mirror

The City

2011-03-15T12:54:00.001-07:00

Finally, their time has arrived. The sports loving fraternity of Kolkata have a chance and they’ve decided, very true to their nature, to pounce on it. Talking of chances, they have lost one for hosting the India vs England WC match on Feb 27 due to reasons best known to CAB and the people. And how ironical that turned out to be. (That match returned a TRP of 17, a record per se.) One of the best cricket match one will ever witness was played, instead, at Bangalore. So the people have decided this time they re not going to miss out on the Most-Sports-Loving-City Tag. I talked to few of the folks and the mood was more than just upbeat about the coming two matches. The first one is on 18th March and between the associate heavyweights Ireland & Netherlands. As, one of the cricket lovers put it, “We would have loved to have our compatriots from across the wire-fenced border on the east play against the devils in Blue but we will have to do with whatever resources we have( No I am not copying/quoting anybody else here).” So my question was who will you support? “Well, it’ll be Netherlands of course.” Of course? Pardon my ignorance but I can’t understand the logic behind that. “It’s easy. Look, in WC 2007, Dada wasn’t the captain and India was kicked out of the ICC event. Pakistan was also, by Ireland. So what it did was lessen the backlash on Greg ‘Anguli’ Chappel and Rahul Dravid on whose dismissal in a match against SA we clapped. We’re so happy you know. Tumhi bhoojti padi naa? " He added. Flabbergasted and incensed at the reasoning and logic of this guy, I moved on to the other guy, who was having a smoke outside the ITC Virgina HO on Park Street, in search of a more intellectual-kind of people. The man looked reasonable with his big black specs, hairs well-oiled and combed in a pull back fashion and a Jute Bag to accompany him. I asked him about his and his folks’ plan for the other match, i.e., the Big Fight coming on 20th March between the African pioneers of cricket, viz., Zimbabwe and Kenya. Nonchalant as Ganguly used to be during his “God-of-Off-Side” Shots, he answered, “Look we care for Zimbabwe’s suffering and hence we, the people of Kolkata, have decided to wear black armbands in show of our continued support towards the people of Zimbabwe and against the illegal Mugabe Government.” So are you saying that you will support Zimbabwe, the same nation that produced gems like the Flower Brothers? He continued in his baritone, “ That’s not what I said. Well, we’ll be supporting Kenya.” Why? “Can we have this off-the-record?” Sure, we can.”Actually, Kenya was Dada’s favourite team. He just loved to bat against them. Do you remember back-to-back centuries against Kenya? Man, what innings of importance and what a timing for the knock. Must Win Games.” So should we expect a jam-packed Eden Garden alike the India-SL semis in 1996 WC? “Believe me, this will be bigger than that. The inside news is Didiji (For the ignorant fools, Didiji is how Mamata Banerjee widely known as in Bengal) is also coming to watch this ‘big-ticket’ game and will also present a lifetime achievement award & a leadership award to, guess who, Shourav.” He added in a fit of excitement. So, should we expect any moves from Dada on the political arena? “Well, although I am not the right person to comment on this, still I’ll tell you. The word is, Didiji has planned to take the presence of her party on a national-level. Dada being a welcome face across the nation, will be the best ambassador. The CPM is finished. They have belied our expectations and given us the wrong end of the stick. They promised us moon and gave Kolkata(Off the record please). But no worries, change will bloom and flourish soon in the land of Boses, Tagores & Sens. A change even the goondas of CPM can’t resist. Didiji is also contemplating a Railway Cricket Academy on the lines of MRF Pace Academy. Of course who better than Dada could be in-charge of the affairs there.” He concluded as he stubbed his cigarette under his leather chappals.As we take/make (in Kolkata you always have to make ways) our ways, my eardrums register a muffled voice of Jago Bangla in the same familiar baritone.

That’s all for today’s bulletin.

Aayush Anand for Baking News

Disclaimer: Yaar Hatao... ab itna kya Formal hone ka... :)

21 Randdumb things about me:

2011-02-02T00:26:00.000-08:00

March 2010
Hmm... so here I am... again. I have this frigging exam tomorrow..err...technically today I guess.

So, today I was riding my raampyaari with Gaurav to the Tata Steel Sports Complex and on the way I saw one mini truck with those ‘sarias’ tied to the beams of the carrier part. As protruding as Pinnochio’s nose I guess...
So I told Gaurav one of my darkest secrets then only...

1. I always fear that one day I am gonna die in this fashion: Me driving anything on wheels with a thela/ vehicle carrying those ominous rods in front of me. A sudden screech of breaks and then my ribs pierced by those rods. An innumerable number of holes I guess . Guess because it is said that you can’t ever dream of what happens to you just after the death. I have seen myself falling from a skyscraper but just before I touch the ground, the dream vanishes as anything.

And here is more of Ran-dumbs for others to read....

2. I always wanted to join Indian Navy. But I never ever came as near to even appear for the exam. I did also want to be a scientist, an IPS officer and a spy. And, these days ideas of plunging into politics is hogging my mind.

3. I have always felt that I have been poor with Maths. However, the fact that I have always managed to get good scores in exams, be it boards, IIT JEE or AIEEE (or recently the CAT), i.e to say exams which have mattered to me, still flummoxes me.

4. I always find my choice in everything to be the best be it songs, movies, girls, clothes, shoes, etc. Fortunately, my choice of movies are rated well in the IMDB. My choice of songs have won many awards and feature in the classics. Clothes and shoes are too trite to be talked about. And, about girls..... no comments.

5. Since my teen days I have always thought of giving a thought to institution of marriage in mid 30s only. Since then only, the term ‘arranged marriages’ sounded to me ugly like *yuck*.

