The night it all began

The city was cold tonight. It always is nowadays. Cold made the road wet, made everything wet. Moon shone bleakly through the dense smog. Dilapidated buildings loomed ominously over empty streets. Lamps lit silently along the roadside illuminating the roughly edged pavement with its lines and its hexagons, beautiful symmetries lying unappreciated in this ignorant neighborhood. The cold prevented any wasps. Every yard or so a tile had been broken from the pavement, wounds from an angry past, requiring a person to be careful while walking.

My tired breath formed smoke in front of my mouth as if I were a trained smoker. I never smoke, too proud for that. Tilted hat and raised collars tried to hide my face from both the obstinate cold and the onlookers, if any; this wasn’t a friendly neighborhood after all, not now. The ochre overcoat hung limply over my sagging shoulders. Gloved fingers unconsciously wrapped tightly over my work briefcase, it was my only prized possession. The gumboots led my feet through the puddled pavement; the dark pathway wasn’t much visible, not even beneath my feet, except beneath the yellow lamps, so I let them have their way.

Tiny beads of perspiration formed at the roots of my hair even in this cold. The hat stuck tightly. Every night from work to home my heart would beat faster lessening my lifespan. Once inside my four walls I had to take pills for my blood pressure. Every night I feared would be the last night. I would change paths, no path was traversed too frequently, sneak into unlikely boulevards, even run into a nearby basement when fear took the better of me. I thought the fear would subdue eventually, that I would get used to it but the fear of death never weakens.

The neighborhood was not always like this. The city was not always like this. It was a small town, brimming with integrity. For some reason it stayed underdeveloped the way it was while the rest of the country flourished. There was neither oil to be found nor croplands to be tilled. Some inertia prevented it from growing but people were happy in this low lying island of a town. But it made the people hollow. Men cannot live without pride, without winning, without sin. Unblemished happiness does not last long. Men started imitating their neighbors, tall buildings were raised but never completed, inefficient industries polluting the river stole the scenery, laws were compromised and when needed broken, rich people without consciences who would earlier be not even allowed to step in the town were now worshiped. The city lost its soul. People became happy, then irrational, then scared. Started living together in small well-knit colonies. Whole neighborhoods were left to slums and gangs. I saw it all happening.

Why did I live alone then? Why did I not choose the life of compromise, the life of safety that everybody else chose? Why did I choose to live in my childhood home? May be it was childish stubbornness. May be I could not live like them. May I could not let them hurt my childhood memories while I was still alive. May be I cherished them more than my life. My hair was growing grey prematurely, but I would stay here till my heart would allow. Every night I reached home I rejoiced, it was a night I won and they lost. I lived for winning. Life was meaningless without resistance. It gave me reason, it gave me purpose. Or may be I was plain crazy.

I was one turn from my home. I had almost won tonight, just when tires screeched, someone had turned the steering to its full potential. A small car, what it was I could not tell in the darkness, materialized in front of me. Its headlights made my pupils contract to pinpoint and it still hurt. I could see the devil grinning. Today he would win. I heard gunshots, not one or two but many. The devil was celebrating with great cacophony. It hurt my ears but my arms would not budge, my legs became a part of the pavement, my heart pounded heavily against my chest wishing to beat for a more rational being, my soul had left me long ago. I stood still awaiting the end.

Just then something flickered. I heard fluttering of cloth nearby. Someone had been watching us. I felt angry and humiliated at being witnessed by someone in my weakest moment but then another round of gunshots and fear dethroned anger. But something wasn’t right, why wasn’t I shot yet? They hadn’t seen me in the darkness; the gunshots were not for me but for my spectator. Or was I the spectator now? And in the headlights I saw him for a moment before he melted into the darkness again. He had flown, yes flown like a bird in front of the car. He was tall, eight feet, no ten feet tall. He was a giant. He could not be human. It was as if the night had had enough, had condensed itself to take revenge. The bullets could not touch him he was too fast. Fear was afraid of him. And then the car toppled, huge hands not hands but machines pulled the doors apart. Even from the distance I saw the fear in their pale eyes, there were three of them, they had seen the devil. I smiled; the devil had not come for me but for them. He blocked my view again. I saw nothing but unending darkness. Even the night was pale in front of him. And then they all vanished leaving behind the debris of an overturned car. I was afraid he, no it would come for me next but nothing happened.

