Monday, September 26, 2005
So? Whats so special about just another picture of Sania Mirza. Actually nothing, that's just a base image for the real point of this post.
Wondering what would happen if she would change her clothes after trying to avoid the stupid fatwa that was almost declared against her...
The image was made with a composite of four bhurkas and the paintbrush in photoshop.
Here is a pic of the two versions side by side.
Cheers, and my next blog will be on the eighth... after the exams. Damn, I have a lot to study. There is this feminist moment I have to study, and there was this huge debate on how the newspapers were sexist when it came to Sania Mirza. Someone argued that the papers did not give her coverage on the day she lost, which meant that the paper was protecting her, and in fact not being sexist. Another friend argued back that this was exactly what sexist meant, the paper wanted to protect her because she was a girl, and it was not treating her as just another sportsperson.
shit I got carried away. I can blog for ever, if only it weren't for parents. i will try to make a career out of blogging... good fantasy. Anyway, I really have to go study now...
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
Basically huge day today, spent somewhat productively by taking down question papers and studying for the loomin tests. I don't think I will blog much for another two weeks because while not being shit scared of the tests, I want to at least pretend I have studied.
Sunday, September 18, 2005
So plunging right into the subject, as my friend from med school keeps doing, more fun with the year system. The effect of all that blah is that the third year, can be of a year, of two or of four, depending on your convenience. This line should have been in yesterday’s post but what the hell. Yesterday’s post should also contain the fact that the internal skin was called Fascia, and that Neeraj’s pet name is partner because he is a partner in all the crimes, but never gets caught.
Anyway, today’s post will contain (a) frog dissection (apparently they do not have enough human bodies after all) and (b) fainting girl.
Frog dissection was shoved into med school and removed from the syllabus of Junior college because of Maneka Gandhi. Although the frogs, being lower organisms, have a pretty basic nervous system, so they feel no pain if you plunge a scalpel down their neck and twist it around to kill them.
But this is the totally pussy way of killing frogs before you dissect them.
The real way to do it, is to grab them by the legs and smash their craniums against the table.
Flashback to the year 2001. I was in eighth standard (damn hasn’t time flown by) and I helped him out in his project by catching a frog for him. Ever tried killing a frog? It is actually impossible. We were stabbing it left right and centre and its stupid legs refuse to try running away. Eventually, we just put it in the freezer.
I hope Maneka Gandhi does not frequent this blog.
So there is this girl in first first who should have been in first second but failed because of a nervous problem. Apparently, she faints when she gets anxious. So she faints, then faints because she fainted and could not study, and then faints because she is hideously ill.
My friend believes she will continue to be in first first because she continues to suddenly fall in and around the campus. She fainted in the middle of opening up a body, and it was just too sudden without any indication…
So she was in the hospital, and friends had gone over... for whatever friends go over to sick friends in hospital for. Although I do it to make fun and try to steal an occasional kidney, others are more considerate towards their friends.
So they try to cheer her up by doing various things, one of them involve my friend dancing. He is a rotten dancer, (so they make fun of each other I guess, med school is weird). He started doing what he knew of dandia.
Yeah of course you guessed it, she fainted.
For a good TWO HOURS.
There are too many cadaver stories to relate, but basically, full of formalin, and bodies hanging about all over the place, where they do weird things on the first few days with the cadavers. Like, a pretty common dare was to grab the dead guy's genitals. The genitals are pretty withered and shriveled, so it's grosser than doing that to live people, which is also, somehow, a common trend. A lesser dare perhaps was to shake hands with dead people. Apparently, the palms, having a thicker skin than the rest of the body, dries up and flakes out, so it is a VERY disgusting thing.
Also, those who get female bodies are exteremely unlucky because of the excessfat that leaks out everywhere, and you can see basically nothing of what you are doing. body parts (mainly the skin) are taken away for weird dares, pranks and bets, that are best left unexplained. All such activities are to be kept under wraps, because if word gets out on what people actually do with dead bodies, then very few would donate themselves to the noble cause of science. For example, you would not want your dead body to be an experiment which culimnates in the fact that folded up skin lining up the insides of your shoes is likely to make your feet feel more comfortable.
I asked him if they treaded the bodies as those of actual people. He looked scared for a moment, and the next second he was relating even more gory stories. So i knw his answer. Basically, you need to be dehumanized to study medicine. That's why it is so difficult to be a good doctor.
The funny thing is the system of division of the course. We have a semester system, where each semester is for six months, and we have to live through six sems and three years in BMM. System is slightly different in Med school. For example, we have first years, second years and third years, or your FY, SY and Ty. They have things like thrid-fourth and second-first.
So they have what can loosely be termed as semesters, but aren't actually semesters, lets just say parts. So the first... first year has... three parts of six months each, although the first year is not a year. The second year, has three parts, and the third year has four. Each part is six months long, and is termed as a year. BAsically, all units are termed as years, in spite of the fact that none of them are years. So you can be in third-fourth year or the third-third year and not be a year behind your classmates, but only six months or so.
The good thing is that if you fail a year, you don't lose a year, you only lose a year.
There is also this thing known as saturday night syndrome, where the arms get temporarily paralysed. There is a long winded explanation for this. The syndrome is named after those who party on a satruday night, get drunk, sit down on a park bench with their arms over the bench \, Sitting like this for long can lead to the saturday night paralysis.
We sat down, and decided to talk for a while. He was a month into his college, and I was two. So we decided to tell one story each to each other.
He related, of course, the well heard tales of the first time you see the cadavers. Pravra. Ten people vomited, and one girl fainted (one girl keeps fainting, I’ll come back to that later.) One of the pranks they played on this guy was to cut off the skin of this cadaver, from the chest, so they got this huge square of skin Then, they placed the skin in nooks and corners of his room, like the shoes, the cupboards, and many other well chosen places. Poor guy wears the shoes for an entire day, and then finds out, and then washes his socks for an hour and a half straight.
