Yeah whatever...

Cranky.

2009-11-11T18:19:00.004+05:30

There's tomato soup in the air and a pack of cream biscuits, slightly soft (I like biscuits that are slightly soft, like when you've left them out in humid air for sometime. Just the way I like molten chocolate more than fresh-out-of-the-fridge ones) in front of me.

Homeostatis it is, for a hungry soul.

I was going to write about ... stuff. This is the fourth time I've erased and begun all over, so I think we'll skip those stuff. They weren't important anyway. Seriously!

In the past 2 days, I found out things about my classpeople. The conclusion to be drawn really, is that apart from the fact that they really love to "talk", they can't keep things to themselves. No respect for personal privacy either.
To be honest, not much concerns me. But I'm beginning to realize that not every person says, "Dude, it's as much about them as it is about me, so I really don't want to talk about it." It being an event or incident that is about 2 people and that can really do without being broadcasted. Am I any better? I don't think so.

Another thing is a "sautan". I understood what it meant due to the context it was used in. But for some reason it really, really turned me off. I can't pinpoint the exact reason. I mean, I know it's being used as a joke and stuff, but it kinda reeks of being-used-ness. Reminds me about the guys-are-playboys-but-girls-are-sluts?-fuck-off! debate.
And I thought they were nice people!

And as I type the last few words of this post, all that's left of the biscuits are crumbs. Instead, there's a cup of red tomato soup with lots of butter and lots of pepper. Cuz that's how I like it. :D

Pottering Around.

2009-11-03T23:02:00.001+05:30

You know what I'm currently in love with? This guy's photography!

Fucking brilliant.

"I Thought We Were Supposed To Learn To Program, Not To Deliver Children."

2009-10-29T22:48:00.004+05:30

"A stack operates on the Last In First Out principle. What you Push in the last will be Popped the first. To define the Push and Pop functions, you have to initialise the top of the stack with a -1. Now let us say the user runs Push 5 times and Pop only 2 times...". The computer teacher continued about Pushing and Popping.

"Dude. It's so weird when he says Push and Pop so much! It's so sexual!"

"It sounds more like a delivery actually."

"Yeah! Push and push and out pops the kid."

Feezyx

2009-10-29T19:06:00.003+05:30

Physics Intersection Quiz prelims made by me and Sacman.

Level: Class 10th

1. The name of this popular dance move is an oxymoron, since low gravity would make it very difficult to perform. What are we talking about?

2. What does applying torsion to an object do to it?

3. When these devices first came out, they were called “optical masers” where maser stood for "Microwave Amplification by Stimulated Emission of Radiation". What name do we use for them now?

4. One of black light’s uses is to detect trace amounts of pet excreta. What is black light made of that causes cat’s urine to glow in it?

5. In acoustics, what is the unit equal to 0.1 bel?

6. Katherine K. Whitcome of the University of Cincinnati, Daniel E Lieberman of Harvard University and Liza J. Shapiro of the University of Texas, won this award in the Physics category this year for analytically determining why pregnant women do not tip over. What prizes are these?

7. Who said “All science is either Physics or stamp collecting”, while rejecting the Nobel Prize for Chemistry?

8. Connect: Ladle, the Alaskan state flag, Saucepan, the Plough.

9. "I lowered my left foot and the thin crust gave way. Soft contact. There, it was done. A Cernan bootprint was on the moon." Who said this and what is he famous for?

10. On the Mach scale, how much is the speed of sound?

11. According to the Edwin Hubble’s system, E0, E 1-7, Sa, Sb and Sc are classifications of :

a) stars b) galaxies
c) pulsars d) orbits

12. Which 1921 Nobel laureate and theoretical physicist was offered the post of the President of Israel?

13. ______________ is used to deviate a beam of light by 90 degrees. Of its 7 faces, 2 are silvered and 3 others don’t participate. Variations of this optical instrument are used in cameras.

Try them out. Answers in 5 days. I'll just add an update on this post and publish them. So.

Answers:

1. Moonwalk. Surprisingly, very few got this right. There were ballets and a pirouette and salsa. Somebody even wrote "flamingo". I hope they meant "flamenco".
2. Twists/turns/rotates it
3. Lasers. Most people answered microwave. :P
4. UV light
5. 1 decibel
6. Ig Nobel Prizes. Yet another one that hardly anyone got right. Practically everyone wrote Nobel Prizes. Ha.
7. Ernest Rutherford (I read this in some places, but no biography of Rutherford mentions this. So I'm assuming this is just a rumour. Sorry about this.)
8. Big Dipper. The Alaskan flag has the Big Dipper and the rest are names for it in different countries. Just cuz it said "Connect", one team's answer was: "The Ladle made the Alaskan state flag using a plough and a saucepan. And 2 more wrote these words down and simply made arrows between them. They took "Connect" a little too literally, I guess.
9. Eugene A Cernan - last man on the moon. I was surprised to see that no one got this right. EVERYbody said Neil Armstrong. Like, WTF?
10. Mach 1
11. galaxies. The classifications are made based on the shape.
12. Einstein.
13. Pentaprisms.
This time round, we asked the kids to name their teams and allowed upto 3 teams per section. One of the unanimous favourites was called "Herd of Nerds".

