Saat samundar paar.

This would've been a huge post had I written in detail. But I had a feeling I would've gotten bored in the middle and left the story unfinished. So here goes. Not written well at all. Most of this is in chronological order, I think.

25th. T3 Indira Gandhi airport. Lufthansa. Excess baggage. 747. Cramped seats. No personal TV. Fat guy on right side. Sleep. No sleep. Cute steward. 9 hours. Frankfurt. Security check. McDonalds. No sleep. Expensive net. One girl missing. Boarding time. Frantic running across the airport. Security check. Hot water bottle. Quarantine. Rat on airport. No, mouse. Random guard. Visa passport check. Train to gate. Herr Ghotra. Squeaky hellos. Nice aircraft. Personal TVs! How to train your dragon. Asian meal. Saunf. No sleep. Philadelphia. Immigration check. Seniors. Shuttle. Head ache. Temporary accommodation. Crestfallen faces. Night stroll around area. Own house. Wall to wall carpeting. Pizza. Sleep.

Oh and then rest of the week could be described as: fire alarms, AT&T, people getting lost, shifting luggage, cooking, fire alarms without batteries, no keys to first two gates, no lease, bidets, no bidets, 1 $ flipflops, fire alarms ringing without batteries, taking lite with fire alarms, no drains on bathroom floors, 'lota', green board/table, 'keedas' and peppermints, cute I 20 guy.

I iz brev. (I haz brevity, so.)

Closure

(Warning: Senti attack. Read at own risk. Not written too well for the aforementioned reason.)

So I had slept all evening, and was watching random episodes of Friends to while away time. I have, a lot of times, tried to write something here. Something, so that the blog doesn't go dormant. And I couldn't find anything.

And then in the middle of Ross and Chandler's futile attempts to quit the gym, Saniya pings me and reminds me that it was exact four years since she first landed at BITS. Which reminds me that 29th July 2010 would be exact four years from when I first began the BITSian journey (cliche, yes. But cliches are cliches for a reason. No, not playing the pronoun game here, JD/Bing/Pubby.)

Four awesome years. The good, the bad and the downright ugly (transition from BPGC to BPKKBGC being one.) In some regards we didn't change at all, and yet we changed so much. From 'writing lyk dis' to cringing every time someone else writes in the now incomprehensible 'kewl' version of English, from running around shouting on the roads in huge gangs in first semester to calling people three batches junior morons for doing the same, from Orkut to Facebook, from not knowing DC++ existed to being totally addicted to it, we've all transformed. And yet one feels like the time just flew by, and we're still where we were.

When 2006 batch joined, the hostel curfew was 11:00 PM. There was no football field, and Zephyr saw some of the fiercest fights in the campus. In our first few weeks, the A mess was better known as the 'boys mess'. Thinking about the thrill Sanskriti and I got in exploring random nooks and corners of the campus now brings a wave of nostalgia. Dandiya night was conducted in the now awesome badminton court complex(?), and the next day we lost three seniors.

Second year saw us making shiny stuff in MT1 chemistry labs,  copying shamelessly when the instruments won't work in physics, and adding juice and detergent to the same concoction in biology to extract DNA. Second year was the Quark 2008 year. Still remember sitting outside on the last day as the Music night came to an end, wondering what I was going to do for the rest of the semester.

With third year came the responsibilities, whether it be the CDCs, or getting a fest up and running smoothly. The sucky grading system added to the woes. The farewell one whole (in some cases two) year(s) before we left the campus gave everyone something to obsess about. No one dressed up for the now once-in-a-blue-moon DJ nights anymore. And then came the second sem compres, which this time around not just meant the end of the semester, but also the end of time together on campus for the batch as a whole. Whether you switched your semester at the last moment, or you always knew you were going in first sem, it didn't make much of a difference. Cartons packed and couriered, hugs and promises exchanged. The end of the journey was now in sight.

PS2 was a different ballgame altogether. From wishing everyone you knew got PS at Bangalore, to cribbing about the work or lack thereof, to making elaborate plans to go to campus during Waves. To talking about how your strict PS instructor makes you call every morning at 9 30, to putting in night outs to finish reports and applications. To wishing to get back to campus and yet feel a little sad that your stay at Bangalore (or wherever your PS station was) coming to an end.

