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Showing posts from 2005

Best of Seinfeld 2

Jerry and George sit in a booth, discussing the previous night. George fingers his chin thoughtfully.

GEORGE: The same outfit?

JERRY: The exact same outfit.

GEORGE: How many days was it between encounters.

JERRY: Three.

GEORGE: Three days. Well, maybe you caught her on the cusp of a new wash cycle. You know, she did laundry the day after she met you, everything got clean and she started all over again.

JERRY: Possibly, but then shouldn't the outfit only reappear again at the end of the cycle?

GEORGE: Maybe she moved it up in the rotation.

JERRY: Why? It's our first date, she's already in reruns?

GEORGE: Very curious.

JERRY: Indeed.

GEORGE: You know, Einstein wore the exact same outfit every day.

JERRY: Well, if she splits the atom, I'll let it slide.

(Setting: Monks Cafe. George and Jerry are sitting across from each other)

GEORGE: Let me ask you something. When you go into a store, does it bother you that they make the security guard just stand there all day?




Our generation barely experienced the television revolution. Lucky ones, like moi, had cable TV since class 6th. (don't squirm please - no smugness intended).But most of us only briefly soaked the beauty of Friends and Philips Top 10 before we were whisked away for our graduation. School stuff didn't have anything to do with cable television. We were the captive audience for the broadcasters of Doordarshan - Chandrakanta, Alif - Laila, Mahabharat and similar shows had its fan base in the 80's kids. In retrospect, these seem like terrible productions, with archaic quality and sluggish storylines. But we loved them. I remember my friend dressing up as Kroor Singh for some function (I of course, being the non-DD-kid, found it to be quite uncool).

Email, internet, mobiles and the whole networking phenomenon completely missed us. Life had school friends. Life had neighbourhood pals. Some were common, and I couldn't have cared less about that fact. We shared lunches, punche…

A Requiem for Moochie

You were great while you lasted
Always looking so falsely plastered
You slowly grew from thin to thick
But not really bushy as I had imagined
Some said UGH! and some said AAH!
And I said to hell with you all

I never knew what to do with you
Did I want to be an Uncle or a coo-chee-poo
Why was it so obnoxious to have a moochie
Was the man symbol not even a bit sexy ?

As you lie there in the sink
It really makes me think
Will I regret this step
Am I enjoying this new chikna look
Questions of this kind
Will only be answered with time
Some will say UGH! and some AAH!
And I'll say to hell with you all

Chachi and me

A twin purchase at Sarojini Nagar Market.

Neal n Nikki

Welcome to Canada.
Step into Van Couver - the land of promiscuous bouncy girls who are eager to jump and jiggle for our hunk Neal.
I am the Neal
I am the man

For all the pre-hate I had built up for Uday Chopra, his role in the movie turned out to be quite subdued. Well, he did pretend to be a cool-unperturbed-football playing-female magnet. But by the end of the movie, someone had successfully surpassed him in his IQ - Irritation Quotient. And do you want to know who that is ?
She's Nikki Bakshi
Sweet and Sexy
Always Rocking
Hot and Happening

They say that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. I've got another wisecrack for you - The way to a woman's stardom is through her breasts. Meet Tanisha Mukherji. Did she act well ? I have no idea. You see...She was mouthing dialogues. Some might have even made sense. But her clothes were amm...amm...Sadly, that is all we males noticed in the 120 minute brassiere commercial. They were everwhere. I tried. I…


Please go through this first (thank you Sandeep) : PM at NYL convention
We all know what AIDS is. We, the smooth middle or upper-middle or middle-upper or upper-class of society, blessed with telephones, broadbands and access to the world's information know how deadly it is. We, the public/private/sainik/government school bred population, know that a condom can arrest the spread of the disease...So ?
How does the message penetrate to the groups that need it badly ? How will the sex workers (the profession unfortunately is illegal in our country) learn the basics ? This certainly isn't the medium. There is no bleak possibility of a truck driver, the major customer of this trade (and hence the disease), reading this post. So what can we do ?
I felt exactly the same way after watching Matrubhoomi. It was a commendable effort by the team. But I AM not the perpetrator of these acts. So how did it help the cause, the fact that I (and many other IIT brains) got disturbed after watchin…