Ameya (The friend), promised me that he will get skin for me from his next cadaver, which is hopefully not a female one because they have waaaaay too much fat. Another friend had promised she’ll get eyeballs (or at least mail them) but that never happened.
Skipping over trivial things like the chili competition, idiots who had to visit physiotherapists because they were not strong, but just stupid enough to go through a thousand plus twenty kilo dumbbell lifts, seniors who rag them by making everyone tie red ribbons or take books to school only in a bucket, or the fact that they don’t bathe for three or four days, we come to the birthday tradition that has evolved.
If I were in Medical college, I would get to write SUCH a fucking cool book. Maybe I will still go ahead and do it.
Apparently, there is this guy called Neeraj, if I remember it. Now in the middle of the night, this guy gets bored, so he grabs his roomies, and heads out into the hostel. Their plan was to knock on doors, and give the purple nurple to anyone who opens the door. If you don’t know what this is, basically you grab the nipples of the unfortunate fellow, and wrench it around as hard as you can.
There is also a medical limit to this, not because of the skin on the nipple, but because of the limited muscular movement of you hand in that position.
So they did it, and got a fair few punches. Two days after the memory was still fresh, and the nipples were still burning, this guy has a birthday. So they put cake in his ass, grab his balls, punch, kick and basically molest him, and put shaving foam (and in later occasions, toothpaste because it is far cheaper) all over his body, and when all of this is done, everyone gives him a purple nurple.
This has become the template for all birthday celebrations, and now people who try to inflict others with their body foam/paste gets the nurple.
Also, the inside view of the fool proof institution is that it is not foolproof at all. As much as half the school are those “management” seats students, who have paid upwards of a third of a lakh to get in. This is true even for colleges here, were the best you get are around eight management seats. Some have a preference for management seats, and take in students by merit if and only if there are no management contenders or the seats. I would LOVE to give examples, but cannot because I am scared that I will be kicked out, like the chap who was fired because his blog badmouthed the company.
Coming back to the medical school, when they are dissecting and stuff, some dismembered hands are stuck or caught in weird ways, so they actually have to wrench the dead arm and twist it to get it into position. This means that all the formalin gets squeezed out. My friend once rested his hands on the stomach of his cadaver named adaveraca in goot, (a language we invented,) and just as he applied a little too much pressure on the stomach, the formalin flows right out of the poor dead fellow’s ass.
He told me about really cool things that make you doubt Darwinism, or at least comprehend the beauty of it. Cool things like internal skin that compartmentalizes the entire body. I did not know that arteries and veins to important parts of the body fuse up after separating, something that is called Anastomosis. For example, the vein that runs down your arms, splits up below the elbow and then comes back together at the palm. So even if one of them is blocked, the other one can supply blood to the entire hand. I thought that once a blood vessel splits, it does not eventually hook up, but seems such a thing keeps happening in the human body. Which means that the body becomes a very complicated thing, with the armpits having the most confusing mess of nerves, vessels and lymph nodes possible. Each nerve in your entire body is basically one cell, so that’s why a cracked nerve is impossible to cure. It’s just one cell extending from the brain to different parts of the body. One more thing is that it is impossible to keep your hand twisted, your elbow folded, and raise your hands above 90 degrees laterally. He told me of really dangerous ways in which you can injure yourself, a prominent one amongst these being falling on the palms of your hands. If a small part of the bone breaks there, the muscles will drag it upwards into the hand, which will damage the nerves, which will end up in all your digits being eternally folded at the joints. Also, there is also this huge anastomosis at the brain, called the Willis Circle, where 15 vessels hook up and ensure that the brain is under constant blood supply no matter what.
This is just uber cool
Would post more interesting things, but my father wants to use the computer for some accounts right now so...
I will blog the rules of goot tomorrow.
Saturday, September 17, 2005
I am going to make the friend rue this day.
Some other jokes crept up at Mochas, ranging from the newfound gaali of tera mocha to a quip that the joint should work for TATA (Mocha per car).
The hookah, which I wouldn’t have had (ever had a hookah? (as in HAD) That’s gross dude, how desperate can you get?) if it weren’t for a trip to MacDonalds midway into everything. Turns out that I did it very well, as two people professed. I am apparently a natural when it comes to hookahs. But the smoke filled me up, made me feel light headed and like dancing, although this fellow explained to me that kuch chadta nahi hai and later, when I was on the verge of vomiting and thinking my life was fucked, another friend says that it happened only because it was my first time.
Later, the stolen hookah filters in my pocket still gave the same smell that the original hookah did. Never having a fruity or mint hookah again. Later, I got high on the very fact that I had gotten high, and everyone were just a bit crazy, and we went on not one but two rounds of bumping cars at Hakone in the second closest Hiranandani to my house.
I asked a girl out yesterday, which was the highlight of the day, and she replied with not one but two affirmatives. First yeah then right. But I wasn’t disheartened because she thought I was joking… and I think she was. Feel like I’ve just had another hookah.
This is the first time I ever had a hookah
How much does a hookah cost here?
et cetera. Amazing light feeling, that sorts of blows this baloon up inside you. SMOKE. I could smoke, and there was no tobacco. We were basically smoking the coal.
But later, I was nauseus. felt like vomitting, and really drowsy. This was hell, and I am still feeling some part of it. Two guys actually went to sleep at that place.
Basically, I wanted a cold drink, and there is this irritating stretch of shops that have no cold drinks at all, so I had to walk a lot. Pepsi did not make me feel better, so we went to this mall and purchased party smart, some pills that cost ten bucks each and come only in packs of five. The point was that it would get rid of any hangover, but it didn;t because I did not have a hangover in the first place.
