Monday, December 21, 2009

My Mate.. Climate..




We can holler slogans… We can march protests... Doesn’t matter how much oil is burnt everyday to prepare the multi-cuisine dishes for the delegates at Copenhagen… But when it actually comes down to caring for the environment, we shrug our shoulders.. No matter how much Aamir Khan distorts his facial features in his posters to look like a teenager, his real age is known to everybody.. No matter how much we create (or pretend to create) an awareness about protecting our climate, we all turn cold when we deal with it in our own lives.. I may sound like a stereotypical protest-ie but I just felt the urge to share a very burning incident that happened a few days ago..
   Evening had arrived.. I was walking back to my home when I saw a heavy dark smoke coming from a distance.. It got diffused in the surrounding air and made it unpleasant for everybody.. The lady who was walking beside me had put a hankie on her face to cover up just like I did, and the kids of the nearby dhobi were coughing like anything.. It was indeed very disturbing.. Had it been any other day, I would have continued to my home pressing the hankie a bit tighter, but the hype created by the on-going climate-change summit pumped concern in my veins.. I set out for the source of that smoke.. A smoke not on the water!!..
I didn’t have to travel much.. The guards of the next tower were standing around a bonfire kind of a thing and rejoicing the wintry evening.. They were burning the dry leaves accompanied with plastic packets (, and many more things).. The smoke from the plastic was what was causing so much irritation.. As I approached them, I saw a familiar face.. He was from my family’s friend circle who resides in the same tower and was enjoying the fire which supplied HEAT to him.. Just as he saw me coming towards him,
Well.. Let me supply the extracts of the conversation.. though it was in Hindi, but I think I can translate this much…

Uncle X : Hey, come join us.. get some heat.. ha

Me: Thanks uncle, but I came here to put this off.. ( I did not smile.., he was expecting me to smile because he thought I was joking)

Uncle X : (after a pause of expectation) ha ha ha.. why do you want to put this thing off??. You and I live in heated apartments but look at these poor guys, they need this to stay warm.. ha ha.. (The joke he was intending to crack begged for a sense, and I didn’t smile back)..

Me: They have got their own rooms with heaters.. they can stay inside that.. Have you asked them to burn these??.. or are they burning these themselves..??.

Uncle X :  Yes.. I had only asked them to burn these.. You see the leaves were thrown here… The place was looking dirty.. so I asked them to burn the leaves.. but why are you asking??.
(Game on)

Me: Uncle, the smoke is bothering everybody..
Uncle X : Bothering whom??.. I am not seeing anyone getting bothered except you…

Me: The residents of our apartment were complaining about this to the guard.. That is where I am coming from.. (Yes, I lied)..

Uncle X : Let them come to me and speak..

( I was pitying the guy.. He was an educated man, but his behavior proved otherwise.. He had lost all the respect that I had for him.. How can he be so very adamant about such a small thing.. The guards seemed to be enjoying the drama without wearing any expression on their faces)…

Me: Can’t you see.. the smoke is spreading everywhere.. Call your home and check whether they can smell it or not.. Please uncle.. ask them to put this off..

Uncle X: It will go off by itself in a few minutes kid.. Go to your apartment.. This is our apartment and our garbage.. We can do anything with it..

That did it.. I was in no way going to waste my breath on this literate illiterate person.. I gave up.. and while coming back, saw the kids of the building.. playing badminton.. I knew some of them and asked them to pour water to the fire.. I knew that they won’t do that, but still I had to vent my anger… I was feeling very sorry for myself because I was not able to persuade him… sorry for the residents who had no options but to breathe in that poison air.. Sorry for the kids who had to cough it out.. And sorry for the Earth, which had to house it’s own destroyer..
Well.. I am not suggesting any measures to protect our environment, because we have been taught about this for quiet some time now.. We have wasted enough ink answering the easy questions, “How can we conserve the Environment?” and listed many things which we never follow… But I just met an educated Indian, who by no means had any sort of concern for the Earth and had no problems holding it by it’s neck and banging it’s head against the wall.. If he can’t conserve the place, he has no right to destroy it…


This sorry observation made me recollect a picture I had seen in an art exhibition.. The picture was all black.. No colors.. No lines.. It was like darkness, poured into the blank canvas.. it was too difficult for a 6th class student to comprehend the sense behind that frame.. But now I can very well realize where it intended to point.. The picture wore a title.. “Delhi, 2050”..

