A.. B... C... D...

Having realized that none of my posts are corny enough to be spat at, I have decided to post this "poem" of sorts just so that some people may realize how corny I can be. It's a poem that I composed quite some time back before I even created this blog. One can't exactly call it a poem, but here goes.
(Note: The last letter of each line.)

Somebody called me,                      "A (ye)".
I wondered who this was not letting me    B (e).
So, I turned to                           C (see)
It turned out to be a                     D (Tamil, slang for a girl).
Smiling at me with her teeth bared        E (eeee).
I told her to off                         F (read fuck off).
She asked, "What                          G ?" (Hindi. meaning : Sir, Madam etc.)
Whilst spitting at me with her            H (-e) (read, "echie", meaning saliva in tamil)
And asked who was                         I ?(English. Meaning : I )
The tone of her voice implied she was     J (Jealous)
I introduced myself as agent              K (from the MIB fame)
From Salvador (e)                         L (El Salvador, to those who didn't get it, it happens to be a country)
Conversing, I asked of she listens to Min-M (read Eminem, The Real Slim Shady)
She said "No, I listen to only Sync       N" (read N-Sync, the ones always out of sync)
I said                                   "O" (read Oh!)
Then I realized I needed to               P (read Pee, ie to urinate)
For which I have to stand in a            Q (read queue)
Which others already                      R (read are)
And, they'll all say                      S (read Yes)
To coffee and                             T (read Tea)
This "poem" is for me and                 U (read You)
For both of us together make              V (read We)
Because you and you only make             W (read Double-U or Double-You)
I told her,"I never want you to be my     X" (read Ex-friend)
To which she asked,                      "Y?" (read Why)
I replied,"To sleep on your lap           Z" (read Zzzzz)

Just one of the days..

Just one of those days when nothing happens and everything seems to bother you.
Just one of those days when nothing, besides a stiff vodka can lift you up.(Hmmm..Wonder, why it's called a "stiff" drink..)

Has it ever happened to you?
You can't seem to find anything wrong with the world around you and yet things just don't seem right. Your friends seem weird (not that mine aren't normally..but still.. They seem weirder than usual). The old jokes that always cracked you up seem to lose their charm. The only thing you can think about is death and remorse and the entire pointlessness of living a life. Well, I know a guy whose everyday is just this (read Ranting human) but, this doesn't happen to me normally and yet I find myself posting one of those posts that don't exactly make sense but they seem to make oneself feel better about it.

If this post doesn't make you feel good about anything, "Yea, well.. Life's Tough!", it sure has hell has made me feel better about myself having spread the nothingness feeling through this world of nothingness.
Oh, a good bit of graffiti that I wrote (possibly the most productive thing about my entire day in college and also to quote "The most sensible thing you've ever said.")
: Life is just an experience to make one realize,how blissful death can be.

Don't ask me why ...

At times, when the engineering mind has been hit by a crisis and has painstrickenly managed to get out of it alive, he subjects to change.

That's exactly what did NOT happen with me.(As oxymoronic as it may seem to some of whom, who may ACTUALLY read this)

The phrase "Life is Tough!" is possibly the most common graffiti that one might see anywhere around me (by which I mean my bench in college). The phrase has been stuck with me for quite sometime now, I fail to remember when it started. If my memory serves me right (which it normally doesn't), I think it was my brother who implanted that idea in my head when I was 14 or 15 yrs old. Guess he moved on from the phrase whereas I seemed to have failed to do so. It seems like a perfect answer to any problem that one might have.
To demonstrate :-

• Computer conked! - "yea well, life's tough!"
• Constipated, stuck in the toilet for 2 hours - "yea well, life's tough!"
• Your girlfriend dumps you. - "yea well, life's tough!"
• This post sucks. -"yea i know who's gonna read it anyway..."

Amidst all this, one wonders why such submission towards 'life". And the answer lies in myself because I never completed the phrase. It goes : "Life is Tough...So am I".