Last semester on the campus kind of serves as a rude shock. For you're happy that you're back, but it doesn't feel like the same place. You hardly know anyone, at times the only person you know at Monginis happens to be Uncle Sam. You feel like the campus has already forgotten you, and then soon enough you come to terms with it, and start finding new ways to kill the huge amount of free time that you have. Some actually do stuff on their 'to-do-before-college-ends' list, others don't. Single degree students get annoyed with their suddenly all too geeky dual degree friends and vice versa. First years look like a bunch of buffoons, doing the exact same things as one did three years back. Exams and project submissions start losing out to hanging out a little more at Nescafe. Bogmalo trips become a lot more frequent.

And then the time flies by and soon you're staring at the day you never thought would come. And then you take the final walk across the campus, sit outside till you can, take it all in for you know that you won't see the campus at 12 20 am again. Not the same way, at least.

And then you go back, and you finish off with packing. And you hope for a sense of closure.

And then you sit and wonder where the time went, two and a half months after you said your final goodbye to college.

And then it rains

The air sits heavy on the head, as if it's all the troubles you face and then more. The heat and humidity do their little dance, in perfect tandem, and you're caught in the middle and you're neither here nor there. And the burden won't go away just as those drops of perspiration won't. You seek shelter but there is none. You spend sleepless nights wondering if this would end. Wishing it would end. Not a leaf moves, and you feel like your eternal damnation lies in these doldrums. Time seems like a crafty thief, sneaks in and out unnoticed and takes away what you've treasured. And it does so every night, over and over again, till the morning arrives.



And then it rains.

All will be good.

(PS. Yes, I love rains. Check this out sometime)

Summer symphony

The children wait in the heat, eyes looking up towards heavens for some relief. The air is almost solid, heavy, making it difficult to breathe. The anticipation is almost as unbearable as those beads of sweat that stubbornly trace their way across the skin. No relief in sight.

Brown eyes gaze up at the blindingly white, unrelenting sky. Dense atmosphere sits heavy on the heart, while the ground below cracks as you walk on it. Silently, they beseech the gods, and wait.

Then they see the signs. The sun hides, as the earth senses help is on the way. The air, hanging so still earlier, gains fluidity, and whispers conspiratorially, taunting without promising. The dust wakes up and joins in, and as if marking its presence, pigments the sky yellow. The stage is set, and all await the arrival of the whimsical star of the show.

And then, without warning, they descend. They can't be contained, just as the schoolkids can't be. They dash out to welcome the outpour. The sky thunders, and lets itself loose. The earth sighs in relief, redolent of innocent happiness. The parched cracks dissolve, as does the heaviness in the air. The thunder punctuates the children's laughter, as their mothers keep vigil from the safe, dry quarters. The rhythm, soft at first, embarks on the crescendo. The firmament moves through shades of blue, growing deeper, till it reaches midnight blue at the climax. Midnight blue, with occasional silver linings. The symphony's notes splash over the strings of the soul as the heavens keep track of the cadence. And as the children jump into puddles of joy the tempo starts to decrease. The orchestra moves towards the conclusion of the performance, the children reluctantly head back to warmth.

And then the clouds part company, with a promise to come back next summer.

Check this out

Saw this blog, made by a friend. If you're not in Goa, spread awareness. Do your bit.

Cheers,

Pranshu

Diwali eve 2009

Deal with five-digit number of files from 9 30 to 5 30. Get a sore throat in the night spent battling with cockroaches. Freeze in the super-cool office. Rush through breakfast and lunch. Comment out little and big pieces of code to make it run in the available memory, in 21st century. Hunt around desperately for a Motorola charger for a phone that doesn't charge when hooked up to a comp. Not wish a friend on her birthday. Note her number down on the same page as a self-devised algorithm. Chat with mom, instead of talk.

Not realize its 'Chhoti Diwali' until a teammate wishes you while he's leaving office.

Waiting for a miracle :)

Happy Diwali!

Twitter

So, I just joined Twitter. And well, I was a little bored in office today. This, the thing that was not supposed to take a lot of my time, took a lot of my time.