Saturday, November 28, 2009

Piranha's Lounge


There are things that we always wonder why happen at all... We get amazed that how can this thing happen to anyone.. But if this amazes you, you will get a shock when those very things happen to you... I don't know whether I make sense or not.. but those who have experienced the same feeling, needs no explanation of this fact.. Life shows us all.. everything that we see around, that we think has a rare possibility of happening to us, can occur any day, any time..
well.. life has been Topsy Turvy the past few months.. A lot of things happening at the same time.. A lot means a lot.. Campus Recruitment, CAT, End Semester woes, special people, special friends, everybody is letting me feel their respective presence..
Back in college, the end semester is about to end this monday.. And another herd of exams will be soon visiting.. The December opening of our college placement has been welcomed by all.. The Nescafe and the Coffe Day express have added shine to our otherwise happening hostel... They remain open till 4 in the night and the starved-due-to-mess-food and bored-of-chachi people of the college line up to fill their tummies with relatively tastier and newer food items.. Macroni, Pasta, Croissant, everything is in the offering and they ensure a visit to the ATM b4 coming to them... The exams were more like T20s.. Minimal preparation, 3 hours brain.. and done..
A holiday is on the cards.. To a calm place, thats what I need right now.. But just as the thing that I mentioned in the starting, some lines unfold their true meanings and you see yourself as a part of it's appropriateness..
"Miles to go Before I sleep...Miles to go before I sleep.."..
take care all..
love the winters..
miss the summers.. .
 

Saturday, October 17, 2009

The Story of a King..


Once upon a time there lived a king.. He was not only a king of all wealth and health, but also a king of all the pain and sorrow… He was very unhappy.. He sat and wept all the day..

What makes people gloomy??.. Not only when things go skewed and awry, but even piles of wealth stored away can make people sad…

Will the unhappiness go away??.. No wonder the king broods and wonders all the day.. But can he ever find peace if he’s busy punishing everyone or the other…

How can the sorrow go away??..  Not much of a chance if your palace becomes your prison…  If the king could leave his golden throne, and get out in the fields to breathe some open air, to feel the fresh dew drops under his feet.. Then he could find peace…

Once upon a time there lived a king.. He was not only a king of all wealth and health, but also a king of all the pain and sorrow… He was very unhappy.. He sat and wept all the day..




the above content was inspired or rather translated from a song, by Satyajit Ray, in one of his marvelous movies, "Goopi Gayan, Bagha Bayan".. I can't help appreciating the great man.. The relevance of his thoughts behind the poem is truly praiseworthy... 
Salutes..
:) 

Saturday, October 10, 2009

(:..For you.. The girl in Green.. :)


Metro from Rithala to Dilshad...
There's nothing good in it.. because there's nothing bad...
People get in and out at every stop...
And I prefer sleeping while watching this daily soap...

Rohini West.. you climbed up and sat on the seat opposite to mine...
You were with a friend of yours..and I saw your looks were just fine..
Took out a comb and you settled your hair letting it collide...
I tried to concentrate hard on the editorial and pushed my ear plugs inside...

My regular glances here and there.. they were all meant for you...
You looked back... Were you even looking at me??.. or enjoying the outside view..??.
Just as our eyes met for the nano of seconds...
I tried to look away... or to the newspaper I reckoned..

"People confuse the metro as their study room".. you said and your friend started laughing..
An open mock thrown at me??... Speak something.. Save your prestige from half-ing...
Game on.. I folded the Newspaper.. felling like the frame of Gable...
"These days people think the Metro is their make-up table..".

That worked.. you stunned... you smiled.. you did many things together, like the don of Dubai..
"Hello I am ****.. Do you live nearby??.."..
And as you asked the Uncle sitting beside you, to change his place with mine..
"No I live in the East.. Why?.. is everything fine??."..

Of the dancing dandoos that I try everyday.... When you asked, "What do you do??."..
"I write blogs".. was the answer that came out of my beak without any ado..
"Wow.. what are blogs by the way..", I didn't know that you didn't know..
"They are web spaces where I publish some appo and grappo"...

Pulbangash.. That's where you had to get down...
"So, will you write a blog for me??."..  you smiled and took your bag around..
"Sure.. Let me see what I can write for you", I said like Rushdie, like I was the only sheen...
This goes out for you girl.. The Metro girl in green...





Monday, September 28, 2009

Chapter-III- The Long Pause..

