Well firstky apologies for a prolonged absence on the blogosphere, it was aided by my very classic semester examinations( body art helping me get 10 marks in 3 different subjects) i felt like Micheal scofield( prison break people please spare me i mean no comparisons) working past the web of the semester examinations which were surely meant to entangle me courtesy the in"action" in the entire semester. But while i watch the world gliding past me, hitting the turf with both high and low i wonder what the next entry should be about.
( There we go look at this fella just 5 entries and already talking about "writers" block) well yes i am partly flabbergasted, partly bluffed with the response at my last post. ( Damn 6 comments = more than all the comments in the entire blog), so the cranbox starts screeching ( ah! talk about college life get instant nirvana) point taken so all i have to do is sit at that dark corner of my lecture hall and look around me, so i have( ah! my college canteen, damn what is she doing wid him!!) to the intellectually malfunctioning faculty to pen about,( how a proff still struggles to clear his own Ph.D while we wonder about what to write in matrix addition for a 5 marks question) and th dilemma does not end here, i jsut did the most painful thing a person can do ( look at your own blog and well, criticize it!!) and i confess i got lost in the post "The Case of iota" ( get ready for the admission: I myself got confused in the first reading!!!!) and was like damn what was i writing( thank god he realized) so there we go again, i again sit and wonder should i write my daily experience( get up, curse about fate, get screwed and curse again)or should i "write" about the movie i just saw( ah! another blog on bollywood, our famous fixation)so i talk to people, (the tempowallah, the maid who comes in the morning and makes sure that the horror show in my room ends) talk about various perspectives, talk about the way they look at life, amaze myself at how people look at situations, (imagine to your horror if you calculate 6*8 quick, people talk about you being a goddamn genius!! and you in your mind wonder when will yours parents feel the same!!) and well you can always "write" about some daily piece of news, or tle latest fad, new year resolutions( i solemnly pledge to download all episodes of How I met your mother, and promise to god that i will not buy original software , that hepls me save lakhs that i don't have. also i will try to send more SMSes to people i know, and stop being a miser!!!!!! ) to how did the year flash past you before you realized that (damn! you just had another pair of semesters coming to an end, and you can proudly continue to boast that you are immune to all forms of technical idiosyncrasy)and then there are friends who want you to voice "concern" over an issue you never heard of to the putting yourself in a situation and write about it( how about hitting a six ( an improbable event for me) and win a match as a captain) or think of those abs that older men seem to be acquiring at the rate we are loosing it!!!
Well as it turned out this really seems to what i have pulled off, ( copy form somehere was a safer option, in the (exabytes of data we have around us) so before u start sulking on this one lets "block" the "write" entry................................
Nope this is not the LP track we are talkin of! i will go to topic later first i would like to thank all those who took out their time to read my blog and post generous comments( special thanks: siddharth sir) while i ( hey dude wazzup!! watz goin on .... nothin.. yeah nothin here as well.... so what do u do in free time.... nothin u know same old hanging out....sahi yaar!! what else got hooked or something.....((answer's vary here))nahi yaar/kindoff/that *****(me a family blogger!) tu bata...... who the hell on this planet would tolerate me!! my arranged marriage will be the most disarranged marriage.......lolz:P 8-)..... aur bata..... tu suna..... arre i stared a blog(how clever of me!!!!!).....u?? i dont believe.. (me soo shy) nahi boss thought to pen down my thoughts.... what is the link.....(1 down, my li'l jig)it is ***.*************.***.... chal i will check out/i get it you want me to click some ads and u make money u ******....
Disclaimer : The above piece of thought came was a honest feedback from the minds of all those who i sordidly got into this.
Phew! what was i talkin about, yeah that this being december the UPTU exam festival has a lot to offer to us fellow engineers as we prepare to launch ourselves in a world where our books are outdated( oops! forgotten) a degree without attending that practical, no electricity in lab, to the clarion call of "BUNKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK" we prepare to take on 5 units of crap study from a book which is a summary from some foreign hotshot( i am loving it) while the "men" like it hard( Super Duper condensed volume of 5 yr papers solved by checkers themselves!!!! no doubt they are called Kaise Pass H oon) so after the watershed effect in the whole semester i sit to shed some light on the textbook( get it on rent bhai, comes at 50p a day) (beep! beep!) a message to the miser on the planet( how many times must i admit that, and please my inbox can take only 65 msg talk about quality control) movies related to exams.....(back)(delete).... the complexity of Krus(beep! beep!) letter to VC,UPTU(back>(delete>.....kal's algorithm is(beep! beep!) engineers marte nahin.....
