is different.I'll leave it at that.

7.The look on the face of a young village girl driving a jeep. The car driver in front of us had give her an astonished stare.She gave loads more of the same to him and while she passed our car gave us the cutest of school-girl smiles.Moment to be framed.

8.The fight at the showroom.The digicam purchase did not have the happiest of endings.After a scuffle between my sis and me, cause due to both of us, the mood was downbeat.I stepped on the gas, she did shut up.

9.I gave my sister a hug at the station.When you have the confidence that the action you performed was SURELY right, you are contented.I initiated it.So long...but at last.

10.Train journey back.Small kids climbing up and down the seats.Loved them more than any other neighbours i've had.The kid actually cried when he left the station with his mom.

On my niece!!

2006-05-08T00:53:00.000-07:00

Hita....
She is now a year old and she has got so much more beautiful since the last time i saw her. She was sleeping on the bed with her hands and legs spread at angles.Her fists clenched and the breeze from the fan stroking her gently on her hair. She was sleeping as if she had no fear or pain in the world. A Purity that belonged to Gods, Vivian Richards and Pink Floyd. She stirred for second and i held my breath.But then, she went back to sleep again.
If there is a battle i should fight, it should be for people like her. I will set for her an example, that life is all about dreaming.Being matured does not mean losing out on humour. She should grow up to be fearless. I will fight them till i die.Till i breath i will not allow them to win the battle.
Happy Birthday..Hita...This is your uncle!

She was never meant to be......

2006-04-27T21:19:00.000-07:00

I was 13 years old. In the threshold of adolescence, i was beginning to experience strong emotions. It was them, the hormones. She was there, like she always had been. I had seen her only the last year, but I had known she was there. Why those minute details, No! Not now! It is too painful to see them from here, after having been there.

She was all ovals, angles and tender. Her eyes always did speak, not her mouth. I would see them curving like an arc. Those lashes, dark and thin, curved towards the end. Those black-dots were the kind that seizes you and makes you soar. They stood apart from the rest of the eyes. Ah! Yes she was a Classical dancer. Her cheeks were gaunt with those angles and cuts that reminded me of Athena, the Greek goddess, who was meant to be worshipped not loved. Her lips, they were pure. When she spoke, you listen to her eyes and look at her lips. After every sentence she spoke, she pressed her lips hard, I believed then the world had stopped, watching her palm touch her upper lip. The way she used to do her pleats, one on each side, every time she bent down to laugh or cry they used to go down with her. How much would it have costed me to sit beside her and put my arm on her back? I saw her crying a few times, I did not dare to go near her, for she was even more beautiful then. Her eyes would shrink a little and they would turn red, matching her cheeks. Her pleats would be let down and they would fall down upon her face. An angel she was. Then there was her bindhi, a sign she had. It was her definition of grace and elegance. It grew up like a flame on her forehead, a dancing flame, even that was oval. Sometimes she would come in with one ribbon loose. It was a longing I had, to do her hair and tie those ribbons. A few steps were all I had to take. I refused to.

I was to meet her one last time. I told her I’ll wait near the gate till she came. It was her last day at school, she was going away. We had rarely spoken to each other, but I knew her, for I had been with her all my life. My school had an alleyway as an entrance, the path turned left and right. Right in the middle, there stood a small church with the statue of Virgin Mary and baby Jesus.

She came running down the lane, for a brief moment I slumped my head backwards and closed my eyes. Her skirt was beating up and down, the eyebrows gave away grief and anguish. I wish I could hug her, tell her that she need not be worried and I’ll be with her forever. It was ironical that God chose this very moment to say that he existed. Everything I longed for was in just there. I was to open those gates and press my mouth against hers. Untie those pleats and smell that flowing hair. Hug her tightly and feel her within me, against me and beyond me. She stopped alongside me. I was trembling. I had made my choice; I will have to bear my pain and hers, hers a lot more. She started walking past the gate. I followed her and stood at the gate, clinging on to those metal bars. For the first time, she saw me with her eyes and she wanted to do the talking. I saw those black dots boring into mine, pleading and suffering. My hands were clenched against the bars, trying desperately to stop me from running to embrace her, from killing myself, a self that I claimed to possess.