6. When I came to know (15 days after the accident) that I have broken my right wrist my first thought was “Thank God... I didn’t broke my left.”

7. I find my name to be the best sounding one in the whole goddamn world. I also feel that is one of the two things I am good at.

8. I can’t cry when people die. So, all those who read this please tell your souls not to hurt me because I couldn’t cry at your funeral.

9. I can be a crybaby when it comes to movies. I try my best not to but still I can’t stop my tear glands.

10. I think when it comes to writing I could only write it about me, for me, of me, me me and only me... Does that makes me a Narcissist??? Naah. The idea is to watch everything through my sight and then convey to people through me in my writings.

11. When it comes to driving( and not parking)... I think I am the best one around... gimme anything that has an engine and has got wheels (for that matter I could drive a speedboat or hovercraft too)... and I ll rein the beast.

12. I really think that I could do a Jenson Button/Sebastian Vettel with proper training for a year... Dad are you listening??

13. When I used to be a child, I used to maintain a scrapbook with pictures of Cars and Bikes, of course the good imported ones, cut from various magazines and newspapers. I always had a hunch I’ll get atleast half of them if not all. I still believe in that hunch!

14. I am reticent towards new people. But once I break the ice.... gawwd you would rather like to go back to the time before.

15. I haven’t yet figured correctly on my phone how to send someone’s number to someone else... I mean often it happens the other way round.

16. I used to be a bully at my school with some people. Once one of my teachers found out and infront of the whole class told me in a subtle tone, “ Aayush, It’s good to know you got such a facet too... but choose your preys wisely.”

17. I used to be very good photographer but no-cameras-in hostel-life rule at my school ruined my photography skills.

18. I hate people who puke regularly after having a booze. I don’t hate them for throwing up.... I hate them for overestimating their body metabolism or rather say... their going overboard in the show of virility.

19. I used to hate Kolkata, if not more then not less either, than I hate Rakhi Sawant. But after the last two trips, the hatred has thinned down like Kareena Kapoor did with her figure. But no... It is still not Size Zero.

20. I think Macbook is the best laptop ever made and Apple is the best brand ever. I still believe in iOS more than Android.

21. I also believe I could be a good ad-maker. Alyque Padamsee is my ideal. And her daughter is ohhhh-my-gawwwdd-I-will-give-my-left-hand-for-her kinda cute.

End of Part 1
A Request: See the Rubik's cube in the picture? Then please tell me how appropriate was the image to this post!!

Thank You...!

2010-10-27T22:36:00.000-07:00

It has been a while. Still I'll give it a shot.
Place :Munger, Year: Don't remember exactly. Anything between 1992-94.

The melas we used to visit during Durga Pujas. Soon, too soon, I ended up on father's shoulders, tired of taking the gauntlet through the crowd. When I was old enough to comprehend, my father told me once, "You're kind of metro-living material, the likes of incidences as above being of his cues to the observation. But it turned out I proved him wrong at least on that front. And boy he must be the one most delighted of all. A little more time and I was the most agile walker among all with whom I shared my childhood. I remember Didi calling me from behind to go a little slow or at few, forlorn times, pun intended, "catch up boy". Anything on my mind and my pace wouldn't qualify to be called as one. But why frigging walking be the mundane subject for today's piece of shit? Okay. I'll try and dish out another anecdote. There was a seniors of ours in the college. Always a treat to talk to, bakar with, booze with – you just name it. For, he was the best cricketer of the college and also among the branch toppers. Turns out I wasn’t the only secret fan of him. One fine day a friend of mine, who thought of him on similar lines, asks me whether I have noticed his swagger. Always so AGILE. Get-set-go-for-any-frigging-thing-that-may-come-in-the-face attitude. I said yes, I have.
And a meek voice followed saying, "I was like him once". He shook his head with a big NAAAH!! That day I realised the serpentine change is already flowing in my veins. I wanted to change that. But the will wasn't enough I must say rather blaming the college environment. Still I tried by taking a responsibility which wanted me to be dynamic, very dynamic. I guess I discharged them well enough. Still the swagger wasn't reclaimed. One month after the college, at home, and I am still a laidback-lackadaisical-at-everything bugger. But, surprisingly during those dark hours of mine at the college, I made a decision and I stuck to it until the last moment. That was to join Infy. That was far from my goal, my interest being the analytics stuff. One fine weekend I appeared for the recruitment test for such a company. For the first time in my life, GD turns out to be my nemesis. I come back disheartened & dejected to my room at the Infy campus. Friends immediately pay a visit to my room, make a little fun out of me. Purely jovial intentions I hope!! Monday is a test & I get on again with the training life of mine!

And, today while I was WALKING back to the hostel, I eavesdropped (purely unintentional) on an eve saying, "I always see that guy hurrying and scurrying, ALWAYS". I wanted to turn back and say, "I'll take that as a compliment beautiful". But who wants to turn back. Don't know about you. But definitely not ME! Don't know if it's too premature to say this but still, "Thank You Infy".
P.S.: I wrote this nearly one n half months before... I am posting it the day I lost my 5 streak.. the second last module.. how ironical..!

LSD: Movie Review

2010-04-12T23:48:00.001-07:00

wrote this one for our college magazine... dunno will be selected by our revered editor or not...

