boredom

So what did you, my friendly blog reader, expect this time when you opened my webpage? The fact of the matter is that I’ve been intellectually bankrupt for quite a while now. This can be attributed to a copius amount of television, excessive amounts of lost, prison break and the random movie. All in all, today i have nothing to say to you fair reader. However, this being the 13th time I’ve opened this page without producing anything concrete, I, as the best of us would, am getting fairly worried about me and my writing skills. Pray for a moment for me getting off the computer ( snorting the www if you must :) ) .

In other news, i got hold of the entire album of RHCP (stadium arcadium). Its pretty good, worth a listen on one of those trains running between churchgate and bandra, hanging at the door at the time of the day when its just about to rain but it isn’t. Awesome.

A bit of help on certain fronts shall be appreciated too, what do you do to cheer yourself up when you aren’t feeling very bright about yourself? I mean something permanent…Leave this one in the comments please.

Oh and as most of you know, I leave for Delhi tomorrow, 10 days off should be good for my eyes right? And i really like train journies. And i don’t like people who remind me how hot delhi will be. Seriously, people live there.

I guess thats all. Cya’ll in a while.

umm…an update?

Sorry I haven’t posted in a while. I can’t feign the old being busy excuse, nor writers block, but I’ve read some excellent blog posts, check them out…..

Masks

 

 

I think this fairly counts as a blog update from the jobless one. How it made it to the school magazine, The Tartan, still amuses me. Notice the picture is ancient, thus the previous post is clearly non fictional. 

Girls are hereby forbidden from asking the question ”So really, what went wrong?” on looking at any childhood photographs of mine.

For the more observant amongst you, the poem above mine seems to be a line from the Nirvana Song, Smells like teen spirit. This guy wrote the exact same lyrics, only changing Teen to Team, and made it to the magazine. Ah well..

I’m off, a sinful combination of  honey and vanilla ice cream awaits me.

 

Elvis

I have this penchant for surprises, I just love giving them and receiving them, so thanks for a great birthday surprise people! (I shan’t try to write about it, for those who were there, just remember my face when I opened the door)

The first time I wrote something serious (or even seriously) was in class 9. It was a poem on the fear of something or the other (one of those things where you rhyme just the last word and still manage to make no sense /sound mushy).This particular poem was written because our grammar teacher insisted we write something and I had spent the entire period laughing at the sardar in front of me (Santa Banta jokes are underrated…even MS word recognizes Santa and Banta as words!) and looking at trees outside the class. (yes I do that for some odd reason, a certain history teacher felt it was because I was George of the jungle in my previous life, I just smiled back at her, for which the what-her-name-is threw me out to join my green buddies) In the last 5 minutes of the class I wrote whatever I did, which ultimately made it to the school magazine. The editor of this particular tome found it necessary that I give a picture of mine, in school uniforms mind you, which could be printed along with my name, which was a morale boosting exercise carried out for all the wonderful literary artists produced and eventually destroyed by our schools passion for the sciences.

So I was fairly excited about the whole thing. Youthful enthusiasm and all that as they say. Instead of looking around my house for one, I decided a trip to the nearest photo shop was in order, you know, to keep it as a surprise for my mother dearest when she saw her sons photo was published in one of those magazine type things, albeit not in the prizes section where the more intellectual type (including my sister…..) made it.

Now for the brighter amongst you, this figures as a fun thing to do, as long as the parents are rather blissfully unaware of it. However it turned out that passport photos were beyond my economic status back then, at 70 bucks for 10 passport sized pictures (instant et al). So on this particularly rainy day, I made my way back home from the neighbourhood camera man with my windcheater on and a tie in my pocket. On telling mother dearest that her son was amongst the Wodehouse and Frosts of his school, she was happy, to put it mildly. So she took me to the same place again, this time with a willingness to shell up. Of course proficiency in grammar is appreciated as long as you study the sciences…don’t get me started.

Have you ever been inside one of those photo studios where the walls are covered with odd wallpapers of the lakes of
Kashmir in a background of a valley full of flowers? It makes you feel like you are one of tellytubbies for some odd reason. I fail to understand the purpose of such extravagant backgrounds. But it exists, as do appendix’ in humans and judges on reality shows, with no purpose that serves for greater good, but never to be questioned.

