The PM's aureole

Blogging after a long time. This is more of a product of boredom than an expression of some deep thought or emotion. Not that I have any shortage of thoughts or emotions these days. Most of my time is being passed in depression. I am not quite sure as to the cause of that depression. Loneliness might be one contributing factor. I am definitely living the worst days of my life.

I find smart girls incredibly sexy. I just don't know why. A girl with brains turns me on. Some look at their legs, some gawk at their behinds, some fancy their boobs but none of these will do for me. If you have brains baby, you are getting banged. Atleast in my fantasies. Boy I'm gross.

The PM's aureole (Perverts please do not confuse with areolas). The asshole tells me that its mandatory for us to come for work on Saturday. And he doesn't fucking turn up. I had to walk 4 kms on Saturday for that dipshit. After he dies, he's definitely not getting an aureole.

Of Rules....

I went out on my dad's bike the other day. I returned home safely. It was the greatest achievement of my life till date; staying alive. 4 years of my dad's driving made it the hardest machine ever to be handled.

The thing I admire the most about it is its determination to live by its own rules. Yes, I am talking about the bike. It has its own rules.

Rule No.1

If you try to ride the bike below the speed of 20, the engine will switch off. It wouldn't go below 20. Doesn't matter if your holding the clutch or raising the accelerator. Slow down the bike for taking a turn; the engine will switch off. Slow down the bike near a speedbraker; the engine will switch off. Imagine riding that bike in full city traffic when the traffic is moving at snail's pace. You've just imagined hell.

Rule No. 2

If you try to ride the bike above the speed of 60, it wouldn't go. I raised the speed of the bike to 59 kmph and then when I raised it a bit, it roared back at me and continued travelling at the same pace. It just loves obeying the traffic rules!

Rule No. 3

The thing will remind the driver of its worth by constantly producing a noise from the rear part. Every time you go over a speedbreaker, all the parts at the back of the bike including the rearlight, indicators, the side plastic covering under the seat etc. will vibrate violently as if informing you about how lucky you are to be riding such a coveted vehicle.

My dad took the thing to a service center the other day. The guy at the service center informed us that making all repairs to the bike would cost around 10000 Rs. Selling the bike would produce about 10000 Rs. Considering that we bought the bike at 60000, those are great returns indeed!

Some Creativity

This is a blog I wrote for a blog writing competition held in my college a few months back. The topic was"the spice in chats"

A conversation:

Swetha: Hi

Me: Hello

Swetha: What are you doing?

Me: Thinking.

Swetha: About what?

Me: There is this event I am participating in where I have to write a blog.

Swetha: About what?

Me: The topic is “the spice in chat”.

Swetha: Hmm.. do you like chat?

Me: I love to chat.

Swetha: Not chat. You love to rattle on and on about insignificant things and annoy the hell out of me.

Me: Of course, I love that too.

Swetha: What’s the deal about this event anyway?

Me: It’s being conducted by CRAC.

Swetha: What’s big about them?

Me: The chicks are hot.

Swetha: I am jealous.

Me: Don’t be.

Swetha: Do you have any ideas?

Me: None as of now.. give me a few.

Swetha: You are the BITsian. You are supposed to be smart.

Me: I am never smart enough around you. Maybe I can have you if I try hard enough.

Swetha: Stop imagining things. Why don’t you do something real for a change?

Me: What is “real”? How do you define “real”? If you’re talking about what you can feel,

what you can smell, taste and see, then “real” is simply electrical signals interpreted by your brain.

Swetha: A dialogue from “The Matrix” huh.. can’t you think of anything original? No wonder you are not able to come up with ideas.

Me: Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t I post this conversation as a blog for the competition.

Swetha: That’s a good idea.

Me: But I guess it would be rather unfair to others.

Swetha: How so?

Me: I’m taking your help in this. It’s supposed to be a solo competition.

Swetha: It is not unfair. This is your idea. Besides, I do not exist. I am just a part of your subconsciousness.

Me: Part of my subconsciousness huh.. can I strip you?

Swetha: Shut up pervert.

Me: Hahaha.. this is weird. I am imagining things. Maybe it’s just plain paranoia.

Swetha: You are not paranoid. Just stupid. There is nothing crazy in imagining things.

Me: Yeah.. But why would I imagine you as a girl?

Swetha: I don’t know.. Maybe this is what 4 years of BITSian life does to a guy.