Hike on a Bike - Part II

The Wait :-
I wasn't very far from where i actually live and neither did my aunt take very long to get there, and yet quite a few things happened by the time she arrived with my sister. I was just resting on the footpath when the man named Praveen started making conversation, first with futile efforts of "lie down", "stay put" and "wash your face". From where I got the water you ask? Well,the water was provided by this girl, whose name my memory fails me to recall. (For further reference I shall name her Angel) Angel, as I remember her telling me and Mr.Praveen (who was standing beside me through the entire ordeal), was an inhabitant of one of the flats bang opposite to the place the accident had occured and on seeing the accident she had rushed to see if she could be of any help. Well, that was that, she even showed Mr.Praveen her house if ever she could be of help and was off back home taking the bottle of water. She DID seem genuinely concerned. Next to arrive was one of my sister's friend, who lived nearby the scene of the accident and was informed immediately, by my sister that I had met an accident in the vicinity, after my phone call home. She just came to check up on me, and informed my sister that I was quite alright with a few bruises here and there.

It was then, that I started examining the damage done to my body. Quite a few scratches here and there, none seemed too serious, no deep wounds but a nagging pain on my right shoulder. It was then that it hit me that I had a much awaited basketball tournament comin up and these injuries were not going to let me play the rather important tournament. And the next thing I knew, I found myself conversing with Mr.Praveen about where I studied and the conversation eventually lead to the basketball tournament I was likely to miss.

Arrival of the flustered aunt :-
My flustered aunt arrived at the scene and was brought uptodate with the events so far. She immediately examined my wounds, and sent me with my sister to the nearest hospital "GS hospital" which was just a few metres away from where I'd just encountered the accident. Here I recieved a nasty prick on my buttocks(or was it on my arm ...my arm I think... I guess I said buttocks only cos it adds a bit of humor to the otherwise rather serious post), courtesy a tetanus injection which my dear sister was kind enough to buy once the nurse subscribed for it after cleaning up the few external wounds that I had. This injection was followed by an enquiry by the local traffic police who seem to have FINALLY arrived at the scene after being called by Mr.Praveen as soon as he witnessed the accident. And I seem to have passed the enquiry with flying colurs as it featured only basic questions such as, Q : "Do you have a license?"; A : "Yes, I do."

This questonaire was followed by another agonisingly long wait for the manager of ABT couriers to arrive who seemed to have got stuck in traffic. When he DID arrive, after the departure of the traffic policemen, my aunt was involved quite a lengthy conversaton with him during which he examined my rather "injured" bike and the broken headlight of his company's van and came to an agreement with my aunt that neither of us will press charges against the other as from the account of both, the van driver and the bike rider's (i.e mine), the accident was caused due to the mistake of both parties (well, I made sure I sounded as tough I was very hurt enough to convince the manager this...I jus hope that manager never has the chance to read this post). This was followed by my aunt writing a letter stating the same and getting signatures of both parties on the letter and keeping a carbon copy of the letter and keeping it for herself (it would be worthy to note that neither the van driver nor I signed on this letter..twas just between my aunt and the manager).

Now, been there done that, I got home with my aunt and my sister in an auto rikshaw after my sister accompanied Mr.Praveen and her friend to her friend's place where my bike lay for that night as everyone deemed me unfit to ride my bike back home. (Oh, the bike was in riding condition it seemed to move when one started and accelerated it)

Just for the record, Mr.Praveen was a boxer who lost his chance to represent India in an international boxing tournament because he injured his head after involving himself in a bike accident just like this one. All because he wasn't wearing his helmet just like I wasn't when I met mine. I seemed to have had a lucky excape, while he had not been as fortunate.

Oh, and as for my tournament, I managed to get fit enough to play the upcoming basketball tournament and we won that tournament though I SUCKED throughout the tournament. But, we won, which is what that mattered, by a single point in the finals.

Hike on a Bike - Part I

Access to a computer, and time in my hands to type something out too. The combination of these two is very rarely encountered by a college student such as I, who keeps moving around with friends in his free time so that he may avoid going "home".

As of now, this maybe stale news to most of my friends(I should say all) that I recently (recently?...GOD!! this post is months old....)met with an accident while on my bike (on my bike?..more off it than on it). Here's how the events proceeded...