At about the same time of the year, I don’t know if it was the weather or something else, I had discovered a peculiar talent in me. I had the ability to do Elvis Half lip smile. Back then life was simpler, I had decided that education would be given up by age 17, when I would take up a job as an Elvis impersonator, or if nothing else say “Welcome to Walmart” 200 times an hour with the smile on my face, indicating scorn.

Thus sat one of the brighter minds in the country, and decided the time had come to tell everyone watching, Elvis was in the building!

The photographer, an unusually jolly chap decided somehow, that the Elvis smile was a mistake. He asked me to pose for another picture. I was never amongst the patient type, and demanded to see the picture on his digital camera. I took a moment to explain to the simple man, there was no real mistake there; it was just me, aiming for greatness. He just muttered something about the loons he got everyday and got the damned thing developed.

In the mean time, my dearest mother sat in the car, in anticipation of yet another picture she could show to the police when I ran away from home (it’s an eventuality, so she keeps records of pictures, age 7 to 18). When yours truly walked down the steps of fortune, in anticipation of laurels etc, he thought something was amiss. Then he realized, he needed to give the Elvis to the world while walking down to make it really memorial.

“One half smile for man, one giant leap for mankind”

If nothing else, it was still a surprise for her….

“What on EARTH were you thinking?” she screamed, “Do you realize this is a formal photograph? This isn’t funny. I find this incredible, how could you do such a thing? Do you realize how much those pictures cost? And it’s not about the money; I can’t believe this, is this what we have taught you both?”

It didn’t end there of course, but I’m pretty certain that explains a great deal of what my mother dearest had told me across the two hours I was lectured followed by 3 days of the silent treatment.

Middle Age : Its when broadness of mind and narrowness of waistline interchange places.

Thus died my ambition of working at Las Vegas. Also with eventual balding, I really don’t think Elvis impersonation is the best career line for me. The author also decided against writing for any scientific journals et al for fear of a similar backlash. His mother now accompanies him to all photo shoots. The snaps of course were confiscated and I was asked to procure them an evening before by mixing film with silver iodide or some such thing. For the magazine, I ended up cutting an old ID card from class 5 or something and telling the editor “I grew overnight” when questioned about the age of the photograph. She promised me carbon dating would clear that out, so I just shrugged and left.

I promise I’ll put up a snap of the article once I get hold of the magazine. And I still can’t find those wonderful photos from the glorified photo shoot.

Oh and the previous post was just to gauge reactions and of course, it is very much fictional. It’ll take a lot more birthdays to make me one of them. The comments I received outside the comments box were a lot more entertaining. Certain seniors insisted they even knew who it was, while I insisted they need to concentrate on certain juniors instead of reading fictional shit on random people’s blogs.

No one calls me an entertaining b*****d and gets away with it.

So i’m finally growing up…a bit

It was a dark and stormy night…

Okay I’m just kidding…

Your hands holding mine, I looked outside the wet window, watching the rain pouring down on a beautiful monsoon morning. I close my eyes and memories rush back to me, taking me on a trip, with you by my side, we go through all those wonderful times of the past few years. I smile silently and you press my hand, which somehow still gives me those adrenaline rushes. Those walks through the crowded markets, with enough noise to drown out a plane, but I don’t hear any of it other than your soft voice. Those long promenade walks which never felt like exercise normally does (a pain in the you-know-where). The crowded first class compartments, the double decker rides, the silent conversations over lunch, albeit a packet of maggi noodles. The long, understanding conversations without saying a word at times, carried out simply through touch or a even simple smile across a large room. The black umbrellas and windcheaters facing winds and rains of Mumbai with poor resistance, not that we cared much anyways.

Carefree and lost in time….