My legs regained sense and I ran for my place not looking back once. I took double my pills tonight. I had seen the grim, no I had lost my faith in god long ago, it was no grim, it was a human, he was a human, just like me. I was not alone, he was with me. He too could not give up. He too was crazy like me. Together we would fight, shoulder to shoulder. We would fight for the city, we would fight for the people, we would fight for ourselves and we would win each time. I knew that he knew that I was fighting, it made me happy, made me young again. I threw away the pills, I no more needed them, they did not suit a warrior, he would not like it. The fallen angel had arisen and this time he was human. Death itself was with me, I never felt fear again.

The Beginning Is The End Is The Beginning

There was once a time when I thought it would never end, I would live this life of righteous orthodox banal servitude till I become of them, till I forgot who I was and became what I was supposed to be. But now I can see the terminal, flimsy though it might be but it is there nonetheless. Goody bye cynicism. Optimism’s the new way of living. As they say, this is the beginning of a new end.

The tracks are old and rusty. The wagon creaks beneath me. As I rush past the old stations the poor graffiti on walls remind me who I was. Light floods now and then through the dirty tinted windows enlightening the faces of my silent fellow passengers. We all know the culmination is near. It has been a long journey. As I sit on the worn out seat looking out the window at the water droplets spilling out from leaking pipes and kissing the window now and then, enjoying their freedom, relishing their evanescent existence, I dream of all the places I had seen on this seemingly interminable journey. The cocoon is breaking, metamorphosis is near ...

Love thy neighbour, I mean really really love thy neighbour

This is the inferior vena cava speaking. The blood that flows through me goes all in vein. Life is so depressing. All I ever get are dull red blood midgets. And I have a very dumb name. Everybody is always making fun of me. No poems named after me. According to the time 2010 poll I am like the second least romantic organ in the body (first obviously being medulla oblongata, without doubt, unanimous decision, very uncool). And why the heck do I get to be inferior. Blatant apartheid!!

Nah just kidding, this is still the brain. I like making fun of other organs, part time hobby of mine. Sorry for the poor jokes though, can't help it. You should see what it's like up here. Tightly packed inside a nutcase, poor ventilation, bad lighting conditions. It's like living in kanpur but outside iitk. Imagine not getting your back scratched in a hot april afternoon. Sometimes I just ... hey I am speaking bro ... wtf ... hey ...

The subconscious's speaking. Hate that smooth talking rat. Gets on my nerves sometimes. Dude's got control of the whole organism most of the day and hasn't been able to copulate for over a full two decades. Tag and shag bro, how hard can it be? But no, just keeps on pushing more and more desires into me, like I am some kind of an external 1TB hard drive. They should let subconscious's control the masses. Much better place the world would be.

Oh and sea food. Haven't eaten good seafood from aeons. They used to make melt-as-soon-as-you-put-in-the-mouth fish tikka here. Whenever I see pictures of those prawns and oysters and shrimps makes me wanna eat the paper itself. No demarcations though. The mind part here is quite broad by itself. Lambs and pork chops and bacon and french food, especially the deserts and champagnes and vintage wines, italian cuisines ... getting a bit light-headed. When I get hold of that money, there's gonna be a big coup and I am gonna make sure there's no dish in the world I haven't tasted.

But food's not the emergency. There's a whole bunch of organs yet to gain full functionality. Two dimensional images are fun at first but eventually you need to add a new dimension to your perspective. No need of being choosy either. Sometimes when you see all the bouncing and squishing and pressing and tearing and sweating and moaning and shouting and tying up of things and maple syrups and vegetables and telephones and ginormous vagi...

All right, sorry for that, heh heh, think I am back, testing 1,2,3, yep, as I said, its all rickety up here, can happen to anybody, mind wanders sometimes ...umm ...urm ...umm guess I need to go and eat ... sheesh, that was close, need to make sure that doesn't happen again ... bye.

(Evil subconscious laughs a sinister laugh in the background, but is not heard because of a lack of mouth. His imaginary eyes glow green and dude's got an evil looking hairdo. What secrets does the future hold?)

Gentle now, A tender breeze Blows

Whispers through, A Gran Torino
Whistling another Tired song

Engines humm, Bitter dreams Grow
Heart locked, In a Gran Torino
Beats A lonely rhythm, All night long



Oh how much I wish I could take a car and ride on a long long road, looking at the milestones passing by. And keep going till the nightfall, while the world moves behind me. And when the sun goes beyond, I would park my vehicle outside the road and stare at the stars in a clear crystal sky, see them moving as I stand still.