I took that pill anyway, had more pepsi, chewing gum, and headed out for a ride with a friend, when the scooter broke down.
Then it began to rain.
friend commented that it would be an excellent start for a film, hangover, getting over it, and an accident.
Anyway, met up with friends, got better, chatted a lot about the more dysfunctional love loves of more people, even rode on bumper cars although I was broke, pretended I was on a project to my parents, and got home really late.
now i am blogging there is more to it, but am too fucking sleepy to do it as of now, so i will just sleep it off.
No effect my foot - the sweet fruity flavor is just not leaving my mouth, even after eating chapatis and bhaji.
damn I am too sleepy.
Friday, September 16, 2005
1) Voice recognition: Using the same technology that recognizes voice tags, and Ajile Lie detector, it is possible to have a voice recognition security feature.
2) Iris recognition: Another step in biometric security measures would be to install basic software that would recognize your eyes as you held up the phone camera in front of your eyes. However, this will work only in high resolution cameras. 1.5 megapixels and upwards will do the trick.
3) Theft alarm: The camera is always on, so whenever the light changes drastically from dark to light, an alarm sounds, and one knows someone has removed the mobile from one's pockets.
Then, instead of catching a bus from borivili to Thane, we caught a bus to sion, and came back by train, the logic being to vasool the paise for the train pass. We also almost ended up going to VT, and back, but even we are not THAT crazy.
Anyway, here is the short story that was on hold for a long time in its final form.
The first time I saw her was in a bus. She climbed on, and my first impulse was to look away. Not because she was ugly, I didn’t even see her face. I just noticed that she was a girl, and I looked away, conscious of my gender. I didn’t want anyone to think that I was one of those guys with a male gaze. I was resolutely considering my own shoelaces, and suddenly, I noticed that they were tied in the shape of a heart. A pair of thin, slender legs in tight fitting black jeans edged up the aisle, and the figure that it belonged to rested against the handle of my seat. If an old man wasn’t dozing off beside me, she would have sat down next to me. The thought made my heart race, so I reacted by looking out of the window. I told myself to come to my senses. There was no scope even to maneuver… no way to fulfill my instant and inexplicable infatuation. I peeked at her face just as the bus gave a sudden lurch. She was pretty, but my eyes were on the city going by the next second.
Ten days later, I had forgotten all about her, and was going to sign myself up for a personality development course. I didn’t think there was anything particularly wrong with my personality, but the vacations were going on, and I was supposed to do something better with my time. My plan was to go there, and pretend that all the seats were taken and go back home, and spend my vacation in a more fruitful way than personality development courses. I was surprised that she was there, more surprised that I recognized her, and even more surprised to see that she recognized me. Thank God for personality development courses, we introduced ourselves, and for a good five minutes we discussed what was awaiting us in that course. We signed up (I for an incomprehensible reason, felt elated by the fact that our roll numbers were next to each other) for the course, and then we left.
There was a week to go before the course started, and I don’t want to recall what I went through. There was the anticipation, and the wild flights of fancy, and the wilder flights of… well, it will suffice to understand that there was a hell lot of anticipation. The days went slowly by, with me sitting in front of the television, or the computer, or other places I do not recall, but thinking only about her.
Finally, the d-day came. It was a Friday evening, and it was raining. I was dreaming about a set of warm shoulders next to me under my umbrella. She was there when I entered the classroom. She waved, I waved back, and walked towards her. Did I dare to sit down beside her? No, I thought to myself. I wouldn’t inflict myself on her. Take it slow I thought to myself. That’s the way to win them over. The bench behind her seemed to be a good idea. Yes, I thought to myself, it would be rude if I didn’t sit somewhere in her vicinity… and stupid. She moved inwards to accommodate me just as I crossed the bench she was sitting on. I felt like a dumb slug as I pretended not to notice, and slid into the bench behind her, thinking it would be very weird if I accepted the seat she had vacated for me. My bag caught in the corner of the bench, and I clumsily tried to disentangle myself. I felt the blood rushing to my face, and her amused expression didn’t exactly stem the flow. At that point of time, I thought, would I ever dare to ask her out?
Ten days later, I still hadn’t got her number, hell, I still hadn’t even sat next to her. She had grown friendlier to other guys in my class, and I was feeling frequent bursts of jealousy. I had this feeling that she was going out with one of them in particular. This guy who had a pierced eyebrow, and walked around with an army tag around his neck, and a chain around his wrists. I saw her appreciatively pat the shoulders of this boy after he had cracked what was undoubtedly the stupidest joke on the planet. She suddenly caught my eye, and as if she were goading me, twiddled two fingers at me, her elbow still resting on his shoulder. On that day, I confided in a friend I had made about the crush. He made some discreet enquiries, and found out that the girl wasn’t going out with anyone. My heart skipped a beat, and realized that something desperate had to be done. Somehow, I had to find a way to get her to say yes.
So my friend and I contrived this excellent plan so that I could ask her out – hopefully in a successful manner. My friend thought that it would be a good idea to take advantage of the fact that my birthday was around the corner. I would treat the class at a nice place. We even decided on the nearby McDonalds, because the evenings were crowded, they usually accommodated the larger parties in the terrace. This would be an excellent place. As soon as the venue was decided, I had to start saving up. A treat at McDonalds wasn’t something I could normally afford, but this was a special occasion, I thought. The fact that I could finally pluck up the courage to ask her out was more special to me than my birthday. Other details of the plan emerged. Everything was thought out to the finest detail. The guy in the army tag would be distracted by my friend, my friend would engross him with some stupid jokes. My friend and I would also ensure that all the sauce on the table would be finished. I would then drag her along to get some more sauce, which involved going downstairs to the main restaurant for the sauce dispenser. This would also mean descending a lonely flight of stairs, which would be an ideal location for what we had to do. I would then present her with a red rose, after shaving off the thorns, and ask her out. It was my birthday, she would find it hard to refuse, my friend reasoned.