Me: You’re right. I have crossed my word limit. I should probably stop. Will talk to you later.. Bye

Swetha: Yeah. Take care. Bye.

Of Saying Goodbye...

I am writing this post as I am packing my bags to leave my campus and head home for probably the last time. One final time I would like to think about what has gone by these four years.

When I first came here, I was this quiet introvert guy who was too scared to go outside and explore new possibilities. I kept to myself and sought companionship among those among whom I felt comfortable. Needless to say, I never quite managed to find my place. I was torn between the 2 sides of the bogs. It was the division that has existed since probably the beginning of BITS itself.

My first year ended with me having finally got used to the idea of being a BITSian. My life in the second year was as out of place as in the first year. I was among my own.. but i was still lost somewhere. It was in my third year that I finally found home. These last two years have been memorable to me. Thanks to the handful of guys who were my wingies.. I have enjoyed my life to the fullest these past few months.

I give my heart full best to these guys.. go rock the world

From today.. I am a Fucking Engineer

Time to change India

with that note

Goodbye

Of Purpose...

People draw inspirations form the silliest things. I draw inspirations from movies. There is this one dialogue that I am reminded of that has often got me thinking. Movie: Matrix Reloded. Scene: Neo and Smith are having an exchange before the fight scene.

Agent Smith: We're not here becouse we are free, we are here becouse we are not free.

There is no escaping reason, no denying purpose, becouse as we both know that without purpose, we will not exist.

It is purpose that created us, purpose that connects us, purpose that pulls us, that guides us, that drives us.

It is purpose that defines us, purpose that binds us.

Were here becouse of you Mr. Anderson. We're here to take from you what you tried to take from us: Purpose.

The other day, I was thinking about the reasons why we fail in so many things we do. It is not becouse we lack conviction. I feel that we fail becouse we do not have a clear idea of our ultimate goal. Our purpose.

At this point one can ask you what a goal is. We sometimes think that scoring well in an exam or completing a project within a deadline is a goal. That is not what a goal should be. These are but just means to achieve an end. Our goal in life should be to achieve something or to be a better person. When the end is clear, the means become so much simpler. Working hard without a goal in life is just a waste of time and energy. For all those misguided/lost people like me out there, we should devote our energies to finding a purpose in our life rather than working hard for something we don't really care about.

Kashmir: The three sides

What India Thinks:

For India, Kashmir represents a crown on its head. The majestic mountains of Kashmir gives India the image of a beautiful country. It has always been a part of India and the prospect of a Kashmiri state is not acceptable for India. Its a shame India does not care as much about the Kashmiri people as it does for the land.

What Pakistan thinks:

For Pakistan, kashmir represents a part of themselves that was snatched away by unfair means. This caused widespread resentment since then and has been the main reason for the three wars that have been fought between the two countries. 60 years after independence, Pakisthan still tries to exert its influence on Kasmir. The fact that Pakistan cares about the people of Kashmir is agian really questionable.

What Kashmir thinks:

Kashmir has been a part of India for over 60 years and has since come to accept its position in India. The sheer number of army personnel deployed in Kashmir even in times of peace shows how important Kashmir is to India. But still the fact remains that the people of Kashmir have more in common with Pakisthan than they have with India. A single 2 lane road connects Kashmir to the rest of India. There isn't even a proper railway track between Jammu and Srinagar. The people of Kashmir have many relations across the border and want to maintain the relations. To them, India and Pakistan are the same. Considering the obsessive hatred of Pakistan by the rest of India, such attitude should be considered noteworthy.

Kashmiris believe they are a part of both India and Pakistan and there is not much sense in the fight over Kashmir. They live very simple lives. The men don't have much choice in profession. Most men join the tourism industry by serving either in boats or driving cabs or other such services. Others join BSF and the local police. There are not many notable educational institutions in Kashmir and most students leave the place to pursue higher education. People survive mostly on tourism here. Violence in Kashmir is the last thing people of Kashmir want. As such there is no endorsment of the state sponsored infiltration from Pakisthan in Kashmir. Violence in Kashmir spills the blood of Kashmiri people. It defeats the very purpose of infiltration attempts by Pakisthan. All that the people of Kasmir want is peaceful dialogue between the nations so that they can maintain their relations. Given the continued instability in Governance in Pakisthan and stubborn Indian attitude towards the issue, I doubt it if the people of Kasmir will be happy anytime soon.