Best of Seinfeld

(A few Seinfeld quotes will be put up here periodically so that at least a few of those sitcom cynics relent and start watching what the world and I consider The greatest TV show of all time )

George : "Let me ask you something. What do you do for a living, Newman?"
Newman : "I'm a United States postal worker."
Jerry : "Aren't those the guys that always go crazy and come back with a gun and shoot everybody?"
Newman : "Sometimes..."
Jerry : "Why *is* that?"
Newman : "Because the mail never stops. It just keeps coming and coming and coming, there's never a let-up. It's relentless. Every day it piles up more and more and more! And you gotta get it out but the more you get it out the more it keeps coming in. And then the bar code reader breaks and it's Publisher's Clearing House day!"
(Seinfeld - The Old Man)

(Jerry,George meet Marla, Stacy)
Marla : Jerry.
Jerry : George, Marla.
George: Marla.
Marla : George. Jerry,…

Blog Symbiosis

A few days back, a friend of mine bluntly asked me, "I don't think many people read your blog, do they ?" While I grappled to find a nice defensive answer, he added, "I mean - I don't see many comments." I was perplexed, slightly dented and wondered if the shift from mailing to blogging was actually a good idea.

A blog is similar to shouting out to the world - your views, stories, pictures..anything. A better analogy would be that every day 15,000 individuals are getting their own TV channel. But what good is a TV channel if nobody watches it ?

Hence it becomes important in the blog world (and possibly the real world too) to develop a mechanism of - "I'll scratch your back, you scratch mine."

There are 2 reasons why traffic may be low in a blog :

1) It stinks - bad content (although the reverse may not be true)
2) The owner has not developed an active BC (blog circle)

Assume that a person P is a fortnight old in the blogging world and wants to…


It is amusing that BBC decides to use this picture

to represent India as an emerging power...

But uses this picture

to describe the same status for China...


original article can be viewed here.


Tagged by Sudarshan

1. flip open a dictionary and point to a word / get word of the day from
2. type the word into google images.
3. pick an image that strikes you.
4. write a 10 line riff off the image.
5. use the word or the meaning at least once within the first 5 lines.
6. tag 3 other bloggers on your list.

solidus \SAH-luh-dus\ Audio icon • noun
1 : an ancient Roman gold coin introduced by Constantine and used to the fall of the Byzantine Empire
*2 : a mark / used typically to denote "or" (as in and/or), "and or" (as in straggler/deserter), or "per" (as in feet/second)

The question haunts me repeatedly
Do I belong here or there ?
A solidus to my two selves
fabricates this impervious wall

I can't run back to my family
I can't forego this silly royal crown
A cartload of solidus
Won't relieve this anguish of mine

Where did I come from ? Where do I go ?
Where do you come from Cotton Eye Joe ?

3 people I tag :

Seven Nuggets

Oh god. another stupid introspection.

7 things to do before I die

1) Bungee Jump
2) Meet the Seinfeld Cast (provided they are alive then)
3) Earn lots of money
4) Learn how to buy happiness
5) Understand modern art and all that shit
6) Open a restaurant(s)
7) Savour all kinds of music of the world

7 things I can do

1) Drown myself in good music
2) Swim Decently
3) Savour a cup of tea
4) Remember numbers,lyrics,tunes,people well
5) Tune my sense of humour to many forms
6) Listen.Talk.Both
7) Go crazy/dance/sing/laugh like no one's watching

7 things I say the most

1) Accha ? Serious ?
2) Yaaaaa...But..
3) Hahahahahahaha
4) Crap
5) Moron
6) What the hell!
7) Okkkke

7 things I can't do

1) Hide my happiness or any other emotion
2) Feel anger for a prolonged period
3) Not be cynical
4) Ignore off-beat or off-tune performances
5) Take a hint
6) Be generous to stingy individuals
7) Play cricket or any other sport well

7 things that attract me to the opposite sex

1) Looks (the whole bloody anatomy)
2) Inte…

Hip Hop

The masses have no clue what's in store for them. Suddenly, because of a series of voluntary actions, the cruel forces of gravity take control of everything. Chests heave, asses jiggle and one's body is exposed to a limit only short of nudity. Any rudiments of fat, obesity and paunches that one had effectively lost or hidden under tactful layer of clothes gain the attention of onlookers. Oh god! He's skipping!