Cast : Anshuman Jha, Shruti Raj Kumar Yadav, et al.
Director: Dibakar Banerjee
Rating: 4.0/5

LSD: Lysergic acid diethylamide. One of the most potent narcotic and one of the expensive. On the contrary, this one was not that expensive of a movie. But it was a potent one. It took me to such a high that I had to take a break. If you like actor wooing the actress, some naach-gana at exquisite locations around the world, some action in the middle then chances are negligible, better say none, you will like this one. But if you like reality being thrust into your face, or you like phrases “cut the crap” & “call a spade a spade (or better say... don;t call a spade a spade, call it a shovel)” in letter and spirit, I hope you will love this one with your life. Dibakar Banerjee’s third film on the trot which made me think.. again! Khosla ka Ghosla and Oye Lucky! Lucky Oye! were masterpieces. OLLY experimented with Paresh Rawal’s multiple ‘character’. This one, with the help of some shaky handycam and store camera shooting, brought out of the closet some of the human baser instinct which most of us deny to possess, Voyeurism being one of them.

Three stories loosely webbed into one. The first one: A small sleepy town with a tacky little film Institute in which Rahul and Shruti come close to each other during an amateur movie making. They see themselves as the reincarnation (that word being a stretch) of Raj and Simran from DDLJ while they film their own version of the movie. They end up marrying , of course, without the consent of girl’s family and hence the consequences. Some people should find the dialogues between the two people kind of cute.

The second one: Somewhere in the same town, cameras are being installed at a One-Stop-Store. The person responsible with the surveillance, Adarsh, is challenged by an acquaintance to hook up with one of the store girls. And, then follows the challenge to film her up in the ‘act’ with him (Adarsh) by the store cam, of course for a good some of money. Now, at this moment it is interesting to see the vacillations of a layman. The man apparently is in love and is in a desperate need of some money to pay off his debts and hence keep the gundas off. Will he or will he not??

The third one: In some other corner of the town, Prabhat, a TV journalist is sent on a sting operation by his TRP hungry lady-boss and he messes it up again. He is on a brink of a breakdown. The boss is not happy with his mixing of ethics with the dirty work, her wife also unhappy with the meagre income. He attempts a series of suicides and by some quirk of fate meets a girl, Naina, who has been asked for ‘compromising’ by a Hip-Hop Star, Luki Luka, in lieu of a video. Now, this one is the perfect story any journalist would give his left hand for. Prabhat and Naina come closer over a number of attempts to seduce, blackmail and threaten Luki.

The movie scores a big point in the area that it doesn’t forces any moral lessons down your thought. DB has provided the perfect food for thought. He won’t tell you how to gobble it, he won’t mind how you chew and digest it.

NY Times called LSD as the latest in series of avant-garde offerings stripping the Indian film industry of decades of inhibition. It is also said that when DB spoke his mother about the project, she didn’t repeat the name of the film because she didn’t want to use the word “Sex.” When one of my friends asked me How is the movie I answered, “It could be the story of you, me and everyone.”

In three simple words, Go Watch It!!!

The Obituary of my dearest friend

2010-04-10T11:59:00.000-07:00

Sideways Smiley Face : - )
(1987-2010)

Sideways Smiley Face died on April 11, 2010, surrounded by his loved ones. The cause of death was over-use and hence the resulting Sideways Disgruntled Face. Born on a Computer Science online bulletin board at Carnegie Mellon University, Mr. Face devoted his life to point out that previous sentence was meant to be funny. He also gained worldwide recognition for his tireless efforts as a glib substitute for the words “I’m amused”, howsoever rarity the phenomenon was. His other interests included frowning, winking, sarcastic smiling, and sticking his tongue out of his bracket mouth. He is survived by his brothers Sideways Surprised Face, Sideways Glasses Face, Sideways Angry Face, Sideways Monkey Face, Sideways Sonia Gandhi Face, Sideways Santa Face, Sideways Hungry Face, and, of course, his beloved wife, XOXO. In lieu of flowers, Mr. Face’s family has requested that people use actual words to express their feelings.

---Chuck 'Aayush' Lorre

Zilch: Part 2

2010-03-14T08:36:00.000-07:00

The following read is too insane and obviously stupid. Proceed on your own risk.

As soon as I wake up I try to find my face towel... I wipe out my face... ohh... I have been sweating like a pig... No fan running in the room (Now that’s another helluva story) with the oppressing heat of Jamshedpur has failed to affect me... I love the heat... I love getting appalled by it! I find my cellphone just beside my pillow which doesn’t has a cover for goddamn-I-don’t-know-how-many months. The time says 18.23. My laptop is also doing what it is supposed to do, beside my pillow, just sitting idle with the cricinfo website on the screen. Thanks to the auto-refreshing of the website my lappy is not as fortunate as me. Today’s Sunday HT is wasting itself at the other corner of my pillow. I want to take a peek at the score on the screen. But I am not willing enough. I find IPL just as quotidian as a harlot (no disrespect meant to them) looks for her customer. Fancy clothes, tempting-scantily-dressed cheerleaders, brilliant fireworks, bat bludgeoning the ball and et al. fail to move me out of my room. I try continuing with the article I was reading before I was put to sleep by the op-eds rhetoric. Fuck. I can’t. I am missing something. Apparently, I know what I am missing. I miss someone’s company. I miss waking up to calls. In the morning.... In the afternoon or In the evening as similar as today’s. I miss rumbling something insignificant in the mic while I picked up the call. I miss the reply which didn’t hit my ear-drums strong enough to register anything significant but still was music to them. I miss my long walks wearing my earphones. I miss calling her when I missed something in my life. I miss calling her when I felt the hole in my mind is getting deeper. I miss talking to her about the helpless dog I saw one day. Or the beautiful dawn and dusk.

What am I going to do for now?

I slip in a pair of jeans and one of my white tees. I love white. I also love black equally. They’re my favourite colours. I don’t know why! Probably I can’t appreciate white until I understand black. I wish I could have understood that before... before it was too late. But it wasn’t my fault only. Was it? I dunno again.

So, I splash some water on my face. Good Lord, there is no light in the bathroom. Otherwise I would have seen my face. And, worse my eyes.

