शैतानियत

My first attempt at Hindi "poetry," if you can call it so.

n00bness, possibly, but who gives a bull?

एक बार

शैतानों के सरदार ने

सभी शैतानों को बुलाया.

उसकी आँखें लाल

चेहरे का जलाल

देखकर

हर शैतान घबराया!

शैतान गुर्राया

"काफिरों!

क्या तुम लोग

इस कदर

डर गए हो

इंसान से?"

कुछ क्षण की

शान्ति के बाद

सहमा हुआ एक बूढा शैतान

बोला

"हाँ सरदार,

हम हार गए हैं

इंसान हमसे भी

बाज़ी मार गए हैं.

हम कांपने लगे हैं

आंसुओं और आँहों से.

इंसान डरता नहीं मगर

बड़े बड़े गुनाहों से.

धर्म और ईमान

सबका अर्थ बदल गया है

इंसान हमसे बहुत

आगे निकल गया है.

हम तो सिर्फ अपना

खौफ दिखाते हैं

पर इंसान तो

इंसान को ही खा जाते हैं!

सही और गलत

सबका अर्थ बदल गया है

इंसान हमसे बहुत

आगे निकल गया है.

बस सरदार

हमसे अब ये

और बर्दाश्त किया नहीं जाता.

सच्चाई को सामने देखकर भी

उसे अनदेखा किया नहीं जाता.

हम अब इस तरह

शांत नहीं बैठने वाले

अपने अस्तित्व के खात्में का

मूकदर्शक नहीं बनने वाले.

हमें भी अब

कुछ करना होगा.

शैतानियत की हद से

गुज़रना होगा.

हमें भी अब

इंसान बनना होगा.

हाँ सरदार, हमें भी अब

इंसान बनना होगा.

Puke

Puke, yes that's what they do. All around me. Puke, all the time. Puke out stupidity, puke out irrationality. And that, that makes me puke too.
You thought the world was a fantastic place with fantastic people all around waiting to do nice things all the time, people who think for the good, people who can logically deduce what is good for them and for others, all the fucking time. What you don't realise is that the optimism they display is a fucking joke. To survive, you have to slit someone else's throat, directly or indirectly.
Humanity developed, they said, and that development makes them far superior than all other living beings and shit.
But who is to vouch for the fact that all this development was actually good for you? What significance do you have, a tiny speck in this swarming flood of six hundred million assholes, born to survive, and dying in that attempt to survive.
The world, my friend, is a pileful of morbid shit, courtesy us. When Holmes said he didn't give a boot if the earth goes round the sun or otherwise...I couldn't agree more with him. He knew as much as was needed to do his work, and for the rest of the idle time he lazied around injecting cocaine into himself. I don't think Holmes died an unsatisfied man, no way. Holmes was not crazy.
But you are, my friend. You crave for recognition, recognition amongst all those people who puke around, all the time. Why the should you, my friend? Have you no sense of time? I'll tell you what you should do: Not give a fuck! Yes, exactly. Try not giving a fuck as to what they think about you. If you can get enough to survive, as well as be happy, what else do you need? But then, again, you've been doped since your birth, you've been shown the upper limits of two hundred different things, without actually being shown the shady path of actually reaching the upper limit. And you fooled yourself into thinking that it was your upper limit too. You, at that very moment, fucked up your chance to be happy. A mistake which can only be rectified after a lot of sense is instilled in you, and that, my friend, is not an easy process. Till then, listen to the pukish shit, and puke around. Oh yeah, of course, there's always your saviour. God. When you meet him, give him a nice kick on his butt, from my side.

Yeah, I'm fucking grass-ed. So what? The very fact that you have nothing better to do than to read my insignificant pile of shit shows how big an asshole you are. No worries. I'm with you. Asshole.

Patriotism; a positive trait?

Ever since my mind was developed enough to think sensibly, I never had a thing for patriotism. Of course, I always supported India in an India versus any other country's cricket match, but that was because I had to take one side, and there was no logic behind taking the side of the other country, of course. I never was "proud" of my country, to be honest. To be "proud" of your country, you need to have something in the country to be proud of. You need only to switch on your television and watch the national news channel for one hour to get numerous reasons for not being proud of your country. When shit happens before your own eyes, it's very difficult to ignore it and continue believing in those doctrines which have been taught to you since your birth.

No, I do not intend to give the points why I think India is way behind other countries and reasons why "we" are still backward and stuff like that, because such a list of points will of course not adhere to the word limit of a blog-post (whatever it may be). People may say, as they always say, "baatein to sabhi karte hain, par kisiko kuch karna nahin hai desh ko sudhaarne ke liye!" This is one of the most nonsensical statements I've come across with. They mean to say, that to get a good life for yourself, first you have to "sudhaaro apna desh" and then expect anything good for yourself. How fucking retarded. Why can't I, as an individual of the world, have the right to get the best facilities available for myself, wherever in the world they may be? Why can't I expect a society which has minimal corruption, which actually works according to a set of laws of the land, and where you can expect to live a good and comfortable life being a common moderate individual and not a person with radical views of "changing the country?" Why do I have to be stuck in a place I know is not as good as some other place in the world just for a display of my patriotism? I can find no good reason, not one.

Coming out of India in particular, and talking about patriotism in general, I could never find a logic behind being patriotic about any country. As far as I think, a country is not a discernible collection of discernible individuals like a team or a faculty or a local chapter of a voluntary association. Of course a country is a delimited territory. It is also a place, a setting, a geography; it has a landscape, cityscapes, perhaps seascapes; it has old buildings as well as new ones; it has historical sights; it has a light, an air, an atmosphere; it has a special look. But it is also constructed out of transmitted memories true and false; a history usually mostly falsely sanitized or falsely heroized; a sense of kinship of a largely invented purity; and social ties that are largely invisible or impersonal, indeed, abstract, yet by an act of insistent or of dream-like imagination made visible and personal.

What, then, is patriotism really? It is a readiness to die and to kill for an abstraction: nothing you can see all of, or feel as you feel the presence of another person, or comprehend. Patriotism, then, is a readiness to die and to kill for what is largely a figment of the imagination. For this figment, one commits oneself to a militarized and continuously politicized conception of life, a conception that is entirely masculinist.

I ask us to notice that an abstraction of the sort I say patriotism is, is not the same thing as a principle. There is a very sharp contrast between a readiness to die and kill for an abstraction and a readiness to do the same for a principle. A principle must be universal, but an abstraction can have any scope. To embrace a principle, which is of course abstract in some sense, is to pledge oneself to a rule to guide one’s perception of the world and, if one has sufficient integrity, to guide one’s conduct in it. A moral principle…governs one’s conduct toward others, and the expectations one had to the conduct of others. A moral principle must be conceived as universalist, and asks for consistent application; and it aims at respect for persons or individuals, not abstract entities of imagination. There is also a sharp contrast between an abstraction like patriotism and a tangible interest like being protected or preserved in one’s rights of life, liberty, and property, for which purpose it may also sometimes be thought necessary to risk death and to kill.

The highest moral principles teach restraint of self-preference, whether the self is oneself or a group-self; while, on the other hand, a person’s basic rights and tangible self-interest, in a tolerable society, are supposed to be practiced or achieved without morally cognizable harm to the same rights and interests of others. In contrast, patriotism is self-idealization; it is group narcissism without any self-restraint except for a frequently unreliable prudence, and carried to death-dealing lengths. Patriotism is one of the more radical forms of group-thinking, or group identity and affiliation. I will never consider it as a positive trait for any individual.

Yes, I will still support India in an India v/s any other country's sporting event, but don't expect myself to remain here just for the sake of patriotism, in case I am getting to live a better quality of life anywhere else in the world. Not a chance.

Things You'll NEVER Hear Them Say

Richard Dawkins: Science? Oh C'mon, God created it! Amen.

Pope Benedict XVI: Hey nigga, fuck you man!

Happy Potter (on watching Hermionie use the Levitation Charm towards the end of their fifth year at Hogwarts): Hey, that was like, real MAGIC, girl! How could you do that?

Karthik C.S: Oye launde chal daaru peeke aate hain!

Prateek Chaturvedi: Dude, you really consume alcohol? Don't you know it's prohibited out here?

Michael Jackson: KEEP THOSE LITTLE KIDS AWAY FROM ME! I hate 'em.

Holden J. Caufield: Who me? I'm real stupid.

Mahatma Gandhi: Maaro saale ko! Maaro!

Andrew Wiles: How did I prove what? Oh that?! It was just a random dream...

Arpan Saha: Masturbation? Err...what's what? (looks up in his e-dictionary)

Arpan Saha: RG? Who's she? (looks up in his facebook friends' list)

Anuj Shah: Hey, let's bunk tomorrow's IC lecture man, that prof. is so boring!

Oscar Wilde: Woo...that chick was hot!

Uncyclopedia founder: Oscar Wilde? Who the fuck is he?

Max Payne: I think I should sleep for a while, you know. I'm tired.

Sambre: Yaar PJ mat maar...meri khap jaati hai.

Kanitkar: Hostel enthu? Kya fart hai!

Mood-I CG: Acads pe dhyaan do, baaki sab fart hai.

Rakhi Sawant: I was AIR 73, IIT-JEE 1999.

India TV News Reader: Aur ab kuch aam khabrein...

Suryateja Gavva: I got a girlfriend!