The bag lied next to him… Saturdays are the best-days.. You can relax as much as you can.. You know the next day is off and you have enough time to toil for the week’s assignment.. So just sit and give yourself the time you need.. And Shekhar needed time..  He was staring at the bag, without any reason.. 
read more..
http://thepoppingpill.blogspot.com/2009/09/chapter-iii-long-pause.html

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Delhi's Durga Puja


This was the 7th time I was celebrating Durga Puja in Delhi.. 
And for the first time I got an opportunity to visit the pandals other than our own colony puja.. 
Actually, every year we make plans to go out, but end up getting involved in the local puja.. But this year, it was unlike..


We first headed to Chittaranjan Park..
Navapalli Durgostav was our first halt.. As I started walking towards the puja, watched people stationed in lines, Bengali flowing out ubiquitously, for one pint of time I justly sensed I was walking the streets of Kolkata.. The animation, the verve, the charisma was the so alike..

The display was nice..                  ...the NAVPALLI DURGA PUJA...



Then came CR PARK, Kalimandir Puja Committee’s Durga Puja.. We were greeted by the huge mass.. Had to situate in a long line, without getting tired.. 



CR PARK KALIMANDIR


A troop from West Bengal’s Birbhum were performing tribal dance.. an awesome performance,. I wish I could stand there a little longer, but CR Park Co-Operative Ground’s Durga Puja  was next…

gigantic crowd.. long queues.. nothing could deter our spirit.. we walked slowly in the queues and reached the Pandal.. It was undoubtedly the best pratima I had seen in Delhi so far.. 

The insides of the pandal was decorated with sculptures and a perfect ambience was crafted.. The Pratima particularly was amazing.. it was hard to take my eyes off..



 CR PARK CO-OP GROUND


Then came Chittaranjan Park-I Puja.. The arrangement was lovely.. Fighting scene between Ma and Asur was depicted..



CR PARK- 1


As we left CR Park, I was feeling fulfilled.. The Kolkata that I was missing for so many days, came banging back.. It is true that inhabitants call CR Park the “second kolkata”.. The vista, the panorama, the spectacle, the ambience, the Bengali parlance everywhere, the egg rolls, the jhalmuri, the fuchka.. everything carried the Kolkata feel.. and I had no problems being the utterly butterly regional Gangeyyo at that point of time.. I was proud to be a BANGALI.. like every other Bangali..

From there we headed to the oldest puja in delhi.. The one at Kashmeeri Gate.. It was started in 1910 and they were rejoicing their 100th year of being… I came to know that many prominent figures were in the organizing team of the puja and even Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose was associated… We bought some Bengali CDs and books from there..



 KASHMERI GATE


Next was Mayur Vihar’s Miloni.. It had been adjudged as the best Puja of Delhi… We reached there at the stroke of midnight but still found a decently full-size crowd.. The Sandhi Puja was going on and once again I could feel the Kolkata inside.. (excuse the repetitions..)..



MAYUR VIHAR'S MILONI 
We came back at 1:00am.. and after six long years, I felt like I am really celebrating the Durga Puja.. I love Delhi.. :-)   




Thursday, September 24, 2009

Celebrations...

When she comes, she comes with all her majestic aura which no one can ignore..
The celebrations, the festivals, the charm, the wishes exchanged, make these days so very special.. Special in a new way..
Well.. finally, the wait for Durga Puja is over.. Well before time, Ma Durga has come on the Earth to bless us all.. Wish this festival fills all of you up with positive energies and keeps you waiting for the next year's puja...

Happy Durga Puja to All of You.........

Gangeyyo

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Chapter-II - Why does the Butter Fly??.

-college??.
-course??..(must be psychology)
-year??.
-how did she get my number??..
-orkut profile?.
Shekhar didn't believe that he was actually jotting these random thigs down in his notepad.. He was a mixed bag of emotions.. He couldn't control blocking his brain with Shruti.. Her name, the only thing he knew..
read here...
 
http://thepoppingpill.blogspot.com/

Sunday, September 06, 2009

~~Shifted~~

dear all...
I will post the popping pill in my other blog..
http://thepoppingpill.blogspot.com/

and leave the gangvani alone..
so keep reading and enjoy..
:)

Saturday, September 05, 2009

Chapter 1- -Why does Niagara fall??