“Now the time has come to leave you
One more time, oh, let me kiss you
And close your eyes and I’ll be on my way



Dream about the days to come
When I won’t have to leave alone
About the times that I won’t have to say …



Oh, kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you’ll wait for me
Hold me like you’ll never let me go”

 

From Chantal Kreviazuk – “Leaving On A Jet Plane

Gloating. the right way.

r: i must rub it in….exams over!!!!!

n: go rub ur tongue against a porcupine!!!!!! :@@@@@@@@@@           (anger)

r: hahaha…that doesn’t change the facts! two months of holidays!!!

n: ill get 2 months too u know… (         (sadness)

r: but not starting now

n: so????? when ur coll starts again ill still hav vacations!!             (hope)

r: yeah well, i gloat now, you gloat then

n: ya so it doesnt affect me!! lol hmph!!                           (bubble)

r: ha! sure it doesn’t affect you

n: of course it doesnt!! i love slaving over my books for hours on end…!!! its a damn awesome thing to do!                  (bubble bursts with a *pop*)

r: now i’m thoroughly enjoying this this feels awesome….phreedumb!

n: ur a sadistic asshole u know that?!??! lol              (acceptance)

r: haha, stop, i’ll explode if i laugh any more
oh and did i mention, i’m passing for sure..yussiirr….first year OVER!

n: grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

(an uncanny impression of a wild jungle cat, never a good sign)

the rest of the conversation is found to be detrimental towards the authors ego. it contains various references to the authors family and college which he would not like to share even with his penchant for free speech etc. 

(n by the way is in Mumbai University, whose holidays begin in june)

All those who think i am a sadistic troll or more feel free to leave a comment. The rest don’t bother. I’m missing critics these days…..

 

My random searches across the internet for topics related not even remotely close to Engineering Physics 2, the exam of which i have on Wednesday, led me to this. I thought i should listen to my monitor and mouse after all…Cya in a while

Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa

Mumbai, March 13, 2023

It all began with a simple question-answer session in Marathi. What is your name and age? What is your father’s name? What is your residential address?

 

Having answered all three questions to the satisfaction of Sewree special judge G.S. Saran, Maharashtra Chief Minister Amogh GS Sanzgiri was the first one to be formally served the chargesheet in the disproportionate assets case here today.

The Chief Minister signed the chargesheet before the judge and pleaded not guilty in the case.

With today’s brief hearing, where GS was represented by over one dozen lawyers, including Arun Jaitley and Kapil Sibal, cutting across party lines, the stage is now set for further hearing in the cases under the Prevention of Corruption Act against them.

On April 9 and 10, the prosecution will present its witnesses in court for recording their evidence.

It may be recalled that on March 9, judge Saran ordered framing of charges under various Sections of the Prevention of Corruption Act and Section 120B of the Indian Penal Code against GS.

Since GS was not present in court that day, he had been asked to be present today for framing of charges.

He, however, added that they would honour all judicial orders and verdicts, as they have full faith and respect for the court. Rejecting the demand for his resignation after the framing of charges, he asserted that “legally and morally” there was no ground for his resignation. All political parties from
Maharashtra were found to be supporting him on his stance.

The courthouse was packed with the GS’ supporters who were shouting slogans in his support.

The Chief Minister, often worshiped in the state as the all knowing GS has come under the scanner for poll capturing, murder, kidnapping and other glorified activities. He is more popularly known as 32 GS, with 32 being the number of adjectives starting with G his friends have managed to find and remember to date.

In a related news article

 March 13, 2025

Bharat Ratna Acclaimed Blogger found dead in front of computer

Raghav Ohri, an acclaimed blogger brought to fame by his awesome blog (www.acanofworms.wordpress.com) was found dead in front of his computer on Monday morning. The words “Amogh GS Sanzgiriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii” were typed on screen, since the letter ‘i’ was where his nose landed on being shot in the head. The police say they are still investigating the case, but sources tell TOI that his blogging may have ruffled a few feathers with one of his posts back in the year 2007 (when he was good, but then he got even better). One of his posts hit a bad chord with his fellow student (of the Civil Engineering branch at the prestigious VJTI, where ofcourse the great Raghav did Mechanical Engineering) turned politician Amogh GS Sanzgiri, who it is said might have something to do with it. The police however are investigating the case. The investigating officer for the case gave a statement “We mourn the loss of such a great blogger, who enlightened the path for so many of his readers, including me. I promise you that I shall not rest till I shall find his killer”. However when informed that some evidence pointed towards the chief minister GS, the officer wet his pants and insisted on calling off the conference and saying all he said was ‘off the record’. But it wasn’t if you beleived in free speech the way the great Raghav did. Amogh GS Sanzgiri was unavailable for comments since he was enjoying his two year stint at Arthur Road Jail.