Two States - Bad and Worse

2009-10-29T17:56:00.004+05:30

The last time, I left you with photographs from Diwali.

This time, I intend to write a little. Not that I have anything specific to write about. My days consist of trying to stay awake in class and trying to sleep at night and trying to study when I'd rather watch TV instead.

I had intended to write about the austerity drive when it was still a hot topic, but never got around to it then, and I won't get around to it now. Instead, I'll diss Chetan Bhagat's latest book, 2 States for a change. It's been a long time since I've khule dil se dissed something/body! (Thanks Ish, for getting me started on this..)

First of all, I could done a better job with the book's cover. I hope they improve it in the reprints and reduce the intensity of the red.

The story, as the book says, is the story of his marriage. A more melodramatic marriage I cannot imagine. In one part of the book, he kneels down in front of his girlfriend's family with 4 big rings and asks all of them to marry him.

This is the fourth book by him and the central female character (the "heroine", shall we say?) stays quite the same. She is really goodlooking, she wears Indian clothes and behaves like a girl you can take home to your mother and yet, she leaps into bed at the slightest provocation and isn't as conservative as you would have thought. After his first two books were made into movies, it seems like that's what he keeps in mind while writing.

In this book, he has tried to portray cultural differences between North Indians, in particular, Punjabis and South Indians, in particular, Tamilians and how love crosses all boundaries and emerges the winner. Somewhere along the line, you wonder whether it is mocking all those failed inter-cultural marriages that you keep reading about in the newspaper.

In an attempt to bring out the differences, Chetan Bhagat has stereotyped the Punjabis and the Tamilians, doing a far worse job with the former because the story is written from the point of view of a Punjabi guy. Some stereotypes are of the mildly funny category where you can laugh at yourself if you're Punjabi and say, "That's so much like us!" But most of them show Punjabis as a money-loving, bragging people who would prefer their son marrying a girl who finds operating MS Word difficult over an IIM-schooled person. And how first impressions are drastically altered because they find out that the girlfriend is fair and good looking.

Some things, I will admit are prevalent in the society, such as the obsession with a lighter skin tone and the obsession with getting or giving a good dowry. And perhaps it is my prejudice against the existence of such practices that influenced my view of this book. But there is no denying the extreme Bollywoodisation including, atleast, five places earmarked for a song-and-dance sequence.

Chetan Bhagat's happy endings rarely manage to be inspiring like other happy endings. Perhaps the overly dramatic narrative has something to do with it.

Procrastination

2009-10-20T17:56:00.004+05:30

I keep intending to blog and never get around to it. Bleh.

First of all, everybody, I post pictures of Diwali, including my benzene-ring-structure inspired rangoli. :D

Laiiiights. From my house. The blue ones aren't visible. Bleh. I like blue/violet lights.

Credits: Organic Chemistry. ;)

"Taash party? All I know is Bluff.."

2009-10-16T21:43:00.003+05:30

And that is what we played. Bluff.

We did have one game of Teen Patti however, but since no real money (or houses. Or kidneys) were being bet, everyone bet freely. So yes, it was back to Bluff and one short game of Truth and Situation.

You know what I like the best about Diwali?

I like the muted bangs and fizzes, the lights in everyone's houses, the vague smokiness in the air and the little cold that tells you that winter is approaching. I like the evenings under open sky, when it gets dark quicker than in summers. And I like the free firework displays visible from my windows.

I don't like the actual day, Diwali as much. There's too much noise and there's always the hazard of walking over an about-to-burst cracker.

Happy Chhoti Diwali, everyone!

_

2009-10-09T20:17:00.002+05:30

Rest In Peacce, IGL Gas Pipeline. Must have been a tragedy, so many dead.

"Horn OK Please. But no AK-47s. Thanks."

When 'Agg' Doesn't Mean 'Aggarwal'

2009-10-02T14:20:00.000+05:30

Notice 'Pis' and 'Nuduce' as well. :P

21 Newer Ways To Lose Your Butt

2009-09-22T14:46:00.004+05:30

The butt-thieves are on the prowl to sneak your butt to butt-heaven, where it has better uses that cushioning you and passing foul odors and foul solid-liquids. The reader beware.

1. Flush butt down toilet accidentally - Precaution: Get up before flushing.

2. Laugh Your Ass Off/Be the butt of the joke - We use the innocent phrase 'LMAO' so often in our online conversations. But in all seriousness, we should watch what we say, because you never know when the butt-thieves take it to mean that you desire to be parted with yours.

3. Fall Down - One butt-crack is quite enough for one person. Be careful that you don't add to it. One day, you might find your butt totally broken.

4. Mosquitos bite butt off - If that happened, I'll just have one thing to ask, "What the hell were you doing letting mosquitoes access your BUTT!?"

5. Scratch off - In the unfortunate circumstance that mosquitoes bite your butt, but it stays attached nevertheless, you can always scratch it off due to the bites.