24th August, Wednesday:
Hello Diary.. Another very usual Wednesday passes by.. There is something about the wednesdays that make them very boring.. there's something wrong in the name I think.. "Wednes.." well.. whatever.. Ma woke me up at 7.. Got ready by 8 and left for college.. something happened on the return journey..
After Khanna got down at Welcome, I found a seat for myself.. A seat next to the door.. And there I slept.. I slept till the train reached Dilshad Garden.. Reached home in a very non-unusual manner.. Nothing special in the bus.. But Ma was the first one to find the change.. I was carrying a different bag.. I mean it's almost like mine.. but it wasn't mine.. I opened it up and found books of psychology.. 2 of them.. newly bought.. no marks.. no scratches.. and no names.. except the books, the bag had 257 rupees, a comb and many more things.. things bout it were enough to conclude that it belongs to a girl.. my bag didn't have anything thief-worthy.. so i was not that perturbed.. But Ma scolded me for being so negligent.. even scolded me for sitting on the net till late, for which my sleep remains incomplete... well have to sleep early tonight.. it's 10:43pm.. good night diary.. i guess, "miss bag" is also getting scolded somewhere.. he he.. good night.. :)) and yess.. please give good marks to Rahul in this semester.. bye bye..

and Shekhar switched off his laptop.. Though he thought of sharing this event with Rahul, but he had to sleep early.. and even though he wished his diary good night, but he couldn't sleep that easily.. He was thinking about her, the girl, whose bag lied next to his bed.. Will she call tomorrow??.. How will she get my number??.. How does she look like??.. Isn't there any way that I can reach her??..
and he searched the bag once again.. like for the 17th time..
no clues.. no phone number except Sheena's.. he had already tried that number and found it out of service.. but he tried again.. only to listen to the operator's voice.. he listened to the full message (for the 17th time).. both in Hindi and English..
"the number you are trying to reach is temporarily out of service"..
kept the phone down..
Miss Bag was climbing over his head.. He couldn't stop imagining the girl.. He found it very fascinating to craft a girl using the objects she uses.. a game never-played-before..
The vaseline Lipguard, helped him shaping her lips, the comb gave her long curly hairs, the fair and lovely pouch lent a fair and lovely face.. her eyes, her nose.. everything was being filled..
Though he was unwilling to admit this to himself.. though he kept telling himself that this was nothing out of ordinary.. But the voice in his head were disproving his gestures.. He was feeling awkward.. this was perhaps his closest approach to any girl.. any girl!..
Hailing from an ultra-conservative family, the word love was very very close to SIN for Shekhar.. he never wanted to be around girls only because he was never let to.. not that his hormones weren't functioning properly, but his hypothalamus was seldom excited.. The first time he saw a porn movie in Ashu's hostel room, the first fluid that came out of him was his very own puke..
so.. this unknown bag had an evident impact..
so he got up the next day.. less excited.. more hopeful.. the dreams about her had soothed him a bit.. he left the house with a strange feeling.. something in the air was different..
he hesitated to share what had happened last day with anyone.. no one noticed the bag-change.. and at around 1:30 as he was sitting with Dhawal and Khanna, his phone rang...
unknown number.. (dhak dhak)..
"hello"..
"hi.. i think i have your bag with me.. and you have mine.."
(dhak dhak)*2
"yeah yeah yeah.. i know.. i know... hello"..
"ya.. can i have my bag back?".. bold..
"ummm... y y ya.. shh.. shh.. sure.. when??. where??."..(dhak dhak)*4.."mm.. mmay i know who's speaking?".*(dhak dhakk)*8..
"Shruti"..

(to be continued...)

Sunday, August 30, 2009

A Popping Pill..


Prologue
----------------------------

There are times when you feel very low, when you feel that the entire world is conspiring against you, when everything you do or plan to do result in a failure even before it gets started in the right alignment...
But there are times when you feel on top of the world.. when you feel the life running through your veins with every breadth you take.. When you thank God for gifting you a splendid life.. the case with Shekhar and Shruti.. A sense of achievement when he finally held Shruti in her arms, filled his eyes with tears... The same eyes which challenged the world, challenged his own people, challenged the stringent society were now softened and calmed with the tears of joy..
"I promise I will never let you spend a single moment without that beautiful smile of yours.. I will make sure it never sways..", he whispered..
"I am happy to be with you", she replied.. concisely pretty like always..
And he hugged her even tighter.. wishing the moment never passes away.. wishing he could stop the time.. remembering the struggle they both went through to make way for this moment..
he closed his eyes with the purest of satisfaction...
(to be continued..)

Monday, July 27, 2009

As Delhi Rains...