Anyhoo, here I'd like to thank boo for getting me started, and also supplying me the tools with which I could make this on a photoshop devoid comp (without of course actually making the profiles these pics mention.)

And Dhruv D for the idea behind the Dolly-Tom coupling :) (check here to get to know what I'm saying)

And I'd also like to opportunity to virtual-yell at boo for letting me go on with this. Sheesh!!! :|

Oh well, I'd also like to thank mozilla and firebug. You're the best <3 Yeah and paint too.

I suppose I should probably thank JK Rowling too here. All the characters mentioned (Except Chuck Norris and Rajnikanth) are created by her, so banta hai.

Like I said, it took me a lot of time, so you better appreciate it. Else I'll get Voldie to write avada kevadra as a reply to you on twitter. (Yes I'm exhausted.)

[edit: CLICK ON THE PICS, ONLY THEN WOULD THIS MAKE SENSE.]

 

YAY!

This link is the first result on google if you search for my full name.

YAY!!!

Google PageRank _/\_

Thank you all whose blogs/webpages link to mine. (If you're wondering why I said this, check up the PageRank algo.) And all the people who have their links mentioned here, your PageRank increased too!!!! :D

Now kindly get back to things more worthwhile :)

Of lizards and paranoia

My roomie is on a vacation with family, which leaves me here alone. And today, while I was out for lunch, a lizard decided to hang out in my room.

So I come back, and I see this ugly big fat huge gross reptile on my wall. And as is my natural inclination to all things scaly and reptiley, I freak out.

I called up GV, who in the middle of catching his breath, in the middle of laughing really hard, asked me to get an egg shell, or onion shell, as those generally are considered effective in shooing lizards away. I muster some courage, and enter my room. The lizard senses my presence. It starts moving around on the wall, as it had probably realized that it had intruded upon my territory. And gets me thinking of an exit route if in case it decides to change planes and come on to the floor. Luckily it doesn't.

I dare to sit on my bed, get the laptop working and go online. I ping Sharan, who suggests yelling 'SHOO!' at the top of my voice. I yell (not at the top of my voice, my landlord's daughters no likey yelling) - nothing doing. It starts retreating into a crevice. Good sign, I think. I use the fundae I've learnt at PS, and send an SOS through my facebook account to my social network. I very soon realize this was not going to help. The lizard now is in a no-conflict zone, but the enemy still lurks about.

So, not knowing what to do, and acutely missing the roomie who at least can overcome the fear, I decide to let the lizard assume I'm very dangerous, but I still will grant it its life if it just shooes away from my territory. And hence I just go spend some time walking about and soothing my nerves on the terrace adjoining the room, hoping I won't have to make acquaintances with its family members.

This happened about an hour back, and so far the lizard has not come back. I can only hope the night comes and goes peacefully, with no more intrusions. Amen.

Traffic in the Sky - Part Two.

So I sat thinking, not realizing when I'd switched my radio set on.

There's traffic in the sky
and it doesn't seem to be getting much better
There's kids playing games on the pavement
Drawing waves on the pavement
mm hm

He should've come back by now, I thought. There seemed to be nobody outside at this time. Well, who would be, when it pours like it does here.

Shadows of the planes on the pavement
mm hm
It's enough to make me cry
But that don't seem like it could make it feel better
Maybe it's a dream and if I scream
it will burst at the seams and
this whole place will fall into pieces
and then they'd say...

So I sat again. Pacing around the room won't really help now, would it. I figured I'd go make some tea, strong with not too much sugar. The way he always likes it. He'd appreciate that more than just finding me waiting here, I thought. It's not like him to be late.

Well how could we have known?
I'll tell them it's not so hard to tell
na na na
if you keep adding stones
soon the water will be lost in the well
mm hm

There are times when I wish i weren't this short. I could hardly pick stuff up from the upper shelf. I made a mental note of telling him to keep things I might need somewhere I can reach, at least before he leaves home.

Puzzle pieces in the ground
but no one ever seems to be digging
Instead they're looking up towards the heavens
with their eyes on the heavens
mm hm
the shadows on the way to the heavens
mm hm

So I sat again, after keeping the tray with my cup of tea in front of me. It was still thundering, and I could hear the raindrops strike my glass window. His car might have broken down. Cellphone signals are anyway not something you could trust on days like these.