I don't disavow it. There is something distinctly wrong with the whole sport. Some want to deny this activity even a membership of the sports club. The root of its problem lies it its actions (Karma, if that helps) - there are no limits to break. Take for instance the game of cricket. A batsmen can whack the ball to distances unbound by the field; Oooh..nice shot! While skipping, I genuinely can't do much. I can skip. I can skip faster. A bit smoother. That's about it.

There is a putative belief that Skipping is for the opposite sex. The moment one tries t…

Kill K3

Here's the question that has really wracked my brain. If you were given an option to kill one and only one of these three individuals, which one would you pick ?

1. Kumar Sanu
2. Shahrukh Khan
3. Karan Johar

Any strong reasons supporting the same are welcome.
I love the confusion that overwhelms people when they are presented this googly. I hope the net doesn't ruin that.
Think hard.

Bubbly Times

Denunciation of Advertisments is one of my favourite pastimes. Some of them are truly spectacular. But the rest...well..

It is very probable that this para will take an ugly turn and no longer convey the opinion(s) it was supposed to. So here's my primary feeling - I HATE SHAHRUKH KHAN. phew ! Lets continue.
There is an awkward feel to this ad. It seems to say, 'We, the owners of Pepsi, can put up any kind of sh*t and people will still call it cool and buy more of our stuff.' I have always been a loyal Pepsi guy. It probably has something to do with the red colour of Coco-cola, or the fact that at the age of 13 it was really important to have strong opinions. The ones that didn't matter didn't change and hence eight years later I still frown at Coca-Cola fans.
There is something quire irritating about the smug female in the snug pepsi shirt ; or the primitive frame-animation technique used in the ad ; or the great Shahrukh Khan himself. It has provoked quite a few h…

La da dee dum...

It is that time of the year again....

When bathing is no longer a priority, a necessity or a part of the morning routine...
When the fan is dispensable, when ONE is as good as TWO and THREE is a bit excessive...
When a stubbed toe is slightly more painful than before....
When normal water is too warm and frij-jal is too cold...
When not wearing a jacket is neither manly nor wise, but wearing one is silly...
When I search for my slippers more frequently...
When tea can be savoured and sipped immediately after it is served...
When I no longer need to say, "Verma ji, aaj badi garmi hai..nahi ?"

ahh...winter is on its way...


The decision to subscribe to ET was a cold-calculated decision. Delhi Times had not printed the legs of Mallika Sherawat for quite a while and my brain longed for some pointless matter. Of course, there was this whole mumbo-jumbo about Economic Terms making sense to people after a fortnight of regular ET perusal. It's been a fortnight. I think the paper is cool (if that word is still legal & functional), despite the caramel semblance. Supplements add weight just enough to justify the two rupee tag. It consists of a front page, displaying more colour than its kins. The centerpage, similar in format to TOI, has opinions of heavyweights on serious topics. Somehow, I get a feeling that the news is recycled....

Sure, the stocks are up. But everyone knows that 'what goes up must come down'. T.V's are cheaper. Gold is dearer. I recall televisions being cheaper a few years ago. And I remember Sharma aunty cribbing about the price of gold at that time too. So what has change…

What is and Isn't

What is more disturbing than the poor kid on the road who doesn't have access to basic amenities ? A panju aunty passing by the same kid with an empathetic countenance. Whats more phoney than the panju aunty ? An aunty (panju, or any other brand) feeding the helplessly corpulent gou-mata every tuesday. What is more annoying than a generous gou-mata blocking the traffic ? The Dilli waala bellowing his horn at the juncture. What is more maddening than a Dilli Horn ? The root of the traffic jam effecting the din. Whats more annoying than traffic lights ? The poor kid on the road, who doesn't have access to basic amenities, begging for money.