6. Wear it off - Take one speeding car. Take one human (self) with butt-intact. Cross road while speeding car approaches. Make sure distance between car and human is negligible. Wait for the car to brush off butt.

7. Fart it off - Consume gassy foodstuff. When the gaseousity grows uncontrollable, plug your ears and let loose. You might find your butt detached, your trousers holed, and butt lying a little distance away. We are not responsible for the ensuing smell and it's consequences.

8. Buttslap - By varying the pressure and intensity of a buttslap, your butt can be made to successfully implode.

9. Bite it off - Take one dog. Take one yummy dog biscuit. Stick dog biscuit into back pocket. Alternatively, stick it up ass. Use butt to entice dog. Wait for dog to get enticed. Let dog get at bicsuit. Casualties in the process: your butt.

10. Shake your booty - It might come off in the process.

11. Slice it off - Sometimes, under strange gravitational forces, running a fan at a very high speed can cause it to fall down vertically, thereby slicing your butt off.

12. Fevicolize it - Spread Fevicol on floor. Sit down on floo innocently as if you can't see the patch of white glue. Wait for Fevicol ki mazboot jodh to take effect. Get up, leaving butt behind on floor.

13. Himesh Reshammiya it off - Stick a mic up you-know-where and blast out loud Himesh music. Your ears will be protected by the cushioning provided by butt, but you are still advised to use earmuffs for added protection. Wait for 3 minutes and 27 seconds. Go from butty to buttless!

14. Donate - Lend a helping hand to the butt-theft victims, donate butt. Organ-donation is a noble act.

15. Kick some ass - Yours. If you manage to do this though, I will greatly start to appreciate your physical elasticity and flexibility.

16. Bullseye! - Or humansbutt!, this technique requires you to stand in the path of a charging bull, back towards it. Preferably wiggle your butt too, because unlike common folklore, it's movement that attracts the bull, not the colour.

17. Via windowpanes - When the weather's particularly stormy, curious pressure conditions can cause your windowpane glasses to leap off your windows and slice off your butt.

18. Bore butt off - Take one very boring borewell, sit and gaze at it, until your butt dies of boredom or decides to commit harakiri by jumping into the well, just to get your attention.

19. Take it with a pinch of salt - Next time a butt pincher pinches your butt, just make sure that he hasn't pinched your butt. It could be a butt-thief, looking to trap unsuspecting butts and taking them to butt-heaven as was mentioned at the start of this post.

20. Develop badassity - Caused by fermentation of ass, so that it turns bad. Or, due to growth of fungi, which might well be butt-eating fungi. Better be sorry and have had fun, than safe.

21. Butt out - Opposite of butting in. It involves your butt being out. :P

Your Love Story

2009-09-20T13:15:00.002+05:30

This is a thoroughly cheesy love story. It was written for a friend. I kinda made it up as I went along, telling him the story over the phone, and then later decided to write it down.

***

It will be in DCE. DCE, first year.

There will be a girl in your batch - call her Payal if you will, the name isn't important - who is the heroine of this story. She will be tall, good looking, but in a no-make-up way, have huge eyes and nice skin and long dark hair. Imagine highlights if you wish - red highlights.
You won't even bother to be friends with her because you will just assume she won't be worth it.

But one day, you'll find her sitting by herself somewhere. You will be waiting for your friend to lend you those game CDs he promised to. He will come and he'll exchange a few words about the games you're about to play. When you'll get up to go back, she'll simply say, "he's wrong. It doesn't happen that way."
And your first conversation will begin. You'll find that she's a girl-geek though extremely sociable and nice.

And eventually, from that day onwards, you guys shall start talking - about video games, your plans for world domination, computer hacks, world politics, anything. She'll be funny and she'll find you funny. At times, you'll even wonder what she sees in you, but you'll just push that thought away because you're happy you're such good friends with her.
Once in a while, you'll even wonder if you like her, but once again, you won't dwell on it because you don't want to do anything you think will jeopardize your friendship.

Then one day, Transformers 3 will release and both you geeks will go to watch it. You'll have so much fun cracking your own inside bad jokes while watching the movie, you'll forget the rest of the movie hall. You'll forget there are others. You'll even forget the movie at times.

That will be your first unofficial date.

***

DCE, third year. Or fourth year. The timeline smudges at this point.

One day, your friend, one of your guy pals, comes up and asks, "Kya haal hai yaar? Maine suna tu us ladki ke saath go out kar raha hai?"
You are wont to brush it off since it isn't true, "Nahi yaar. Aisa kuch bhi nahi hai. We are just friends."
"Bakwas mat kar. You're all she talks about!"
"Phir ja us se hi pooch le bey!"
And you walk off. Your mood's spoilt. Stupid people spreading rumours.

But later that evening, as you prepare to stay up all night studying for next day's test, his words creep back into your brain. You wonder if it's true. You wonder what would happen if you were going out. And hence, for the first time, you seriously consider that. You give in to months of repressed what-ifs. You begin to imagine being with her. You try calling her you "girlfriend" in your mind. You're amazed at the ease with which you can do that.

Then suddenly you wake up from these daydreams and realize you have a test in less than 8 hours staring at you in your face.