She could not understand but she saw my pain. For a fleeting instant, her face turned all pale and white as if she would fall down. But then she gave me a smile that, which one gives as a sign of acknowledgement. It was one which bore or threw no pain, fear or guilt. It gave her a right to walk away free. I turned back went and prayed to Mother Mary and baby Jesus that they should keep me an atheist for the rest of my life. Ever since that day, I have been searching for her, in the books I read, the movies I watch, the women I meet, the stories I write, but I never did find her.

O-god-please-tell-me-who-will-be-the.......

2006-04-26T02:44:00.000-07:00

Chi Ku Li Ba (Indoor/Outdoor game;Also called stone, papers, scissors by the peter's (read PSBBians))
Requirements: Hands

Abilities tested: Reflex, Mind reading capacity, quick hand-eye co-ordination

Age: 6-12 years

No of players: 2 and above

Variations : (a) Single or double handed games
(b) Only Chi, Ku and Ba are used.

Play Time: Short break, Lunch, Before and after School, During Lectures, waiting for sc
school bus, in the school bus;

Foul calls(FC): (a) ‘Bongadikkaran’: This is an offence called when one changes
the symbols after the opponent has revealed his.
This might lead to elimination of one hand or both
if committed often. One warning allowed.

(b) ‘Eh Asku’: This is very similar to FC 1, but the foul is accepted
by the culprit immediately after he commits it.
Mostly he/she is not reprimanded. Culprit smiles
while committing it.

Merits: (a) You can never get caught in class, as teachers are unaware of the existence of
this game, So students can tell anything from ‘I was discussing Fleming’s
Right hand rule’ to ‘aftermath effects of Biology Record’.
(b) It is of no cost and the distance between the players can be around 10-15
Metres. Tournaments get finished with minutes.

Demerits: (a) Extremely addictive
(b) If Lunch is ‘Thayir sadam’ it will most probably not even be opened.

NOTE: Without an unbiased referee this games will always end up in scuffles and fist-
Fights and FC 1 & 2 will be committed in every pass.

Four Corners (Strictly Outdoor);(Also called ‘Upliyae-puliyanga in villages)
Requirements: N-1 corners where N is the no: of players

Abilities tested: Athleticism, Mind reading capacity, Communication skills, Stealth
Tactics, Concentration and distraction repelling capacity.

Age: 6-15 years

No: of players: Initially was restricted at 4 but due to present population crisis it 4 and above.

Play Time: After school , during P.T. period when the only tennis ball gets lost., waiting for
School bus in the evening;

Foul calls: (a) Dhoda: This Offense is called by the Non-catcher when the catcher thinks that the non-catcher is not in contact with a ‘Corner’.Dispute settled by mutual consent.
(b) ‘Bongals of India’: This is called when the game goes on without the non-
catcher’s leaving their place. This will eventually lead to the change of game. This occurs when the non-catchers are all unanimous in their decision to make sure the catcher is to be irritated

TO BE CONTINUED.......COMING UP
1.UNDER ARM BOWLING
2.MUDHUGU PUNCH
3.THALAGANI SANDAI (a.k.a PILLOW FIGHT (esp.sis)
4.APPA-AMMA

AND LOTS MORE ONLY ON www.moansicarus.blogpsot.com

The pain and 'Pressure' of being a remote control

2006-04-24T10:18:00.000-07:00

Inspired by Sienfeld…

From the diary of a Remote…….

C345: Got pressed 33,345 times(up arrow takes half the count), slapped at the buttocks 146 times, stripped of my pants 9 times, was misunderstood as being a part of the sofa 16 times, was used as instrument to itch a thick layer of skin 21 times, extra layer of clothing at the back -3 in no……..

‘Remote’ is a source of power. As soon as you take control of it, you understand the expression “The world is in your hands”. 1 to 60 then back from 1 to 60 and so on and so forth.
Even without the Set-top-box (this was a law which was passed to improve ‘Remote rights’ and reduce their oppression), with only 20 channels to surf through, I never let myself stay in any one channel for more than a few seconds. The pleasure we get from watching a movie is nothing compared to the pleasure we get from flipping channels.
Click….click….click….interesting…click…click….”oh! Where did that go..”click… click..no other way…click..click..”Yes! I got it” only to hear the host saying “We’ll return after a short commercial”. I bet, the next you remember to see the program again, it will having it’s next commercial break. Manufacturers do not understand that the ‘recall’ button only complicates things. At least otherwise you’ll be near the channel you missed and now you land up miles away from that channel.
Let us study a few terms that a remote can relate to in every household:
1. Up-Arrow Syndrome: With damage levels well over the roof, this is the first key to get coloured and damaged. Sometimes, to escape the fingers it goes down and gets itself stuck. Only that the efforts are futile because humans dig it out or use a pen or any other means.