AIR 1: I had a girlfriend!

Salhotra: Abey hostel elections ke chakkar mein mat pado, jaao midsem ke liye mugo!

Random Gulti: Main is parivesh mein dhal chuka hoon.

Random Ghati: Main is parivesh mein dhal chuka hoon.

Atal Bihari Vajpayee: *Says something*

Navjot Siddhu: *Keeps his mouth shut*

Harshvardhan: Mera bandiyon se give-up ho gaya hai yaar!

Srinath: Chemistry?? How bowwring!

DOSA: Here, boys, I have some 20 lakhs this year to contribute to Mood-I. Will that be enough? And you can always take my car.

Ravindra Jadeja: And then I hit that elegant cover drive....

Ashish Nehra: Hey, me too!

Vishy Anand: Let's play some cricket.

Dilip Tirkey: I was thinking about some chess though...

IITB Director: We don't need no...education...

Mihir Mogre: Chalo mentees...kal Rodas mein treat hai meri.

Sherlock Holmes: You're completely correct, Watson!

Watson: Oh yeah? Gimme some cocaine then.

Himanshu: Hindustani Classical? Dude, that's so old fashioned!

Hannibal Lectar: Vegetarian, is the way to be!

Ketav: Alright, enough! I won't show my teeth, EVER!

Majin-Buu: GOKU?? He's stronger than me! I won't fight him!

Jack Sparrow: Spare his life! Take mine.

Dhruv Vijay Mairal: Pr0n should be banned in NUJS.

Salman Rushdie: English, my friend, should be as simple as possible!

Rahul Sharma: Ma**r C**d! Teri Maa Ka Bh***a!

Master Chief: That hunter was pretty cute, no?

Rajnikanth: I can't fly.

Me: You say I'm just GOOD at debating? I'm GOD at debating! And that's the freaking point!

-I know I missed loads of them...I hope you guys contribute more through comments. I'll publish the good ones. :D

Chimpu...and Nothing to Do!

After all these months of inactivity, I actually have nothing significant to post. Honestly. You really have to be in a "mood" to start typing a blog post, and most importantly finish it. There are approximately half a dozen posts which I started and got up to 50%, and then abandoned them for reasons not properly known even to myself. Other than laziness, I mean. I hope I'll finally get the enthusiasm to finish them and post them soon. Hope runs the world. :D

Hey by the way, have you ever seen a dog chasing it's tail? Hahaha...it's so funny I tell you! I went to my neighbour's yesterday and they have this cute pomeranian who always comes around and keeps licking my feet. I went to their place after like, a year and he still remembered me! Dogs are more faithful than humans, I tell you. Go to a close friend's place after a year and he'll be like "Who are you? Fuck off, bitch!" Ok, at least my friends are that way. The bastards. Pomeranians are so much better.

So I was chatting with my neighbour, who unfortunately had to repeat his 12th standard, yet AGAIN! I never understood why that guy isn't serious at all towards his career. Even his parents are so aloof. It kills me. And that auntie, she's so phoney! She's the types who'll talk so sweetly and all with you when you're around but behind your back she'll be the first one to curse you. I hate such aunties. No wonder her son is a complete rascal.

Ok so, coming back to the point, as soon as the dog was finished licking my feet, it suddenly jumped down the stairs (we were sitting on the stairs), and started running around frantically, chasing its tail. I never understood why dogs love to chase their tails so much. Some people say that the poor creatures think their tail is some sort of a prey. But then, c'mon, even if dogs initially see their tails as bushy little squirrels, it shouldn't take them long to realize their mistake. I mean, they remember you even after they see you after a goddamn year, man. They can't be so stupid, no.

It's quite possible that some dogs catch a glimpse of their tails, get excited, and without thinking about it try to catch the pesky things. They rarely succeed, of course, but they still keep trying to chase them down, not once or twice, but all the time! They may simply think it's fun, specially when people they live with think it's fun too. Dogs generally happen to enjoy an appreciative audience, as much as I've learned from my experience of observing their habits. When they discover that something gets them a lot of attention, they'll keep doing it.

But this has a downside...some dogs will keep on performing their act even when the curtains are down! So with no one around, they still keep on chasing their tails, and then they run themselves ragged until they collapse in a panting heap on the floor.

And then they get up and do it again. Just like Chimpu did that day. Yes, Chimpu, that's the name that my neighbour has given to his dog. What a name! Chimpu. Couldn't he think of anything better and a little more sophisticated? No wonder that guy failed twice in his 12th.

So after an hour I was going back again, and Chimpu got up, started wagging it's tail and started licking my feet again. That dog is so nice I tell you! He hardly barks and always does crazy and funny things with people around (and sometimes when they aren't too). I almost felt like asking him about his tail-chasing sessions and all, and explaining to him why it was futile and why he'd never be able to make it unless his tail grows as long as a buffalo's. But then I realized I was not that good a communicator with dogs, so I decided against it. Chimpu is quite cute though, you know. Chimpu, what a name!

Anyway, enough of my idiocy, I just had to post something coz I hadn't since the last three months, plus I was in no mood of writing emo/psychological/philosophical/how_should_one_live_his_life_to_be_happy stuff this time round. And hence Chimpu. Hahaha. :|

And as a good friend of mine signs off,

Peace,

Rapunz.......uhuh!!

Anupam. :)

The Fake Einstein

I had no idea why Albert, my new research assistant, had come up with such absurd a solution to so simple a problem which I had presented before him. Just the other day, I was discussing with him stuff related to the constancy of the speed of light in various frames. Something which I infer to be true, of course contrary to the general belief. I've always been uncomfortable with the status quo of time being constant irrespective of the newtonian reference frame it is in. Even though Physicists in general might consider this idea to be totally looney, there is this "something is wrong somewhere" feeling which has been bugging me for a long time now.

Unable to bear the confusion and restlessness any more, I called up Albert up to my office that night, after finally formulating a much simpler solution and, more importantly, a correct solution to the "relativity problem," as I called it, than what he had earlier come up with. Albert was one of the most promising guys under me, always enthusiastic to learn something new, and never afraid to think unconventionally. Needless to mention, he never considered me to be a lunatic.

"Albert! Good to see you up here! Please take your seat."

"Sir, why did you call me up at this point of time at night? Anything really important?"

"Albert, the solution you gave me, it was incorrect, and rather clumsy, to be honest."

Not actually being aware of my to-the-point talks, Albert looked a bit offended at my comment.

"Well sir, I thought I'd rather understood the problem very well, and I couldn't find a flaw in my solution, though I admit it was somewhat complicated and lengthy."

"The only flaw in it was that it was incorrect. And you made me strain a lot over the problem because you made it unnecessarily difficult. Look here, the velocity transformation equation you've used to convert the velocity from one inertial frame to another, doesn't actually take into consideration the simple result: If you take a speed much lesser than the speed of light in vacuum, this equation should give way to the classical velocity transformation equation, for it has been verified by experiments. The simple fact that it didn't, was enough for me to conclude that you solution was incorrect."

Albert pondered over that equation, and finally agreed to it's incorrectness.

"But sir, this might surely be a small mistake, and can be rectified isn't it?"

"It can't, sadly, because you've used the same equation to derive loads of other equations in your solution. In short, it is useless."

"Then you surely can give me a better solution, sir? Have you come up with it?"

"Yes I have, Albert, and that's why I called you up here now. I derived these equations mathematically, using just the basic two postulates as my defining laws. I feel that this solution is much simpler and, actually the correct one."

Albert went through the solution intensely. After a lot of cogitation he replied:

"Perfect, sir! Do you have any idea that this could create history, and that the very basics of newtonian mechanics will be directly challenged? I'm not sure that this would be accepted without a lot of ruckus amongst the Physicists and scientists in general. You must be prepared for replies to loads of questions, sir, I must warn you. This isn't going to be easy at all. Are you sure you have a strong basis for your claim?"

"I have, Albert, and for the betterment of science in general, it is no good that this theory should be confined within these four walls. I will send all related papers to Princeton, and other copies to other big universities. We can call it the 'New Theory of Relativity.'"

"Yes, the 'New Theory of Relativity', by Albert Einstein!"

"What? What did you just say, Albert?"

"Shut up, you retarded fool. What on earth did you think? I was working on this stupid problem under a stupid Indian just to sit out and make merry of his fame? hahahaha...this is not going to be the case, my dear sir! I, I will be famous this time. This will be MY theory of Relativity, and I will be the most famous Physicist in this world."

"Surely, Albert, this is most outrageous. Have you gone out of your mind? I don't think you would dare to make this speech if you were sane."

"I am completely normal, you bastard. You do not deserve to be famous. What are you? A rude know-it-all who thinks that he can make anyone work under him and obey his orders even if he behaves with them like they're nobodys? I am a Physicist too, and your monopoly over Physics research is going to end, you Paki rat. YOU are going to end!"

He took out his revolver.

"Albert? What are you doing? Please, NO! Albert, stop! Don't be so selfish...I was not doing all this to become famous, I just wanted to contribute my bit to Science, and Physics. Please, Albert, put down that revolver. I will mention your name, and all the work that you have.........."

"I will listen to no more of your non-sense, you nincompoop."
BANG! BANG!
"Take that! And that!"

"No! No! Spare my life! Noooooo!"

"Abe chutiye 'spare my life...' uth ja, 9 baj gaye. Physics ka tutorial hai. Tabse saale neend mein bake ja raha hai. Pi li thi kya raat ko?"