Moral of the story : The poor kid is the root of all problems.

Before you nod and draw some more obscure morals from the above piece, here's another :)

Isn't it better to look away
Than to look and do nothing ?
Isn't it easier to be selfish
Than to pretend that you aren't ?
Isn't it better to get rich
and then be philanthropic

Bookish Love

As a last attempt of resusitating my ailing CAT preparation, I boldly went and bought a book specializing in QA (Quantitative Ability). As you may have guessed, crunching numbers was my forte a few years back. But now I struggle with quanta and relish whining about it. It is authored by R.S Aggarwal, a name JEE victors are acquainted with.

Mind you, days without the rigour of a 9 to 6 office routine have their peculiar liabilities, once we accept and eliminate the obvious advantages. Kharagpur's pictureque campus have become unbearably rosy in my visions. And this re-painting happens primarily during my preparation. A few days back, I decided that a new spark was needed and did the good deed yesterday...

I cradled the book quite a few times these two days, doing what I've expalined above. Buying this book was no easy decision. When I offered a few minutes to this topic, it occured to me that it wasn't any different from embracing a girfriend in my life. Flummoxed ? Well that…


The tents are surreptitiously making their way onto the wide Dilli roads. It is heartening to realize that unlike the city of joy, this city isn't going to come to a halt in the ensuing week. It's just the traffic thats going to be nudged to the pavements.

The disgust caused by the existing jhuggis and the ones growing under the bridges, near the flyovers and along the roads is quite similar to the mental bubble that bursts everytime a tent embellished with red-glittery sprouts on my route. They look so pretentious, so full of politics and crap. My glasses are the exact opposite of rosy-eyed. They are bloody. I see corruption in the sweaty pujari, bogus faith in the devotees and feel impartial malevolence for anyone involved in the drama.

There's no stopping them. No place to scream my head off. No thaana where I can complain about the disturbance, or the excessive noise that'll soon engulf every residential area.

It is tough to explain to an atheist the beauty of the god…

The Seventh Sense

As I proudly displayed the ppt presentation to my aesthetically challenged boss, the slide trickled down from the top, like the matrix, the tiny particles taking their respective places and forming the title page. The template was carefully chosen from a bunch of 'Andhra' related images. The subject, since you all are unaware, is a building complex for the Govt. of Andhra Pradesh, creatively titled "Andhra Centre". My boss stared at it and said, "ye niche kya kya photo lagaaya hua hai ?" As I patiently sold my idea, I could feel a glaze over his eyes, his brain refusing to comprehend the aesthetics of it. He said, "haan haan...wo drawing sab lagao, phir dekhta hoon"...The wall of the seventh sense, an entity as old as time.

I can imagine the stone age maverick Tim, sharpening his stone tools with his stone knife and heating the stone tip on the flames of the stone fire. As he put his final touches to the disparate image of 'Man Killing Animal&#…

Crow Water and Stones

[Dedicated to Doel Ghorai, the sparkling star of Sept. 2005]

You know, finding old pals of yesteryear doesn't have the same charm anymore. Where are the scented/non-scented letters, the euphoria of long years of absence, the delight of hearing a friend's voice on a crackling phone ? It is like the story of the crow and the pot of 'little' water.

Back then, papa crow smiled and explained how little stones plopped into the pot would eventually lead to a rise in the level of water. The little crow boy nodded and went about collecting the otiose stones and dropped them one by one. Eventually the level rose satisfactorily.
The little crow, his pot of water, his girlfriend all lived happily ever after without any thirst.

The End ? Of course not.

In case you are still interested in the analogy, the pals i am talking about are the little stones, whom I, the little crow, have to carefully choose and retain in the pot, so that I may enjoy the water, which signifies the fruits of tr…


These signboards have fascinated me for quite a while.
I wonder if it has an effect on ANYONE at all.
Exhortation of course, has suffered huge limitations.
Here are the top 5 signs I saw on the way to Shimla (which I plan to blog about soon).
Here Goes :





Requiem for Delhi

You sadden me my love
You don't deserve this
Your arteries are choking
Too many of them little worms
teeming, eating you up
Where are you headed Delhi ?