The importance of being idle

Manan Shah never gave a damn

so he went to Kashmir just before the exams

in the white hilly slopes of Kashmire (led zeppelin style )

he played in snow, oblivious to his need

to complete journals, CP, Mechanics and BME,

rather than throwing snowballs like a child of yore

after all he is doing engineering, a branch so core,

journals, vivas and assignments he left behind

time to complete such things he just can’t find

*hums along*

Don’t we all love it when we’ve done a lot more work than others? Or rather, when others have done a lot less work than you? Introducing Manan Shah, who went for a holiday 4 weeks before his second semester exams. When he came back he was oblivious to all that he had missed and his first question was “Want to go play basketball?” . After this he has been thrown out of a few lectures, bunked a lot of others and told ‘Ha’Ramkumar that he had gone for a ‘family function’ and thus couldn’t complete his homework. Ofcourse he brought back this cool mp4 player from China (I don’t see how that comes into the picture, but then again I would need 25 hours a day to follow Manan’s itenary) which can do oodles of stuff for 2000 bucks. We’re planning to set up a shop for him in the vacations, keeping hope for results it seemed to us is rather futile…aah…finally after a whole semester, a bakra

In other Oh-so-important-news-of-my-world, i attended Nirop, the farewell for our graduating batch, the alumni GS, who has shown few signs of intellegence so far (and yet they all manage their wonderful 8 pointers…) showed a bright spark at the right time. By an opinion poll, we had chosed the best babes in every class (I think the IT class babe was a guy) , and this chap calls them all on stage, and makes them rampwalk. For a change i was actually around when there were girls in VJTI. I was actually under the impression that he would be calling all categories (such as kitaabi keeda etc) , but once he made them walk up and down the stage to ’shiny disco balls (i think) a couple of times, the dog continued with the normal function as if nothing had happend at all. Sheer brilliance! You have my respect Rf.. (quoting him ”I Didn’t know our college had so many girls re!”)

“Be the change you want to see in the world.”

Today during Basic Mechanical Engineering journal checking time, our professor, Mr Patil wanted an honest evaluation of the course. While we all appreciated all the work he has done, it was the least that could be said about the rest of our professors. When we all broke out in a chorus of protest against the terrible faculty we were given in what was supposed to be one of the best colleges in the state. While never denying this problem, he asked if we had any other problems. When we replied that this was our bitch, he said to us, “Let me ask you, How many of you will ever become a professor in this college?”

Not a single person raised their hand.

This is why we need to appreciate the go-getters, Dhruv Mehta writes letters to the director while the whole batch mock-supports his efforts. We all tend to complain so much about the state of affairs around us. We complain about being misfits in our own college, about the bus service being inefficient, about college, girls, home problems, journal work, assignments..absolutely anything. How often is it that we actually do something to improve our situation? Mostly we silently accept, and ignore, forget,  Perhaps more importantly, how often is it that we pass away our real issues, something we really stand for, along with our whines, ignoring them.

Why is it that great men are far and few in between? Since when have we become slaves to routine? Why do we allow great ideas in our mind to be crushed by the rote system we pass off as education in our country, starting in high school, going right up till graduation? When did we start accepting mediocrity? And why? For those great marks which shall get us admission into another, perhaps better institute, from where we will get our excellent paying jobs? When you were a child did you ever dream of becoming a financial planner? A code banger? A cog in the massive corporate machinery? Owning your own cubicle? Or perhaps your own cabin with its smooth colin cleaned glass walls?

 Why do we constantly blame politicians for stealing money from our country? Why don’t we stand for elections if we feel so strongly about it? When was the last time you felt strongly about something?  History will remember us as the generation who passed away immortality for the shackles of mediocrity. The ones whose views on TV channel snap SMS opinion polls never showed in their real lives.

Words finally fail me..

Feel free to answer any of the questions asked above in the comments section.