I walk down the staircase and proceed towards the mess. I ask Baba for the evening chai. And here it comes. Not without its complimentary stuff. I take a drag. Long one. Black & White.

I miss you. Dearly.

C’mon man!! You’re not that stupid. You’re not that sentimental. It is all business. And, LN Mittal (and so did many) once said, “There’s no place for sentiments in business.”

Indi-Con!

2009-12-11T14:18:00.000-08:00

Hey there everyone... see that adjoining pic? That's a simple pic of an Invitation for Proposal.. for the sake of making some good infra out there. I vividly remember someone calling me a cynic and a pessimist. My answer was, "I am so big of an optimist that I look out for tenders in the newspaper so that I can have some pleasure (and an assurance) on there's something going positive over there in India ". That said, can you folks pick out the odd thing in the pic now? The Con! Okay... lemme explain...
Check the Section meant for two-laning... km 0.000 to 77.000 on NH-77. Now check the length in km... frigging 85kms... if I am doing the maths right it shouldn't be more than 77.000 itself. Now I know why people are opting for PSUs these days... the 6th pay commission will more be a cushion for the taxpayers' money they would rake up from the extra 8 kms.
Now girl... is that a pessimist's eye or an eye for detail?

GOD???

2009-11-07T12:40:00.000-08:00

I’m an atheist. Atleast an agnostic. A wise man once told me that we’re all Gods in drag. I like that. Sometimes when I’m in a public place or sitting at Yash-Complex staircase, I’ll watch people walking by and I’ll silently say to myself, “He’s God. She’s Great. He’s... God help him. She’s... God’s beauty. She’s God’s Blunder”. Before long I always find myself feeling a warm affinity for these strangers...especially the she one’s. The experience is even more powerful when I do this while observing a person (again she) who is clearly suffering... suffering with a blunder of a bloke. On occasion I’ll test my little spiritual practice by logging on to Google News or even DC++ or even to aankho-dekha-kaano-suno accounts about college(un)matches. Within minutes... yes u guessed it right zippy... I become an atheist.
....Charles AAYUSH Darwin!

30 Good Reasons To Make A Journey!!!

2009-05-23T10:04:00.001-07:00

Just came back from an errand to New Delhi... here goes the list of 30 things worth mentioning...err... infact not worth mentioning...actually... it’s up to you people to decide....

1st. As we (there’re a cupla friends more with me) reach the Tatanagar station we come to know that the train is late by an hour... not a good start to a long journey but by the Indian rail standards quite punctual.

2nd. We find a place at the platform, dump our luggage and Anupam & me come back to platform no.1 to check their ticket status. Thankfully, there’s get confirmed; mine was already and i guess it gave me more respite than them.

3rd. As we take a stroll outside the station, Anupam comments after espying for a moment or two on two girls, “Some girls look whorish by their visages”. I ‘appreciate’ his analytical mind and then get back to the platform.

4th. My surmise that there’re better chicks in sleeper proves itself true again. In my compartment there’re two Oriyas and a Rajasthani family which has a comely gal on rolls too.

5th. Vishal is in S-2 and me in S-4. I find him and then a bit of loose talks... n then he breaks the etiquette of public responsibility... I cover for him keeping a guard for that rapacious T.T.E or that heavily despised indian policeman. He did this for 5 times in the entire journey and i covered for him resulting in a total saving of 1000 bucks (@ Rs.200/- per offence). You really, really owe me Vishal.

6th. Vishal is playing beep-beep wth a gal... i mean SMS-SMS... she asks him, “ are there any NSPs around” with a customary ‘hehe’ at the end. Vish refers to encyclopedia aayush... it says a common noun referring to Nain Sukh Prapti... Now you owe me one more Vish...

7th. This is 16th May, the day of poll results. Vishal informs me about the UPA victory and I am celebrating from core.... proved papa wrong again when it comes to politics. But what I didn’t expect was Congress alone would reach so close to absolute majority. Three cheers for the Indian Voters..pst..pst... m not among them.

8th. I come back to my seat, while I wipe off the newspaper’s news top to toe, the aroma of Rajasthani pickles starts tickling my still-human sensors. They’re really irresistible but alas, i gotta resist. Another option to ward them off is Vishal’s stick’s smoke and I go for it again.

9th. I take a 3-hour ‘nap’ and then come down to the window seat. The train makes an unscheduled stop at a halt called ‘Phesar’. There’s a huge motley crowd in front of the station master’s cabin. Thanks to the great Indian inquisitiveness I found out that someone fell from a train and injured (or severed.. I am not sure on this) his leg... he was being taken to the nearest place where facilities are available. While he was taken into the S-3 i got a look of his lower half... the green cloth of the stretcher was drenched with blood... now transformed into a colour which I can only describe as morbid. I never thought that one day (only 3 days later ) I would identify with this incident so much.
For next two hours there were no hawkers, no passengers sauntering through the vestibules because of the above incident. Actually that incident had blocked there way...no one dared to go through that macabre view so closely or was it something else... like a sense of responsibility or empathy or sympathy???

10th. I get down at Mughlasarai... get some stuffs for the ‘Paapi paet’...and while we see off Anupam, DJ informs me that Ram Vilas Paswan lost from Hajipur and Reverend Lalu from Patliputra... hurrah... chalo it proves even Biharis can perceive the change brought by Nitish Kumar.

11th. Its 16th May, my so called x’s b’day... albeit a bit late realisation... I call her waiting to be greeted (??? its her b’day y shud she greet me... chuck it yaar..too confused!!!) by her sweet voice only to be welcomed by an electronic voice informing the cell is switched off... I message her and it gets delivered... I call again n still it’s switched. A mystery. Isn’t it?? She and I are good friends now who call each other on b’days... she calls on mine n me on hers... such good friends... who save each others’ monies!!!