Dogged

Look at them. Who would think something so pretty and innocent on the outside would be filled with hatred and malcontent inside. What did I ever do to them? In this life or the past life? The answer eludes me. Why choose this fateful day, it being a holiday, to extract revenge from me. And the time at which they choose to strike me! 5.30. 5 fucking 30. Who chooses to take revenge at 5.30 in the morning? Maybe it had something to do with what they were to do to me.

Every plan has a flaw. I have believed this fact with all my might all my life. Imagine my mindboggling, mindnumbing, mindbashing, mindthrashing, mindexploding shock when I realised that their plan had no flaws. What a plan! Even god's plan to create this universe was not so perfect. If there was a flaw, the limited one hundred billion neurons in my brain could not discover it. "The most destructive things in life are the most simple" how many times have I heard this. I could never understand it. Now I understand. 'Yelp and Run’. It was this simple. The most destructive, the most effective, the plan to surpass god's own plan of the universe, was this simple. There is only so much a man can do.

What was I doing? I was in my bed. Sleeping. Dreaming about princess charming who would come and sweep me off my feet. Little did I know about my impending predicament. It started as a yelp. A beating in my subconscious mind that would never die down. I was forced out of my slumber into the wakefulness of twilight. By what? Yelping. I sat confused, trying to figure out what was happening to me. Why was I awake? Who was torturing me? And why? I got off my bed, fumbled in the darkness for my slippers. I switched on the light and walked outside my room.

The sight I beheld. I had never seen anything like this in my life. I thought I saw angels, only they were devils. Cute little puppies they were. Eight of them. They had destroyed my sleep. Smouldering fires of hell rose inside me. I ran after them. They ran too. All in different directions.

No team of astronauts ever did function with such perfect teamwork as these puppies displayed. They taunted me and ran. I didn't know which one to chase. I hoped to catch their leader and put an end to their struggle. Only, I could not find their leader. They did not seem to have a leader. Each one of them was a leader in their own self. A leader who led them with the single goal of torturing me to my end. It amazed me as I saw them. Despair I did. 5 minutes of chasing and I accepted defeat. They were too fast for the likes of me. I turned back, tail between my legs as I walked back to my room. Songs of victory and joy I heard them sing. I entered my room, closed the door, switched off the light, sat on my bed and started contemplating about how to commit suicide. In the end I decided that my life was not even worth ending. I was resigned to bear the torture they inflicted until they saw it fit to give me my release.

By 6.30, they had grown bored of their game. They stopped shouting and went to a corner to huddle and sleep. They must have been content, knowing they had defeated a human. I was left to gauge my life. To see what it was worth. I had been defeated by dogs. Puppies at that. They reminded me that my superior size and increased intelligence did not entitle me to rule the world. They had shown me my place. They put me out of my illusion. I am grateful to them. May this be a lessen to all of mankind. They may be dogs, but we are not their masters.

Of Life... and Relationships...

I have this theory about the relationships that people have among one other.I have tried to simplify the complex nature of relationships and group them on the basis of understanding and acceptance that people have for others. I have derived this theory after considerable soul searching, observation and extensive brain storming sessions with a few great thinkers who are my friends.

In my hypothesis, I have grouped the nature of relationships in three categories or "stages". Such a grouping is very rough and there are no clear boundaries separating them. In spite of the crudeness in the theory, I hope it will provide us an idea about what we really feel about those around us.

The "first stage" of relationships in my theory is what I call Acquaintance. This is a stage of a relationship where people formally get to know each other. When we meet at public places we wish each other or talk about general issues. We know nothing personal about the other person and the acquaintance is formed out of compulsion or chance. Since we know nothing about the person, we cannot judge the person as being good or bad etc. It is at this stage that we make the choice of whether we want to take the relationship to the next stage or to leave it as it is. Most of the times when we meet other people, we try to get to know more about them. We get to know their tastes and interests, their goals and most importantly their attitude towards life. Getting to know each other personally may help us in our dealings with that person but it also creates problems. When we get to know a person, we are inclined to like or dislike the person. It becomes difficult to stay neutral to a person if we do not like the person. People at the corporate level sometimes prefer not to personally know a person so it becomes easier to make choices concerning the person.

The choice of getting to know a person is in our hands most of the times but it may also be thrust upon us sometimes. Circumstances may force you to get to know a person whom you might otherwise keep at a distance. I feel that the first stage of relationships does not apply to family as the family we have by birth is not a choice that we make. The transition to the second stage happens rather quickly. It may happen in a matter of days or even hours.