Even as you push away all thoughts of her and try to concentrate on your half-complete notes, you begin to realize how futile an effort that is.

The next day is your test.
Expectedly, it goes off really badly.
You see her waiting for you as you exit the class, really sleep and really cranky.
She's looking good and happy, you notice. Her test went nicely.

"Hey wuzzup? How did the test go? What's wrong, yaar? You look dead", she asks all in one go.
"I'm okay. Test was okay", you mumble.
"Are you sure? It doesn't seem like it. But oh well, if you insist. I'll take your word for it. Mine went pretty well actually. I couldn't-- "
You cut in through her babble.
"Shut up man. I like you. Go out with me?"

It is sudden, a tad rude and accompanied by a frown on your face.

"Uhhhm. I think you need to sleep. I'll see you when you're less grumpy."

And that is that. She walks off. You could make out a slight annoyance in her voice. And you suddenly wish words could be unsaid. You wish you weren't so rude. You wonder what happens now. Will she be angry with you and not talk to you ever again? Will there be a slight awkwardness between you now, because perhaps, she only saw you platonically? Was that guy just kidding? Maybe he was just poking fun at you. She probably never saw you as anything more than a really good friend.
Suddenly the test results don't matter.
You wonder what she'll say now. She was obviously pissed.
You start on an "Oh no!" track, repeating everything over and over again.

But in your room, later that day, you take her advice and sleep.

In the evening you worry again because you haven't seen her till now.
You decide to look for her in the place she likes to hang out by herself - the place where you first met her.

She isn't there either.

Now you're really worried. Maybe she's avoiding you.

You turn back to your hostel.

And you find her there.

By now you're almost afraid of what she'll say, so in an attempt to ward off awkwardness, you say, "Oh yeah. Your DVDs." And you

run upstairs to get them, before she can say anything.

When you get back with them, she isn't there.

You look around, but you still can't see her.

You look down, your fingers reaching into your jeans pocket for your phone and you begin to dial her number. You have it memorized.

Just before you can press the 'Call' button, girl-arms hug you from behind and you hear a voice in your ear say, "Yeah sure man. I'd love to go out with you."

Poets and English Teachers

2009-09-17T15:58:00.005+05:30

Shopaholic and Baby has had a strange effect on me. It's strange because it didn't happen the first time I read it. Now every time I see little kids, I think about how they were created.
Oh shuttup, pervs. Almost in a cellular way I mean. Weird. Like when I see people who have skins a tad too transparent, I can see their blood vessels and it's creepy at the same time, but interesting too and I start imagining blood whooshing about.

Anyway, yes, I was planning to upload the rest of the Truth And Dare videos. But it takes too much time. So.

*softly sniggers to self*

If my English teacher saw how I've been spending my time today, the eve of the English half yearly exams, she would really throw a fit. Sometimes I wonder what the big deal about teaching English is anyway. All you have to do is know meanings of slightly big words, and be able to repeat the same sentence in the text in 3 different ways, just in case someone didn't understand a simple sentence the first time they read it. I personally think it's the poetry that really tests an English teacher's skill. It certainly tests my patience. Half of them don't even rhyme - blank verse, they're called.

Let's tackle a poem from my course: An Elementary School Classroom in a Slum. Here are its last few lines:

And show the children to green fields, and make their worlds
Run azure on gold sands, and let their tongues
Run naked into books the white and green leaves open
History theirs whose language is the sun.

Language of the sun? WTF?!

It's like, when the poet doesn't know how to express him/herself, s/he writes poetry. Have something to say? Don't know how to express yourself? Write a poem! It's actually kinda foolproof. It's like that Naked Emperor story. Most of us, including the poet doesn't understand what has been written, but we all pretend like we do so that others can't call us stupid. Although yes, it does generate employment for English teachers, so I guess poets can't be all that evil.

That said, I admit I don't understand most poems (it's important to be able to differentiate between poems and rhymes. Rhymes rhyme. And they're usually understandable. Unless it's Jabberwocky, in which case, it's intended to not make sense) and I usually skip them when i come across any. Yes, I've written a few rhymes (I call them poems in order to sound more intellectual), and they all rhyme. You'll never catch me writing blank verse. If I did, I might as well write prose. Which is what I do when I don't want to rhyme. Which means, for all intents and purposes, anybody who's ever written an original paragraph is a blank verse poet.

By the way, as if poets not making sense wasn't enough, they are allowed to get by with wrong grammar as well. It's called poetic license.

And then all the poets wonder why they are misunderstood-nobodies. Sigh.

I link two poems here: a rather hilarious rhyme and a blank verse. The latter has a similar theme to my post, but I assure you, if anything's "influenced" me, then it would be the English exam with its list of poems that awaits me tomorrow.

"You Are Now A Historical Person."

2009-08-31T17:37:00.015+05:30

August 12th combined three events in our school - the Investiture Ceremony, the Principal quitting her job, and her birthday. The school, for some strange reason, decided it would be a treat for the children and their parents and the teachers and the Principal, to present a musical (of sorts) on different religions. No, I'm sorry. Not the school. The value education teacher.