12th. I spend some hours trying to savour the pickles aroma again as it’s dinner time but that oriya spoils it with his bananas... he’s a fruit freak... he ate 13 cucumbers on the way.... n sorry I didn’t count the bananas. I buy an egg biryani meal that costs me 50 bucks... save those two eggs there was nothing else on which I could console myself with my spent money. I resolve not to eat them on my return journey.

13th. Mine is an upper berth... i always prefer them... no jhanjhats yaar... I go to sleep only to be waken up on 3.30 am to found my arm dangling but stretched towards the berth opposite to mine... I take them back immediately and thank my luck that her dad didn’t see... or else... By the way it’s necessary to clear the air... believe me... I didn’t do it intentionally...

14th. I wake up at 6. The suburbs of capital look dirtier... and at the same time sophisticated. Better roadways, flyovers, metro rails, etc. But the number of shanties has increased outta proportion... Mrs. Sheila Dikshit... now deal with these too. I hope you people don’t get complacent after an outright victory in assembly as well as union polls.

15th. I take an autorickshaw to Janakpuri West... and I fell in love with this new New Delhi. Traffic streamlined... three phases of metro complete which has taken a heavy load off its roads... new green low floor buses... a greener cleaner Delhi. Kudos to everyone associated with these changes.

16th. I find the hotel pre booked by papa and as I pay the rickshaw driver see those 3 red coloured stars...
thanks papa... 'gadha janm utar gayi'....yipeee.... I wonder I might be from that elite clique of few persons who travel in sleeper class and stay in a 3 star hotel.

17th. I use the blue line and the yellow line of the metro for the first time while I accompany didi to the New Delhi Railway Station and for the second time while returning to Janakpuri. It’s dirt cheap... 14 bucks for one side of the journey. An auto would have costed me atleast 220 bucks. While the blue line is over the ground... running on the bridges... the yellow line is totally underground. There’s a red line too which I used on my last visit. And the silver lining is that you get to save your monies and spend on other things. Now, as I’ve got the full idea of metros. definitely I’ll save more money on next visit.

18th. While I was in the queue at the New Delhi Metro Station, a gal, an absolute damsel in black, approaches the person just in front of me (at this moment he’s just second to the person getting the token) for a ticket to Rohini while indicating towards the looooooong queue behind... that person refuses and she comes to me... and guess wot... I oblige. I get my token first and then hers (in order to show that m not that chivalrous... as a fact of matter... m not), hand her the token and the change, she says a thanks with a scintillating smile and my answer... “I would have welcomed you had there been nothing wrong in this”. This time it’s not a smile but a giggle instead. Oh... I am flattered... but wot to do... you have to move on... so I do the same towards platform no.1.

19th. On the returning trip... I don’t have my reservation confirmed... status is W/L 31. After a bit of haggling with the TTE for a berth in A.C 3 and his absolute denial because of non-availability of one (actually he was telling the truth this time) I carry on a reconnaissance of the sleeper coaches and see a solitary berth empty. It’s in S-1, Side Lower... I dump my baggage and as the train chugs along try to sleep. It’s 10.20 pm.

20th. I wake up @ 12 & as I change my tee wet with sweat... my specs is on floor... pick them up & shove them in the bag and sleep again only to waken up by TTE to whom I tell about my reservation status and thinking everything is hunky dory from now I go for my sleep.

21st. I’m again arisen by a man with a blackberry and a dadi amma who says that it’s his seat. I oblige and then search for my specs in the bag only to find its left lens missing. I get into a frantic search but I’m not able to locate it. I chuck the search and go after the TTE.

22nd. I find him in the coach next and ask him for a berth and he’s not going to budge. I keep poking him and he gets ready... of course not for nothing. I take a few seconds to decide whether to compromise with my ‘usuuls’ or not but for the second time in the day I do keeping in view the 23 hours journey and my health status. I hand him a Rs. 50 note and he takes it (my act) as an offence. I try wid a couple of Rs. 10 notes more but no break through yet. I ask for the price and he blurts 200. I try with 150 + some explanations like am a student et al and nailed the deal...yo man!!! Seems, for the moment, am not bad at it if not good either. He issues me berth no. 72 (Side Upper) of the same coach I was previously in.

23rd. I go to sleep on MY berth after I clear it of the infiltrations.

24th. I wake up at 7.30 am only to find large number of peoples in the coup. One of them is an Oriya family.... parents and two child. I brush my teeth, wash my face and then take (read make) a seat. Buy a newspaper and after my ass gets tired of making adjustments I go back to MY berth. I go into another slumber while am finishing off the newspaper.

25th. I wake up again and then another TTE gives me the good news that this berth is mine only upto ‘Sasaram’ and myself thinks that it’s better to get another cupla hours of sleep.

26th. As the train enters Bihar the train gets more crowded... Sasaram comes and MY berth is no more mine but I still get to sleep for some more time thanx to the generosity shown by the person who’s a SSB jawan.

27th. I get down after ‘Gaya’ when the crowd is lesser and take a side seat while the jawan goes to his or better put MY ex-berth. I buy a pack of egg biryani again, breaking my resolution taken on the previous journey, devour the meal (it has been nearly 16 hours since i ate anything) and hang around near the gates. I see off ‘Parasnath’ station (my ‘nanighar’) and then when ‘Gomoh’ comes call papa asking for the permission to come home (Gomoh being only a 30 minutes journey from ‘Dhanbad’). He replies in affirmative saying what’s there to ask and I say no not until next week. This frigging Vocational Training!!!