My birthday arrived. First there were the personality lessons. We had to catch each other’s hands and play a game that involved squeezing the next person’s hands to pass on the message. Her hands were suddenly in mine. They felt warm. If they felt warm, it meant that my own hands were terribly cold. I condemned myself to eternal damnation and burst into sweat. Suddenly, her hands were squeezing mine. I became ecstatic, forgot about everything else, for the benefit of the professor, who used this to teach the virtues of co-operation for the sake of effective communication. After the lecture, army-collar guy startled me by walking up to me and saying “I hear you are going to propose to her…” I lost the rest of his sentence, and realized with a nasty shock that the enquiries of my friend weren’t as discreet as I trusted them to be. I made a mental note to kick myself, and more importantly him. The massive hands of army-collar guy tapped my shoulder twice, his eye with the ring hideously close to it winked, and he murmured “she likes chocolates.”
My rose was thrown into the gutter as I walked towards McDonalds with the rest of my class. Somehow, I managed to go to a shop, and they didn’t have a box of chocolates suitable for a presentation to a lady. I had to settle for a Cadbury’s temptation. Then I walked into McDonalds and requested the waiter for the terrace. He obliged, and part one of the plan went well. Seems that many people were in it, as the sauce disappeared with amazing rapidity. I hardly had any myself. Before I was able to mentally prepare myself, the sauce had run dry. It was on me to get the refill. She even got up on her own accord before I could gather up the courage to ask her to accompany me, as I would never be able to handle all the sauce.
Suddenly, I was following her slender legs through the door. The staircase was upon me! There were too many thoughts in my head at this point of time. Should I do it? How should I do it? What is the use? Why should I humiliate myself? Wouldn’t it be better if I would just get the sauce? This will be so embarrassing for me if she says no? Wouldn’t it be unfair to use my birthday to my advantage? Why the fuck was today my birthday? Why should I give her the trouble of refusing someone on his birthday? I rather just not do it? – No – too much effort had gone into this. If I didn’t do this now, I would never be able to do it. Such a good opportunity would never present itself again. I would kick myself later for not doing it. Birthday or no birthday, she was all that mattered. I had to ask her out.
I blocked out my head from all the voices that opposed this decision. I watched her skip down the stairs, her long hair flowing like thin threads of satin behind her. I made up my mind. I took out the chocolate from my pocket, completely ignored the fact that it had half melted. I drew closer to her in the staircase, became conscious of her smell. My heart began to race. I was about to do it.
She spoilt the magic by casually turning around and proposing to me.
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Now there are two kinds of Rickshaws out. Actually they have been out for a long time, but I never thought of blogging about them till a friend pointed out the finer details to me.
Why Cng Rickshaws should be preferred to Petrol rickshaws
-The sound that they make. CNG hardly makes any sound, but the petol ones have this really irritating noise, especially when they are revved up
-The wipers. In the CNG ones, there are automated ones, the petrol ricks have this irritating knob that the driver has to manually turn to wipe his screen
-the starting lever, the petrol rickshawdrivers have to yank up this huge lever at the side every time they have to start up their veicles. Irritating thing to wait for, when CNG drivers just have to press a button
Anyway, so we roamed around with the mobile camera, my friend learning how to use it and taking pictures of absolutely mundane things like the second hand books. Can't even call it a stall, there was jsut a cardboard box between the stall and the floor .
Then suddenly, he asked the seller if he would mind if he took a pic of him. The seller was pretty excited by the prospects, and posed for us.
What was funny was asking him to do so. We found out that it was almost impossible to ask someone for a snap in hindi, without the question having connotations.
"Kya aapka kheech sakte hai?"
"Kya aapka le sakte hai?"
Variants include, aapka lena hai, apka bhi le? (which was what my friend ended up saying)
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
What was meant to be an individual project turned out to be the biggest group project for the term. After the submissions, there were plans to party in either Matheran or Lonavala.
Whenever people plan to go to Goa, they end up in Lonavala or Matheran, so probably that is why we ended up going to a movie. We were dangerously close to foiling this plan too, becaue people started showing up in the theatre at the last moment, and till five minutes before the show, we were undecided as to which movie we had to watch. While everyone wanted to watch Salaam Namaste (including me) all of us pretended to want to watch Iqqbal, because, well, because obviously. Damn I don't know how to convey that... because of a thing called evolution that wants to make people more attracted to the other sex. All human motives can be explained by that line, so I guess that's also the reason why everyone was pretending that they wanted to watch Iqbal.
So Iqbal it was, and we ended up going to the movie.
So it was a Kuknoor film. I thought there would be no villians, but the chap had to struggle against something. That is why there was this corrupt fellow who would get his people into teams becaue of influence or something. This fellow happened to be bald.
I found absolute proof in the theory of evolution. Exactly how many people in the theatre wanted to watch Salaam Namaste was made clear to me, when the audience starting hooting, cheering and clapping along with the movie. Or maybe the film was as moving, but I didn;t think so. One hyperactive friend becan to wish she could make the bald head of the fellow bleed. Kids all over the theatre started calling out "taklya" loudly, and their parents were either too busy to notice (don't ask) or too bored to.
This is only about watching the movie, not the movie itself.
Hey one more thing, R-mall has an ice cream shop called pop Tates. Cool eh?
Hell, might as well blog about the movie.
er... deaf and dumb guy called Iqbal watches a cricket academy for two years using his biffaloes as a shield. His siter approaches the guru (Baldie) in the academy, and talks to him. Baldie takes a look at Iqbal, and he's in. Iqbal loses temper at some guy who taunts, makes a ball hit his forehead, and he's out.