The appointees marched past the Principal like a rampaging army, took the oath and sat down under the open sky, on open grass, having to tolerate the open sun.

Oh yes, she thought, it be delightful to showcase dances (performed by teachers) with a religious undertone to a large audience sitting under the gloriously hot sun. She must have been so kicked when she'd thought of it. The principal really couldn't have asked for a more fitting farewell. She must have been superbly kicked with herself and her idea and immediately descended into visions of a large cheering audience and standing ovations and flower petals thrown at her feet and cries of "Encore!"

Strangely enough, everyone politely clapped through dances on popular Bollywood songs remixed to contain religious meaning, groaned loudly, yelled "No!" at her when she asked if we weren't absolutely delighted and the Principal told her to shut the f*** up and end it. Fast. When she told the audience, now steadily steaming, under the lovely, bright sun, that she'd been asked to keep her little speeches in between short, we stopped thinking so poorly of the poor ole school. But then she went into a mad gale of laugher and said, "But what can I do? The dancers aren't ready yet! It's God's will that I carry on. Nothing happens without God's will. He leaves me no choice but to speak more."

We silently contemplated throwing our shoes at her. Or the wooden sandals they used as props for the little dance on Sai Baba. (Or was it Guru Nanak?) We swore loudly and fanned ourselves with our white kurtas - the famous white kurtas that suspiciously resemble a bleached potato sack that the appointees wear, year after year.

After all the speeches, all the dances we magnanimously bore, came the moment that we were waiting for. Free food time! There was a mad rush for the cold drink stand and for the fans that we didn't have the privilege of sitting near. After everyone had smiled for the camera, posed in the sacred-appointee-clothes and eaten vast amounts of ice cream, we were shooed towards our assigned classrooms. While the teachers partied, we would mind classes. No big deal, right?

Not at all. The Quizzing Club filled into one of the 7th grade classes (after the teachers glared at us playing Wall Touch/ Wall To Wall in the lobby) and started the bestest ever Truth and Dare. I shall leave you all with videos. And some photographs.

Dare: Stuff paper up your nostrils, flail arms about and say, "I'm a walrus!"

Dare: Make out with yourself in the corner.

There was a pattern to our Dares, however. They were novel. No asking out. (Oh heck, who am I kidding, they made me ask out a 7th grader who was by far, the most unspoilt midget we got to see that day. He would squeal if we so much as kept our bags on his table.) And they progressively got worse. The first one, which was given to me, had me rubbing out lines on the white board using my nose.

Dare: Hump the table.

This one is by far, the most sexually explicit Dare on tape. There was another one, though untaped, where the President obliged to show us how to use a dildo using a chart paper roll.

Dare: Here's a chair. It's a pole. Pole dance around it.

This one was a repeated Dare. And sorry for the tilt. Someone else was taping it and I forgot to mention that I don't know how to rotate videos.

Dare: Say, "I'm Superman!" and jump down from the teacher's table.

This is no doubt one of the more *innocent* videos. And a little lame too, at that.

Dare: Stuff your bag up your kurta, go to the kid you asked out before, and tell him that he's a Dad now.

The poor kid freaked out after our Dares targetted him twice. Oh well. You can't really hear what's being said in the video - whoever took this isn't going to be a cameraman in a hurry.

I will upload the rest of them later. Have to go. Tell me what you think of these.

P.S. If anybody thinks this is crude, uncivilised forms of humour, please leave those who find it funny alone. You needn't laugh with us.

2009-08-29T23:55:00.004+05:30

Yes it has been a while. My computer had conked out sometime back. Now it's running, but it has been thoroughly formatted, so I'm officially songless. And I have been forbidden downloads by my brother cuz he's going to try to Undelete some of the formatted stuff.

Oh and my iPod. There's another sad tale right there. I had the old version of Shuffle. So to charge it you need to flip off a cap, then stick it into the USB port. One day, after sufficiently charging it, I pull it out, only to find one part still in the port and the other part in my hand with a little wiry thing hanging. So that's as good as the charge it still holds. Which I'm afraid isn't much.

I can't blog much now, but I intend to post videos about the Truth and Dare session we had during our Investiture Ceremony. Very interesting, won't you admit, to see the President of the Quizzing Club making out with himself in the corner? Or the Secretary of the same pole-dancing with a chair? In a roomful of 7th graders that too. Tch tch.

Anyway, till that time, I leave you all (whoever remains) with a few sunset photos.

Sunset in Kasauli. The picture is more of the Sunset Point than from the Sunset Point.

Lights in the city of Shimla after the sun has gone down.

Notice the blueness. And also, welcome to the view from my house. =)

Now, notice the fierce redness. This picture is minutes before the previous picture.

One more from yesterday's sunset.

This one is today's.

This again, is part of the view from my house. A much older photograph. If I've posted it before, my sincere apologies.

2009-08-09T16:47:00.002+05:30

The news and the newspapers.
Perhaps rereading the darkest book in the Harry Potter series heightens your sensitivity to such things. Perhaps you just chanced upon the worst stories in the newspaper. Perhaps you're a voyeur like everyone else, delighting secretly in the tales of death and destruction. As long as it doesn't happen to anyone you know, or anywhere near you.