What happens when you are exposed on screen? When those stark realities which co-exist comfortably around us are suddenly splashed in front of us. Complete with music and the finesse of one of the most promising directors of our times( RIP: Subhash Ghai)but the "show" must go on and the show belongs to those who belong to the times, the scene is not a Castle in "Hamburg" nor is "bauji" of DDLJ ( simran you can go now please). Yeah why do we have to fooled with those landscapes of an exotic land which now sponsers our movies instead of printing brochures. Why do we have to set our "Mumbai" in some set at "Dubai" or why do i have to identify with the khushi or gham of a family who is draped in a cloth designed by Rohit Bal.( the white colour u see is inspired from the school shirt i used to wear, this is dedicated to my bai who would wash and iron that shirt for me while i dreamt of designing designer coffins). "Lucky"ily we have a breed of directors who don't write in their promos to come and fall in love,( for that overpriced popcorn which your kid wants because Pogo has told him that Ben-10 comes free with this, or your girlfriend who still fancies those videos where love happens over popcorn throwing and no one cares, wow! i will do it when i go and see Ghazini).
But yes we are really "lucky" that a second line of lieutenants are willing to come on the scene and make their presence felt. And why does it have to be an "art" movie. (why does it have to be about brothels or a marital discord). The art movies of 70s with all their exceptions were meant not for you or me but again that ( Ah! Bentley, i just got an RR for myself) to (why is the fork 2.23 cm way from my soup which is cooked not simmered) class of self prophesied messiahs of fate of movie every friday, while the staple diet for public would be to believe that he can marry a girl who does not know the route to kitchen( and they talk about the highway to heart and stoppages at some gunny bag)lest the eyes are not outlined with god knows what( can someone in comments give me a beginner's guide to a make up kit) to those villains who for no reason smuggle empty cartons and barrels!
I dont wish to giev it a fancy sounding name like "cineplex movie" "multiplex movie" may be they are "simplex movies" movies which we wanted to see, but like when your dugestion system is churning sounds of a BEST bus it fails to recognize pill( though the doctor is confident that his top-up is now taken care off) we have stopped looking to movies that "sound silly" and go for those EXXXXXTRAAA( no pun here guys) long titles whose title has more animation then the movie( did someone say Chamku) to what was the name of guy ( nitin and some color and mukesh) and watch those "tashnee" movies that proclaim " we are king" because we are fool enough to watch a movie whose promos even fail to tickle a nerve( please don't try to move that nerve, we have a couple in progress at the left hand corner second last row).
And before i stray into the "big bollywood story" let me get back to the point.
Oye Lucky... Lucky Oye is not a movie it is a revelation something like Khosla Ka Gholsa did. Real life has no true idols no straight principles just curves that appear straight. Loops with curvature beyond those eyes,and yet everyone is happy to choose his own loop. So we have a music system as "gift" for that contract to the mercedes of ( 10 lakh loss in factory) suddenly slipping out of our eyes and we are again pointing fingers, to whom? i frankly don't know! the "straightness" is worth a debate, the hard earned bunglow( sales tax, income tax, property tax, water tax damn commissioners for all and "diwali" gifts for bunty and bhabhijee oh! she adores laxmi nagar ki chaat how sweet of her).
Enter "lucky" a product of our aspirations bursting out of cafes, restaurants, commercials with those me-so-good, me-so-happy faces, stuffing our conscience with "the good life". Lucky creates an "order" in the chaos, from the affable chaddha jee and his adorable parjayijee to sharma jee and his misej we have a sudden problem. Who is this "robinhood" who is stealing under my nose while i wipe it clean under my table. He is a "fiend" a "sham" who needs to be taught that swindling suits those plaster faces with a smile on face and hand in pocket and not those who have nothing to mortgage but "laid down souls". The "permit" is for those entrance exam cleared hob-knobs who think their quota alone is worth filling, so while chadhaa jee smiles as he invites you to a "gate-together" his heart brims with what we all know.
But look what this guy did he amplified those hushed tones, look he is showing people bare naked on screen cryin foul that their "victim" souls are being mocked by people in character as shady as the left corner of the second last row. Bravo dude! i am surprised how do they tolerate "the nakedness" or the depth of "cleavage" in society shown by you. That is not for viewing dude...... please watch it in your homes on the the T.V set recieved last "diwali" while Bantu can watch his assignments on sharma jee ka gift...............................
The cold mornings of november when the ultimate seductress( the quilt!) would make promises of that cozy feeling, making you crave for that five more minutes in its warmth was suddenly breached. On one such cold mornings, i dragged myself to the dining table ( where the heck are those slippers! damn! bread butter again!). I was in my silo of alofness before the rude shock came.