ON my bike :-
I was on my way back home from my college bus-stop after my basketball practice (which I happen to attend everyday at college) and was feeling quite full of myself having played well at practice that day. When one is full of oneself, it so happens that thinking about oneself ie self ego (isn't that REDUNDANT!!?) is not very benficial to self, for while on my way back I tried overtaking a certain auto-rikshaw at a bend. And after I came on the side of the rikshaw did I realize a tempo kind of truck (I'm sorry of it sounds oxymoronic) heading straight for me - headlights blazing!! And in an effort to avoid collision with the tempo (with ABT couriers written in bold...so, I found out later..) I veered towards my right...

OFF my bike :-
...but to little effect, for the next thing I knew I was flying, having been thrown off my bike. The bike scraping the road while I rolled on the floor and came to a stand still (STAND still?!... more like lie still.. or .. hmmm.. I hope you get the drift..) half a foot away from the footpath and before I knew it, I had an entire hoard of people helping me get off the road where i momentarily lay out o shock. Everyone asking me questions like : "Are you ok?", "Eyindra pa? Yebudi viyinday?"(thats tamil for "Get up child. How did you fall?". Oh, for the lesser readers, 'tamil' happens to be the local language here in chennai). I still don't understand the point of that last question, whoever it was who asked it, having perfectly witnessed the accident still did not have the wit to figure out what happened? (SHEEESH!!) Besides this particular person, everyone else seemed to have been very helpful. When they managed to lift me off the road I realized I wasn't exactly bruised enough to have needed help to get up and told them the same and they let me stand on my own. I struggled to find my cellphone which one of the "helpers" handed to me after parting it from the broken glass that now lay on the road, courtesy : a broken indicator from a bike and a damaged headlight from the truck aka ABT couriers van. Once having found my mobile phone, I realized it had no battery ie the battery was missing. After a short search i found the battery, but to no avail as it didn't have any charge. Seeing this one of the "helpers" offered to let me call from his phone : a nokia 3600, the "helper"'s name :
Praveen! Praveen _______ (curious, isn't it,I don't seem to remember asking him for his last name) ! I told him the number to my aunt's place which he dutifully dialled and gave the phone to me.

I informed my aunt about the accident which I had just encountered and told her I was quite alright and all she said was that she'd get to the spot asap. So, started the wait for the arrival of my aunt at the scene of the accident.

To be continued ...

The kid who does not kid !