28th. The father of the Oriya family gets into a fit. At first I thought he was just entertaining his child but suddenly he gets very violent and his wife gives a shriek which tells us that something is wrong. We try our best to control him and I come to know that in these fits of epilepsy water should be avoided. I see his face contouring in an eerie way, his convulsions absolutely spine-chilling but keep myself calm in order to help him. He’s fine after 5 minutes but both his children quite in a shock.

29th. '2802 down Purushottam Express' arrives at ‘Bokaro Steel City’ (my alma mater’s place ) platform no. 2. Me, Aayush Anand get down to get a cake. I get it at the platform shoppee and as I pay the shopkeeper Rs. 15 the train has started to chug. I leave the change (Re.1/-) and as I get aboard the train (S-3) with my right leg on the train footsteps and the left on the platform, someone among 3-4 people behind me steps on my left floater from behind due to which my right foot is dragged back and it starts dangling in the space between the train and the platform. Atleast for 4 seconds while the train is moving, one foot on the platform and one in the vacuum. I bring myself up and successfully escape unhurt. People from behind insinuating towards my moderately low waist jean say in choir “Abhi Chaliye jaate style mein” (U would have gone 2 nowhere due to your tres jean ). I ignore all of them and with an invincible nonchalance walk towards the vestibule and get to my seat. Thankfully noone from my side of coach saw it or I would have been pestered all along the remaining journey.
I think the same nonchalance saved my life or better any amputation. The latter would have been more painful, dreadful, words I can’t even dream off..... Now, I came to totally identify with the person on the onward journey at ‘Phesar’ who was not that lucky.So far yet so close... or vice-versa... This time seems the luck (albeit sans the lady) is smiling on me. Hoping for some good marks this semester. People who know my parents are requested not to narrate this incident to them. I would be highly obliged to them for this favour.

30th. Two little secrets... I didn’t use the coach toilets for the entire returning journey.
I resolve never to wear low waist jeans in any forthcoming journeys, not even the moderate ones.

Tick-Tock to 11th April

2009-04-11T12:57:00.000-07:00

coming soon.....

I dunno...

2009-02-24T09:16:00.000-08:00

There's an eerie silence that daggers through my mind save two contrasting sounds; one a sparrow's chirping and other a fan overhead working through its years of service. This place, the 'Downs' part of NIT Jamshedpur was never supposed to be so silent. I haven't witnessed it ever before and I guess none would have ever nor would one ever wanna be a party to such an atmosphere. Reason: Two seniors were electrocuted on the penultimate day of our tech-fest. Moreover, two were severely injured in the unfortunate accident. Both of the deceased were quite popular among their mates and juniors alike, quite affable and of course talented (both of them landed with two jobs each). They're both poised (both were due to complete their four years of college life this may) to take another step on the ladder of their life when the tragedy struck. And it struck hard. I had rarely talked to them save a few chit-chat in the college canteen or at Jha ji's cigarette shoplette. But it still hurts. Just imagine the plot of their immediate friends and colleague with whom they spent their four most beautiful and cherishing years of their life. The irony of life starts thrusting its icicles into us only when we come close, too close to something called death. That day only just half an hour earlier, after i won in two competitions and lost in two, I told to one of my partners, " Today has been a mixed day for me". He replied, " For me it has been a wonderful one, two out of two". And it wasn't the same for those persons. I wish we could have given our luck to them. Moments before they're enjoying themselves to the fullest and before the end of that moment they came too close to their ends, close enough to be taken away from everyone, their very own people. They say life and death are balanced on a razor blade but I never knew the blade was so sharp. The college will limp back to its normal affair, if not in a week or two then in a month or twos time. The hullabaloo will be back in the college and today's silence will fade but one thing that is not going to wane is the wailings of their parents and their real friends.

The French Factory of Words...

2009-01-13T07:26:00.002-08:00

In this time of global meltdown( no "recession" mates... actually that's what we... err.. Greeks call euphemism), it is blasphemous to talk of a factory... but one factory that doesn't stops churning meticulously polished products is the factory of literature... it isn't constrained by anything but the ingenious and metaphysical thoughts which aren't constrained per se( wow.. seems am getting good at self-contradictory statements).
So when we talk of literature.... how could we not mention the french metaphysics and their exceptional fore-sightedness. A single word of theirs can define a person, an act or even substitute a full sentence. Okay... Okay am not gonna write about those ubiquitous words like deja vu, faux pas. But, sample this... 'cherchez la femme'... means there's certain to be a woman at the bottom of a problem or a mystery and continuing the intriguing ingenuity is our very desirous 'femme fatal' which literally means disastrous woman . I told you before... french people were too fore-sighted[;)]!!! If that wasn't enough sample this... 'coup de foudre'. My 9th grade cousin told me that he's in love. I asked how did it start? He answered with a disarming calmness and self-pride... it was a coup de foudre... what??
"I mean love at first sight"... he said.
to heck with you and your coup crap!!!
Actually this language provides us all the resources to use 'mot juste'(the most exact words or expression).
Still doubt me???
Okay...
If 'nouveau riche' is per se a sarcastic word for all those parvenu(s) out there...
'raison d' etre provides us the only reason for our existence....
as de rigueur requires us to be completely in vogue...
with the luxurious lifestyle of a 'bon vivant' without compromising with our 'comme il faut'.