Mumbai Attacked! the channels busy selling news crying that this corpse was first shown on their channel, some busy infiltrating the Oberois and Taj where even ATS weren't exactly contemplating to go. The eyes were wide, jaws dropped! Not again, but look at the mindset, we measure the magnitude of seriousness of attack by the number of corpses,( 3 dead bah! my friend's BMW knocked 4 last night, these good for nothing scumbags). But suddenly the scumbags were counting their blessings as the ire was directed towards the other side of the story( How many more pilots should we dismiss, 5 would do good let me have caviar first ah! Clos De La Roche(1961) why not) the elite (ah! did ya mention Bahamas hah! outdated) were suddenly under the shadow of gun, but the direction of guns were ahem! in their direction. Yet the irony of the situation was of little relevance it pointed out to a stark truth slapping at face. Even you are not safe fella! They are marking their boundaries, sorry mapping their territory. 60 hrs later we may be breathing easy but the questions posed are not. I find all those familiar voices ringing around, yeah (terror doesn't shake me...i am an indian forward this to 10 ppl, mock show of solidarity, display of secular unity) but what is left to be shaken inside me when i have shut everything inside me tight. The airproof vessel where i gagged my conscience is too still to be shaken by any voices, decibels don't make a difference in a mortuary. When the damn reporter was beaming about how his live footage helped boost TRPs( and pump 3 bullets in ATS chief) the terrorists don't need a mastermind, just attack with a T.V set with Tata Sky plus, pause, play the picture ( ah! the balcony, he the third window from left) we must thank media a million more times.
Yet the stark reality lies somewhere else. It lies around us, from( heavens be thanked no one from my family! let's catch that episode of Daily soap i wonder whether they will show his face in this episode, i almost bruised my finger cutting vegetables thinking about it) to (another attack i am sick and tired of this crass! let's drink a Tiranga cocktail). I was amazed to see stock markets getting open ( they are in Taj, Oberoi not Dalal Street) on a day when Mumbai V.T was under threat again. The V.T again had people tearing out of trains rushing to grab that seat, the stuggle of life had won again. I cannot stop for the fallen, let the fallen find a messiah for themslves. While on face of it it sounds good, we are not perturbed by shit! But look inside, the fear is not always as panicky as that Bolly flick, it is more subtle when it is proxy, it churns out of eyes, it sits with you, talks with you, laughs with you. The bindassness is worth analyzing. My joys knew no bound when i watched " A Wednesday" as that fear was said for the first time. The fear of being hunted that the predator is lurking around. Proxy fear is what they created, the cloak of indifference when i beat an innocent who hit my scorpio ( I am not driving, i am flying low!) for interrupting in the royal retreat to silence of the bus watching a women being raped, is what is seen even when a terror strike occurs. The people pick up their pieces after blast, and move in that "muted silence". The ripple mongers are those Z+ bastards too far from the ground( I am a son of soil)
I have never known what it takes to be in a hostage situation or losing someone to these maniacs. True the pain cannot be felt until it clouds you, but what are we moving towards, house full shows the next day for a Bhojpuri flick in U.P hinterland is not solidarity, the curve of indifference is alas too shallow in domain yet it's range is so deep. We can go on with our lives, live under bombs, foreign rule, barbarians, dictators because that's what we have chosen to become. I am not asking us to hit a Pakistani the next time we meet, what is his fault. But why are we not doing our social duty, is the race of life so crucial that we can sacrifice others without thinking that we may have missed it this time but the grave for us is being dug by the indifference of someone else. The summation of this summation is leading to crisis, moral, social, vernacular, regional, identity and whatever attribute you can assign for yourself. It is this indifference that makes politician make money while hundreds eat pathetic food at Schools. It is this indifference that makes us watch extortion in front of our eyes. It is this indifference that makes us not to vote when elections come, it is this indifference which makes us grab acres of land in the name of religion. This is the indifference that makes us click free air travel in the website while reading about pilots being sacked and the same indifference which makes them say that don't blame us blame it the advertisement display algorithm!
Wake up guys! The indifference of reading this blog and saying that this the half truth is the asymptote of the Curve of Indifference..............
The 'iota' or the imaginary is the some total of the cosmic drama unfolding us, mesmerizing us to the extent that movies like "Matrix" appear to be "real" reality around us. The iota may not mean anything on the surface, yet (ask an Electrical engineer) the iota is around our lives shaping it not only through the mathematical realms but in social engineering this is the iota that counts. The iota is the proportion of invisible, the muted, the unspoken, those dazed hopes, lost appeals, traumatized reminiscences.