As I promised, I'm back here to narrate the entire incident of how me and my cousin got kicked out of a club in Kualalampur.I warn you now that this incident or story isn't exactly as exciting as it may sound.During my ten day stay in KL with my cousins (the elder one being my age ie 19) my brother, my cousin ( the nineteen year old one, the other one is just twelve .. I THINK ) and I had long decided that once my parents left back for India (they left for India two days before us) the three of us would explore the night life pre-existent in the enlightening city of KL. Enlightening because this is the city where I seem to have got my first 'drunk' lesson. So, everything was set, my parents left for India and the very next night we set off from home at around 7:30pm after bidding our goodbye's to my aunt and uncle, and also after repetitive advice from dear uncle of mine not to get into trouble tonight.
At last we were out, three juvenile guys bounded only by blood and affection (yea RIGHT !!) with an entire night to themselves to explore the city of lights : KUALA LUMPUR (I think I'll exclude my brother out of the "juvenile" category. Reason : at twenty three he speaks like my dad.. Sorry brother but you do ). Sounds pretty dynamic when I say but, from the limited knowledge of the city that dear cousin of mine had I was to find that he was inequipped even to get us something edible to eat before we crashed into a club. At long last we came to a street shop which was APPARENTLY famous for good food (sorry, I seem to have forgotten what my cousin said it was famous for). We asked him for some noodles of some sort which had sea food in majority and the majority of us (ie all three of us) weren't exactly fond of sea food, so my cousin ordered the same without the sea food (sea food , read prawn). This turned out to be quite something else as the sea food was the main ingredient of that particular dish. We ended up eating something that very distinctly tasted like : egg noodles, which I don't think was very far from what we ate, all the time cursing my cousin to have brought us to this place of all to eat egg noodles of everything one could get. But, then again, there was a bright side to it (or is it?) . That being we got to taste what the malysians called "lemoise" or in common tongue : lemon juice with ice, but I was in the mood for quite a little something else to drink viz : ALCOHOL !
At long last at around eight thirty pm we reached this club called ... called .. My memory fails me again, I think it was chemical joint or something along those lines. Anyways, we got to this club and found it pretty empty (we were the only ones there besides the people who worked there) to which my cousin claimed the reason to be : "We've come here too early." We just gave a "O what the hell ! " and got started on our primary work there : to get drunk with carlsberg ! (hmmm.. carlsberg really oughta be paying me money for so much advertisement, but i guess all this is negative publicity for them ) So, there we were in "Chemical (something) " starting on carlsberg's as the place slowly filled up. As I drank more, I seemed to remember less of whatever happened. I just remember doing a lot of talking with my brother and cousin about life and the apparent "hot chicks" of Malaysia (which to date I still believe to be non-existent.. hmmm.. There was a skimpy dressed tall woman behind the counter..). Then the club got utterly crowded, my cousin seemed to meet a lot of his local friends there too. At this point of time we seemed to have exhausted our drinks (and our money), so my brother decided he was gonna head home while the night was still young, we tried pleading him to stay but all in vain. So he left, and so did we, not for home but just to explore other clubs in the neighbourhood. I was just about getting high, and seemed to be going quite quiet (I'm opposite of most people who start crapping when they're drunk, as that's what I'll be doing when I'm saner.. If one can call it that). While moving around in the local "club's" suburb, we bumped into someone unexpected and burst out laughing : my brother ! He'd not managed to get a taxi back home. We made sure he did finally catch a taxi and bumped him off home and as for us, after noticing "bouncers" guarding all the other clubs in the suburb we decided to get back to the place we started and we found the place even more crowded than when we'd left it.
Inspired by the crowd, the two of us went in to have a shot of tequila each (I'd held out on money, to save for a rainy day. As I hadn't exactly seen one like that coming in the near future, I decided to hold out the money no longer.). Oh WOW!! Tequila (hope I spelt it right) really gets to your head in no time. The two of us were on an ULTRA high now. Just as we started dancing to the music going on, a tall bulky bald chap started to converse with my cousin. Here follows, the apparent, conversation between the two :-
Baldy : Hi !
Cousin: Hello !
Baldy : Where're you from?
Cousin : From India, I live here in KL. Been here for the past 3-4yrs.
Baldy : How old are you?
Cousin : Twenty one! You can see my visa if you like (handing out a copy of his Malaysian visa)
Baldy : (Examining the visa) What about your friend there? (referring to me, I was pretty benign to whatever was happening here under the assumption that this was another one of my cousin's friends)
Cousin: He's my cousin visiting me here from India(here he nudged me to pay attention, I gave the two of them a dazed look)
Baldy : How old is he?
Cousin : Twenty one !
Baldy : Should've said fifteen I would have believed you.
Cousin : He's twenty going on twenty one.
Baldy :This club is only for twenty one and above. I request you to get the hell outta here.
Cousin (pulling me along) : ok, okay!
So far, I had no idea as to who the bald chap was, only after coming out did my cousin inform me that the baldy was actually a plain-clothes-policeman and then he told me about the conversation he had jus had with him. All in all, we did get kicked outta the club and my cousin spent the rest of the night feeding me - lemoise with .. (again my memory fails me to remember that dish we had there). Then with nothing else to do and all the other clubs being guarded by bouncers, we caught a taxi home, during this journey I was apparently educating my dear cousin about the t-nine dictionary(the uneducated, read predictive text in one's mobile phone).
I guess I was wrong after all, I don't exactly keep quiet when drunk. :-).

Reclinable seats

Ever wondered how a three and a half hour journey aircraft would be WITHOUT reclinable seats? Ever had to travel between countries sitting in such an upright position that your behind started feeling numb? I have answers to these questions because I underwent precisely this during my last holiday (with family) to Malaysia (truly Asia). You would ask how could an international flight not have reclinable seats? The answer to this lies in the particular Jet Airways aircraft that accompanied my family and I to the city of Kuala Lumpur, or should I say we accompanied the aircraft. How did this happen? Here follows the account..