Now, I must leave it here only as i plan to get some french fries at a 'brasserie'.
And as 'noblesse oblige' please leave 'billet-doux' at the end of this
'chef-d'oeuvre( sorry i don't know the antonym for this in french psst...psst).
.....aayush

Zilch

2008-11-07T14:03:00.000-08:00

Its 2.15 a.m. Ma computer is still on.... me prostrated in front of it... shaking my legs (a totally new experience for me)... like the babus in government offices... clicking on this icon.. then closing the application... then clicking on other... opening the internet browser an umpteenth time... checking whether anyone is online or not... giving another look at ma orkut homepage... refreshing it innumerable number of times... checking if my scrapbook has registered any increase... every time it refreshes... trying to be an eternal optimist though in the back of my mind i know the result... no... I'm not waiting for someone's scrap... forwarding, reversing and shuffling the songs in my itunes library... finally giving in... espying on the wallpaper for 2-3 minutes...no... more than that... it is too good...congratulating myself on my choice... it is just that i don't have anything to do... hahaa... the whole syllabus untouched like an untouchable child of medieval India... today's newspaper lying beside me... unfinished... yesterday only i told someone, " Newspaper are my best buddies since my childhood days since papa introduced me to them". One novel lying maiden at my messed-up "reading" table... that too of one of my favourite writers... check my orkut profile... hobbies: reading... to heck with that!!! Checking my cellphone... any missed calls... any new messages... unlocking and locking the keypad... after numerous vacillations... dialing the last dialed number... aborting the call... fed-up threw it on the...err ... I am not sure where did it dig itself a place...puff-by-puff another stick turns itself into ashes... but me... Ohhh.... lying like a vegetative growth... that stagnant growth... wow what an oxymoron!!! Not even wearing out... Just waiting for Mademoiselle Sleep to engulf me in hers... Now when she starts weaving her black magic, yawning without my hands to cover the mouth, I again console myself about tomorrow being a new day... promising a new start...

Ma raison d'etre... a cuppa coffee!!!

2008-11-03T08:03:00.000-08:00

Cool can be for the common man. Coffee shops can go from the 5-stars to the streets. The youth can go from the streets to the coffee shops. And chitchat about building 5-stars. Everybody can know what a cappuccino is. You can find one in Bharathpur. Coffee can can cease to be the domain of the intellectual and the south-indian traditionalist. It can cease to be a lifestyle drink. And become a lifestyle. 3500 people can get jobs. An investment banker can go back to the family business. A farmer can own a cafe. A cafe can help struggling farmers. A cafe can help struggling farmers. A cafe can brew a revolution. Coffee can wake you up. Coffee can drive me the whole day. Coffee can part lips for a puff of Classic. Coffee can heighten the adrenaline rush. Coffee can help getting a speeding ticket. Coffee can assuage minds after a banal HOD's lecture. Coffee can spill over someone's kurti and dish out an opportunity( to talk... you evil-minded). Coffee can help say something unsaid hitherto. Coffee can help find committment. A pitch battle can be fought over a cup of coffee. Coffee can help reinvent the fun of being single. Truly. A lot can happen over a coffee.
I run on only one thing... coffee... coffee... coffee... wot do you run on???

50% plagiarism and rest mine... it hurts but i have a cup of coffee to take care of it!!!!

One for the "Bongs"

2008-08-30T09:47:00.001-07:00

DISCLAIMER: This won't be a filigree of a writing. AVOID IF YOU ARE ONE OF THEM. But there are always some exceptions!!!

My association with them is quite long and dates back to the year '98 when i joined a boarding school which used to run under the tutelage of a Bengali Ashram trust. After half a decade of living with them which was characterized by me hectoring, bullying and haranguing them( lemme tell u a secret, its really irresistible to pull their legs ), they always helped themselves to intrigue me. And then two years of sharing the room with one was also quite an experience( although my roomie wasn't born and bred in west bengal, he had many innate qualities of one.

But what wakes me up from torpor and lessens my indolence to pick my pen is the two visits in last week i made to calcutta( or kolkata as they love to call and hear from others) , the home town of nearly every Bong i met. I'm still nonplussed and confused by the fact that how come each of them belong to "kolkata". Is the rest of West Bengal a Mars??? Not possible. Otherwise Ratan Tata would be having a field day at Singur. Anyways, getting back to point, those two visits provided me an intense insight into their core. If my memory is not failing me, i remember someone telling me that they have a great degree of veneration toward their women and are also much more cultured. For the first virtue, i guess, since they reserve half of the seats for "Ladys"( yes that was how it was spelt on the bus) they may be regarded as more respecting towards the fairer sex. But to me it painted another picture of hypocrisy, our religion in India. Now I'll narrate an incident which may put some light on how cultured they are. While i was returning to Howrah Railway station, i took a cab and to compound my problems( and later his own) the driver brushed against a Hyundai Getz. The owner parked his car in front of the cab, got out obviously infuriated and asked for compensation. When the cab driver didn't budge he took out a jack from his car's boot and gave him a last warning: Either part with all your money in the pocket or I'm going to smash your windscreen. And he did!!! and that too with his bare hands, then jack-started his no-more-virgin car and was outta sight. I had to get down on one of those maddening street and finally got another cab, after acquiescing to all his conditions, "kudi" minutes hence. And thanks to this, I missed my second train that day. This incident made my already unpleasant( that is quite a lesser word) visit to this dank and dirty metropolis more execrable.

Its not like Calcutta doesn't has anything commendable. Every menagerie has some creatures quite lovable. For example, look what calcutta has bestowed bollywood with: The formidable Sushmita Sen; Konkona Sen Sharma- great upcoming actress; evergreen MoonMoon Sen (and her daughter Riya Sen- nice "comme il faut" looks); Lara Dutta- killer looks; Koena Mitra- for she drives ma favourite car and the list is on.

The most exotic gift this city has endowed our nation with is the school of highly gifted writers and novelists be it Amitav Ghosh or Indrajit Hazra or Jhumpa Lahiri; again the list is endless. I guess its due to the host of highly-reputed schools it possesses and which helped this place to preserve the british english pedigree. By the way its time i end this bakwaas and catch a movie. Accha does anyone knows about tollywood movies??? Are they worth a "dekko"??? Please help if you people know even an iota.