Stillness. That's how the campus is now. Not a breeze is moving. Outside my third floor balcony a young mango tree stands guarding a football field, holding its breath, waiting for something. Every now and then a leaf or two shivers from the adamant cold.

No classes today. You can walk through the lecture hall complex without seeing a soul. All humans were eliminated miraculously and you are the sole survivor, looking at the empty corridors, sleeping in dew sprinkled lawns, watching the still working fountains. No frogs leap beside you, no flies trouble you. There aren't any left. Just you and the red buildings.

If I could fly I would fly to top of the tallest building or go above the clouds where no planes fly, where howling winds blow. There you can see the sun and the stars together. You can see the clouds forming and dying, like all living beings do. I would stare at the blue rock in the breathtaking universe. I would go farther above, beyond the satellites, beyond the earth's siblings, beyond the galaxies, into the emptiness.

I stand still as time flows against me.

Pappu pass ho gaya

Got my semester results today. Passed with relatively unenthusiastic colors, penguinish one might say, no where near flying. Now there can be no logical reason why results should ever be compared to colors and even if there had been one there would further be no perceptible explanation as to why these colors should be flying. Had I been consulted I would have suggested bright or sexy colors. Had there been a further constraint that the colors should appear to be doing something then wildly jumping or madly dancing would better express a good result or may be hobnobbing would be my second choice. Mainly because it is fun to say hobnobbing again and again. (Hobnobbing. Hobnobbing. Hobnobbing.) And we would be putting such a good word to some decent use. Gandhi used to say be the change you want to see in the world. I passed with not very hobnobbing colors. (Hobnobbing. Hobnobbing. Hobnobbing.)

Oh and another thing got sidetracked in our deep philosophical discussion of the proper adjective for colors. I passed :D Hurrah!! (Hobnobbing. Hobnobbing. Hobnobbing.)

vhat's the zoke yaar?

Why is chess >> bridge?





Ha Ha Ha Ha





Ha Ha Ha Ha





Ha Ha Ha Ha





Ha Ha Ha Ha


Because you can play chess on a bridge but you cannot play bridge on a chess.

Stream of Life

Courtsey: Divyanshu


The more I write the more I spoil the video.

To summarize, this video is for those still stuck at the age of six, who like the boulevards and the cobblestone paths and old and new buildings, who like the smell of the sea and the smell of the desert, who like watching umbrellas in the rain, who still smile at a flying plane, who dance badly, who like dancing badly, who want to see the Whooole World one day, ...

And thanks Matt.

Winter's here

The sun never came out today. It drizzled and it was cold, the nice kind of cold, the way they have on hill stations.

It is a very sleepy weather tonight and I am right now with a thick blanket on my shoulders. Everyone went to bed early so I had to go to canteen alone :( Just collected a kurkure packet and headed back, sitting alone waiting for food in the canteen is very boring.

I was actually in a sober mood when I started writing this post, but then a non sleeping friend pinged me and then another and now I am back head banging.

Now frankly there is no story that happened to me that I can tell you that might excite you. But I think I give myself very less credit. Hardly anyone has anything to tell. People just exist because everybody else does. I at least always have something bad happening to me.

Day before yesterday my 8:30am prof mailed everyone in the course that it was compulsory to attend the last class else no end semester for you. So I set the alarm for 8, went to sleep at 6:30, mysteriously woke up at 9:05, ran in my slippers and a pencil to cse building reaching just 50 mins late. Well my prof asked who I was I said I was in the course and the rest as they say is history. The silver lining being that I am still technically eligible to write the end semester.

Now the above story might be a horrible cliche, but I had almost forgotten a professor's berating in class mainly because its been a long time since I seen classrooms. I am more than used to professors yelling at me in their offices, but the classroom experience was simply, rejuvenating.

Then there was the btp report thingy. Well, ... lets not go into so deep a shit.

The phrase 'fucked up' was invented to describe me. Because of the infinite assignments, almost every day last week I have been sleeping less than six hours. But no complains here. In fact, I find myself enjoying this a lot. Staying awake can be fun too. Now that all the project demos are over, I have a take home exam to submit next week followed by the usual end semester followed by placements.

Speaking of placements I did not make into MorgStan :( I got shortlisted for Deusteche Bank interview though, but I think they are interested in good looking people, but it is still worth a try. After DB only nomura is left after which I would have no choice but to work in a computer company.

I ordered a tailored suit for myself this weekend. Its supposed to be in plain black. I like plain things, they are easier to comprehend. I wore a tie on a formal dress for a DB presentation, it was awesome, reminded me of my school days. Frankly I am highly fed up of wearing pajamas and t-shirts, though its not like I have much of an option, it is the easiest attire to sleep in.