Everything momentarily brightened up, there was lightening outside. The lightening was followed by a loud clap of thunder.

It's enough to make me sigh
but that don't seem like it would make it feel better
The answers could be found
we could learn from digging down
But no one ever seems to be digging
Instead they'll say...

I finished my tea, and checked the pendulum clock we had got last year on my birthday. He should've come back hours ago. Power had gone ages back, and now the inverter too showed signs of going bust. I tried calling him up, but couldn't reach him.

I went to the window and looked outside. I must ask him to get the garage roof repaired, it would soon give way, if these heavy rains persist. Still no sign.

Well how could we have known?
I'll tell them it's not so hard to tell
na na na
If you keep adding stones
soon the water will be lost in the well
well, well...

My neighbour dropped by. So I went and made more tea, this time without too many problems. We had a polite conversation, and then before leaving she told me to go to sleep, and not keep on waiting. In any case, he has a key, she said.

Words of wisdom all around
but no one ever seems to listen
They talk about their plans on the paper
Building up from the pavement
mm hm
there're shadows from the scrapers on the pavement
mm hm
It's enough to make me sigh

I couldn't sleep, not with him somewhere outside in this torrential nightmare. I picked up a magazine, one of the many he had subscribed to, and liked reading.

but that don't seem like it would make it feel better
The words are all around
but the words are only sounds
and no one ever seems to listen
Instead they'll say...

So I sat down with the magazine, and started reading it. I didn't follow much of it, it was too technical for my taste. And then I got up to open the door, as I'd heard someone knocking it.

Well how could we have known?
I'll tell them it's really not so hard to tell
na na na
If you keep adding stones
soon the water will be lost in the well
lost in the well

So, you know where he is, I asked the gentleman who I had opened the door for, and subsequently made more tea for, when I thought it was safe to ask him that. I quite liked his demeanour, he was not one of those bossy people you meet so often these days. Besides, I quite liked his suit too, coloured an understated shade of grey.

Well how could we have known?
I'll tell them it's really not so hard to tell
na na na
If you keep adding stones
soon the water will be lost in the well
well, well.

He wasn't coming back, the grey-suited gentleman told me.

it's really not so hard to tell.

Traffic in the sky

There's traffic in the sky
and it doesn't seem to be getting much better
There's kids playing games on the pavement
Drawing waves on the pavement
mm hm
Shadows of the planes on the pavement
mm hm
It's enough to make me cry
But that don't seem like it could make it feel better
Maybe it's a dream and if I scream
it will burst at the seams and
this whole place will fall into pieces
and then they'd say...

Well how could we have known?
I'll tell them it's not so hard to tell
na na na
if you keep adding stones
soon the water will be lost in the well
mm hm

Puzzle pieces in the ground
but no one ever seems to be digging
Instead they're looking up towards the heavens
with their eyes on the heavens
mm hm
the shadows on the way to the heavens
mm hm
It's enough to make me sigh
but that don't seem like it would make it feel better
The answers could be found
we could learn from digging down
But no one ever seems to be digging
Instead they'll say...

Well how could we have known?
I'll tell them it's not so hard to tell
na na na
If you keep adding stones
soon the water will be lost in the well
well, well...

Words of wisdom all around
but no one ever seems to listen
They talk about their plans on the paper
Building up from the pavement
mm hm
there're shadows from the scrapers on the pavement
mm hm
It's enough to make me sigh
but that don't seem like it would make it feel better
The words are all around
but the words are only sounds
and no one ever seems to listen
Instead they'll say...

Well how could we have known?
I'll tell them it's really not so hard to tell
na na na
If you keep adding stones
soon the water will be lost in the well
lost in the well

Well how could we have known?
I'll tell them it's really not so hard to tell
na na na
If you keep adding stones
soon the water will be lost in the well
well, well.
it's really not so hard to tell.

IT'S COMING! IT'S COMING!!!!

(next up: swine flu)

PS. No, I'm not trying to usurp Bing as *the* cartoon-maker.