The "second stage" of relationships can be called friendship although the term friend can be a bit misleading. In the strict sense, The second stage of relationship in my theory is the stage in which people actually get to know each other. We like people for their good qualities and find faults in their bad qualities. This is the difficult stage in a relationship where we have to bear with others shortcomings and paranoia. We find it difficult to accept thoughts which we do not agree with. We fight with people over small matters and sometimes grow apart when we cannot resolve our differences. We can move on to the third stage with only those people with whom we are compatible. This process of understanding and acceptance takes a lot of time. Sometimes even years.

The last Stage of a relationship or the "third stage" is characterized by total understanding. We see the shortcomings of others and accept them for who they are. We enjoy their company and have faith in them. This Stage of relationship may also be called love. It is extremely difficult to be in this stage with many people and we must count ourselves lucky if we have many such friends. An ideal person is he/she who can be in stage three with everyone, regardless of whether they are our enemies or friends. Needless to say, it is very difficult to be the ideal person. People who have broad minded thinking are able to accept others thoughts easily and hence find it easier to love people. Our relationships with people are a reflection of our attitude and behavior. The ideal person will be good to everybody. To be the Ideal person should be the goal of every individual in life.

Of Existence... and Achievement.....

I was lying on the bed the other day, thinking about my life.. and where it is heading. Then I started reminiscing my school days and found that I had no happy memories.

To be frank, I was a nobody at school. Most people ignored me. Those who didn't ignore me, bullied me. It wasn't that I did not have any friends. I did. But I didn't have much fun at school. People look back at their school days and relate stories about the fun they had in school. I find that I have no such stories to tell. In the long life that we live, most of the days gone by are insignificant. We remember only the days when something happy or significant happened. An achievement probably. The rest of the days are lost to the memory. My whole school life was like that. There were embarrassing instances... we cannot forget them even if we try to. Other than that, it was an insignificant phase of my life.

Subconsciously, I may have thought back then that I want to make something out of myself. Six years down the line, I look at myself and ask the question: Have I made something out of myself? Frankly, I do not know the answer...

There are different ways to approach the answer. I can look at my classmates and see what they are doing right now. One of them became an air-hostess, which is cool. Another one joined the NDA, which is cool too. One other is studying in BITS with me right now. None of the rest have done anything significant that I know of. So I say to myself.. look, I am better than most of them. Then I look at my college mates who joined this college along with me 4 years ago. I look at them now and compare them to myself. Not a pretty sight....

So what should be the answer to my question?

A Note's Life: Episode 2

DISCLAIMER

All the characters and events in this story are purely fictitious. Any resemblance to any person/animal/alien living or rotten is purely coincidental. I don't take responsibility for any such "apparent coincidences" and anyone accusing me of plagiarism shall be electrocuted.

EPISODE-2

The cashier put me along with my brothers into the drawer. This was where I first met others of my kind. There were notes of all ages here. Some newborn like me and others almost 10 years old. A lifetime of 10 years is considered "over the hill" amongst us. Notes rarely live that long.

Before I could socialize with any of the notes present there, the cashier took me and my four brothers out and handed me out as change to a customer. The human took us and stuffed us in his wallet. Then he collected his purchase and ambled out towards the parking.

I will take some time to describe this man. This was a man with money. I could tell that from the posh Škoda that he rode. This was a man with talent at charm. I could tell that from the foxy women he rode. This was a man with power. I could tell that from the looks on the faces of the employees whom he rode. Perhaps the only thing that the man lacked in life was peace. He was a workaholic. There was no time for rest or relaxation in his life. I failed to understand what drove him.

Poor men are driven to work by hunger. Middle class men are driven to work by the perennially overbearing concern over their families future. But what drives rich men? Men like these have all the luxuries they can hope for in life. Why do they still fight? Is it for satisfying the greed to have more money than ever before? Is it for experiencing the momentary high of achievement? Do these men and women strive to improve the lives of those around them? Or do they just work because they have nothing better to do?

Whichever the case may be, money is a huge factor in the lives of men. Small and insignificant though I was, it felt good to know that I held power over men. To be ruled by things they created, humans on earth are such big losers!

Coming back to the man in question, he didn't keep me with him for long. He exchanged me for a pack of cigarettes the very next day. Thus came to pass the first month of my life. What happened next is part of the next episode.