2. ‘Butt-Slap’: Every remote during its life tenure gets this treatment. You give it a nice little spanking, in C++ terms….
int spank( float slap )
{
for( slap=1;)
{
if (Channel=channel+1)
exit(0);
else
{
slap=slap+1
if (slap>10)
strip(); \\ strip function is defined later.
}

3. Protective Gears Worn:
(a) Cellophane tape (esp. brown): After Spank() it is pretty obvious that the lid wants a divorce from the remote. You are the judge, your answer is to wrap them with the brown colored tape and slaps get upgraded to bangs and punches.
(b) Plastic cover: This is new to the market. It comes in all shapes and varieties, with a lot of padding. This Endeavour is also to improve ‘Remote rights’ was promoted by RRY (Remote Relief and You).But within no time the cover is stripped away from the remote and then spank() is called through ‘Reference’.

4. Hide and seek:
This method is adopted by most of the remotes. Have you ever wondered why most of the remotes get lost when you want to change to your favourite channel? Revenge, is what it seeks and revenge is what it gets because I get shouted all the time irrespective of who misplaces it (because i am the only child for my parents)

5. We-hate-Newton-club.
Gravity…it decreases Remote’s life-time by 85%. Majority of the drops goes on like this, we sit with our legs crossed and the remote in our laps. After some time we conveniently forget its location and get up to search for it, and gravity takes care of the rest.

6. Hand shake assistance:
When two people fight for a remote, they will keep pulling till their parents come. Parents never do the pulling because father is entitled to have the remote when he asks for it.

Thus we find that a life in the day of a remote is tough. My parents used to say that in your next birth you will go to hell if you do bad things. I’ll tell my kids that they’ll become remotes if they do bad things.

Alarm #1,#2 and a Cup of KAPI

2006-04-24T10:11:00.000-07:00

ENTER: Alarm clock no:1." Ma, 5 more minutes, Ma". We never got to know whether those 5 minutes happened or not because it seemed like the next second she'll wake me up and give us a stare accompanied by some high frequency sound waves which saved us cost of alarm clocks. Every year of our school life, my siter and me been subjected to a system of alarm clocks which needs no turning on or off, and it never runs out of batteries .

M.S.Subbhalakshmi's vibrant voice, which when I hear I always picturize her throat and the veins that run down them when she reaches high pitch while singing "Lalitha Sahasthranamam". The toothbrush and paste somehow gets shoved into my hands and I brush, looking into that mirror which has been made with atmost precision to show our heads and eyes but never our mouth. In a brave attempt to conquer the impossible I try to sleep again on the sofa. I head towards the sofa and cover my face with the newspaper; thank god there were no tabloid those days. ENTER: alarm clock no:2, this one shows no mercy. I learnt from 'him' actions speak louder than words. Takes the paper away and give me this i-caught-you-red-handed look.

Streaks of sunlight just litter the hall with shadows of the window frames all over my place.They slant down and strike my face as if reminding me, 'i get up everday and why can't you'. Now is the time for my nose to get up. Enter alarm #3: Kapi. I come to the kitchen to take it, then I see her aathyfying the coffee, up and,,,down, up and ….down. Walking briskly across the kitchen, she places 'him' on the table. She knows I like the coffee with norai (froth) at the top. As I walk towards the table, I see them staring at me, those innumerable bubbles, small ones. They die too quickly and it reminds me of some Wordsworth's poem about a tree and flower falling. After ripping a packet of Milk-Bikis open, I dig my hand into the crisp first biscuit. Pull it out and mukkify it or soak it in coffee. Bring it all the way back to my mouth carefully, so that the coffee does not drip, then i crunch it. I did this along with my sister for 14 years of my life and never got fed up of it. I still do it. When Milk-Bikis ran out of stock, Marie will answer to the call of duty. Each biscuit will be the last biscuit till the moment you eat it and then it will become the last but one. The most essential part was drinking of the last quarter of the glass without any soaking.
The tumbler goes into the sink and I go into the bathroom, where I close the door and take the newspaper along with me, to continue sleeping.Now someone else wakes me up, it is my sis and she is waiting for her turn.