You were aura, you were power
You were grand, you were majestic
What have they done to you Delhi ?
The tumors have spread too fast
The blemishes have turned into scars
Green has turned brown
Blue has turned black
You were so pretty Delhi...

Poor disadvantaged unemployed sick
minority majority rural urban
They all have drowned you
Your endeavour to please them all
Has weakened you my love
The spark in your eyes
is no longer steady
RWA's can't help you today
Can I save you Delhi ?

Your heart silently chokes
Too many of them little worms
and more are breaching thy territory
Khakhi and sparkling white
Are raping you dear
You still smile bravely
and give them space in your heart
How will you survive Delhi ?

Will you survive Delhi ?

Tis the season silly!

[from the archives]
You won't believe the weather we are having here for the last few days. Weather is of course the quintessential conversation filler, but this one is exclusively about it. So I am obviating all the disgrace attached to the topic just for this piece. ok ?

The rains have always been unpredictable here at Kharagpur. The day would be sunny, all bright and pretty and WHAM ! We would have heavy rains an hour later - uprooting trees and pushing the cows and dogs to take shelter in our hostels. This year, the truculent batch of rains ended somewhere around mid august, in turn gifting us with ten days of light breeze and azure skies. We ignored mother nature for a while, too preoccupied with pseudo academic activities. Then, the new improved Kharagpur rains came unannounced.

It started off with a chilly night a week back. People dug out smelly blankets and hideous full sleeved t-shirts. The following day's breakfast session seemed like a day from deep winter. Handkerchi…


My Output.
As expected, I am damn proud of it.
It makes no sense. Just some logo-like things. If any of you own a startup, and want a logo made within a budget of Rs 300/-, you know who to contact :)

Male Fantasy - Oo La La!

No Intro. No Lies. All truth. Here Goes :
There is this female (who can also be called a lady), who I pass by every day. This bandi (noname.001) marches within the confines of her plot every evening around 6:30p.m. She is young, fair, short, cat-eyed, possibly panju. I eye her from the corner of my eye as she purposefully struts from one corner to the other. Although she isn't the cynosure, she does occupy my mind for those few seconds (minutes) as I pass by her house. Diverting from the crux of the article, I think the walk itself deserves a few lines. She isn't rambling. It isn't a leisured stroll. Instead, she marches towards each respective corner with great ferocity. Driving by everyday and delibrately NOT retarding, I have not been able to decipher her exact expression. I am sure she displays a countenance of sound determination.

I am curious. I know - female, opposite sex, attraction, sex...yada yada yada... I am ready to abnegate all that. She intrigues me (like man…

India @ 2005

I enjoy wallowing in this pseudo feeling of anti-patriotism.
I refuse to humour pretentious expressions of India.
India is not defined for me by the flag and the anthem.
The truth is I don't have a definition for 'my India'.
I am not ready for it. yet.

The songs we sang in school extolling have had zilch effect on the P word's definition.

'ganga jamuna saraswati milte hain...somewhere'
'himalaya on right, kashmir on top and some stuff down there'
'keep going, lead the nation, you youth of india etc etc'

Big deal.
And don't even start on the culture crap. If Bharatnatyam and Yoga were the key to success, we have been attacking the wrong locks!

They say (and I do believe the statistics this time) that India is going to be a youth-majority nation for the next few decades. Our ideas and enthusiasm are going to push India into the league of developed nations...hmmm...

I have these little aspirations, which presently I don't mind spilling out here. No har…

Delhi Times - A bloody porn tabloid

3 Men and a girl

Tis funny how one helmet can screw up your day. How often one uses a cellphone just because it snugly lies in one's pocket. How Swapnil's suggestions can lead to unbearbale situations, and some good ones too. August 3rd left me drained of all energy and full of kissas, which I'll capture here ASAP (As Short As Possible).