Thanx for patient reading. Only verbal comments invited and not on my scrapbook...in the comment section please.

Just a moment.....there is a catch... you people won't believe.... one of ma best friends since class 8th is a bengali too... n what i simply love about them is the fervour and passion with which they love or hate things... but the worst part is they are too vascillating. Anyways.....

Au revoir kolkata.

2008-08-05T23:11:00.000-07:00

Her heart seems so close
but if you look close
you'll see,
its really made of gold
she fakes her smile and lives in denial
she is torn and emotionally worn
she sits alone.
not understanding what she's done wrong.
but now,
she sits alone,
With her eyelids vacillating in a tumultuous tone...

2008-08-05T23:00:00.000-07:00

Days burn down to NIGHT
Burns the edges of my soul
In the night I break into
sparks of sun
and become fires end
The dust of bones

In the night I see
The real concealed
In the days bright LIE
EYES stitched shut
White TEETH SMILE

SLEEP Walks
AND Talks
AND FEET
Mark TIME
TO the drumless beat...

the above piece is not one of my creations.... but one of ma favourites.

Requiem for my dream:

2008-04-29T04:45:00.000-07:00

It’s my birthday today. A day to celebrate, jump and leap across the line. An air surrounds you... very salubrious. But what is the case this time. This day brought a tonne on my mind this time. I couldn’t fathom. As the early morning gold-glitters entered my room through the louvre and caressed my novel prostrated towards me, I seethed with contempt embossed with jealousy for the rays; not only because they conjugated with the beautiful book but for the way had they mocked me. One even taunted,” Look we’re the ray of hope...” Ray of hope! Dreams translate into hopes. And for the few blessed ones, they dawn into reality. Unfortunately, I’m not one of them.

Requiem: the oxford says... a Mass for the soul of dead. I infer a congregation where we pray for the peace of the soul of dead.

Now as I don’t believe in praying, the only act I can perform in the requiem for my dreams is lament... that the only thing I’m capable of. As I take the pen in my fingers to commence this piece, a call interrupts. A number flashes and I get to know I won’t be able to scribble for at least half the day.

A number I expected as early as 0000hrs. But I forgot, it was asinine to expect that. It’s not your prerogative lad. A voice greets me with those ubiquitous words you hear every birthday. While I expected an utterly, butterly, warmly voice I come through a hold, sold, cold one. Coup de grace. Final assault. Icicles thrusted into me would have felt better. The voice asks me why I am sounding low, I should cheer up.... I lie–I was asleep –when I didn’t for more than a minute the whole night. I want to explode at top of my voice,” It’s not my prerogative to cheer up.” This was just the valedictory show. Let’s go back to the start line.

Once a friend of mine told me,” You got to accept what you get on the plate.” I argued hard, harangued him sharply for his school of thoughts. You’re right chum. Today, I too believe in laissez faire. Won’t give you much gyp! What made me to put my faith in this? Last 3-4 years. First you miss out the school of your choice by a whisker. Then the precincts of a fort, for which every students aspires, mocks on you; again for less than a whisker. Seems I’m quite regular at missing buses. A motif of my life.... is becoming a motive. I dig a moat around me.

Once through this ruined city did I pass

I espied on a lonely bird on a bough and asked

‘What knowest thou of this wilderness?’

It replied: ‘I can sum it up in two words:

Alas! Alas!’

With asinine askance i ask again

‘What name was this city bestowed with?’

It replied: ’don’t you know, you insane?

Your soul! Your soul!’

I fill that moat with the scariest of serpents, with largest of leviathans, with the most rapacious of reptiles. No one would ever dare to peep into me. Nor would I would take one at the world outside. The world inside the precincts of my world was assuaging initially. It was sedative. But it was just eyewash. How long sedation works? At long lost I saw a ray. It burnt me. And from ashes... I tried to rise; like a phoenix. The gazelle eyes promised me my emotional health. But how could I know, they flattered to deceive. My mistake.... i aspired for a great friendship and nothing more!!!The pieces of puzzle looked jumbled up to me but how pristinely they were placed. It read.... you are over... yet again. I pondered hard over it... what went wrong??? Were my intentions misjudged??? Or someone is in a relationship in which it is blasphemous to be friends with someone else??? But i failed( as usual) to get an answer.

This time I lock myself in the gaol of my fort. I would wake up every morning with an eyewash... literally... to wash those dead dreams if they come again to haunt me.

How downhearted was me at night!

Whatever came to my lips became a cry for help

When I started on the path of life, I was like fire;

Now it’s ceased I’m a heap of ashes on pyre.

leading from the "back"

2007-10-22T07:38:00.000-07:00

A month back we had a strike in our college....NIT Jamshedpur... we're demanding better facilities we very much deserve being in one of the premier engineering colleges of India. Obviously we had our representatives as in other strikes . As i was sitting beside one of my friends...his cell rang.... it was his father...an alumnus of the same college....more than aware of the problems we are facing( facing such common probs has become a pedigree of our institution.... i think we still have an outsstanding placement records because companies coming here for bagging up students know d probs well enough n so they hire merrily knowing these creatures can adjust anywhere )....oh yes ....as he talked his father he narrated our case...he kept the phone in his pocket n i asked instinctly..what did he say??? Pat came the reply... don't lead beta... tum aage to nahi ho naa beta??? Well...very well...your son said no.
It was not his father only.... our whole country saturated of "responsible" citizens would utter the same words. We criticize leaders of misgovernance, corruption, etc etc... but when it comes to lead even in a college strike we take a back seat....shame on you india...hypocritic india!!!