Some time ago, I read this short article in the newspaper about a woman who was run over repeatedly on a busy road by cars too busy to stop, till she was unrecognisable. Yesterday the news channel told us about a mentally challenged man being being beaten up cruelly by the Jharkhand Police for turning violent. Some time ago, cases of villages taking justice in their own hands turned up where the punishment for theft was being beaten up and left to drown in a river. We all remember the Nithari serial killings, where children were being killed and disposed off in the drains. We come across cases of young girls brought down from Nepal, with job promises and then made to sell their selves. A few days back Emraan Hashmi spoke up about being denied a house because of his religion. Then there are the farmer suicides casting a shadow on India Shining. That's not even half of it, is it?

If you are really interested in what goes on in the murky depths of this developing nation, Slumdog Millionaire might give you a fair idea. That was a movie I couldn't watch. If anything, it gave me a sense of hoplessness and despair - that no matter what we're doing, we cannot even begin to do anything about all that's going wrong everywhere. Even if we could improve the system, what can we do about people? Can we catch hold of everyone and reform each and every one of them? Can we stop corruption, end global warming, cure AIDS, remove stigmas and root out discrimination? Can we cause people to think that everyone is no less than them and cause them to show equal respect to them? Can we change their mindsets towards education, minorities and women? When you consider the thin line between realism and pessimism, I have to say this falls on the realism side.

"I Dare You To Tell The Truth."

2009-08-09T16:41:00.003+05:30

"Situation or Truth?"
"Erm. Truth", said he.
My curious friend pounced upon this God-given chance.
"Who did you say you once had a crush-"
"Arre! Nooo. Situation then."
A verbal debate ensued about the appropiateness of changing your choice mid-question. And a brainwave struck me, designed to help my friend.
"You wanted Situation right?"
My tone was making him queasy. But he didn't see how it could be worse than Truth.
"Er, yeah. Situation."
"Well then, suppose you're playing Truth and Dare with a group of friends and one of them, say this girl," I pointed at my friend,"asks you who you once upon said you liked. Who's name would you take?"

Rakhi

2009-08-05T19:26:00.002+05:30

Sawant. Not.
Enough of her. If I ever have to hear about how hard she's worked to be where she is, I'm gonna scream. Enough already! It's not like she's anything more than a TV person and an item number dancer. Bleh.
But while we're talking about her, what do you think, how long till Rakhi Ka Swayamvar Cycle 2 airs?

What the title of the post actually refers to is Rakshabandhan. The same old tradition of thanking brothers for "protecting" you. This year, for the first time in my entire life, I tied a rakhi to a non-brother guy. Me and Friend actually made them, out of red string and 2 strands of white thread we get to tie up our test papers with. It was as a joke, honestly. Cuz of him being one year older than the next oldest in class. When he turned 18 this year, I'd begun calling him "Bhaiyaji" as a joke and asking him whenever I saw him for aashirwaad that I get as good marks as him. The next thing I know, it has spread in the hostel and every hosteller (nearly) has begun addressing him as Bhaiyaji.

So today, these people had a huge opportunity waiting to be exploited. Which they did. Peep into class and wave happily at bhaiyaji and call him this. Or scold me for not having a heart. For being a heartless, cruel, cold bitch. Asking me how I could do this to him. Etc.

On a funkier note, me and Friend fairlifted two erasers from the book fair in the school. They were funky, matching star-shaped erasers. :D

Untitled

2009-08-01T10:45:00.002+05:30

Okay so the Columban Open Quiz was bad.

First they run outta papers just when they reach our row, then they run outta papers just when they reach our team. And then they start collecting from our end. We damned well got a good 7 minutes too little for our quiz. Ten minutes into the written round, they begin the audio-visuals. Then, 2 minutes after that, it's Collection Time. No time to make guesses. We divided our paper into 2, but due to the lack of time, we didn't cross-examine the answers. Answers one half of our team could've got in the other half of the paper went unnoticed.

You may say we're just making excuses for ourselves, and perhaps you're right too. Please don't ask how many we got right, okay? (And if you do, I'll say 1 and 3/4ths. So don't ask.)

On the other hand, two teams I know are giving their semis at this moment. So I wish they win. *sends out mental winning vibes* Surprisingly though, this time, neither of our Quizzing Club Presidents have reached the semis. And in a blatant show of dislike, I'm happy they haven't. If they think they can boss little kids around just because they have (or despite having) a chin that looks like it'll disintegrate any moment, they lose all our respect.

I have returned to Facebook, but happily keeping off it for an entire day at a stretch. Instead, I grow more and more fond of doing nothing. For example, just the other day, I made chocolate chip cookies. I prefer having the chocolate without the cookie part, but the cookies ddin't turn out so badly (though a tad too salty) so I'm not really complaining. :D

2009-07-26T19:28:00.004+05:30

After nearly a year, I publish the questions of the Geography Quiz Finals.
The answers are given alongside. Feedback would be much appreciated.