Of a variety of things I like a propos Delhi, Delhi’s extremity is what pleases me to the Boro’s coverage. If the wintry weather is horrendously chilly (.. and you have to twist the taps of your bathroom on, to see whether the temperature had fallen afar 0 degrees or not,) then be assured that the temperature in the summer will bluster you away with the never-resting mercury climbing the ever-est… and same follows in the monsoons… Ahaaa…

As the rains outside this 8 inch wall, very intentionally step to it’s 4th hour scuttle, I can’t help getting jubilant. The view from the balcony, is quiet a sight and it was hard getting myself in, to write this. I wonder how my perspective of rains has changed over the years.. Earlier I used to think of it as foe, a problem-creating agent which will disrupt the days cricket. But this year it was a necessity…

So.. my fifth cup of tea gets drained out..(God save my complexion.. he he).. Time to go back to the balcony.. Happy Rainy Season to all of you…

PS: thegangvani has stepped into it’s second year of being.. I will the opportunity to thank my friends a lot without whom this wouldn’t have been possible.. Ohh.. Such a bigg cliché.. but really, thank you all..

Friday, June 19, 2009

The Kite Runner


“For you, a thousand times over!!..”

recipe of certain expressions does certainly craft enchantment.. They glue to your sanity like they belong there.. You get instilled by the thoughts, the author wants you to.. Paralyzed by the over-flowing feelings.

Written by Khaled Hosseini, rather woven by him, this book encircles around a boy- Amir.. His growing up and the swaying proceedings around him that finally translates him into a man.

Afghanistan, as never imagined.. Love, odium, clashes, battles.. the rambling yarn has it all to court the readers, yet they seem so natural, so genuine.. Connected events of Amir’s life and his attainment of the goal, leave the reader attached to him in some way or the other.

How often we face a situation that leaves us thinking are we good enough??. We know we are noble and we are not-wrong, but the circumstances test us and we fail.. We don’t come up with the right itinerary of actions that should have been taken at that instant. It challenges our moral and derides our ethics. That changes us.

As the story unfolds, we get simple yet powerful lines like..

“There’s a way to be good again.”,

ending with an open note..

I ran. A grown man running with a swarm of screaming children. But I didn’t care. I ran with the wind blowing in my face, and a smile as wide as the Valley of Panjsher on my lips.

I ran.”

Of all the books I’ve read till now, If I can label any book as a “must read”, then it will be The Kite Runner. Read it to know why!!..

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Dhoni can't Bat Salla... obvious!!..

...SUITS HIM!!.. ISN'T IT??..


The word is out on the streets now.. well observed.. established...

If Pappu can’t dance…

If Himesh can’t sing…

If Orangutans can’t fly..

And if Saitans can’t swim…

Dhoni cannot Bat…


and m sure whoever watched the T20 yesterday between India and long(est)-time-rivals England, can't deny this..

I was always two-minded about Dhoni’s batting brilliance.. While one part believed in his stats.. (the batsman with the healthy average plays good.. matter of fact everyone!!) and another part (which watched the matches and) thought.. that how come a first-rate batsman hit the ball with full vigor on the leg side, yet the ball goes grudgingly to the off??.. well..

How can a “celebrity” batsman, a specialist captain, a mutiny in Indian willow-ers, coming out to the crease with almost half the innings left, and on stage-ing till the end, making sure his country doesn’t win the must-win match (even by fluke), remain unscathed.. so here I go Mr. Dho.. (call him star and I’ll give you glasses…)

I kept on telling myself, that he can’t be such an idiot.. he must have made some strong stratagem and must be playing with a vow to win.. but as I saw the overs passing by, and didn’t discern any change of approach in our *star* batsman’s way of handling the wood, Mr. DHO-GO jst lost one half of a not-against-dhoni cricket follower…

At the end of 17th over, I saw the opponent captain wearing a more tense look than our no-emo-for-the-promo captain… Collinwood, knew he was on the verge of wining, still made sure everything was perfect.. but our doodh-oni was as cool as cucumber… He was sure we were going to loose.. “so why take pain??”.. All I had for him were slang s!.. I was literally uttering them in a high voice.. With every planned-looking single he took, I couldn’t control my urge to hate him.. and slangs were coming out for gratis..

Well.. the way he’s always been.. “all show no skill”.. at the end he registered a good-looking crush of only 3 runs.. but had Yusuf Pathan been out(was almost slayed by a run-out.. dhoni again), it could easily have been 30… hitting his 3rd boundary off the last delivery(-the only boundary he hit.. rest were knicks!!..) the captain walked out off Lord’s.. the same ground where India once lifted the World Cup in spite of being overly under-rated… the World Champions of T20 were literally punted out of the tournament which they(along with the whole country) believed belonged to them.. as said.. //there is a lot to cry for at the end, when the end is gloomy//… I was over-flowing with rage.. all of which cannot be described..