When we checked in our baggage (no excess ! PHEW !! ) we got our boarding passes and the stewardess there asked the head of our family ie my father as to where in the aircraft we'd like to be placed. We were quite particular about the four of us ( my parents, my brother and I ) sitting side-by-side, but that wasn't possible in economy class (atleast not in this aircraft) as the seating arrangement consisted of two three-seater rows. The polite stewardess behind the counter suggested the last row seats which consisted of three seats together and one along the same row but separated from the other three. At this, the brilliant brother of mine made a worthy note and rejected the stewardesses proposal as the seats in the last row cannot be reclined. So, the stewardess instead gave us seats right in the centre of "economy class" next to the emergency exits having the same seat arrangement. Only on reaching our seats did we find out that sets near the emergency exits in aircrafts (atleast in Jet Airways ones) are NOT reclinable !! Oh, hell ! Three and a half hours of torture ! Well, not entirely cos we're supposed to sit upright during takeoff and landing, but still keeping my back upright for more than two hours seems like torture enough to me. What's worse, this was my first trip abroad and it just HAD to start like this and this apparently was only my 3rd trip in ANY airliner. I RECLINED to my fate saying : "yea well, life's tough!" (atleast there was something I could recline to).

One would think, here ends the "curse of the un-reclinable seats", but then again, THAT I thought before my return journey in which I had only my brother for company (my parents had come back to India on a previous date ). Did I say company? I think not! We got the same seats near the emergency exits even during the return trip as the man behind the counter didn't give us any choice of seats when we collected our boarding passes. After we got seated in the aircraft (me, with a lot of moaning and denial), the air-host (yes, MALE! For some reason this aircraft had more air-hosts than air-hostesses) seemed to have a problem with a large wrist-band-like-thing my brother was sporting for the return flight. The air-host asked my brother to move to a (reclinable) seat at the back as those near an emergency exit should be physically and medically fit, (the lucky ass) while I was stuck with the UN-reclinable seat. Later after the flight took off and the "seat-belt" button went off, the same air-host (where're the ladies when you need them) stated that my "friend" was calling me to the back. Only after going there did I realize that there was actually another RECLINABLE seat, unused, right beside my brother (actually there were TWO :D ). My brother grinned at me and said, "I thought you'd prefer reclinable seats". THE HELL I WOULD !! I took up the seat near the window and marveled at my brother (Thank you brother! Thank you ! ). I reclined the seat to the full extent and got myself ready to a much deserved sleep (deserved because my cousin and I had managed to get ourselves kicked out of a club the previous night, the account of which will be available in future posts ).

Later, breakfast was served. At this point of time I'd like to get to your notice that the table, in an airliner such as the one we were in, and a cup-holder for a seat is attatched to the seat in front of it. Anyway, breakfast was served and I ate with my seat reclined(what the hell, when you have reclinable seats keep it reclined I thought). This caused apparent discomfort to the passenger behind me as my seat was reclined and he had to stoop lower than normal to eat his breakfast, so he did the sane thing and let the air-host know about it who in turn approached me and asked me to straighten my seat so that the passenger behind me could have his breakfast in peace. I said okay and jus pushed the button to straighten my seat which caused my seat's back-support to jerk straight immediately and this in turn caused the passenger to have his entire breakfast on his lap (upside down) and his drink (alcohol if I'm not mistaken.. Carlsberg! Australian for beer! .. waitaminit that's not Carlsberg that's Fosters. I dunno what it is for Carlsberg) inverted on his head. Well, if you still haven't figured out how that happened continue reading this paragraph else read the next. Since the table and and cup-holder are attatched to the seat in front, the sudden movement of the front seat (when I pressed the button to straighten my seat) caused the plate with food on the table and the drink in the cup-holder to get out of their respective places and find temporary home on the man's body rather than inside him.

I apologised profusely and considerably, not to the passenger directly though cos I couldn't see him but to the air-host. The man was in considerable distress but I didn't care much after that, after all I did exactly what he wanted me to : to straighten my seat ; not the way he would have liked but what-the-hell, I was more interested in the movie that was being screened : Hitch !