"Heh? What? Albert?"

"Albert tera baap behnchod. Aankh kholke dekh. Main bhi late ho gaya aaj. Pichli tute bhi tune bunk maari thi, ye wali chale ja nahin to XX lagegi. Abhi uth, brush muh mein daal, aur tute chal. Paagal ho gaya hai saale."

Eh?!?!



~Nuts.

One Man's Land

Into the annals of perpetual complexity did I go,
Illuminated, but, by the succinctness of the incessant curvature,
Of the ever-static, ever-necessary, portrait of anthropology,
Shaped like a double-bow, inviting its victims,
To crush down on it's variable double-flapped terrace.

It started with the very genesis of the human race,
Something so irrevocable, persisting through millenniums,
Surfaces did change, but the course remained the same,
Never was there an ambiguity, never, an iota of shame,
'Coz the cycle of life, hung on, on that very entity!

As into the annals of perpetual complexity did I go,
Yet again, the drowse withstanding,
It rested at the far end, my eventual destiny,
The three lesser brothers, the no-contact ones,
Paving the way, for they'd already been taken...

By those lesser mortals, fear impinged on their brain,
Of breaking down, lest they miss their common tryst.
My tirade never helped, 'twas a battle of equals,
What with the final weapon in my hand, the left one?
I was left helpless, gaping, the last one standing.

So into the annals of perpetual complexity did I go,
Filled with those innumerable regrets, of not waking up,
Soon enough to be able to get in, the Indian Style loos.
Yes, my friends, with serious reservations,
That was the day, I had to use the 'Commode.'


~And I have a Scilab assignment to upload in the next few hours.
~Needless to mention I haven't done a *shit* 'bout it.
~Goddamn.

Quod Erat Demonstrandum \m/

Ek Aankhodekhi Report:

Q.E.D. is the new upcoming death metal\m/ (read thrash, doom, black and blue, death, killer, motherfucking hell, screw you bitch, you're dead if you don't scream your voice-box out) band doing the rounds in the recent underground death metal\m/ scene. This band, like no other band before, takes the death metal\m/ scene to a new height altogether.

In the attempt for a new Guinness record for the highest decibel reached in growling during a death metal\m/ track, this new band broke all previous records, growling for a record four minutes at above hundred and fifty decibels. Five completely sane human beings, who were standing just besides the mega-speakers (after this activity I wonder if you can actually consider them as completely sane) lost their hearing ability, and with that their nonchalant interest in death metal\m/, for ever. As reported by their band manager, Q.E.D. was actually saddened after this news was confirmed, because they had their initial aim of deafening at least ten (so called) sane human beings to make their Guinness record more satisfying and distinct.

The inside story, as I got to know later, was that the only thing Q.E.D. wanted was to reach the top position at the LIVEWIRE\m/ competition in Mood Indigo 2013, the annual cultural festival of IIT-Bombay, which just doesn't look like coming to an end, ever. During my investigation, I also got to know a lot of curious information which was, until now, hidden from the general public. For an example, did you know that more than half of the audience watching the LIVEWIRE\m/ competition (including samples like me), didn't understand the head or tail of whatever crap the Q.E.D. vocalists were ricocheting, but they still were tapping their feet and banging their heads as if they were die-hard 'DEATH METAL\m/ FANATICS' since the day of their arrival on this planet?

Considering the sutta-fanatic judges, who found Mach-3 too expensive to buy, I was sure that Q.E.D. would reach the top of the LIVEWIRE\m/ concert, and so they did. Hypnotizing each and every member of the audience, Q.E.D. finally showed that they were not to be taken lightly in the international Death Metal\m/ Scene. Junta! Get ready for Q.E.D. We're here, and we're GROOOOOOWWWWLLLIINGGGG!

Now for some interesting facts, which will get you goosebumps. Here are the COMPLETE LYRICS of the latest Q.E.D. track, for which there have been two reported suicides already. The poor guys couldn't control their anticipation and excitement and hung themselves to death. Really poor guys.

okay, so back to the lyrics, here they are:

AWWWWWOWWWW GRRROOOOWLLLLIINNGGGGGG WE AREEEE!
AWWWWWOWWWW STILL GRRROWWWLLLINGGGG WE AREEEE!
WHO THE FUCK GIVES A DAMN 'BOUT THE LYRICS!
WE DON'T UNDERSTAND A RAT'S ASS OURSELVESSS!
GROWWWWLLLL GROWWWWWLLLL IT'S FUN TO BE AMONGST SUCH MORONNSSS!
GGGRRRRROOOWWLLLL GROOOOOWLLLL AND GROWLLLL AND WE CANNN SWEAAARRR AT YOU AND NO ONE GETSS A THINGGG!!!
DUMBFUCKS WE'VE BEEN REPEATING THE SAME STANZA FOR THE LAST FIVE MINUTES!
BWAAAAHAHAHAHAAAA THIS IS AWESOMEEEE!

I hope you found it orgasmic. For further updates on the godmaxxx Q.E.D., keep being an asshole and a DEATH-METAL-FANATIC \m/! There's no 'and/or' here.

GRRROOOWWWLLL!!


~ Eleven minutes (if you get the pun, you're awesome) is all that it took. And now I have a job.
~ And yeah, a very Happy New Year, for all those losers who think, yet again, that this year's gonna be the best ever. Take care.
~Oh and how could I forget?

DEATH METAL \m/ FTW!!

And now for the BESTTT PARRRTTT!!

Somewhere You Belong

I believe not that you don't exist,
Though they perpetually say so.
They say it ain't possible, for you to be perfect.
But then you're so perfect, in those occult dreams of mine.
And I have them each time, and you're there, just the same.

You make me feel so great, it ain't possible to explain.
It maybe just your aura, or it is just your speech.
You're ever so beautiful, more from the inside than out.
I feel drunk, doped, insane, yet serene,
You just need to be there, just need to smile.

There's that childish innocence etched into you,
But you're as mature as any other being.
When you speak, planets cease to revolve,
Time stops, and there's nothing but your voice,
Echoing through thin air, enchanting everyone alive...

I know that you exist, for all that is so real.
I know you're no angel, I don't believe in angels.
You're a mortal, born out of your mother's womb,
As any other being, but you're ever so unique,
There's none like you, coz you are impeccable.

Yes, you are, and you'll come out of those dreams,
And kiss me so tender, there won't be night or day.
What would be is just me, you, and those butterflies,
Fluttering around and flapping their wings,
And creating typhoons in a far-flung universe...


~ 27th of December, 2009. 5:10 AM to 5:24 AM.
Fourteen minutes of joblessness.
Forty eight hours of sleeplessness.

Me, and not Them

I see, I analyze, I decide, I conclude.
About me, about others, my life, their lives. I've never really liked myself, never much hated too. But life for me, at any point, has never been a complete bed of roses

I segregate this part of me into a portion I call a 'Psychological mumbo-jumbo.' Comes like, once a week or something. But it does come, and so it has come.

I fear analyzing myself, even though I love it. It gives me infinite possibilites to think, and my brain loves activity. An activity which I know will mostly end up in a result, which might be correct or otherwise.

I fear it because I know that somewhere down in those dark galleries lives a me I don't want to be. A me of lies, deceit, hatred and fear. A me who is obssesed with myself, my ideals, my decisions. I've wronged many and many have wronged me. I fear going through everything all over again. It hurts me, and I cry. Doesn't mean that I'll shed tears, I've learned how to cry without shedding tears. But I cry nevertheless.

I am stupidly emotional. I have always been like this. There is no reason for it. I hate this part of myself. I feel I'm not 'man' enough. Who on earth cries when he sees Gandhi walking semi-naked through the streets of Dandi? Who cries when he sees Ganguly hitting an awesomely elegant century and silencing all his critics? Hell! who cries when a new-born puppy snuggles up with his mother to cut out the cold? I do, because it doesn't stop at just that for me. I think about it further. I relate it to the past, something which did affect me once. And I cry, and this is a ritual. I'm not saying that I love it. I hate being different. From the inside, I hate being different. I'd rather be normal, with all those normal means of fun one has, without those infinite fixations. Without worrying much about the world. Ignorance is certainly a bliss.

I do not like being alone. But I have to. Because I can't be with someone who can't make me feel good. There's no point. That's the problem with me. I search for "points." Someone rightly said, "You're so mechanical, Anupam!" I can't agree more with her. If I can't get my "points" by doing something I don't do it. I am that pathetic perfectionist you watched in sci-fi movies. I even search for perfection in imperfection. It's terrible.

Have you ever experienced strong spasms within yourself? Have you ever found that one shoulder missing from your vicinity, the shoulder which always exists in your dreams, to support you? There is a beginning to happiness, but there is no end to sorrow. Those are the times when you feel that you're the biggest loser ever. And you justify yourself being that. Your mechanical brain tells you that you're a loser, and you can't defy your mechanical brain just because it has given you your "points" to prove that you are a loser. You hang your head low, grounded by failure. There is a faint light at the end of the tunnel and you don't have the speed to reach it before it vanishes.