Iqbal finds Naseruddin Shah, some guy who was a Ranji player taken to drinking. He manages to coax him to train him, gets selected for the Andhra Ranji team... and eventually manages to get the "neela vardi".
Kuknoor also throws in elements like a sister who interprets speech for him, a father who ddoes not want him to play cricket, and his mother who would do anything for this.
The acting was something like I have never seen before. The direction was amazing too. The storyline would have been nothing without these two things. But the first half was hideously boring, with his training and too many songs. The second half was really cool, because there were lines like this sweet mother of Iqbal's telling Shah that if Iqbal does not get into the team "main tujhe jaan se maar dalungi" (Darwinism gets proved at this point)
And guess who turns up in the end?
Amazing product placement though. There are Reebok shoes that are thrown into a fire by his angry father (who is against the game) and which his sister salvages, and which is still usable. Thums Up also makes an appearence, but the pacement does not make the movie one long advertisement like in Joggers Park. The placement, is in fact, better than complan in Koi Mil Gaya.
The hyper ative friend noted that Shah would have been better than Bachchan in Black, and I agreed...
Monday, September 12, 2005
Sunday, September 11, 2005
1) Bluetooth joystick: A joystick for your computer that is controlled either by the buttons or the joystick on the mobile. Not really difficult to make, you just need a sis file on the phone and a client to interpret on the comp.
2) Bluetooth mouse: Using the same technology that the game mosquito uses, it is possible to convert a cameraphone like the 6600 into an optical wireless mouse for the computer. Wonder why no one has thought of this yet.
3) Carjacker: Something to hack into and open car doors using the infra red port.
4) Burglar alarm cheater: Again, using the infra red port like one of those costly James Bond infra red pens, one can cheat those high end burglar alarms
5) Video player: I canot get my hands on a stupid video player with a stupid forward facility, so movies cannot be watched from my stupid phone.
Even in the twenty first century, and after ten thousand years of civilisation, mankind has not reached above the level of using a rock in his daily life. This rock was kept on a gate on a VERY posh society.
So I was looking at Pogo, that channel really shows some inappropriate stuff, and I was shocked when the "very very sexy" hair gel ad came on. Fortunately, the makers of the ad had modified the words on the final scene, and had removed the nudey women. Finally, we are seeing some responsible television.
Isn't this funny?
Anyway, the festival came and went while I slogged through two of my various unfinished projects. Now for almost fourteen years of my life, I have been spending the seven days of the festival at the local pendal, watching, year after year, the same bunch of kids dancing to different tunes. I remember the long hours of practie leading up to the final moment, and the exhileration of being on stage.
I never danced though. I once magically peed on stage when I volenteered for this magician, and he put a funnel below my pants and made it appear as if I was peeing in it.
Still remember people teasing me about it. Basically, there was this entire community that gathered only to comment on the low quality of the programs. Dances were bad, and the songs were boring. Don't know why anyone took the trouble at all.
The last two years, I have not been going, and am not exactly missing it, although there used to be a time when I used to defy my parents and stay out late nights. I also remember going top pick up the idol once, and staying in the truck with the idol in it while people rushed towards it and started praying...
The picture at the beggening of this post was taken during the time the idol was loaded onto the truck.
I donno losing interest in the festivals... haven't celebrated diwali or Ganesh utsav for more than three years. Holi this year after a gpa of two years. I have no clue if this anti - festival thing is a natural phase while growing up or if its just me being weird.
Saturday, September 10, 2005
For all eternity
Your brain is the howling wind
Of confused thoughts flying by
And for every thought that you think
You watch a helpless reality die
And suddenly your brain is a storm
With winds of time and fate and origin
And the paradox of life that you live
In lethargic misery and inane sin
The mind strays into untamed fission
And the wonders of science derange your head
For all the scientists dissecting atoms
Were working only to see people dead
And maybe death was the salvation
As life itself was never to be:
What if god isn't the greatest truth after all?
But instead, the greatest fallacy?
And deep inside the very soul burns
With the same energy that feeds the sun
For this soul of man refuses to believe
That life is but a thousand compounds of carbon
And all the weight comes down to life
A heart? A brain? A conscience? A soul?
What is that mystic spark that fuels a man?
Little choice but to accept 'life' as a whole
And life alone makes the mind go supernova
For with beautiful life alone began it all
And life alone is the thing that brings death
And a considering mind's downfall
And after all that the answer hits you
What if life is just god dreaming?
But then your blood curdles as you wonder
What if life is just god screaming …
…for all Eternity?
Friday, September 09, 2005
This is for people with series sixty mobile phones. If your mobile phone does not have an mp3 player built in, here is how you can convert it into one:
Step 1: Formatting: You need to format your songs for the sake of effective use of memcard space. A standard mp3 song occupies around 4 MB, because of either a 128 or 256 bitrate. However you can get it down to 400 odd kbs by using a sound editing software to reduce the bitrate. Wavepad is a good one and can be downloaded from http://www.nch.com.au/wavepad/. While saving your mp3 file just choose a low bitrate. 16 should do just fine, and 32 is more than enough for a mobile phone Also, amplifying the sound at this point would be a good option for better clarity say when traveling by a Mumbai local. Unless you are a music connoisseur, the quality difference will not be very evident. This trick can be used on standard mp3 players as well.
Step II: Transferring: If you are using a PC suite to transfer the mp3 files to your memcard, make sure that the auto format option is turned off, or all your .mp3 files will be converted to .wav files, compromising heavily on the space.