The iota is the heart of the unsaid, unfelt, unknown, undesirable, undone, under-scored. The iota is the discriminant of voices that are felt in those numb, cold moments when you have arms wrapped around yourself looking at the sum total of life. The iota is the void of heart when that gleam of dew fails to stir a ripple in conscience. The iota is reverberation when wrath is directed upon your bosom and the tender heart cries for "hope". The iota is the sum total of hopes dashed under the fist of fate we hoped would go away. Iota is the sum total of hungered bellies who are content with the crumbs shoved across them in the name of benevolence. Iota is the sum total of rituals with soulless buffoonery and cacophony meant to soothe the pockets of those antagonist individuals. Iota is the drop of pearls flowing from eyes aroused to see the agony, unable to do something about it. Iota is the sum of indifference when a 3 month baby is pampered with a Dior and the begger at the parking lot bullied by the driver, courteous to open the Audi door after you gave a speech on child labor. The iota is the sum of those psuedo socialists who snatch development for the sake of their prized "seat" coaxing fools to face police batons, jets of water and smoke of tear gas.
Iota may be around us, but its the iota that makes "Strawberry Fields Forever"- for the unknown it is a John Lennon composition. The clash of "iota" is what makes the "real" thng happen. The iota's around us are shaping the world around. These unkempt voids are the "entropy" sources and sinks. I may be sounding bit vague but explore the iota(s) inside you, do their summation, see their integration into your lives. Our iota(s) are silent like our silence but loud enough when we unleash them on our unfounded lives, moments and even iota(s).
I will splash my iota(s) in some posts( gosh! did i just commit something!)but feel free to put in yours....
Friends, sure we have tonnes when we go on our space at those networking sites, people around us, people, sharing those passions, commenting on youtube, fighting out with all guns blazing with people who may take more than a life time to meet, or simply " M 21 smart, Working in MNC, open minded looking for like minded girls", dropping a "Hi gorgeous" on evry third profile they visit. In the plethora of these sites my cranbox is often flummoxed ! How much can i believe a Net "friend" yeah we hear that XYZ had a torrid affair with a net friend and finally they make it to the hall of fame of Shaadi.com. but most people end up getting kicked on their asses and like the brave rana of ranthambore they are willing take on as it comes. So where is the good 'ol friend especially when "testimonial" suddenly become yardstick for things, and scrapbook size the quotient of "uber coolness". Did i hear " he was kicked on by a gal recently"? well may be may be not dont we all upgrade that average built to a "sculpted abs" scenario and wishing casanovas never existed anywhere else but within the confines of that "average built". But i aint here to talk about this but ( i am sure you will find this hilarious) the dating scenario in my college tucked well inside a place in called Kanpur,India. Already engineering has a " lot" to offer to the non males in engineering stream so we have a group of despos chasing the other " me a one man thing" sighing whether that one man would even bother to look down on 'em. But as the situation goes two neatly divided rows constitute the classroom, with 40 odd eyes gawking at 4-5 pairs of( ahem!) as if the apple of temptation is meant for 'em. So the first year people are willing to be counselled by their second year "frusto" counterparts who are now expert for the hunt of Holy Grail. So fighting out for that seat next to "non male" in lab becomes a priority for few while majority sits eying the "geese" fuming on those eyeing the lab seat. Now begins teh role of social sites and "friends" Orkut rocks, no mortal in engineering college who was previously unaware about it has eluded its charm. So search parties raid the site to find the last dangling reference to salvation. With "maal" already weeded out the targets are set hopes high. Excuse me what was that on status tag, jesus christ not the "C" word, -committed or commitophobia for our Sati savitris is the tag to flaunt, tag to go out with their "bhaiyas", yes people are willing to barter souls for that, anything for the Grail as they say! So the first year ends crashing hopes of the "silent majority" cursing, repairing armour after that "fell flat on face" attempt to talk, or adding a zing in their "profile" made by vociferous attempts to make their profiles match the intersts, did she stay she lives in "lucknow", arrey my train passes that station, change belongs to " coach no 6 lucknow platform". gosh! and this aint the story of a batch like an infinite loop the story goes on and gets classy with each passing year...........................
Never knew writing a blog can be such monumental task for me. Seeking those "Dummy's Guide to Blogging" to self-proclaimed bloggers (" oh! fella just be natural") i enter into the uncharted waters.
And as Paulo Cohelo said "Maktub", let the whole world conspire, so that i can bring that idiosyncratic thought to light.
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