Almost everyday someone advices me that I should go for a phd. Now the word should is one of those words that people use to make themselves feel superior. Here's the facts succinctly: 1) I hate computer science 2) I hate computer science 3) I am more interested in annihilating the professors here than asking recommendations.

I am currently watching californication. Usually when watching serial, the background music always brings you in the required mood. I always miss it while reading novels. Of course if a novel is good it does not require sounds to mold the reader, words are enough. But I write horribly. I always feel that there should be a background music going on while someone is reading my posts. Music is life.

Delhi

Finally I am done with all the unnecessary examinations required for trying to get into a university. These examinations most likely gave me the hardest time of my life. Not that I studied and got worried, but I had stopped playing games because of them and I ended up watching house all over again. The only reason I gave these ludicrous exams is as they say, to keep open all the options, which is a ridiculous statement in itself.

Delhi is one city that I think I can survive if I get stuck in india, but it lacks night life big time making it less than an ideal city. And quite contrary to my prejudice it is a decently cheap city. But then I only got an afternoon to spend during most of which I was walking with my carry bag and I bought some nice pirated novels from Connaught C. The train by which I reached Delhi was a whopping seven hours late, a personal best, so I decided to rather return by bus which was not a very comfortable journey, but adventure ranks higher than comfort anytime.

Dota is back, and with greater dedication. So all is beautiful and sunny here, well not sunny, the cold's approaching and I hate that icy bastard. The sun is a man's best friend. Never liked low temperatures. But the greener side is that we are having hot water in showers now :D Bathing in hot water is more fun than playing dota or solving sums. Recently a wasp bit me on my finger and then when you pour hot water on the swollen pinky you feel better than masturbating, though I think real sex must be better, need to try it sometime.

And we had an entrance exam for Morgan Stanley and, not exaggerating, it was the best exam I have given here in iitk. It was not difficult, in fact may be two years back I would have solved it in an hour, but difficulty's not the only issue. They had a problem on limits!! I wish I qualify the exam, will prepare for the interview wholeheartedly. They have their interviews in November, that way if I get the job I wont have to apply to the stupid univs :D For those who think economics and mba is a disrespectful option as compared to research, well I think exactly the contrary, but then it's just nomenclature, there is honor even among thieves.

Antaragni is going on right now. Meaning that I can guiltlessly play dota and watch series for three whole days. There are a lots of girls in the campus recently, beautiful ones, but then most of them have an iq less than 80 and none of them plays dota, aoe or does maths or watch house, so I got nothing to strike up a conversation on, but of course beautiful girls are not meant to be talked with, they have other uses. There are some big events which most of the people here would attend after standing in long rows, I haven't made any plans for myself yet though I am planning on finishing up either bleach or supernatural.

I saw this movie Public Enemies recently and man it was awesome. The way old time gangster movies used to be where the goon was a good fellow in the heart, more of a robinhood theme. More than the story and all that, I like to wonder at america's history. The movie is based on time of 30's and even then america was better than today's india. I like to marvel at how a democracy can function so efficiently. Its like evolution, only on a much smaller time scale. And the high-def version of up has been released, so those who haven't seen it yet, now's the time, haven't seen it myself yet. Here's song from public enemies soundtrack,

.

Ahem

Well well well, what have we got here, a fourth year computer science student whining about his tough decisions and the mediocrity of life. Or rather such would have been a very sound assumption. But such imaginations need to be forfeited for I am all sunshine and upbeat right now.

There's a multitude of things that contribute to this general cheeriness.

I am right now in a just finished reading a wodehouse phase and hoping to get hold of another one before the complete waning takes place. And this phase has superimposed itself with a three day holiday phase resulting a very pleasing constructive interference.

The part of the brain which processes trifling matters about my future and about studies and other old people's affairs has got all its neurons entangled and is laying dysfunctional and the rest of the brain muscles are working hard to make sure that it stays so.

Of course a certain amount of feminine presence would have heightened the current bliss but on the greener side I am serving the last year of my sentence and all set to be rehabilitated.

The closest relatives of luxury here are the milkshakes and ice creams offered in our canteen and I have taken up the strenuous task of exploring these vast terrains very seriously.

I am also almost on the brink of making one of my brilliant jokes right now but the receiving end needs to be prepped up a bit to prevent any kinds of vengeful acts, so it will have to wait for the next time.