Step III: Software: You need to download an independent mp3 player for your phone. Ultra Mp3 player from http://www.lonelycatgames.com/index.php?note=ultramp3&chapter=ultramp3 is widely considered to be the best mobile mp3 player. Another good option is mp3go from http://m-internet.com/products/mp3gons60OS70/main.asp. These players are not free, but the demo versions play songs for sufficient time to be used. If you want a free player, the best one is the Helix mp3 player from https://helixcommunity.org.
Step IV: The headphones: You can get a headphone extension for anything from thirty to a hundred and fifty bucks. Fifteen if you take the trouble to go to Lamington road. These are wires around four inches long, with a port at one end where your headphones can plug in, and a pin at the other end which plugs into your mobile phone where your handsfree usually does. Alternatively, you can simply use a handsfree.
Harry Potter is like nothing but one millionth of LOTR photocopied on an old machine with kerosene ink.
Dungeons and dragons copies too many elements from LOTR, but is still pretty cool.
Eragon is one hundredth of that.
And the best part about the whole thing is, you cannot fit yourself into the story. For example, you canpretend you are a Jedi from Star Wars, you can pretend you are a wizard, and if you are really retarded, you can pretend that you are a dragon rider, but you simply cannot pretend to be maiar or a high elf. You cannot roleplay unless it is virtual.
You are a real fan of Tolkein if you know the answers to the following:
Q1: Who is the brother of Fingolfin?
Q2: What is the Elvish name for the Iron mountains?
Q3: Which were the only living creatures to reach the hidden vale of tumladen before Turgon?
Q4: Who made the rings of power (except, obviously, the one)?
Q5: Who was Tuor’s son? (Hint: Elrond’s father)
Q6: What does Gondolin mean?
Q7: Who perceived the ideas of Ar-Pharazon and decided to defy the ban, sail to the west, and warn the Valar? (Hint: Elendil’s father)
Q8: What did the fist men call King Felagund? And the elves? And the dwarves?
Q9: Easy one from the movie, and not the books: Apart from Frodo’s mail coat, where does Mithril appear in the return of the king?
Q10: Who was the lord of the Balrogs?
A2: Ered Engrin
A3: The eagles of Thorondor
A4: The smiths of Ost-in-Edhil
A6: The hidden stone
A8: Nom (means “wise”), Finrod and Felagund
A9: Aragorn’s crown
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
The same goes for homosexuals too.
Bisexuality is the only politically correct orientation, the only way to be non-sexist.
Asexuality is both insanely dumb and sexist.
Ambisexuality is simply ambisexist.
Animosexuality is no use and extremely disgusting.
While loosely on that topic, have managed to convince a few people that the Oedipus conflict is normal, and essential for proper psychological development. (complete explanation is in this post) Some people objected on the grounds that even if the parent is of the opposite gender in a one parent family, the child is just as likely to grow with underdeveloped morality. A part of the Oedipus/electra complex is not only attraction to the parent of the opposite gender, but a rivalry towards that of the same
So I started saving. I got upto a grand total of four, borrowed another six from my parents, and then went to a shop called paragon where I got my mobile in the first place. Apparently, my friend was misinformed. The Flash drive was available for four hundred, but the 512 memcard cost a good hundred short of two grand. I did not want to have just eight times my current memory (technology catches up fast) and I could have procured a 256 then and there. So I walk back all the way to the station, stopping by at every little shop to see if there was a cheap 512 available. The price went as low as a grand and a half, but not lower. So I assumed I should just stick at it and save a little more. But you know how it is, the money just blew away, I have no idea how. So I was back to zero, and I ended up taking sodexho gift vouchers for two grand from my mother. Now sodexho vouchers are these cheque like thingies that are a nice tax free substitute for cash.
I go back to paragon, they don’t take the vouchers. I got to another shop called the nokia gallery, and they don’t take it too. Another shop I went to doubted the authenticity of the vouchers and thought I had come to him with fraudulent vouchers, especially because the vouchers did not contain an address from which he could claim the cash. Stupid of sodexho to do that, I will write to them. In fact, I will mail in this entire article emphasizing on how it is nearly impossible to get a filthy little memcard on only sodexho passes.
After the incident at the shop where they thought I was a fraud, I went online to their site to search for shops that would give me the memcard in exchange for sodexho passes. First of all, you cannot merely search for memcards, you have to tick thnings like, misc, household appliances, clothing, cosmetics, books etc. But later, only three mobile shops showed up. One was in borivili, another was in colaba, and the third was in Bandra. I will start accounting for every rupee I spent on the quest from now on. First I decided to drop by at Cellnet. That is the one in Colaba. I caught a bus from CST, and it cost me 5 bucks. I ended up in the place, and asked if they accept Sodexho passes. They asked me to wait while they confirm with the “malkin”. The Malkin was this busy lady with a cellphone stuck to her ear, who paused on her way out to answer the question. The malkin said she would take the passes, but only on MRP. I agreed, didn’t make much difference to me, and the Malkin left the shop. I asked the other lady actually selling the stuff if I could get a 512 memcard. She said they didn’t have any in stock. I was, at this point, desperate to get the whole thing over especially since I had traveled so far, and asked for a 256. A 256, mind you, will show exactly how desperate I was.
The stupid shop did not have that too, and said they would get a 512 for me and called up the malkin to get one delivered. The malkin said that they wouldn’t take Sodexho passes for a memcard because of the low cost involved. I went back home. Five bucks more to the station.
A few days later, when I felt another great pang of need, I headed over to Bandra. It was this dinghy little place called HK Mobiles next to Tot’s Garage pub. Thirty bucks for the rick from Sion, and thirty two back, the shop was closed on Sundays.
Another day, another forty bucks later, I was at the shop. It was open, but they said they’d charge around seven percent extra for the card. I agreed, but the shock came when they said the MPR for a 512 was two grand AND THREE FOURTHS!