Bangalore Ahoy!

Been about two weeks since I landed here. I've ignored this little page on the world wide web for quite some time, and finally free time and boredom and a will to write coincide with availability of internet. (Sexy internet, btw!)

Well, so yes, I'm doing my PS-II at HP Labs India, Bangalore, and thus will be putting up here till December 11th at least. Now, since I am actually staying in the city this time around, and not a random place like Electronic City last year, well, a few things did catch my eye, some amusing, the other rather trying.

Anyway, in no particular order, here are the TOP 5 observations about B'lore (or B'luru, if you prefer your cities new-name abbreviated.)

1. It IS a cosmo, and very much so. Unless you are living in weird places like e-city and the like. You'll probably hear more Hindi in B'lore malls than those in Delhi ("Hindi's so unfashionable, na?" - 'Delhi-chick', circa 2000)

2. Keeping PG's is one of the best ways in Bangalore to mint money. All you need is lots of plywood, 6 single beds, two rooms and an axe. Well, maybe 12 half-mattresses and half-pillows too, one each for the people you'll accommodate in this space. It would fetch more money if you could arrange for a loo nearby as well.

3.

• There is no concept of a meter when it comes to auto-rickshaws, unless you get exceptionally lucky. The Bangalorean autos even leave their yellow-green counterparts in Delhi far behind in this race. Highly impartial, the 'one-and-half-times-meter' rule applies to all at night, Kannadiga or not.
• Buses ROCK! Unless of course you are travelling at night to Electronic city which is when you'll have to deal with rather obstinate and drunk gentlemen.

4. Quite a lot of roads here have their lengths measured. I mean, there is a 100 ft. road, and then I know of two 80 ft. roads, one each in Koramangala and Indiranagar. And probably only Bangalore has roads this proud of their lengths. I can only wish they increase the width of the roads, they somehow do not fit into the whole idea of Bangalore being this big and totally cool city.

Also, there are a lot of Crosses and Mains out here, and (I think) they are supposed to be perpendicular to each other; and a place which has in its address nth Cross and mth Main, need not be at the cross section of these two roads. I guess the city-planners didn't like Cartesian Geometry much.

5. The song 'If you come today', immortalised by Rajkumar (I apologize if I got the spelling wrong) is still in vogue here. Maybe not at malls (where they play Hindi songs, surprise surprise!) but surely at laundries, and sandwich shops etc. Timeless classic, one would believe.


So long, will get back with more later.

Adios.

Pure Sport.

SPREE is here!!!!

:D

http://www.bits-spree.org

Bhande phir se kali kara lo..!

Yes. Quark 2008 might be over, but the marketing, err... thread still lives. So well, one fine day Nimit Mehra (who if you remember was the head of the Marketing and Specials Committee, if you've read my previous post - http://myblog-pranshu.blogspot.com/2008/01/bhande-kali-kara-lo.html. Or if you just know about Q08's structure.)

This story involves me aka Pranshu Sharma aka Akhil Mehta, Tillu aka Akhil Mehta, Sanso aka Sanskriti aka pseudo-Akhil Mehta, Angad Single aka Angad Singh Gill, and The BOSS aka Nimit Mehra aka Akhil Mehta.

Wait, where was I? Yeah. Nimit decides we'll have a trip to celebrate the awesomeness of the best committee BITS has ever had. So he very conveniently tells me to make the plan. Arambol is cancelled, Vagator is our venue. Next, I am instructed to book a cab. So after calling up 8 cab bookers and leaving out the ones who were already booked, didn't pick up their phones, decided to fleece us, I finalized a guy, and so after a bit of bargaining, we had a cab.

All systems go, you might think.

Oh oh. This is gonna be a REAL LONG post. And on Tillu's recommendation:

PS. Do chicken daale tandoor mein, dono zinda the, ladne lag gaye (the joke with which it all started. :') ) Which song was playing in the background?

Ta tananana tandoori fights tandoori fights!

PPS. Do chicken daale tandoor mein, dono weight loss program mein enroll ho gaye. (Tillu's joke, words might have been changed a bit.) Which song was playing in the background?