Credits: Subohi Khan and moi.
Level: Class Xth
Format: Slideshow

Nail Art

2009-07-26T17:48:00.004+05:30

When my blue-red combination of nailpaint got mistaken for Barcelona fanship, someone suggested painting flags of countries on my nails. I tried. To some success. Try guessing the countries?

Forgive the wrong colours (gold for yellow, for example), I didn't have the proper ones.

Also, here's a pattern I tried out on my toenail. The space makes it easy to work. :D

The Solar Eclipse

2009-07-22T21:49:00.003+05:30

I managed to capture some images from the solar eclipse. My faithful camera was actually the only way I could view it without burning my eyes out. And while Delhi didn't go dark at dawn like some other places did, there was nevertheless a visible eclipse.

And since we are doing sun photos after all, here's one I took of a sunset. The sun ain't there, but the colour of the sky, maaaan! It was slightly stormy that day, so the colours are even clearer.

Fairy Tales

2009-07-10T22:43:00.005+05:30

Niva could see fairies. She saw them at night. And at day too, but their hazy, gray forms were less visible in all the light. They weren't anything like the fairies she had read about - no frilly skirts, no magic wands, no dance, music or glitter, no toadstool parties, no minusculity.

If she hadn't known them better, she might have thought they were ghosts.
But no, they were fairies alright.
Because fairies have an aim, a Purpose. Ghosts are just impressions of people left on earth. They don't have a Purpose. They are usually friendly, but sometimes, they have been known to turn quite nasty. In any case, one must not provoke them.
Ghosts can reappear at will. They can come if Called. But fairies? They don't come. They stay. When their Purpose is fulfilled, they go away and no amount of Calling ever does any good.

What Niva saw were definitely fairies.

The first one she had noticed had been a little girl. Niva had caught her petting a stray cat on the road. She was just a haze, like a localized fog, but with a definite shape. Little Girl was years ago. One day, the cat had disappeared and Niva never saw her again. Sometimes she wondered if Little Girl and her cat were in heaven.

Her next fairy sighting was an old man. He had turned up in Niva's own house and she had seen him sitting on the sofa, looking at her father. Perhaps he was the Great-Uncle about whose demise they had learnt through that late night STD call. The one her father had dearly loved. He had even flown over to attend his funeral the very next day.
She could have sworn it was Great Uncle wh had cured her father's cancer. He was never in pain when he was near him.

But the day the doctors had said her father was completely cured, Great-Uncle had gone away.

The more fairies Niva saw, the more she began to notice them. They were all around her, quitely working through their Purpose. When their work was done, they went away. They didn't talk to her, but some of them noticed her. A wave here, a look in her direction there.
Their People could feel their presence most of the time. How it was expressed in each was different. You could feel calm in their presence, seem more focused or feel your anger dissipate at their touch.

Over the years, Niva saw a whole lot of them. Once in a while, she would help their People through actions like picking up her neighbour's post, helping the old man next door cross the street, buying her maid's daughter storybooks, befriending the lonely boy a floor above her, feeding the mongrel warm milk in the winters, even teaching her maid to read. The fairies liked her for it and once in a while, did something for her too. The fairytales talk of fairies granting us wishes - actually what happens is that we just earn ourselves a favour from them. Everytime you help a fairy in his or her Purpose, you get "a wish granted". Even those who cannot see fairies. It is simple - You must do something in order to get something.

One night, Niva saw a fairy woman in her room. That was the first time one had been inside her room. She was semi-there. Half fairy, half nothing. Perhaps it was a fairy that had come to say goodbye before going and had started her journey already? Niva smiled at her and brought out her books. She still had three hours of solid studying to do. Tests were coming and she hoped to do well.

The fairy was still there when she finally went to sleep.

Next morning, her father woke her up at 5 o'clock. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked distraught.
"Your mother," he said. "She died in her sleep."
Niva looked around. The dairy was still there, stronger than before.
"Baba, you know, she is going to be there with us through everything we do. We just need to look out for her."

Niva could have sworn the fairy smiled at her.

Off FB!

2009-07-07T13:30:00.002+05:30

I'm outta FB.

That's the second cutting-off-from-world action in a month after losing my phone and not bothering to get a new one. Withdrawal symptoms of technology overuse? Who knows. What I do know is that instead of making me feel more "connected" (talking of which, having you seen the show on MTV by the same name? India's first "twin game show". Snort. Reality check Producers, nobody's interested. Except perhaps the immediate family of the participants.), I'd feel even more insecure and lonely. I got the UnSMSed Syndrome if someone wasn't perpetually messaging me. Plus the phone earphones were making me deaf. The minimum volume was a tad too high.

Facebook on the other hand, well, any fewer than 10 Notifications everytime I log on would give me the UnNotified Syndrome. Plus when you run out of things to do, you start playing inane Flash games that are super-addictive.

So now I can blog more frequently. And shall. More time to read the newspapers too.

And listen to old songs. There's a familiarity with old things that make you feel safe when sudden changes become upsetting. I don't mean 3-decades-back old though, just songs-I've-grown-up-listening-to old. So there's Sum 41, Avril Lavigne, Hoobastank, Creed and some A. R. Rahman songs back on my playlist. Khoon Chala from RDB is especially nice when heard over and over again on an infinite loop.