I got the card, paid them two grand and a half, promised to pay them the three hundreds later, and came home.
Thirty bucks back to sion station.
Say eighty more to bandra and back. So that’s a little more than three grand for a thing that I could have got for half that money. I should have saved up instead.
Sodexho sucks, I hate them, and I want to rant more about them, I would if I were not in the euphoria of having just 98 MB less than my friend’s old comp on my phone.
Monday, September 05, 2005
B: To keep my options open
C: What do you want to do?
B: I think there is a future in software engineering
A: Then why do you wan't to do commerce?
B: I might also take up fashion designing (Apparently, there is some unfathomable connection between the two careers)
A: Again, why did you take up commerece?
B: Tuje kuch nahi malum, tu chup bait (You don't know anything, so shut up) (This is B's answer to anything that the universe manages to throw at him)
That from a guy who left 12th standard studies to, in his own words "become a hero"
and I live in the most metropolitan city in this country.
Sunday, September 04, 2005
I always knew that the slip of the tongue is cause merely because of a silly mistake, and not because of a subconscious urge to say that instead.
Now a prof was teaching us about Freud and his contribution, and told use exactly why a slip of the tongue occurs. Freud was the fellow who came up with the term “slip of the tongue” which is known in psychological circles as the “Freudian slip”. Now according to Freud, there exists the conscious mind, the subconscious mind and the unconscious mind. The unconscious mind are the deep rooted desires, ideas and knowledge that takes a lot of will to surface. It is our underlying motives that are always hidden. The subconscious mind is kind of like the reflex mind, say someone asks your name and you know the answer without having to think about it. Now according to Freud there are many desires, specifically sexual hidden deep within out unconscious minds, and these show expression through dreams, activities like fidgeting with stuff, and slips of the tongue.
The prof, after relating all of this that the latest in psychology, in a journal released last year, claims that a slip of the tongue is just a careless mistake!
Maybe I will become a psychologist.
I think that the slip of the tongue takes place due to a mistaken subconscious. This occurs when your subconscious brain reacts faster than your conscious brain, and you say something else instead of what you were meant to say.
anyway, this one:
Time is such a funny thing you see
It goes on and on for all eternity
Maybe it is by which the sun rides the day
Or by which all heavy elements decay
Or yet simply the evolution of the mind
It will forever be, and forever be undefined
For time is such a confusing mess
There is so much of it, yet so very less
It exists without end or beginning
Without corroding itself, it corrodes everything
And all the greatest things merely pass it by
It will live on even when entire universes die
And now I am writing this stupid rhyme
I am just bored and want to kill some time
But I can see that it will be
That time will end up
There is this guy called Roger McGough, and I consider his poem called survivor the best one ever written by anyone.
It gets to the root of any piece of poetry ever written:
I think about dying.
About disease, starvation,
Violence, terrorism, war,
The end of the world.
Keep my mind off things.
Saturday, September 03, 2005
Not against leaders who don’t or a system which isn’t. Not against the population that has decreased the worth of each individual. Not against the rat race that you are forced into, or even the fucking rats that are always ready to take you out. Not against the stifling life and death that (amazingly enough) isn’t liberating but “cowardly”. It is not even… not even… against ourselves.
The angst is against the fact that we are not all we aspire to be, and we blame different things because we cannot fucking do anything else about it.
[Is Id wrong?]
I asked the teacher if there were any more pre adolescent examples of such behavior, and she said there were many and cited Oedipus complexes and children being curious about genitalia, especially of the opposite gender. She didn’t elaborate much, but I went and looked it up in this book called “Children and sexuality” By Tony Harrison. So this is a mixture of what the teacher said and what the book showed up. I know wikipedia has a pussy page for child sexuality, about some kid masturbating and basically, it says that children explore themselves sexually too…
Now this Oedipus conflict in particular made people want to burn Freud as a heretic.
First there should be a basic understanding of the Freudian concepts of Id, Ego and Superego. Basically, the Id is the innate desire for sex, and basically the animal instinct of man. The Ego is the mediator between the id and Superego, and basically tries to interpret both and act on a suitable compromise. The ego is basically responsible for our personality. The superego is the social consciousness, or the moral values of the society and its norms.
Now, there is this story of the Hero who runs away from home because he discovers a prophecy that says he will marry his own mother. Then he ends up in a foreign land, defeats a king and abducts his wife, only to find out that they were his real parents. The name of this hero is Oedipus and that’s how the complex came to be.
Oedipus complex is said to be a sexual attraction towards the parent of the opposite gender, although sometimes it is only an attraction of a son to his mother. A daughter to father attraction is called an Electra complex. Each child looks at the parent of the same gender as a rival (do NOT tell me this isn’t true). According to Freud, there are five stages of child development. The funny thing is, each stage is named after a part of the body.
>The first stage is the oral stage. Here, pleasure is derived from sucking a bottle, or a thumb, a pacifier, or any other object. This is often misinterpreted as something to do with teething.
>The second stage is the anal stage. This was very weird to me when I first read it, but later on, I realized that it rang true. Children derive pleasure by retaining and expelling bodily wastes. This is also an expression of unsatisfied sexual behavior.
>The third stage is the phallic stage. Exploring the genitals brings pleasure to the child. Also, the Oedipus complex develops at this stage, and if this does not happen, the super ego does not develop. A lack of an Oedipus complex will lead to a lack of pressure to be within social norms. This is probably why children who do not have a parent around have a tendency to become anti-social elements.
>The next stage is the latency stage, where the superego (which has developed due to the Oedipus complex) gives the child a moral sense.
>The genital stage, is brought about by puberty, and libido is no longer suppressed and finds adult expression through intercourse and other activities.