I turned the pages of the newspaper the next day, and saw..

MS DHONI--30 runs off 20 balls..

and I didn’t bother to read the rest.. didn’t bother to read his clarification that it’s a game, winning and loosing bear equal probabilities blahh blHHH..

And as the day progressed I learned I was not alone.. some effigies were burnt too..(not that I feel overjoyed about it).. but we all have our way to show anger.. And as the rage didn’t get any milder in 24 hours, I decided to post this..

Hope he reads this!!.

Saturday, June 06, 2009

Click Here To Continue Anyways...


ahh.. finally connected!!.. two months exile from the blogger's spot.. two months without the continuous exposition to the blah blah-ing world.. it felt so empty.. Well.. i finally persuaded my mother to get my mother-board fixed and here am I..
mm.. where shall i start ?.. 6th sem has gone by.. I'm finally in the final year.. Seniors have left.. The days before the exams in the hostel were indeed very specially happening.. I'm so happy for two new chirping lovebirds on the block.. (how could i ignore? whn one of them nests in the next room!!.. A+A.. he he.. ;))
I lost my darling mobile phone in mysterious circumstances.. it felt so odd when people asked,"Kaise khoya??".. and i had no answers.. for i didn't know myself how i lost it.. then came the papers.. ohh!!.. Advanced Design of RCC was the first of the fists!!.. i wud refrain from describing it.. was that supposed to be a quetion-paper for under-gradu-'ate's??.. (it ate us well no doubt).. then there were battles between the worth of studying "sewage engineering" and the same-boring-repeating inductors and capacitors with my electroniac friends.. i had a strong ground.. as the others were studying about the same thing for over 2 years.. no variation.. no changing paths.. but here we(civil-ites) were designing western and indian POTS for 'healthy' sewering.. ha ha.. the last exam on 21st marked the beginning..(in super senses) heeh..
The temperature of Delhi is reaching new mercuric heights.. having to deal with an on-site construction in these super-standard conditions, is what I'm getting trained on .. well the office work seemed very funny in the first week.. there are some people who i guess have been hired jst to sit there.. I saw one of them  finding all the pleasure in the world in jst refreshing his desktop again and again.. like around 15 times.. When he was satisfied with his ultra-refreshed desktop and saw me looking at him(was i smiling??.), he opened the 'my computer' and closed it and repeated the cycle.. Oh boy!!.. that man really had a huge role to play for his company..


I'm reading "The Kite Runner" these days and wish it never finishes.. so have further reduced my slow reading speed.. And Green Day's 21st century breakdown is on download.. 21 Guns is a very good track indeed..
well.. will soon blahh some-thing about sum-thing beacuse i want to be some-thin..

PS.. @swayam.. i searched for the advaita downloads a lot.. didn't even get a single track.. help me out!!..

TIP OF the EVENING by baba AAM-SEV::- if you want to bring about a change in your way of living, go and change your guitar strings.. and if you don't have a guitar, change your Agarbatti!!.. keep the spirit alive.. :) khao mango..jiyo apple..
:)
god bless..!!

Friday, March 27, 2009

Kudos to Kudos!!..


Why??.. Again?.. just why??..
march inside THE class tenth… the first life-size exam of your life, and you get to know that yours is the first bunch to get a fresh alienated syllabus… same happens in class XIIth.. Sit for the dreamt IIT-JEE and get a devil of a question paper… (Was it??.. It was more like convoluted torment agenda..).. Well.. Save your ass and get into DCE..(Semi-dreamt!!).. and after chafing that much-saved ass for three ‘learning’ years, prepare your temporal lobe to collect some perilous signals like, ”defer letter”.. “No score- no core”.. “Cancellation of offers”.. and whatnot.. I mean.. is this done??.. no..aaannnn…
Well.. life’s been grand sans these outlandish proceedings… the much puffed up Placement coordinator elections took place today, and I’m happy that someone steadfast from the hostel has claimed(almost) the much coveted post.. Murky politics, tattooed backstabs, all the ingredients were very much present this time around making the voting a delicious cocktail of emotions.. I think we Indians are born political.. It’s like our mother language.. even though you go far away and experience all the possible conditions to forget that lexis, but still, you manage to throw some words and speak it whenever you get a chance… it never leaves you.. that’s what happened.. even we are so not-political on our face, but kaboomm… we are Indians..
The much awaited, (rather dreaded) Vth semester results burst out.. I managed to score 62.51%.. Though I betted for something around 55% going by the stinky loose-motion of the exams I gave.. but I breathed a sigh of relief… only 3 guys (or 4) managed to score above 70..( I hope you are noticing the defense I intend to present, stating this very fact.. he he(blink of the left eye)haha..).. so now the Vth semi is out, we have fetched all we could, to fill into our CV barrels.. Come company, and take me.. Not my marks..(nice slogan)..
The whole process of filling the CV, getting clicked suited-up!!.. Makes me feel big.. Funny but true!!…
Well.. Nothing more to blabber.. I flushed out everything in a very short time.. The pigeon in my balcony has been successful to crack her eggs and bring out two more pigeons.. But the father pigeon is no where to be seen.. My mom calls her “khuttni”.. whatta name!!.. But I’ve got doubts about her identity as the last time a pigeon laid eggs, she was also called “khutni”.. so this fertile khutni is keeping very busy feeding her baby khutnis…
well.. have a happy rest-session.. and may god help recession…
dasvidaniya…