An Ode To A Best Friend

2009-07-05T00:25:00.002+05:30

My Bestest Best Friend wrote me a poem cuz I wrote her one. Now, mine is a wee bit sucky. So you just have to make do with hers. Which is awesome. Here:

Re: An Ode To A Best Friend

I'm not sure when it started,
but i hope it never ends.
It must have been auspicious,
the day we became friends.

I wouldn't care to remember it anyway,
i'd rather remember your smile,
the gleeful way in which you attacked Adi
with the broken tile.*

How, together, for the world,
we made up our own new names
how for the carnival, together,
we invented all sorts of freaky games.

The millions of senseless plans and things
that we thankfully didn't do,
(like putting the hairy man in the bin¤
and locking jangu in the loo.)

The endless amount of parental money
that was spent just on phone calls;
talking about useless shite to deep things
to how i wish our bf had balls.

How we'd so easily pour our heart out,
without hesitation, with complete trust...
About our littlest hopes and deepest fears and how with them,
we will too one day turn to dust.

About the stupidest morons and the cutest guys
from the smallest pains to the longest tear
¤¤
my tales of ripped hearts and shattered dreams
thus always found an attentive ear.

With little soft words and gentle warm hugs,
long, doting letters and a loving touch,
you were there to heal my wounds,
thus i always had an arm to clutch.

My moments of complete madness
thus always found someone to play along,
my absolutely ridiculous lies
thus were never proved wrong.

You were always there by my side,
ready to support and understand,
not a preacher or a time-pass pal
more like a bear of a first class brand.**

We love each other for each other
and not for what we could be;
for every ounce of madness, boldness,
openness, niceness, bluntness and imbecility.

The more time we spent together,
the more Real*** we became;
We changed together in a million ways
and yet we remained the same.

I better stop writing, as for you,
i can write till i am dead;
and yet have a lot
that i haven't as yet said.

Like thanks for the cookies you baked
(before i left for france)
for the earrings and candles and weird craft stuff
and for the poems and the waltz-like dance.****

So thank thou for all those things
that i've previously left unsaid,
thank you for being there for me
in the little life that i've led.

Saying 'thanks' is pretty moronic
and i think you know that too
so just remember that if you need something
i'll always be there for you. :)

(P.S. Don't tell RA about our little affair
or i'm afraid he'll have a fit,
meet you tomorrow at the regular place... :)
Oh, wait, he'll read this. Shit.)

¤ LPHAC :)
¤¤ the tear here doesn't mean 'aasu'. it is in reference to 'torn hearts' etc.
* 10th, remember?
** monty-chan!!!
*** Yes, the repeatedly mentioned passage is mentioned yet again. Haw.
**** 8th. You might have forgotten.

2009-06-27T22:29:00.002+05:30

My grandmother was telling us some stories about her life. War-time tales, pre-Independence stories, even one about the Partition riots. And then she came to another one:

"... and that boy, he didn't eat or go to school for 2 whole days. Eventually, his father noticed and asked his mother. The boy says he won't eat or go to school if he's not married to the new sub-judge's daughter. He tried to make him see sense. 'What if I did go and he throws me out of his house? Thought about that? How shameful it will be?' But the boy said he didn't care and the father had to go to talk to the sub-judge. It turned out that the boy had seen his daughter play, all of 10 years old, in his garden while going to school. The sub-judge did marry them off though. And that boy grew up to become a judge in the Allahabad High Court."
"What? Wait, she married at TEN?"
"So? In those days, and this is 7 generations before you, little girls of 6-7 years were married off. There have been so many cases where an old man of 70, a dying old man, got married to a girl of just 8."
"What? WHY?"
"Why, you ask? Well, if that's the case, why did they burn living girls to death? Heard about that?"
"Yeah. But ... can't they marry them to someone else? The parents ..."
"The parents were the ones marrying them off. What could they do? If you had unmarried girls of 16 at home - you know dhobis? They'd refuse to wash your clothes, servants would refuse to work- "
"No, why didn't the parents refuse?"
"Because that's why. If they found no one else, they'd settle for old men."
"But they - you said they were dying."
"Yes. And after that, the little girls would just become widows without nothing but this one white sari to wear- "
"Yes, I know, I know. But the parents are practically pushing their daughters there."
"In those days, the girls didn't matter. No one cared about their education. The good stuff at home, it would be given to the boys. And this is nothing, the demand for brahmins was so high, some of them had a few hundred wives and lived ONLY off what they got in dowry. The wives all stayed in their fathers' houses and the son-in-law would visit sometimes."
"o.O"
"And in dire circumstances, if there was nothing else, girls would be married to TREES. A necklace around the trunk and there you go. 'Atleast the girl has married', they'd say. In our days, it wasn't so bad. Yes, the girls dropped out of school after class 6 but ..."

o.O
Hands up everyone who thinks marrying a dying man, old enough to be your grandfather, is the height of cool. Oh and so is being burnt to death soon after their demise...