I have seen plenty of examples of this. I know of a nursery class where children of the opposite gender frequently lift up their clothing and have no problem showing off. Also, I once read this question in an agony aunt column where a worried father asks if it was normal for his four year old to feel an urge to kiss another girl on her lips. So at least part of all this is true.
This leads to many questions when it comes to the relationships between children and adults. The way you interact with a child may be reciprocated in a way you wouldn’t imagine. The secrets blog that is blogrolled on my sidebar actually has at least two instances of people admitting to like, or fantasize about childhood molestation.
This means that the children may reciprocate sexual advances by other people, which is, somehow, a very dangerous thing.
The existence of complex sexual behavior in children is widely ignored because our culture forbids such thoughts. We reason that kids aren’t even aware of their gender, so how can sexuality be attributed to them. Is gender awareness necessary for sexual thought? Do we think I am MALE so I am going to find a FEMALE to inseminate? Aren’t our urges more primordial and more inherent?
There used to be child brothels in ancient Greece. Both Oedipus and Electra complexes are rampant in all cultures. Especially in Greek Mythology, children and siblings are found to rampantly procreate with their parents. Even in Indian mythology, Brahma bears children with his own daughter.
Time for acceptance, because this will allow sex education to permeate into the basic consciousness and therefore lead to a safer world for children.
This is a handle of a CBZ I think...
pretty funny no?
I wanted to make a long winded post about this, but will make it short. Why do we blog?
1) Heck of it
2) Because our friends blog
3) Online diary
5) Outreach (I really hope that is a word)
6) Ego massages
7) One or more of the above.
Must make a poll out of all the above...
could watch on tv for the rest of your life....what would you choose?"
4) Whose line is it anyway
5) Nat geo specials
Actually, my list ends here, and I wouldn't want anything more, but still:
6) Junkyard Wars
7) Movies on cable
8) Late Night discovery
9) The bike show on travel and living
10) Adventure one
One program I wish was available here: Southpark
I might as well give ten websites I would require (leaving out search engines for obvious reasons)
7) Star Wars
8) Muggle net
9) download dot com
One website I wish was still alive: harrypotterfans.com. My fandom for HP died along with this site.
What the hell, ten programs while I am at it
1) Adobe Photoshop
3) MS Word
5) Ms PowerPoint
6) Internet Explorer
7) Windows Movie Maker
And ten games
1) SW Episode 1 racer
3) Burnout (on PS2)
4) Deus Ex
Anf finally, ten mobile software
3) Ultra Mp3 player
4) Anti Mosquito
5) Stop watch
repulsive: Ok, that's how you feel and there might be no helping it, but I'll try.
Unnatural: You are wrong here. Homosexuality is perfectly nautral and exists in all cretures. The whip tailed lizard is an entire race of lesbians. Monkeys, Apes and dogs all show homosexual behavior. There is a very simple, natural reason for all of this. say we call early human ancestors apes, although strictly speaking, this is far from the truth. Now Apes lived in tribes where one alpha male was responsible for inseminating all the other females. He bashed up the other males who din't do this. Other males could sit and do nothing and have zero contribution to the gene pool and could combat their uselessness by:
1) Having sex with other males and pretending that they were contributing to the gene pool
2) Getting friendly with the alpha male gicing him more of a chance to inseminate a female on the sly.
The females on the other hand would stimulate each other more because they would be living in large harems and have almost negligible reproductive potential when compared to males and would recieve a lot less sex. So homosexuality has actually evolved with us.
In fact, there does not exist homo or hetrosexuality - only varying degrees of bisexuality. Exclusive homosexuality is not natural and is only a modern interpretation of a very natural phenomenon because of some of the reasons you know of. Nonetheless, individual dignity and freedom should be respected, and each person should be allowed to explore his sexuality as much as he wants to.
Wearing a condom is unnatural. It is against the very purpose of intercourse. Are you disgusted by anyone who wares a condom?
In the primitive stage of life, there existed only isogametes. They would fuse with each other and produce a new organism. Now, to get an edge over other isogametes, some gametes started growing larger so that the organism they contained would get more nutrition. Others became smalles so that they could quickly inseminate the larger gametes and ensure that their genes passsed on. So basically, the same problem was tackled in different ways and male gametes and female gametes evolved. Now two female gametes fusing to form an organism would have been an optimum solution, but the smaller, faster male gametes would achieve insemination first. As things evolved, the size difference grew larger, and other evolutionary charechtaristics began to evolve in females to accomodate the flow of male sperms. Therefore the two genders were established... in the near future, because of biological breakthroughs it will be possible to work the other way and make children out of the genes of two people of the same gender.
Studies anyway show that homosexual people are more capable of handling hetrosexual relationships. ALL WOMEN AND MEN HAVE HOMOSEXUAL FANTASIES. Because, everyone is bisexual.
Plain hypocrisy: didn't get you...
Thursday, September 01, 2005
Instead, I will blog a mail I recieved, which amazingly enough, has calmed me down a bit. i have amazing friends.
Do you ever check your missed calls list? Why dont you ever call back? I am stuck in a stupid place called PIMPri!! Its a slow country life in these places. I get utterly bored. We have a subject called Communication Skills and it teaches pronounciations and it SUCKS BIG TIME!!
Its like they think we are Eminems and are always correcting our grammar and pronounciations. Guess What? Sumedh's Back in Mumbai. He got into UICT matunga.! !Great right? How are your projects? Do you manage to sneak some time for yourself and hangout?
Keep Mailing me Please I get Utterly bored!!
And to those I did not comment, you bloggers rock!!!!
fuck my head is messed up right now.
hehe, i tried to use the mobile on the table as a mouse to click ok!!!
This is an outline, fleshing out the story later. Havelock vs Puck. It was the biggest event in sports entertainment, ever. Millions...