Monday, January 26, 2009

Bon-HoMo-EEE..


Some things in life reside perpetually… even if you crave to forget them, still, they fancy remaining super glued to your grey cells.. they turn up at certain events and leave that slight grin on your face.. the grin that reminds you of how disgusted you felt, living that moment.. They are bad experiences.. you never want to live them again.. and every time that memory pops out, you are left saying, “Oh!!.. How foolish was I..”

Well.. I have been jammy enough to breathe some awful experiences.. I was caught red-handed while “using” the staff toilet(ladies) in school.. I was convicted of writing a shitty love-letter to a girl of my class, who happened to be the daughter of a senior teacher… the crime I never committed.. Words will fall short if I start mentioning all of them..

But the one who sits at the top, will surely get the limelight.. This thing happened about a year back.. so.. celebrating it’s about-anniversary, I’m going to narrate this unfortunate yet funny yet seriously disturbing episode.. it was my first encounter with a Homo…(kids.. leave the page now!.)

Winters 2007.. freshly out of the torturous third semester exams, we all were desperately trying to kill time.. have fun.. go out.. enjoy.. it’s very often that I plan an exhilarating holiday well before.. and nothing ever happens..

I met my school friends in Mayur Vihar and signed them goodbye by 7:30pm.. my exterior wasn’t that eye-catching.. Un-brushed long curly hairs were un-wholly matched by the misplaced unbalanced goatee of mine(only if you call it.. I Call It..) a bus was going to drop me at Noida More from MV.. and another would take me to my place..

The bus arrived.. jam-packed.. hardly any space to stand.. I got into the bus (I love packed out places).. I managed to stand beside the conductor’s seat, near-the-rear door.. just as the bus began to move, I raised my hand above to hold the overhead rails.. THIS was my only mistake..

Well.. my hand didn’t touch the rail first, but another hand.. There was a short baldy guy, standing just beside me wearing a Denim Jacket.. very very complicatedly designed..(Fresh out of Paris.. haah).. a jeans with those creepers and climbers design on them with some shiny glittering dots.. a popped out belly which was very carelessly covered by his skin-tight-fluorescent-red-colored-T-Shirt… The faint light inside the bus, didn’t provide any help to his dark complexion.. and on the top of it… he was wearing dark goggles.. Dreadfully over-sized for his juvenile fat face.. I was just hoping that this guy didn’t boast a girl friend.. because if he did, I would have died of self disrespect.. now I wish that he had one...

Just as I removed my hand away from his in a cavort, the guy quiet Rajnikantingly removed his gogs and placed them strategically over his head..(or forehead.. a small face makes it hard to discern..).. and smiled..

“I’m very sorry..” I smiled back.. DCE etiquettes shine on..

I guess his smile widened.. now I could study his yellowish, ghutka chomped, paan red-ened tooth.. he was wearing metal necklaces too.. I wish I had the camera to click those multi-colored tooth structure.. well.. the smile was anything but pleasing.. I smiled again and turned away..

There are occasions when some people stare at you and even without staring at them back, you feel him/her gape you..

That man.. the boyish-man.. hadn’t turned his gaze away.. he was looking straight at me.. and it was perturbing.. I looked at the closed window pane which reflected my face and searched for any funny faults.. but it was alright.. I could see him look at me.. without a single blink.. that irritating good-boy smile on his face.. I could see that in his reflection too..

why??.. why me??.. there are hundred others.. look at them.. IS she a girl??.. dressed like a boy.. no.. she wasn’t.. after battling with baffling questions and getting no fruitful answers, I managed to ask..