Ta tananana tandoori diets, tandoori diets. (Note: this isn't a regular tandoori joke, as the joke doesnt end with -ites. But it is an interesting variation.)

Good. Now that Nimit and Tillu cannot avoid reading these jokes, lets begin with the story.

So the story starts with the five of us starting off from the campus without any money. Not too much, that is. All except Sanso. So then we went, on our way, with one customary rendition of Bhande Kali in that same soul-stirring voice, through Tillu's phone. And then we clicked pics, and found an ATM. The ATM didn't work. So we found another. Angad, Nimit and I took some money out, and made TIllu realize he needed money too.

Sanso and Gill then bought chips and Frooti etc while the cab was getting its tank filled with petrol. We started off, which is when we realized we had no straws to help us drink up our Frooti. Result:

Right. So after our Frooti adventures (I didn't have any, I never do. Wonder what happened to the pack they got for me.) Gill enusred his shirt got its share of Frooti too. Anyway, so without any more major mishaps we reached Vagator. Which is where I figured the plan was to climb up the fort, trek more like. My argument was this: I wasn't wearing my shoes (and instead slip-ons, pretty ones at that) because I saw Tillu in bathroom slippers. Apparently he didn't know about this part of the plan either, as was obvious from his comment when he saw the hill rising above us, "Yeh chadhna hai kya?"

Well, so we began the climb, well, began with beginning with the climb. We didn't realize we'd spend more time clicking pictures of ourselves, the scenery, ourselves+scenery, ourselves clicking pics of ourselves that we'd actually spend climbing up, and getting done with it. Proper photoshoot, it was, what with Gill being with us!

And then we reached the fort, where we clicked more pics. A little less walking, a little more clicking seemed to be the mantra of the day. And as soon as you thought things were geting mundane, Tillu saves the day with "Arre! Look! I'm wearing different chappals!"

And so we reached the fort, and looked at what was awaiting us. Brilliant blue with foamy white galloping across it, only to recede after it met the beige of the sand, all of this under the sun shining oh so brightly. (The last was more uncomfortable than beautiful, but you get the point.)

Then after a few more photos, Gill's camera's battery died, which is when we decided to get back to the beach. Now, how, was a tricky question. Just climb down the hill and get to the beach the quickest way, or go back the way we came to remain safe, and not risk slipping and falling down and breaking a few crowns.

Gill and Sanso (ones with sensible footwear) took the first path, while Nimit shepherded me and Tillu through the safe way.

Now this is where Tillu and I had our near-death experience, which almost killed us.

We walked up to the fort, and then we walked down to the road. Tillu slipped twice I think in this leg of the journey. Then we walked to a shop where we bought and drank water, which made Tillu make this obsedvation: "I was really dehydrated. Look, in fact, I've started to sweat now!"

And then we resumed our journey. And oh, earlier we had called the cabwala and told him to meet us at the beach, so we did not have a cab to take us there. Anyway, we then followed Nimit, who took us in this resort, which we circumambulated, only from inside. So we then walked down the innumerable stairs, with the Jamun trees doing their best to provide us with some shade, but falling short. And then we walked towards a spa when Sanso called up to ask us what the hell was taking us so long, after the driver had called up to tell us "Main bus ke paas rukela hai".

So with red faces, and no breath to spare, forcing our legs to go on, we followed Nimit, who then opened a rickety creaky gate, that led to the beach from the resort, and looked at us with his best triumphant look on his face.

To which I replied, "Kya ukhaad liya?" (and that was all me or Tillu could say then.)

And now not wearing shoes really killed me. You see, there was sand all over, and it isn't exactly cool fifteen minutes past noon. And so, with last remaining drag of energy, I ran across the beach, hoping I'd get away with just blisters on my feet, and not serious burns. Tillu wasn't very amused, he wanted to hit the beach. And I wanted to hit him, which I think I did.

Then we went and ate at Mango Tree, which our cabbie called the foreigners' place. Ad then we came back to Vagator, and decided to get to the rocks, go as close to the sea (safely) as we could. Which is when serious doubts about Tillu's state of mind crept in. Lack of sleep and overdose of food coupled with the long walk had made him very, well, confused about a lot of things in life. One of these things was climbing up on rocks on a beach.