I know that I think too much for an eighteen year old boy. There's going to be no positive out of it. There is never a positive out of sorrow, whatever they might say in those proverbs. I've seen it, I've experienced it. You just need to learn to be happy. Just mug up ways to be happy, and apply them. There's no concept here, no logic, no mechanical "points." You don't need to be an IITian to be happy. I'm still applying those ways. And they're not my darling "points." I'm happy, but I've lost this battle with myself. I can only try hard and save my identity, because I know it makes me me, and not them.

I'm still me.

The Three Mistakes of My Day

It all started when, after one full week of looking like a bonobo, I finally decided to shave off my beard and be a human once again. For a change. At times, not having a girlfriend makes you care shit about your appearance. Don't know if it was the effect of being horrified by an eight-feet long poisonous snake early in the morning languishing outside my room, which might have shot my mind somewhere. Who can forget Himanshu's petrified cries of "Abey! Saanp hai wing mein! Aath feet lamba! Jaldi aa! Jaldi aa!", waking me up from a meagre two and a half hours of mosquito-ridden sleep.

Anyway, I lazied off to the basin area with my shaving kit. I didn't put on a tee and just hoped Arpan won't hop out of his room with his "Hey, sexy!" remarks and that coquettish smile. Thankfully Arpan was busy staring at the pics of his self-proclaimed "queen of the campus." Frankly speaking I didn't find her even close to being the queen of anything. Except maybe the queen of not having, ahem, some elementary things.

Then came the first mistake of the day, which was not looking at your effing watch when you have one at a distance of 28.5 cm from your eyes. The 8:30 A.M. MA-105 lecture was, of course, supposed to be bunked that day, because apparently UK's nonchalant cries of "Green! Stoke! Divergence! Attendance! Sudesh (yeah right)!" were not something one would love to start one's day with. Except of course, some dickheads for whom not sitting on the first row was as good as not attending the class itself. I mean, c'mon, you know math and all, okay, you were in the IMO camp, excellent. But why the heck should you use so many "Yeah! YEAH! yEAH! and yEAh!"s in your speech for no apparent reason other than shooting some random bull? Bloody Ghatis (no offense meant, believe me or not). You know English, but why show off? So MUCH? Dumbfucks.

Yeah so, coming back to the basin area (I'm suddenly reminded of 8th standard Geography here. Strange), I finally cared to stare at my watch, and it was 10:25! Goddamn hell! Sunoj's CH-103 lecture at 10:30!! Couldn't miss it that day at any cost. I'd already missed the last lecture and had to attend this one, because Sunoj's uploaded slides contained absolutely nothing of importance. I mean, who on earth wanted to know how to draw arrows from one compound to the other for chrissake? "Arrows are one of the most important things in Organic Chemistry", declared professor R.B. Sunoj, one fine morning. Yeah, definitely. That's what is most important. Rat's ass.

And I so wanted to shave properly that day, I swear! But then, "Life's not always fair, my child," I echoed those pravachans of Deepak Phatak in my ears and finished shaving in a record three and a half minutes. And cut myself under the lower lip. Putting as much of my lower lip inside my mouth as possible I palpitated back to the room. I checked for Himanshu et al in the nearby rooms, and they were all gone. Bloody bastards, I have got one sadist bunch of batch-mates with me, I tell you. Couldn't at least one of them wait for poor me? Screw 'em all.

I put on the only set of washed clothes I still had remaining and any random deodorant I could lay my hands on. Yes, I do sweat a lot. As always, no rickshaw or bus when you need one. Having a bicycle in IITB is a waste anyway, the place is so hilly that you'll have to pull your cycle half the time, rather than the other way round. Finally I reached the lecture theatre, tired and panting. And it was at that very moment timed 10:53 A.M. that I committed the second mistake of the day, entering LT through the front door when the back door would have been a lot less attention seeking. I entered to be welcomed with a guffaw and chants of "aa gaye hero! aa gaye! aa gaye!" by those lifeless rascals who just en-cashed on any goddamn opportunity to create a ruckus during the lecture. And then came, as expected, Sunoj with his uber-pathetic attempts to sarcasm, "Welcome! Welcome to CH-103! Look at the clock, my boy, there. Only thirty minutes late. Now that's not a big deal. Sit, sit. Enjoy yourself. I don't give marks for attendance anyway." I was about to defend myself and correct him by reminding that I was twenty five, not thirty minutes late. But some good sense warned me from doing so. I fumbled on the first empty seat I could lay my ass on, flustered to perfection. There went the next thirty minutes of my attention as well. I could as well have bunked the lecture and slept pretty, minus the embarrassment. Fuck.

Coming back to the hostel, lunch was pathetic. Monday lunches. I skipped, coz I didn't have an appetite for the canteen stuff either. And then I entered room no. 290. Arpan's laptop fortunately wasn't busy with Karthik sitting crooked and staring at the screen for no apparent reason whatsoever, which is the usual case, and I started doing some random shit online. And then at 4:55 there came Ketava Mehta's call, which reminded me of the third mistake of the day, not sleeping even when you're dead sleepy and doing random bull on the internet instead. Monseigneur Ketava reminded me of the NSO swimming endurance test, which was to start in another FREAKING HALF AN HOUR, and which involved swimming continuously for one hour, without stopping anywhere. The only problem with me was that I had hardly slept the entire night, plus I'd wasted the afternoon doing, as I mentioned earlier, some random shit online, without sleeping for a second, and that I felt I would be DEAD if anyone made me swim for fifteen minutes. One freaking hour. I was so dead.

Seven thirty and I was back after the endurance test, swimming a decent 1.6 kms without a single stop. And I was alive. Just that I felt like a complete lunatic. The same feeling one would have after gulping down two quarters of neat Smirnoff. And I was hungry. And sleepy. Actually, dead hungry and dead sleepy. Being more of the sleeping kind, I just fell on my bed. Damn! I actually fell on Patil, who was already sleeping there, on MY bed under MY bedsheet. I just hoped he didn't mind much. You're in for some serious problems if your roomie suspects that you have a thing for him. Anyway, I remember shooting him some bull as an explanation towards my strange behaviour, and pleading him to sleep somewhere else. He agreed immediately, and I slept my heart out. Patil is a nice roomie. A really nice roomie.

Épée!

Who be he? Who be he?
He takes our breath away!
Who be he? Who be he?
I have nothing to say!
The mystery man, our saviour,
He set all of us free...
Oh no! He is...oh yeah, he is...
The onliest Épée!

Part II: The Encounter. The Beginning.

You cannot get unluckier than this. You just, cannot. Consider my case, that Saturday night. This was the chain of events:

1. I had my MA-105 end-sem on Monday, and I had more than half of the course left. Talk about hating pure Math.

2. I was there all night, mugging as much I can in GG (Girish Gaitonde lecture hall in the electrical department, for the ignorant lot), and half of what I was reading wasn't going into my head, courtesy of almost two days of sleeplessness.

3. It was 5:45 AM, I was all alone, and was watching the sun rise, yet again for the fifteenth day in a row. The croaking of the innumerable crows outside were making it further difficult for me to concentrate, and I finally decided to go out and have a stroll.

4. No, sleeping was not an option. AT ALL. Do not direct your thoughts in that direction.

5. Out of the many places I could have gone to, I chose the lakeside. Finally some nice, serene place with no disturbance and perfect solitude, I thought.

6. And for the seven million and forty seventh time in my life, I was wrong. Lakeside was buzzing with angry-looking professors, some of them jogging around and some others trying to ape Baba Ramdev.

7. I also noticed Pooja Padhi (our HS-101 Microeconomics Professor) calling out for someone and giving me a disgruntled look. Talk about having a bad start for the day. I wondered how she even remembered my face...I'd hardly attended even 20% of her classes in the whole semester.

8. Pissed, I started moving further down the path which actually leads to the lake, and to the denser tree cover, in the hope of getting some solitude. Everyone other than myself was a piss-off at that point of time. Sleeplessness makes you get irritated quickly and for no reason.

9. I knew there were rumours of leopards roaming around at that part of the lakeside, and it still was quite dark, for there isn't proper sunlight before 6:45 AM in Bombay during winters. I hardly cared. I actually wished I found a leopard or something, for a change. My life was hell boring anyway.

10. Thankfully there was no one there. Apparently Ramdev hadn't taught the professors some exercise to shoo away leopards. I caught a strange glistening insect lingering on a small leaf some way down the side of the lake. I couldn't resist myself and went ahead to have a look.

11. Something happened just then...It wasn't a leopard as I'd anticipated, but was something surely no less dangerous than one, in terms of fatality. A long, brown snake came out right in front of me, from nowhere! It freaked the senses out of me, and as I turned back to run, it was a SLIP! SPLOSH! THUD!, and I was down and out. I looked around to check out the snake, thankfully it wasn't there now. But it surely booked my brand new Benetton T-Shirt for another round to the washing room, plus led to incessant bleeding in my right elbow. Now you know why you can't get unluckier than this, your MA-105 exam being just a little more than 24 hours away. For the next few minutes, I didn't even have the strength to get up. Something inside me wanted me to spend the next few hours lying stomach-down, cursing that unlucky day of January 1991 when the biggest loser ever was born, and tasting some more of the lakeside mud.




"Won't you even care to get up and move away from that filthy place?!".

"No!" I replied, "I don't want to. There's no point, something pathetic will happen to me again. I'm happy being here. At least some poor leopard family will get a week's meal."

Wait!
Why am I telling all that to a dreamy female voice?

Looking up, I saw a female hand extended towards me.
Another result of sleeplessness? I thought.