Quick Facts - Surya came over to Delhi for a day. Swapnil and I skipped work for the same day. Vatsala joined us around 1pm and stayed till dinner. What you don't know is that we spent a majority of the day in 2 groups. Surya and I traversed Chandni Chowk and the rest of Delhi, hopping buses,rickety rickshaws and handling the scorching sun. The other two spent the day at JNU (I think), travelling through the beautiful lanes of Delhi on a scooter. MY SCOOTER! Tis funny how the lack of a helmet can screw up your day..

August 3rd began with a healthy breakfast at Holistic Food Centre in IIT Delhi(yes, you can laugh at the name). 3 people. 1 helmet. Hence, I…

Despo II

You won't believe who else they roped in for Desperate Housewives promotion- Karan Johar!
Well, he's reinvented himself with an OLD UNCLE look (His hair is a homogenous mixture of white and black...and the gay feel is starkly noticeable)I know I sound 60, but fashion has really hit its low-point. Is looking OLD and CRINKLY fashionable now ? You know..I really don't understand today's people...with the generation gap and all.
Three conclusions I've drawn within the last minute :
If you are naive' and read both these posts, you'll think I am obsessed with Karan Johar, Desp. Housewives or both. Well, thats not the case.
If you are like me, then you will feel a built-up urge to kill the subject (not me, Karan Johar!). I am proud of you.
If you are a news-reporter, you can go and blab about how thousands of bloggers are reshaping the world with their views. I can assure you at least 6 people read this and 12 pretend to do so. Thats quite a huge fan following.


Desperate Housewives

It has such a conspicuous title that 'Friday 10p.m' got stuck in my head. The journey from a cynical "what crap" opinion to a "I am looking forward to the Friday 10p.m show" was quite pleasant. There were a few bumps on the road. First and foremost was the active print-media propaganda (courtesy: Delhi Times). This TOI's supplement suffers from a chronic sex disorder. Here are the headlines splashed over the past week:

"MMS RIYALITY - Riya Sen on the MMS featuring .." - July 20th '05
"Is it okay to have a one night stand with a friend?" - July 19th, '05
"Sex up your Style" - July 11th, '05
"Would you like to Seduce me ?" - July 10th, '05

I am sure even the liberal parents of teens of the 21st century are having a nightmare, deciding how and what exposure to control. Squeezed between the clevage of Pamela Anderson's third marriage pictures and the legs of Mallika Sherawat is the current blog's su…

Good Days Bad Days

* A few defintions so that the newbies are not deterred by the terms :
-->Compartment/Boogie : the 72 berth module of a train
-->Coupe : The 8 berth module within a compartment

As my train (Jhelum Express : from Pune to Delhi) left the station in the evening around six, I arranged my three piece luggage - compacted it into two pieces, chained one of them, used the other rock-hard bag as a pillow...and gazed out. Pune city is beautiful...nature wind weather etc etc. I had great confidence that my diffident poetic self would find courage to emerge and spill some thoughts for the next July blog. The situation was perfect. By some grace of Laloo Yadav, my S7 compartment was empty. A few ticketless gentlemen boarded at Pune, but they were company only for a little while. I munched some chips, read the book(s) at a leisurely pace. Sleep itself wasn't a delibrate task. It just happened...bliss...

The obnoxious kid stared right at me as he squealed, "Aap utro, ye poora boogie hamaa…

You've got rain

Ever had one of those days with azure skies and light breeze where the air is so delicious that you want to take it all in, and the cheerful people strolling on the road wave to you ? Well then, you certainly aren't in Delhi.

(I had no intention of writing this. I read this 'rain' blog on Poornima's and well...I had to trash / complement it.)

It rained a few days back. This isn't about that. It is about this...

Rains look good from a distance. I like the concept of wet-ness and I love wet t-shirts, but I don't want anything to do with it. The surreal impressions of rain, eschewing umbrellas and hairbands, rebelling against the norm, being normal and dry...Sure, the greatest writers and filmakers have caputured felicitous moments and these have percolated through our subconscious too. But are they the moments we know...or just factitious memories ?