Anyway, Tillu got by with a little help from his friends, and was fine. I sang Live forever by Oasis rather tunelessly to myself, and then decided to join Sanskriti, Angad, Tillu and Nimit there, thought I'd wet my feet for some time.

After careful calculation of the distance and depth of the gap between the rock I was currently on and the one I intended to be on, including the factor of slipperiness of each rock in question, for each set of such rocks I had to encounter, I finally reached these guys. And then I almost got swept off my feet once, and I don't mean it in a nice way, more with scary undertones. And then I didn't wanna go back, though the high tide kinda made it rather difficult for us(and even more so for Tillu) to get back to the beach. I had just finished commenting upon how I managed fine with my dainty slipons, when I fell with a thud and just about escaped hurting my back. (In my defence, it wasn't becuase of my slipons as I had them in my hand then, to avoid getting them soaked.)

Also, Tillu fell there too.

While we were on our way to Panjim, Lita called up! I mean, it just isn't a marketing trip wihtout Lita's input. And for a refreshing change, she actually laughed at my tandoori jokes! :') TIllu joined in too, with the diets version mentioned above. So we all talked to her, and after we had made enough fun of her and her Hindi ("Mera ghar bahut badi hai", for example) we finally let her get to her business. And then Nimit got senti. (Also, I think I heard a faint 'love you' before he kept the phone! :D ) So began reminiscence of the trips this committee went on, the friends we made, the people we bullied, the chores we did, the cash we barganied hard to save, the amazing times we had, on our actual 'Marketing' trip, trip to Vasco to get informals' goodies, trip to Panjim to get more goodies plus get some errands done, and the the trip to Colva, made immortal by Tillu's "Bhaiyya kheer nahin mangwayi."

Anyway, we went back on our way to Panjim, where we went to an undisclosed heaven of all things baked! Though the Opera Fantasy (forgot the actual name) wasn't that great. Bose speakers playing Paper Planes, while you experience chocolate melting in your mouth! Oh, and the Gelatos must be mentioned, especially Melon that Sanskriti took.

And then we came back, after our rather eventful journey, that even included a near-death experience, which, mind you, almost killed me. Did our hisaab-kitaab in front of my hostel, CH4, where Tillu was in grave danger of being caught asleep in front of a Girls' hostel and getting DISCOed.

And that's all, folks. That was how Marketing trip 2 went. As brilliant as any of the other trips we've had. Brilliant buncha hooligans, we were. Even the rather 'sane' ones like Pratik, who couldn't come. And I'll end here now, else Nimit will get super senti and maybe even cry like a baby.

Adios.

Last pic - courtesy Angad Singh Gill

Politics Shmolitics

'L K Advani for PM' all over the internet. Congress and their 'Jai Ho' mantra all over the media. Talks of a 'Fourth front'. Pawar pulling out of a rally at the eleventh hour. Everyone going all out to grab the vote bank's attention, and hope that converts into votes.

You know, all this talk about youngsters going and voting, it makes sense at a certain level. Voting is a fundamental right, and that unless you contribute to the process, things really would not change. I checked out www.jaagore.com too, lots of college mates are totally into the mode of voting for the right candidate, being a part of the process etc etc.

I agree, voting is vital. But then again, we don't really have a lot of choices. Sounds odd, given the number of parties plus independent candidates we have in the country. But then again, voting for these independent candidates won't really give you a government you want in the Parliament.

There's the NDA, with their 'we'll do anything to get the Hindu votes' agenda. Then there is the UPA, who are all about 'we'll do anything to get minority votes' plus their India Shining part 2 (better known 'Jai Ho') campaign. Then there is this something called the 'Third front', most of which is the Left parties, who believe in 'we'll never let anyone grow, all of us will be equally backward.'

Latest I've heard is about a 'Fourth Front', consisting of regional parties going big, like RJD, LJP etc.

I might sound cynical, but really, do we have a choice? What matters when you decide who runs the country, is numbers in the Lok Sabha. You might vote for a guy who you trust will work, he might win the seat too. But ultimately, the party he belongs to needs to win. And most, if not all, of the MPs from this party/alliance need to be progressive, and actually get some work done around here.