“kya hai??..”

words came out for the first time from my redundant spectator.. and what he spoke will be etched in my psyche for years to come..

“Jo tereko chahiye.. Wahi mereko chahiye..”..

That did it…

Hells broke loose.. I was horrified.. disgusted.. appalled.. it is hard to clarify the way I felt.. on one hand I wanted to punch this moron off the running bus, but on the other, I was afraid even to utter a single word.. I started pushing myself back.. towards the last seats.. and decided against giving any heed to the fatso.. and all this time he didn’t bother to look away.. all his attention was mine.. He got down at Akshardham..  Even while de-boarding, he turned back and looked at me.. But I didn’t move a single inch.. I got down at Noida More.. reached home, called the one I was visiting, and laughed the horror off..

 

Well.. I may not be good at judging people.. I may be thinking a way too much.. may be the line meant something else.. “jo tereko chahiye.. wahi mereko chahiye”.. may be he’s talking about a seat.. or a girl friend.. he he… whatever.. he didn’t know how to behave with people.. or straight people for that matter...

I have developed a certain amount of amnesty for homosexuals these days.. specially after hearing Raghu (Roadies) , that according to some philosopher, the ones who oppose or curse homosexuality are homosexual in themselves.. true.. why should we indulge into the likes and passions of some other individuals… Talking of India, if the films like Fashion, Dostana, gets an approval of public viewing, then who knows, the IPC may consider reshaping its section 377… but the straights should be left alone too.. Dostana must regain it’s true meaning..

.. no doubts the metro announcer reminds us everyday…

“kripya anjaan aadmiyon se dosti na karein”..

haah…
PS: Khanna.. thnx for the inspiration you povided to give birth to this post.. long live our Dostana..         

Wednesday, January 07, 2009

Once Upon a Time.. in a Lifetym..


Hey… My bloggy associates… The fresh Year is here.. (as if u didn’t discern..).. Happy New Year to all of you.. may all your dreams and wishes come true this year.. and may you all gain some mass..  well.. 31st night was never this amusing… I mean, no parties, no orgies, no DJs can contest the feel I underwent rejoicing my 21st new year.. Swami Ram Tirth ashram never appeared so splendid… My classmates never felt so balmy… I never had so much pleasure playing the six strings.. The blaze never seemed so inviting.. The World never looked so happy..


Well.. at around 10:30pm, girls got the consent to stay outside their rooms till 12.. Gupta and me cajoled the ashram guard to permit us the entrée to the woods lying in the backyard.. and at around 11:30pm, the flames began to shoot.. natives around, started filling themselves.. The entire horde clustered around the fire.. The chilly winds carried the poignant news of the demise of 2008.. the 2008 that will never be back in our lives.. the 2008 which had ups and downs for all of us.. but the fire presented enough warmth to declare the gifted arrival of 2009.. The baby was ready to open her eyes..

well.. I had no problems in clouding the frivolous brain with such fillo-sophisticated thoughts.. It was a moment when I hoped the clock was moving slow.. allowing me to live more of it.. Gulp it down… save it.. never let it go..

Jitendra started the proceedings with a spectacular piece of his own poetry.. the poem dyed the unique events of the year.. it was followed by songs from akash, nitin, dheeraj and me.. Songs of love.. Songs of life.. everybody joined.. it was like a dream chorus.. then Gunveer started the Countdown.. from 60…59…58…57… 3..2..1.. yayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy…

All of us jumped up in the air.. the fire got brighter.. the smiles got wider.. the heart throbbed faster.. Good wishes were exchanged.. Hugs were passed on.. The entire ambience made us feel lucky.. The clear Dehradun sky welcomed us to the new year.. The unseen, unknown 365 days ahead.. It was time for some sound.. Nitin’s “Haishya”.. Gupta’s “ari ari ari”.. slogans involved everyone.. it was animesh’s birthday.. and I’m sure he’ll remember it forever... Even Raju Sir couldn’t defy the feel.. he also sang a few songs.. I mussay he is a fine Singer..( Thank You sir… for never letting us feel who the boss was.. you were more like a friend.. another student.. one from us..).. Following the DCE off-time sacrament, none of the girls returned to their rooms at 12.. and there were no one to push them back.. people answered the phone calls.. chatted around..

It was a memorable night.. but the Camp Fire night was triple the fun.. I’ll write about it soon...

Till then… Happy New Year to all of you……

..Late it Be.. be-letted..

Bhavnao Ko Samjho..

PS: excuse the author for the ungrammatical Title..

:)(: