Monday, December 21, 2009
Saturday, November 28, 2009
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
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Monday, September 28, 2009
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
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.........
Sunday, September 20, 2009
-course??..(must be psychology)
-how did she get my number??..
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..
Sunday, September 06, 2009
Saturday, September 05, 2009
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)..
"hi.. i think i have your bag with me.. and you have mine.."
"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..
(to be continued...)
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Monday, July 27, 2009
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
“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.
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
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
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..
Friday, March 27, 2009
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…
Monday, January 26, 2009
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 .. 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
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..
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…
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
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 , 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 , 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
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..