"Will you get up or not, stupid boy? I don't have all day with me here."

I held her hand and got up immediately. There is something in a strict female voice which makes you lose all your ego.

So she IS real after all, eh!

"Oh my! What a mess you've made of yourself?! And why the heck should you be here at this desolate place at this point of time?"

A scolding was the last thing my already pissed-off brain could have tolerated, that too from a girl.

"I can ask the second question to you too, miss. What are you, being alone, doing here, before the sunlight could even creep in? You came here to save me from the nature's wrath? Eh?"

"Yeah, that's what I came here for. Now would you mind getting out of this place or you want to wait for more wild animals to scare you?"

I didn't reply, just fell into step beside her and followed her out of that wild place. We didn't exchange a word. It was light by then, and now that I could see her more closely, I was awestruck. That, undoubtedly, was the most beautiful face I'd ever seen inside the IIT campus, and probably ever in my life. She was an inch shorter than me, and probably some two or three years older. Of course, she couldn't have been an undergrad there, or she would already have been the talk of the testosterone-charged undergraduate population, something which can hardly escape your ears if you are aware enough. She replied after some two minutes of silence.

"Hey, you're hurt! Here, take this bottle of water and wash your face and whatever else you can. I also have a first-aid kit with me. I keep it handy, whenever I move out for jogging."

She gave me the bottle and a band-aid from her bag.

"Thanks so much! Is someone in your family a Doctor, by the way?" I asked, after getting as much dirt out of my face and T-shirt as I could.

"No. Why?"

"Who on earth keeps a first-aid kit while going out for a casual jog?"

"Hehehe...I prefer being safe."

Somehow, her giggle irritated me more. Every damn thing was irritating.

"So, you're doing B.Tech? First year?"

"Integrated MS. First year, yeah."

"Won't you ask what I do, hero?"

She really was irritating. I'd have preferred being left alone, but then she helped me, and I couldn't have been rude.

"Ok, what do you do here, mademoiselle?"

"I've come here on a semester-long project in the Bio-School, starting from the next semester. I stay at a friend's place whose father is a professor here, so no problem of accommodation you see!"

I never asked her all those details. Hell, I'd caught up with one pesky female. I don't know why her being so beautiful was not affecting me a wee bit.

"Cool. So here comes the gate. You'll go the opposite side no? The professor's buildings are there."

"Nope, I'll go that side, towards the departments. I'm not tired yet, so! You're going that side too na? Good, I'll have some company. I'm usually alone while jogging, you know. Won't mind some company. Hehehe."

Damn!
And that giggle again. Killer. I was doomed.

After another round of silence, she finally broke in.

"So, something is troubling you from the inside, no? Tell me."

I looked at her, surprised.

"Chocolate?" She offered. I shook my head and walked on.

She unwrapped one and stuffed it into my hand. Females could be a thousand times more irritating than boys.

"So go on, tell me everything. What's the problem?"

Silence.

"HeLLO?"

Just keep on walking, and ignore her. She'll shut up automatically. I assured myself. That's the trick, Just keep on walking and be silent.

"Hello mister, I'm talking to you!" She poked my left arm with her over-grown nail.

I'd lost it then. I really had. Enough! I need solitude, and this is not helping me at all.

"What on EARTH is wrong with you? Okay, thanks for helping me and all, but I need SOLITUDE, do you get me? I have my MA-105 exam tomorrow and I haven't slept for the last two days and I got dumped four months ago by a girl whom I'd known for three years. And I'm GETTING IRRITATED BY EVERYTHING. Will you just LEAVE ME ALONE, FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE? PLEASE?"

Ten odd IIT Bombay professors stopped whatever they were doing, and turned towards us, eyes fixed. Bull! I never intended to be so loud.
Plus, one thing which I hadn't noticed was how close I'd gone to her in my harangue. I could almost observe the contours of her lips.*gulp*

I'd expected her to be mad. I could guess what would've been going through her mind, at that time.
Just look at this guy! I helped him when he was in complete mess, I'm being nice to him and all, and he's shouting at me as if I'm some roadside slut. Why not just kick him at a wrong place for this act of his?

But unexpectedly, she didn't seem to be angry. The professors continued on their usual monotonous routine, and we proceeded out of the lake-side area. I tried looking at her, and she was looking at me. Quizzically, and not crossly as I'd expected. I kept on walking.

I looked at her again, and her expression was the same.

"What?" I asked defensively.

"Nothing. Your chocolate is melting. Eat it."

"Sorry, I shouldn't have shouted."

"It's ok, mister tormented_by_life. And you still haven't answered my question."

sigh

"Told you no, exams and all. Academic pressure, when all you've studied throughout the semester is Philosophy and Arms & Ammunition and Pakistani music history instead of MA-105."

"Ahh. As if this is something new for you, mister Chatterjee. You've been doing this all your life, studying just before your exams. Spare this, and tell me about what happened with the girl."

"How in the name of crazy apples do you know.......??"

"Tell me, quick. I don't have much time. I'll move in a different direction from the YP gate, and that's where we are headed to right now, I feel."

Holy crap! This can't be happening to me. Just. Can't.

"SPEAK UP!"

"The usual story, sort of. We had been good friends for some two years, and been together for a year. Then she went to a different place. She changed, I didn't. I became a loser for her, someone who only cribs and is not 'fun' to be with and stuff. She thought other guys there were a lot cooler than me, she thought she was naive to have even liked me in the first place. She wanted to enjoy life and all...so, you know, she said I should start minding my own business from then on. In brief, this is all I can say."

"Aww...that's sad. But it's four months, dude. Shouldn't this have been enough for you to forget her?"

"You say this because you've never been through what I have been. Saying is way too easy, miss."

"So you still love her or something?"

"NO! That would be the most stupid thing I could do. It's over, finished! Gone!"

"Then you hate her because she's been a bitch?"

"No. I don't hate her or anything. She was a nice girl, and she had her reasons, and they were valid enough for her. Why should she become a bitch for wanting to be happy? Naah...nothing like that."

"No love. No hate. Then what the hell is the problem with you?"

"I don't know. Maybe I just want her to...apologize or something. For whatever she's made me go through."

"So you'll continue to be pissed until she apologizes, and literally be a loser."

Silence again.

"Honestly, you know, I don't even want her to apologize." I was looking at her now, and twisted my lips into smile, before continuing. "C'mon! that's not a big thing. It's really stupid, expecting her to apologize when she doesn't care, for a doughnut's sake!"

"You've thought out everything rationally enough. You have enough sense to know what is right. You have convinced yourself that you're being stupid, and you want to move on. WHY THE HELL should you be tormented then, and have no life, my dear boy?"

I knew she was right. Hell, I knew I was right!

Really, why the heck should I be??

We walked silently for the next few minutes. YP was visible by now. I looked at her. She smiled, and I smiled back. Suddenly, I was feeling...free! No irritation. The early morning felt pleasing. The trees, sparrows, pigeons, everything was as nice as before! I was flushed with gratitude for her, really. Even though she hadn't done anything extraordinary, but she had done something which struck me exactly where it should have.

You haven't even asked her name, dumbass!

"Hey, what's your name? Funny that I didn't ask this before."

"I'm an angel."

"Hahahaha. What's your name?"

"Angels don't have names."

Bullshit!

"It's alright if you don't want to tell me. Doesn't matter."

"Okay, cool then. But I am an angel, believe me or not."

I could guess IIT had done something to her mental balance. Couldn't blame her, actually. It does the same to all of us. But her case was obviously a bit over-the-wire. Anyway, we had reached YP by that time.

"So, mister Chatterjee, I have to go now. My destination has a different direction from now on. You're a sweet guy, you know. And handsome too." She winked.

Oh my!

I blushed (c'mon, it was natural). She really was the most gorgeous female I had ever met, without doubt.

"Thanks so much, 'angel!' You've really done me a huge favour. Hope to meet you again, sometime."

"I do not. I only meet people when they are in trouble, you know!"

"Oh, cool then. Let's see if you can avoid me for the next few months. I know a semester-long project lasts for a full semester. Haha." I smirked.

She just smiled, in a 'poor you' way. And patted my back. And walked away towards the direction of the residential apartments. I stood there fixed for some time, confused, but then finally walked away, watching her slender figure disappear in the early morning fog.


~~~~~~~~~~


The next morning after the MA quiz, I was at the lakeside again, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. I couldn't find her anywhere. I didn't see her ever again, even after many attempts to find her in the subsequent mornings. One day I actually went to the Bio-School and inquired about the students doing a semester-long project in the next semester.

There were none.

Dayamaxxx! Godmaxxxx! Infy craxxxx! Shucks.

I won't say that I've learned nothing in the first out of the total ten semesters of my stay at the prestigious Indian Institute of Technology Bombay (a.k.a. IITB a.k.a. insti a.k.a. "wo...Hiranandani ke saamne, jiske 2 gates hain...ek gate ke paas bus stop hai...haan wahi waala, IIT"), unarguably the best engineering college in India, by far, and one of the best in the world. I've learned the most important part that one learns in the first year...Yeah, I've learned the Godmaxxx IITB lingo! Can you beat that? Can you?

My tryst with an IIT lingo wasn't the first one, I'd known about a significant part of the IITKgp lingo (and the hopelessness of it) beforehand, courtesy some previous contacts with the institute.

I'll mention the "slangs", and my version of what it actually means, in the order of maximum usage, from the most used one to the least. Can't list all of 'em, of course, as they say they're a total of 133 slangs! I'll just mention the ones most unique and most commonly used. Yeah so, here we are...

1. dayaa (pronounced as दया), sometimes with more than two 'a's at the end, which can range from three to a thousand, depending on the intensity of the 'dayaa shout'. You can't be an undergrad in IITB and not hear this word being shouted, exclaimed, used as a sign of disgust, and wherever else it might fit in. Personally, I find this the most illogical and most unsophisticated word of the IITB lingo, and fortunately I haven't used this word even once, inspite of it being shouted around right, left and centre.
What does it mean, then? Dayaa actually means pity, but it's hardly ever used in the literal sense. It's actually a sign of disgust.
If you here Sambre shout "Dayaa yaar Kanitkar!", it means poor Kanitkar has done something which Sambre thinks is disgusted by.
If you hear students shouting "Dayaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" in a HS-101 class, it means without doubt that Prof. LM Bhole has crossed the limits of boring his students and they want him to stop IMMEDIATELY, AT THAT VERY MOMENT.
If you hear people shouting "Dayaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" (notice the greater number of 'a's) during some performance, it means that the performance is as pathetic as it can get, and the students want it to stop or change IMMEDIATELY, AT THAT VERY MOMENT.
I guess that was enough about 'dayaa', and you got a fairly good idea of the usage of this part of the lingo. Moving on...

2. infyy (pronounced as in-fee), was originally, meant to be an acronym for infinite, for the folks found 'infinite' too long a word to pronounce. Or I should say too 'infyy' a word to pronounce. Bleh. Yeah so, 'infyy' fights with 'dayaa' at being the most used word of the lingo, many times both being used in collusion "infyy dayaamaxxx yaar!", and stuff. (The maxxx post-fix will be discussed at a later stage).
So what does infyy mean? Infyy actually has absolutely nothing to do with infinite. I repeat, absolutely nothing. Any goddamn thing, greater than one in number or quantity, is infyy. Yeah, right. You see someone eating two eggs, and you say 'infyy ande khaata hai yaar', You see someone coming back after a rigorous game of table tennis, and you exclaim 'infyy TT khelke aaya hai, is baar inter-IIT pakka!' Someone doing regular mugging, and you comprehend it as 'infyy mugging.' You see, we at IITB believe in being flexible in our lingo, so that we can use anything, anywhere. We hate hindrances, yeah. Enough of 'infyy' now, or I should say "infyy infyy ho gaya," lol! So moving on again...

3. fart (pronounced as fart itself, whatever, just for the sake of symmetry), is the part of the IITB lingo which I actually don't dislike. Mainly because it can be used as a substitute for the eff word, which is quite an achievement I tell you. 'What the fuck!' can now be substituted as 'Kya fart hai!', and I feel the second one has more universal acceptance, at least from the decency point of view. And needless to say, fart has nothing to do with the literal meaning, ahem, though both the roots are somewhat related. I'd rather not go into the details.
So fart actually means big-time bullshit, or anything which might irritate you. 'fart mat machaa yaar' means the speaker wants you to stop your bullshit IMMEDIATELY, AT THAT VERY MOMENT. 'kya fart hai' is, as I already mentioned, 'what bullshit is this?'. 'abey aaj ka paper fart gaya yaar!', means the paper was big-time bullshit for the person concerned. So that's it about 'fart' I guess.

4. junta! (pronounced as jun-taa), means, well, people more than one in number. That's it. When you shout 'JUNTAA come to the footer ground', you mean all of 'em, whatever work they might be engaged in, to leave all of their work and come to the footer ground, mainly to watch people breaking their legs and hands and getting groin injuries. Junta comes in synchrony with neta, which means any general volunteer, for anything ranging from mess secys to mood-I CGs.

5. pain, which has, again, little to do with the literal meaning, means something which actually doesn't seem to have any apparent roots. Mostly used as 'pain maarna'...'infy pain maar raha hai', means something or someone is making you feel uncomfortable, or 'in pain.' That's like the only usage I think, other than the alternate 'kaafi pain ho gaya', which is somewhat closer to the literal meaning.

6. arbit, meant to be an acronym for 'arbitrary' (pronunciation problems again), is actually used in a really flexible sense. As an acronym for arbit, 'abey last bench pe arbit comedy chal rahi thi', and as something/someone that is weird/strange/not the way it should be, 'wo banda din bhar koi arbit kaam karte reht hai, thoda hila hua hai uska', 'arbit' is used in both ways.

7. give-up, used in the sense 'give up hai tera' or 'give up maar de', meaning good for nothing and actually giving up in the real sense respectively ie. 'chhod na yaar'. Give up can mean what it's supposed to, or at times it can have the same meaning as 'fart' in the sense of something that’s bad/avoidable., 'that’s a total give up movie'. It’s also used as an expression of defeat, when one realizes that one is facing impossible odds. In short, you can use it anywhere. Even bihari uses it, and used it correctly. You can understand, now.

8. scope, or having a scope, is actually used in the sarcastic sense meaning 'having no scope'. 'scope hai yaar tera to...' means you've done something really really dumb and you "have" a lot of scope for that work ahead. One of the other slangs which I like, coz there apparently is some good logic behind it. Plus it leaves the other guy who has no knowledge of the lingo guessing. :D

9. and finally, the postfix maxxxxxxxxxxxxxx (more the number of 'x's, greater is the effect), which can actually be used after any word and means loads of anything. scopemaxxxx, dayamaxxxx, godmaxxx (which Ketav used for me when my program for the CS project finally compiled properly...but then that's another story), infyscopemaxxx, infygodmaxx........ok I'm getting carried away now. So it's better to...shut upmaxxx, lol!

~Peace!

Dotty Papers. :)

It's our own little world, you know, just me and you in here.
No one else even cares, you know, no one even thinks about us, I say.
And yet we strive, strive hard to make this little world of ours, as lovely as possible.
Because when it's me and you, baby, it's got to be the best.
Best trees, best streams, best birds, and of course...the best food. ;)

They say it's gibberish, I say...do we care?
They say it's not practical, I say...does it need to be one?
They say it's only a dream, I say...are dreams not fascinating?

It's good to be into something which only we can understand,
for then there is no one to disturb us with their nonsense. :D

I say, you're my sunshine.
I'm wrong, you're my sun. :)

Give me!

Someone give me time, patience, and a laptop. So that I can update my blog, yeah. Infact I just did that. Maybe. :|

I suck. Maybe.

Maybe?

Karthik C.S.: ANUPAM!

Me: WHAT?

Karthik C.S.: I have some views about you.

Me: Like, what?

Karthik C.S.: I think you're the "maybe" guy. I've been noticing your replies.

Me: Is that somethine your IMO brain tells you? Haan? Ahan?

Karthik C.S.: Maybe, you're right.

Me: Yeah? Now who's the "maybe" guy dude?

Karthik C.S.: You!

Me: Yeah, maybe. Sigh.


Life is a maybe. Shit, when will I get a life? And do something productive?
GIVE ME, an answer. Pleej? :)

IIT. Big thing? Yes. No.

So I am finally getting in the prestigious, excellent, heavenly, "add another awesome adjective here" IIT-Bombay. And I got science too, those teenage dreams of studying science seem to be coming true too. Maybe there's a shift of interests from Physics to Chemistry, but then I've seen many mighty warriors pwned by those quantum mechanical mumbo-jumbo which, dreadfully so, makes them realize that pure Physics is not just Mechanics and basic Thermodynamics. In that sense, Chemistry seems a lot safer for me; it is evident by the fact that I opted for chemistry when I could have got pure Physics anywhere.

Yeah so, am I feeling heavenly? Not really. Not at all, actually. It's been three long years since I dreamed of getting through JEE. Not aware of the reality then, IIT seemed something out-of-the-world, where over-intelligent alienated humans prevailed and ruled over the less-fortunate engineering junta in other institutions. Now, it really feels like just-another-college. Okay, maybe a lot better than just-another-college, but surely nothing close to being heavenly.

Face it people, IIT is not a big thing today. I mean, anyone taking as obscure a branch as architecture in as obscure a place as Kharagpur has the "privilege" of being called an IITian. So what's the big deal? There are a few odd thousands of students in colleges like BITS and IIIT-Hyderabad better than those 5-6-7000 rankers in IITs.

And it's not only about the low rankers; thankfully because of the awesome Kota system, dickheads who know nothing about the environment around them, who've spent more than two years of their life in those dingy classrooms cramming up stuff, get a good rank and a good branch. What's their aim in life? Ek baar IIT mein ghus jaao yaar, fir to masti hi karni hai. Balls. You bastard, IIT does not want people who think JEE is an end. JEE is just a beginning. But hardly does anyone realize it. And those school-education-impaired teachers who teach them in coaching classes don't help anyone either. I mean, how can you just give away two years of your school life! And that too two crucial years of 11th and 12th, when your brain actually learns the most about the world around!

A decade ago, yes, IIT was actually a heavenly place to be. People did cram and get in in those times too, but the percentage was not as much as it has become now. And ofcourse there were a lot lesser seats, precisely half of what is now. And the subjective pattern did test a lot more of inherent intelligence than the current objctive pattern. Today, more than half of the students in IITs are from those Kota classrooms! And the rest aren't great either. Cool people from Bombay-Delhi and other big cities rule too. Late night booze parties and other high-society-city-life stuff are happily introduced by them, and getting drunk is no longer a wrong this to do. Dad's having loads of cash, son/daughter in an IIT. Nothing to worry about in the world. Others can go get a life.

There is the third category too, consisting of genuinely intelligent students. Most of the Bhilai students are like that, I feel. Monseigneur Shashank S. Dwivedi being the prime example. That's why I used to think, when in 11th, that most people in IITs are like our Bhilai heroes. Alas, I now realize that they actually are in a very insignificant minority. But still, the condition in IITB is a lot better than places like Kgp and Roorkee, which needless to say are pathetic places to be, from the "intellectual" quality of students and prevalent college culture point of view, however good their infrastructure and faculty might be.

But enough said and done, IITB is still the best tech college in the country. Period. So bas aage aage dekho, hota hai kya. Just hoping for the best. :)

Part I: The Incident. The End.

"I'm not happy with you, Kshitij. Is that not enough? I know it hurts, but at times you have to be selfish. And please be quick, I don't have much balance and I can't recharge now."

I had not seen this coming so soon, no. Alright, I was aware that things were not going right. But I had always thought that everything would be great again, all problems will be sorted out in a single day, and life will be great as ever between me and Ritz.

I didn't know how to react to that. Tears started flowing incessantly. My throat was choked. I wanted to say a thousand things but nothing came out.

"Please, Ritu, don't do this. It's just a small problem. All will be great as ever again. Please, I'll change. Give me one more chance, please! I beg of you."

The usual story, begging, crying, pleading for one more chance, promising to change.

"It's over, Kshitij. It's not working now. I can't give you so much of my time everyday, you're too demanding. Frankly, I'm sick of all these obligations of talking and calling. I don't think we're destined to be together, Kshitij. It's not due to only some reasons. Please try to understand. I'm not happy with you, is that not enough for a reason?"

Those are the times when you hardly have any power of reasoning left in you. Those typical "Why? why? why?" and "Why me?"s are what engulf your mind.

"Don't do this to me, Ritz, please. I love you so much, still. I'll be shattered to death. Things can always work out. You're just angry, Ritu. Just cool down a bit, okay? Please. You're not in your senses. You're not like my Ritu. Just think over all of it again, Ritz, don't take this harsh a decision just because you're angry or pissed. Okay baby?"

"I'm sorry, Kshitij. I AM in my complete senses. And I have thought over it a thousand times. I'm not going to change my decision now at any cost. Accept the reality, will you? I don't love you any more. And honestly, I think I never did love you. I thought that I loved you, but I didn't. And stop all this 'love, feelings' crap, will you? Stop being so immature. You'll get loads of better girls than me, okay? Please, Kshitij, forget me and move on. Swear at me if that would help. I can say nothing more. My friends are waiting for me. I don't have time now."

I was crying like a wailing baby now. I had lost all senses of control, crossed all limits of sorrow. I think only the death of a loved one can come closer to the amount of gloom one gets in while being dumped like this.

I tried to say something, but all that came out was a faint "Pleeasse, Ritu, don't do this, please. For my sake. Don't be so selfish. I still love you Ritu, more than ever. Please, try to understand. Pleeaasee!"

I don't know how much I pleaded to her, in a last glimmer of a seemingly lost hope. But you can't always delay the inevitable each time. Life is sadly, not a bed of roses.

"YOU try to understand Kshitij. I don't want to talk about all that any more. It's over, and I have a life to live. Don't irritate me now by discussing it further, please. Just focus on your own life and let me foocus on mine. We can still be friends if you want. And for heaven's sake LET ME GO now, I'm getting late and I have some work with Abhay and he's getting pissed at me for being on the phone for so long."

The tide of hopelessness had swept in. Maybe some anger too, at the mention of that guy. How can some freaking Abhay get pissed when MY Ritu talks with ME?. I don't think she'd give a damn to any Abhay or Vijay or whoever while talking to me. Oh, how can she change so much? Is this real? Is this a dream? Will things be great again when I wake up tomorrow? I literally pinched myself. But that was stupid, even in any amount of senselessness.

I had stopped crying by then, and held myself up a bit. Some sense came back, and I turned more serious.
"Alright Ritu, I'm sorry to have taken up your time. Please forgive me for this, and for all the times I've made you feel bad. I really am very sorry."

"I have no time for your sarcasm, Kshitij. I'm hanging up now."

Blurting a sarcastic comment was obviously one of the worst thing to do at that time, but some things never change.

"Alright, just tell me one last thing. Is there some other guy involved? Please, Ritu, answer honestly if you've ever felt any wee bit of a thing for me."

"Why would YOU bother now, Kshitij? I don't understand. And anyway, other guy or anyone else has nothing to do with why I decided to break up. I gave you my reasons earlier, and those are the real reasons. Think whatever you want to now, I'm tired of explaining. I don't want to talk about all this, and don't call me back now. Bye! Take care."

And she hung up.

For some minutes I was completely emotionless. On the roof of the hostel, I was alone, beneath the starry night, staring at the stars. Enjoying their beauty, there were so many of them! What were we, insignificant human beings on an insignificant planet, smaller than the smallest quark with respect to the grand, majestic and indefinite universe. I laughed, laughed heartily, because of no reason. All of that was so stupid. All these emotions, crying, love, bla bla bla. I thought nothing more about the convo at that time. There was a cool breeze blowing, which was soothing my nerves. I went back to my room. Fatso was fast asleep. I rolled up my mattress and the bed-sheet, and took it somehow up the roof. Spreading it up, I slept to a hearty night's sleep. All was pleasant, calm and serene. Maybe all of that was really a dream, after all. There was nothing to worry about. Not a worry in the world.

Trying to be away from negative thoughts

This would be a common problem for people like me, people who think a lot, about the past, present, and the future. People who can get paranoid by just raking up a thought without actually anything happening, or at times turn surprisingly cheerful because something seems to work for them. But only in their head. It's the dream-future-world which changes it's form, not the real world.

It's a stupid thing, or put in layman terms, an immature thing. I call it a layman term in this scenario, because calling someone or something immature does not take into account the thousands of small links which actually makes him/her/it what he/she/it is. But stupid or immature, the fact is that it is undesirable. It is negative. It is not the way to be.

What we don't understand when a negative depressing thought enters our mind is the consequence. Or precisely, we don't try to understand. It does no good, a negative thought. It depresses you, it makes you unhappy. And there is no practical consequence of a negative thought, that is needless to say.

There are some simple methods to be away from negative thoughts. I don't know much about mind-control and stuff like that; I am not a spiritual guru. But what I do know is that mind-control is a great thing. It's the pinnacle of achievement for a human being, because he can then be calm and happy and cheerful under any circumstance. What more does one want, be it the poor villager or the exorbitantly rich industrialist?

Yeah so, coming back to the methods, which I think are useful under a lot of circumstances when one can potentially get depressed by a thought. Some simple things which can be practised easily.

1. Whenever you feel you are thinking about something which is depressing you, immediately try to visualize what consequence it will have on you. Not just visualize, try to feel it, re-create the situation for an instant, in your brain, when you are pissed and depressed and feel like nothing to do. And then say to yourself "why the heck was I thinking about that? I have other works to do." If you do it properly, it works. It worked for me, and I am no spiritual guru, as I said earlier.

2. Don't plan much about the future, or regret much about the past. It is useless, hopeless. Thinking about depressing things from the past is practically the most useless thing to do; it is of no good consequence whatsoever. And planning much about the future is actually an invitation to unhappiness; most plans actually don't end up the way we want them to, and it's a fact. It's better not to plan much, and if we do plan, we should be ready for a plan B and plan C. And still be ready for hte situation in which the plan C too may fail.

3. Try not to sit idle. It's an important thing. A busy mind will not be a host for the parasitic negative thoughts. It's the idle mind which is most vulnerable, for we always have the urge to "try out" a thought.

4. And then, try as much as you can, to be cheerful even in hopeless situations. People don't understand that being grim actually serves no practical purpose. And in people I include me too. It's not easy at all, I know, but if some effort is put in it will bear many fruits.


There might be many other infinite ways to be away from negative thoughts; I think a small browse through any "mind control" web page will make you learn a lot more than those seemingly obvious points I mentioned. But these were just some things which I tried in various situations, and actually felt that they work. :)

And yeah, these things might seem worthless and "get a life, dude!" kind of things to the hedonists, people who only gain happiness in what they say is "having fun." They think they're happy, they think all these "thoughts and stuff" are bullshit. But you know, to put it honestly, this happiness is actually fake happiness. It arises actually out the want to be happy, and not the need. There is a difference, and I think, in this case, the need is stronger than the want. Hedonists are actually ignorant, to put it blatantly.
Ignorance is a bliss, agreed, but one can't be ignorant for all of his/her life. Every child grows up. And when those bubbles of ignorance eventually vanish, they will actually understand how "happy" they are.

Yeah so, not to worry much about the hedonists, I'd certainly like to know if these things do work on anyone else, other than me. No, I actually don't expect anyone to read this post. People have better works to do, lol.

But I would like to know, nevertheless. I can only wait. :)

Chocolate Shake

The day was one of September, 2008. The weather was surprisingly cloudy, and as I came out of DPS after giving the first B.Mat test, I had a whole evening to have some time off studies. No one studies after six hours of exertion, isn't it? I never studied the whole Sunday after any mock-test.

Yeah so, I checked out my purse. A hundred rupee note and not a single penny more. Sufficient enough, I thought, for either a good eat and a soft-drink, or a cheap eat and some nice dessert. Not both for a hundred bucks, as I couldn't spend the whole amount. Had to keep some change with myself too. As I was not too hungry, I decided for the latter. The best option would have been some pani-puris + a shake at Krazy Kool.

As the weather was nice and cool, I decided ride around a bit first. The area around Maroda was quite green, as always, and I set out for that side. Driving nearby Rajiv Sir's place was a good idea, as some old memories would be refreshed. Many months had passed before I last went that side, so I was somewhat excited.

I reached the Market square first. The Samosa guy saw me and smiled. I smiled back. Funny that he still remembered me, I thought. It was the favourite place for me and Dhruv to have a quick tummy-filler before 'the' class. But that day I was not in a mood for Samosas. I wasn't too hungry. Pani-puri (or gupchup was we call it here) was what I had to go for. I went a bit further, in the hope of finding the familiar gupchup waala. Damn, he wasn't there. But there was another man, much older than the previous one. And yeah, he was selling gupchups too.

Surprising, I thought. Maybe they were related. He didn't even have a 'thela', as the earlier bloke had. It was just a small make-shift kind of double conical thing, something on which they usually sold chanas and stuff. I went near him and asked:

"Wo pehle waale bhaiya kahaan hain?"

"Kaun pehla waala saab? Ek mahine se main hi baith raha hoon idhar. Gupchup khilaoon kya?"

Okay, might be that the previous one found a better business somewhere else. Who cared? I was tired enough to search for another place, and moreover my ultimate aim was the chocolate shake at Krazy Kool. It was some time (read months) before I had one. Mom didn't give me much money those days so I couldn't have afforded to spend sixty bucks on a shake more often.

I nodded in the affirmative to this man. He gave me a plate. I saw it, it wasn't clean. Maybe his business was not flourishing as of yet. The fully filled bag of panipuris confirmed my thought.

"Bhaiya, isko saaf karke do na! Ganda hai."

He smiled a bit with his broken teeth, tried to show some concern, and cleaned it with a cloth he had.

"Ho gaya saab!"

He was making me feel real awkward now by adressing me by 'saab'. If not more, he was at least four times my age. But I didn't tell him anything. I didn't want to waste much time there by engaging in useless conversations. He took some time in making the 'masala'. It wasn't ready beforehand and he was pissing me off now by the amount of time he was taking. It was going to rain in some time, as the dark clouds and the wind were suggesting, and I wanted to be off that place as soon as possible.

"Pyaaz daalna hai kya masala mein?"

"Rehne do bhaiya, aur thoda jaldi karo. Baarish hone wali hai."

Onions were costly anyway, and I didn't want to him to get a lesser margin on his already stagnant business. Needless to say, my time was saved too. He gave me the first pani-puri.

"Paani theek hai bhaiya?"

Okay, bhaiya was not so awkward. Good that he stopped his 'saab'.

"Haan, sahi hai. Kitne ke diye gupchup?"

I realized that I should have asked this beforehand. Not that it mattered much, but just for the sake of formality.

"Do ka teen."

Hey, that was cheap. At all other places it was either "Paanch ka Paanch" or "Paanch ka chaar". His gupchups were fine enough, at par with others. So his lesser rate was another proof of his business not taking off.

It was after gulping down the third gupchup that I actually paid some attention to the small kid sitting on the nearby "puliya", as they say. I can't recall the English word for it. It's just a small brick-cemented backless bench, stuff on which you can sit. The kid was studying something from a book, with full concentration. And the old man feeding me was checking him out intermittently. Maybe the kid was his grandson. He was in the familiar school-uniform of government or BSP schools, sky-blue shirt and navy-blue shorts. Might have been some seven-eight years old. What was impressing about him was the concentration with which he was trying to remember the stuff written in the book. It was funny, actually, the way he was reading and then closing his eyes tight, trying to mug up the stuff. A short smile came up on my lips, mouth filled with the gupchup-water. Trying to smile more resulted to be a bad idea, as I splattered the water down on the ground. It was more comic than the kid trying to mug up.

"Kya hua bhaiya, paani teekha hai kya?"

"Nahin paani badhiya hai, gale mein chale gaya galti se. Kitna hua abhi tak?"

"Do aur to das ka ho jaayega. Aur khilaana hai kya?"

"Nahin das ka kar do bas."

I took out the hundred rupee note and handed him.

"Chillar nahin hai kya bhaiya?"

"Nai hai. Bas sau ka note."

He sighed. Checked out his pocket. Just 3-4 ten rupee notes and some coins.

"Ruko bhaiya main chillar leke aata hoon, hai na. Paas hi hai dukaan. Jaldi aata hoon."

The market square was some distance away. I thought I'd go and get it instead. But then I didn't want him to feel insecure, by not paying him and going off too far.

"Theek hai, jaldi karna". He would take at least ten minutes, I knew. But I had no other option. Mr. chocolate shake will have to wait for some more time now.

He went off. I went closer to the kid, who seemed to have eventually lost his archer-concentration in his book and was gazing dreamily at the birds chirping on the tree. I checked out the book he was studying from.

English! Now that came as a real surprise. I'd not expected him to read English, no. And it wasn't a Hindi-medium English book. It was a proper second standard English book, though state board.

"Angreji padh lete ho?"

His chain of thoughts was broken. Maybe he was flying along with the birds by that time. He might surely have cursed me for getting him back onto the earth.

"Haan", he replied, a bit rudely, still looking at the birds.

"English medium mein padhte ho. Yahin Maroda waale school mein? School ki fees kaun deta hai?"

I came directly to the question which was bugging me. Even Government English medium schools had a significantly high fee. I knew there was only the one in that area, in Maroda, where the younger of the two children of my domestic help studied. I had heard her complain about the high fees there compared to the Hindi medium ones.

"Dada", he replied, pointing at the man who was busy getting change of hundred rupees at a distant shop.

I was stunned. The thought of his grandfather paying off the kid’s school fees with the amount of money he made through his panipuris was unbelievable. The maximum amount of profit he could have made in a day would not be more than Rs.30-40. I’d thought they’d struggle even for their two square meals a day. It was really surprising. And then I thought of his “dada”. He might be somewhere around 65-70 years old. For how long would he be able to feed both of them like this? For how long, would he be able to pay off his exorbitant fees? I just hoped he lived for at least ten more years without any ailment.

"Maa-baap?"

He looked at me now, as I asked him that question.

"Nahin hain. Maar diya unko raat mein bandook waale ne. Maine dekha. Mere saamne maara. Bhai ko bhi maar diya. Ek saal ho gaya hai."

All of that came so suddenly. It was shocking. I swear I'd never in any crazy thought imagined that such would be his reply. I saw a teardrop trickle from his eye, down his small and dirty cheeks, onto the ground. Another one fell on almost the same spot, but not from his eye this time. I knew my stupidly emotional self quite well.

"Mereko paisa kamaana hai. Bahut paisa. Doctor banoonga. Dada bolta hai mereko pakka doctor banaaega."

I kept silent. Even if I’d tried, it would have been difficult for a word to come out. I just kept staring at his face, blankly.

"Sote kahaan ho? Ghar ka kya hua?", I asked, after I was finally normal.

"Ghar duur gaaon mein hai, Dantewara. Wahaan se bhaag gaye hum log. Abhi yahin sote hain." He pointed at a pile of rags under a small shed, which was supposedly their bed. I could see some books and one or two copies nearby, neatly piled up.

And I now knew who might have killed his family. Dantewara is one of the most Naxal-infested areas in Chhattisgarh.

I gingerly patted his back after a minute or two of silence, and smiled at him reassuringly. He smiled back.

"Banega chotu, ekdum doctor hi banega tu. Bas padhai kabhi mat chhodna. Padhte rahega aise hi to jaldi doctor ban jaayega. Koi kaam karne bole to bhi padhai nahin chhodna. Theek?"

"Theek", he replied. His smile widened, baring his two big teeth in front, with a small gap. I checked mine. Strange coincidence.

I sat there for some time, looking at the child, thinking about him, myself, his future, my future. His life, my life. A water drop fell on my hand. It wasn't a tear this time, sheh. I looked up and it was just starting to drizzle. The boy ran under the shed. I could hear some heavy running footsteps now. His "dada" was coming back, counting the money in his hands. He was almost 50 metres away.

Just at that moment, something crossed my mind.

I sprang up, on my Dio, started the ignition and sped off. I could hear the old man shouting behind me. I didn't slow down until I was some 500 metres away. Then I looked back. I could see both of them, under the shed, looking at me like dreamy statues. I smiled and looked up. Raindrops fell on my face; the rain had become quite heavy now. I thought about the chocolate shake. I didn’t know when, and whether, would I be able to have one again, without thinking about the kid. My pocket was empty, but my mind was filled with endless thoughts. I didn't think about the shake again, at that moment. Honestly, I was ashamed.

I only hoped that the kid did not belong to 'general' category. And that those ninety odd bucks would help him, whatever little bit, in becoming a great doctor one day. I could only hope, actually, because in the back of the “practical” and non-emotional part of my brain, I half-knew that he was pursuing a seemingly lost cause.