Every citizen has ONE vote. If say I like the Prime Ministerial candidate of party X, but I think that the candidate from party Y would make a better MP than the guy from X, how do I decide? X needs numbers to reign, the region needs the guy from party Y. What had happened five years back, was that no one party/major alliance got the people's nod. And so the UPA was formed, which (lo and behold!) had the Left front and the Congress working together. Last minute manipulations, buying, compromises and hiding of MPs was what it took to make the government.

Yes, the turnout makes a resounding statement in states like J&K, where the courage of the people shows in the voting turnout. Yes, it makes everyone sit up and notice that the citizens of India are aware of their rights, and demand progress. But it really doesn't go beyond the symbolism, does it?

General Elections are here. Soon enough we'll be sitting in front of the television, listening to experts rattle on about how a particular region is the vote bank of a particular person/party, and forget in the calculations that we are the people who make up some or the other vote bank.

Unless and until EVERYONE in the country gets over the fundamental divides (minority issues, caste issues) we will have to stick with leaders who will continue manipulating us, using these weaknesses to get to the coveted kursi. And that is something nearly impossible, kinda like a vicious circle.

Well, I hereby end this rather loosely-written post on The Great Indian Dance of Democracy (I think a channel's used this line, not sure.) Hope it made some sense.

New New!

Got bored of the old colour, I mean, the looks of the blog weren't changed since it was created, that is about 4 5 years ago.

A little less of black & white in this scheme, and a little more of beige and earthy tones. As is rather obvious, if I might add.

Content still covers every end of the spectrum and everything that lies in between.

And now I really will get back to my project. No more AOE, no more distractions.

Cya!

Blogger's Block

Not the first time I've experienced this. Kinda similar to Writer's Block, which plagues many world-wide.

Now, come to think of it, Blogger's Block, is just a specialized term for Writer's Block. When do people not write? Sometimes there's no will. Sometimes there's no content. Sometimes you have an idea, but can not find words to convey it. Writer's Block typically is the last scenario (at least for me), though sometimes there really is no content either.

Pretty weird, and rather inconvenient, this Block business. For example, I am walking on a street, and the streetlight just shuts - like it toggles whenever someone walks close to it, and the feeble orange glow it was emanating vanishes. And then I see the moonlight spreading its milky silver all over the place. I pause, and look around for some ten seconds. A brilliant line comes to my head, potent enough to paint an image in the listener/reader's mind.

So I come back, late night, feel like writing, putting the image in the head into words. When the words fail me. I have that one line (if I'm lucky), but no beginning and end, no idea how to construct an envelope of words, that would get the message through. (Not exactly the best pun in the world, blame the Block.)

Or when you see a silhouette of a boat between two islands, as the sun moves westwards. Or when you see a dog trying to figure out why keechad is fun for humans on Holi. Or when you just sit and shut your eyes, and feel the breeze going past you. Words that are there in your head, just refuse to come out.

Blocks really suck. :|

...It was just another night

The light was leaving

In the west it was blue

The children's laughter sang

And skipping just like the stones they threw

Their voices echoed across the way

Its getting late

It was just another night

With a sunset

And a moonrise not so far behind

To give us just enough light

To lay down underneath the stars

Listen to papas translations

Of the stories across the sky

We drew our own constellations

The west winds often last too long

The wind may calm down

Nothing ever feels the same

Sheltered under the Kamani tree

Waiting for the passing rain

Clouds keep moving to uncover the scene

Stars above us chasing the day away

To find the stories that we sometimes need

Listen close enough, all else fades

Fades away

It was just another night

With a sunset

And a moonrise not so far behind

To give us just enough light

To lay down underneath the stars

Listen to all the translations

Of the stories across the sky

We drew our own constellations

A big THANK YOU to Jack Johnson! :)

Untitled, part two.

Hope. Catch 22. Despair. Loneliness. Conscience. Frustration. Disillusionment. Hurt. Apathy. Indifference. Introspection. Tiredness. Frivolity. Coming clean. Alternatives. Reassurance. Support. Euphemism. Realization. Denial. Sadness. Numbness. Refusal.

Survival.

Life.