Atlantis exists, i have seen it a few times.

2006-04-18T04:15:00.000-07:00

We search for happiness in life.Everything we do from sleeping to watching porn is based on this idea.There are no contradictions to this fact, believe me, none whatsoever.Then why do i feel so fucked up now!!!

Have you ever done things you knew you were born to do? Have you relished the pleasure that you get from just the effort and do not really give a damn whether anyone likes it or not.You just do it for no reason, other than you liking that job.A reason only capable to the minds of highest order.I call this Atlantis, this is not a place where you are not unhappy but a place you are happy.I remember one single occasion when this happened. I was writing a script for a play in my 11th with my close friend (i didn't know how close he was to me then), i remember that while we were laughing we saluted our ideas, we were respecting the our minds.We came up with the whole script which was humorous to a great extent.We didn't realised we made up something for college students andd not for 9th standard kids.I learnt the meaning of what " i had fun" meant.

Nowadays, i rarely salute.I see people saluting ideals which are so baseless.Yes, it is fear gripping more of me.If i am afraid one someone it is them. They who believe that existence is also a state and their minds are like any others.Life is not for having fun but also requires sacrifice.They who believe that real pleasure comes from how others feel about you.They who don't see the path ahead but only believe in today and tomorrow.But the question i ask, if i hate mediocrity so much i should never be one of them.You shall lose the right to hate them.

When i think of all those like ME who deserve pleasure from getting high marks and not via the concepts learned i can think nothing of but a whore, so cheap, so evil.A whore is someone who
devalues one of the greatest of human acts by not deriving pleasure from it but choosing it as a means to for existence.A whore has more to it in its meaning, it means you hate what you are doing, but you do it for existence.Don't we all condemn her, then going byt the same moral standards i guess i should condemn myself.

For all those who think existence is just another state, i damn you.For all those who believe that Atlantis exists thank you.

I am no Atlas, it hurts.

2006-04-07T12:26:00.000-07:00

Today morning i had a Math exam. My preparation consisted of Ayn Rand, Porn, Ayn Rand, Rod's (My roomie) Notebook, More Porn and also walking upto the mess.I kept telling myself that i need not care because i am passing, why the freaking hell should i study.After i ran out of Porn and fluids i decide to study.
But before that i took a break for 12 hours, because i needed to catch up on my sleep.The moment i got i realised that today evening it will pain.If one did not give to the best of his ability it obviously will pain.But think of doing soemthng that has no purpose and reason, it hurts even more.It's tough to choose out of the too evils but i choose the former.I finished 20 marks in a span of 1 1/2 hours.Insane!! The exams wa too boring.even attempted at futile efforts in copying, but couldn't figure out what was written in my neighbours paper.Felt too bored, so decide i should leave the hall.
The teachers they have given us a tough time, why should i give them an easy time of correcting a paper with a lot of blank sheets.So decide to fill them up with all the Math i knew.So i wrote some crap, then some more crap.Suddenly i figured out "Complex roots occured in conjugate pairs, if co=efficients are real".I felt really happy and started humming 'Kryptonite' very loud, which attracted a lot of attention.I saw all the people around me, i aske myself " what is their motive force".If the answer is that 4 letter acronym, CGPA.May all hel break loose upon them, let them be damned.
If the majority is Insane, the minority always gets scared.i walk out of the hall, the were handing out some sort of pamphlets, it turned out to be my thermo paper.I got 8 and the Bastard who studied with me got 30 on 30.Inspiration keeps searching me.
This hour i spend on my Blog would have otherwise gone into a fruitless hour of machinery which according to Takla involves "basic geometry".I think of a funny expression which come from cricket, at the moment in Machinery i seem to be dealing in singles and doubles.
Let Me and manu get back to page -flipping and crap talking.

Vector analysis.......LOST

2006-03-28T20:25:00.000-08:00

I believe there is a reason for me doing engineering at NITC.The only hitch is that those reasons aren't that apparent.i haven't learnt anything in the last 2 years.On days like these i go back to that when i uttered those words.I did not realise that i was so precise in predicting my own future.
It happened when i was in 10th.I was hell bent upon taking Commerce.My parents wanted it the other way.I told them my interests aren't exactly shaped in an engineers way,but i could not define what i wanted to do.I was about to pay for the commerce form, 2 guys ahead of me in the Queue.I seem to distinctly remem,ber the question that i asked myself."Do i really believe that i was a part of this group, will i be at home with these guys".Negative.I changed my mind and forgot about the form.
Then came the entrance exam for science which i wrote and 'They' gave me thiose very marks which made sure i headed in one direction.I scored a centum in both science and maths.
Then it was no looking back.As soon as that happened, people started telling me that i should take science and that this is a irrefutable proof.I knew more about me than the bloody examination told me.The real problem came because the others were in the wrong place and i was in the right place.At that age, i did not realise that my instincts are amazing.I went were the majority of my kind went, and that was the first lesson i learnt in life "Take decision for yourself, you are different".
Then the slide began.IIT classes went bad, may be because of my mind-set or maybe just because i didn't feel that much sacrifice was not worth it.Some days i was jus bleedin' and i didn't like that .I realised that my interests are elsewhere.Then quit IIT started preparing for AIEEE.For the first time in my life i started hitting at the books.I studied really hard and believe me it was boring at times.Majority of the assholes of my age think that you have a right to suffer when you work hard.I feel that happiness is the only pursuit that you shoudl look for.If yu like something do it else forget it.
After all the hardwork, i didn't get thru to BITS or NUS, and so i landed up here.After having landed up here i haven't seen a purpose till now.But after so many things that have happened to believe that i have landed up here for a reason.Purpose is the reason we all exist.If anyone give you the CRAP "Work Now and Enjoy later" give him the finger.
So finally here i am LOST like everyone of you.the only difference is that you love being LOST and i believe that there is "the other side of the Hedge" if you want follow me or else "GET LOST"

MOS- A course that changed my life's course.

2005-11-12T23:44:00.000-08:00

The story so far......
After 4 years of hardwork, Iapa' completes his B.tech.An absolute genius witb levels of intelligence out weighing himself.Now is he going to lead another batch of students into the deepest mysteries of life that he has discovered.Let us find out.....

RESUME:

Name : Iapa'
Age : 21
Gender: Male
Interests: -->Runnin' up and down the CC,
-->Coming to 9 'o' clock lecture at 9.40 and calling the guys in the coffee shop to attend my lecture,
-->Showcasing them talent i have on pearl, java, python,alligator,bush-baby....
-->making everybody think that i am the reincarnation of Richard feynman.
-->conduct a test for 100 marks and using complex singularity functions (Ref.J.Mikahe.G.groner)successfully reject the hypothesis the test was a sucessfull failure.
--> (Umbrella: When this guy is drunk people mistake me for Iapa')
--> Bridging calicut beach to chathamangalam.
Educational qualifications: ???(hmmm...Ok Ill try to recollect a few)
Last degree:S11 B.tech....NO DoNutS For You.
Achievements:Sorry for wasting so much paper...i can't help it.
---> Have written a perl algorithm to solve the problems in synchronising the process of smoking 2 or more cigars simultaneoulsy
--->have written loads of blogs which are of no use to yu or me, and the love letter to emilda (the cow i love).
--->Convinced college officials that I have taught enough to earn a decent amount to fund my GRE (Exam fees only)(and a day's rum)(if there is something called GRE preparation topper i'll be the first)
---> Manhood.(i showcase it with my beard, that ain't fake)
--->Courteously rejected admission by all colleges I applied to.(P.S: "courteously")
--->Karl Marx would have surely given recommendation had he been alive
Future plans:
--->Having a bath tommorrow morning.
--->Getting AIR-1(Ayappan inda rank) in AIKEE(All india kundans entrance examination), i am gettin bored in E-hostel.
--->Screwing the 2006-2007 batch jus like the previous 2005-2006 batch, if possible even worse, which i doubt whether it is possible.
--->

AMMA-GET-DOWN

2005-09-23T03:17:00.000-07:00

WHAT IF OUR CAPTAIN,THALAIVAR,TAMILZHMAKKALIN ANBHU SELVAKKA ACTED IN ARMAGEDDON.....
AMMA-GET-DOWN will be the name of that movie.Like every other movie it has a political and a social message to it..Let us go scene wise.

OB-SCENE 1:(Camera'ssss trying to focus on the captain magnanimous posterior) Captain running really fast to catch villains.....(Actually captain is stayin' in one place the camera is being moved very fast) then villains, 10 of them get to a dead end, from below the crotch of each guy the captain face is focussed.It takes some time for the audience to figure out the difference.
(Graphics:Captain's face interchanges rapidly between Lion's and His.)So the fight scene starts...no wait here comes the dialogue:"Namma mannodu uppu thinuttu, namma mannukke drogam panaregaleda pavigalla..avigalla...vigalla..galla.la..la..la".Pakistani theevravadhi says "Annae mannichidunga".Captain eyes start fuming with anger "Mannipu, damilla pidikadha ore vartha".Immediately they start shootin' at thalai,obviously thalai concentrates on the bullets and they burn off before reachin' him.Villains start whispering to each other,then thalai delivers flawlessly "En parvaila irruku da neruppu".The villains come out of the alley as 'nermaiyanna damizhans'.

Scene 2:Captain goes home and wife asks "Ongallaku na mukkiyama, tamilzh mannu mukkiyama".Captain replies with his nakkal smile "Heh!Onnakku enna di theriyum, na paththu waysu irrukarachai.zzzzz
(flashback).Young captain, was roaming around for food in the streets in the morning and studies in street lights in the night.'Na mada ozhaichchu IIT mains'ella AIR 1 vangi IIT pollana paththa, angaiyum oooooooozhal,sadi,arasiyal nama nata nasam panaruththukku vandha pavigal'.Captain then decides to form his own army.(Slides move across the screens, captain taking push-ups '745-746-747-2-3...'(IIT syllabus doesn't involve basic maths).Captain running in the morning with tracks,(formerly circus elephants attire) and sweat in his hair riddled chest which is nothing compared to sathyaraj's who is closely is followed by sibiraj.Captain forms his own army to save tamizh mannu.

Chicks and lot more....

2005-07-30T00:17:00.001-07:00

First year at NITC......
DAY 1,
A:Hey dude check out that chick dude,man she sure is hot.....
B:AWESOME chick!!!
C:where da!where?
A:She is walking towards us da,near the AB,she is kinda good.
B:Structure seems to be.....somewhere in her lineage there seems to be plump cat....hippo...no..plump hippo.
C:DUDE!She is OKAY, thats it and not anything much.
A:I see a black outline is give for her mouth and chin.
B:I have seen that somewhere in a mirror...escapes my mind.
C:O holy shit,she looks horrible da...FUCK!Lets run to lecture.

There the episode began, our hunt for chicks.In the las one year we have been exposed to electricity,SARA LISA DAVID (the lab raider,little girl(remember Hiroshima)) and a phrase called NITC 'chicks'....
My side burns hide ashamed and my moustache seems immature, for theirs seem larger than ours and trimmed and shaved regularly.Kinda screwed up life in that 1st year of ours,A-mess ka khanna,really irritating raggin' and chicks
.Then we came up with theories.
First of them,if a girls looks good from the back.Maintain that distance.It means that is the distance of closest approach.Rule number 2:If a girls looks good from the front.Yu are in for real danger.Any approach to talk to her can lead to impending disaster.IT IS BETTER TO BE SAFE THAN SORRY.Rule number 3:If a girl looks good from all angles, yu are in for a DOUBLE attached sphagetti with yur head yolked in the centre.AS a normal human in search of greater things in life, yu are bound to talk to her.Then conversations can go on like this...
A:Hi,hows life?
5239:It is soooooo(note the o's) great!
A:I saw yu near the AB yesterday.
5239:We came to class.
A:What about the lectures?
5239:I had chappathi for yesterday night and my teddy went missing las' night.
A:the lectures?
5239:still haven't found it.
A:Can we have a date(toughest and bravest question put forth)
5239:Can yu ask my mom and make sure dad is also consulted and the directoe has put rules on it and..
A:i asked today's date forget it.
So yu have a idea of their levels of intelligence.Girls in chennai are different.They can talk about things,they can walk and still talk and they can look good without shaving.
SECOND YEAR AT NITC
DAY 1:
A:LUK at that junior chick da,awsome chick...
C:WHERE da?