The rain is an escape. It is the garibon-ka-saathi politican, the ice-cream vendor, the alms for the beggar, the slay…

Crisis - Hairstyle

I read quite a few blogs to notice that most of the morons of my age were going through an identity crisis (Who am I ? What's my purpose ? and all that crap). I realized it was too petty an issue to be worried about. I also learnt that most of them write crap and hence, as a blanket rule ; quality doesn't matter in this world. Goodbye "Zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance" fundaa. Goodbye Phargeus ! You never made sense to me.

There are three things that are occupying my mind right now :

1) Are blogs/bloggers really a force to reckon with (as the media portrays it). I'll figure it out sooner or later (in the latter case the media will inform me). It isn't that big an issue.

2) I had a sudden writer's crisis of sorts a few days back; No, not a writer's block (my block is so permanent that I've bored a hole through it to survive in the blog world). I thought writing only funny stuff was a sick thing to do. Since I am doing it again, you know how w…

Grade F

Oh no!
Excessive sarcasm.
Unwanted exaggeration.
Complete dependence on showcasing stupidity as a virtue.
My blog makes me sick.
Back to basics!
I need a new format.

D.I.B - The rest of the story

As I was returning from my firm this evening (woo hoo! weekend !), I managed to brake the clutch wire and accelerated sluggishly towards our favourite mechanic shop. While my father's camaraderie with the mechanics is legendary and quite admirable, I distrust them from the bottom of my heart. I think every pore of my face screams out 'Iam ignorant about your profession' and even the most greased up mundu is able to pick up the signal. The scooter spluttered, jerked and halted near the shed. In my most baritone and authoritative voice, I commanded (read requested), "Ye clutch wire change karna hai ...growl growl". As the minutes passed, I began to ponder. What childhood trauma could have possibly affected me this badly ? How can I be so averse to this race, this masculine profession of nuts and bolts. Have some experiences etched my grey cells forever ? 6 bold letters flashed in front of my eyes - DIB 342

As a dedication to the clunks of the mechanics of the unive…

Office Office II

Office is fine. Lunch is fine. AutoCad is fine. But sadly, my training is not confined to that. Once is a while, I have to visit...THE SITE!

Site visits embarrass me. It is a completely different world where the tread of a staircase is called TAPPA and reinforcement is called SARIYA. (I know a D grade in Structures in 3 consecutive semesters doesn't make me much of an expert of the subject, but still...).I know a great deal about cement and how it is different from aggregate (But I am still not sure what the little stones are called.)

People here are like aliens. Stepping out of that little cocoon of middle-class people and 3 meals a day society, I am confronted by names I hear in offbeat movies (and quite often from Swapnil)- Nathuraam ji , Dharampaal ji!

Clients are a better deal anyday. They are my people! I don't want to name them (ok. that was exaggerated- I don't want to name him). My people come from a world where we assume a minimum level of intelligence from others …


(Please refer to The Adventures of TinTin and Snowy for the real thing.)

-should I cook up a third ? There hasn't been any other nickname (thank god !)


cooldude2000_yo (pre-college era, something that embarrasses me right now...)

1)Music sense
2)Sense of humour

2)Complete lack of politics in my blood
3)Pimples...But i think that era is over...

2)Punjabi people
3)Irrational people

1)Wallet 2) Handkerchief 3)Keys ...4)Mobile, at times.


3)Face Value (haha !!)


1)Skip Office tomorrow
2)Maaro an all-india tour and meet all my archi batchmates
3)Play my guitar (which I foolishly left at KGP)


Any non-9-to-5 thing...mon to fri routine sucks...


Office Office

Four things that I learnt today :

1)My mother thinks John Abraham is good looking.
2)Dhoom isn't as bad a movie as I thought it would be.
3)Uday Chopra was worse than I thought he would be.
4)Monday Blues is an entity. I can't stop it. I can't escape it. It enters my soul at around 10a.m on Sunday morning, and doesn't let go till I have my cup of tea at the office and finally realize that Monday is back.

In case I didn't tell you what my office is like - here's the stuff :

My archi training lasts till mid-october ( it started on 11th may). Office is fine. Pakka dilli-type. I'll list out the names (in order of seniority) - Rakesh Vats (boss); Sardar (i don't know his name yet) ; Goyal (i don't know the first name) ; Naveen Sharma ; Amardeep Tyagi ; Me ; Surinder (chai -paani mundu) and my favourite - Verma ji (who is a 60+ guy handling estimation and talks a million words a minute when given a chance).

It's a 25min drive from my home. A consummate dil…

Imagination...or the lack of it

A week has passed by...
A billion thoughts (or more, or less) passed through my head every day; a few of them were written down.

A husky male voice answered back. The lady tingled with enthusiasm. She recognized the voice. After all, the calls were made quite frequently. The man cleared his throat and said, "Kitne kilo madam ?" She said, "6 kilo. basmati" ....After this my brain-power died and the story took no direction. Here's another unfinished thing :

* Inspired by 2 individuals - P.G Wodehouse and Jyoti

Thats right ! Pineapple in the middle of Delhi. While others squished and sqaushed their mangoes, Jyoti was one bold gal. There she was, standing at the bus stop with that pineapple in her hand.... Again, a complete lack of imagination...

I also finally managed to rip my worst T-shirt with the most awful catchline. I guess around 40 or more batchmates of mine would have bought this in our first year. It cost a whole sum of seventy five…

DIB 342 - The Roadtrip(s)

MHOW is one of the most picturesque cantt areas. While all cantts are blessed with an overwhelming share of trees,panju drawing rooms and snooty children, Mhow did have an undeniable charm. It had a tiny five km radius with juxtaposed civil and defense areas. These were strung together by pathways, moodily changing levels and directions. In quite a few crossings, reaching that pinnacle was a small victory of sorts. And for our pretty DIB-342, it was no sweet ordeal.

The market place lay on the lower contours of the town. For the unacquainted, Mhow is famous for Smocking Dresses (pronounced smoking by most residents). In that maze of slender roads and lanes, the car would cease to work at odd places. Inevitably I would have to jump out (ladies and guests excluded from the laborious act) and push it to the nearest safe spot. Restarting would take anywhere between 10 minutes and a week.

On one of the better days, we managed to finish off errands without any glitches. On the way back, we s…

Black Wednesday

27th April was not a good day for me - or for the 9 people who where involved in this gory tale of stupidity, chaos and luck. Presenting Black Wednesday :

It all started on the night of 26th April, when I decided at 11pm that it was quite necessary for me to wash my face. As I left the room with my St.Ives Apricot Scrub [direct maal from Sydney], I noticed a brand new Titan watch on my left wrist. My brain's right hemisphere crunched the figures and facts and zipped a wave of data to the left hemisphere - "Hey ! This isn't yours !" A millisecond later, the analysis and corresponding conclusion was drawn - Remove the watch and then wash your face.

My mighty muscles tugged at the local strap hurriedly realizing that their friend, the brain, had to study for an exam. It broke. I spent a few minutes feigning interest in repairing it. When that was over, I picked up the buckle and the rest of the watch and proceeded towards Vamsi's room [B-308 AZAD Hall] to return the …


It is quite a hard thing to accept, but there are quite amm...I can't find the right word - let us settle with duplicate, replica or a fancy facsimile. Yes, there quite a few *** in the world than you imagine. And let this misconception not riddle you for a second that you are the best or cream of the lot.

'Hate' would be too strong a word. I would say I have a strong dislike for people who share my name. Birthday buddies were hard enough to bear in school ( yes Vishal, I did not enjoy it :) Thankfully the rare "Iyer" tag in the northern half of the country ensured a certain identity, at least with the surname.

I terribly pity the Abhinavs, Nehas, Sameers, Varuns and Siddharths of my generation. What were your parents thinking ?
"Hi. I am Varun Sharma."
"Me too"
"Me too"
"hehe....I am Varun SINGH."

I recall this 100% true incident that happened in Mhow (yes, with the car and all - more on that later...). Our neighbourhood had its…