tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19231265069961453402024-03-13T08:04:07.767-07:00Into NeverlandAashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803845054488759781noreply@blogger.comBlogger15125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1923126506996145340.post-68758039435267912092021-10-14T23:48:00.002-07:002021-10-14T23:49:22.959-07:00Run to the Hills<p>He squirmed in his seat as he kept sliding off while the bus rolled over little bumps on the asphalt. Outside the rain drops pattered lightly against the window, merged together with its buddy droplets and ran across the glass in a streak. As the bus moved towards the Kudremukh trek base camp he thought to himself "I hope these joints can still tolerate a 20km trek, otherwise I sacrificed a comfortable bed for nothing."</p><p>A small quake, which turned out to be just his friend shaking him awake announced their arrival to the homestay. He looked out into the semi dark dawn but only vague silhouettes were being imprinted on his retina and it took a minute for the rods and cones to work their magic and the view came into focus. In the distance he could now see the line of evergreens standing tall on the hilly terrain with their heads in the clouds. </p><p>After a quick intake of nourishment for the tissues the trip to the coffee plantations on the banks of the Bhadra river began. For the first time he laid eyes on the green coffee beans in their infancy which would ripen and turn red in time and ultimately become part of someone's morning ritual. According to legends a seer Baba Budan smuggled in 7 coffee beans from Africa/Arabia (stories differ in place of origin) in 1670 CE and planted in his backyard which then spread out all over the state.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K37HAfSzp1I/YWkDrdwNP-I/AAAAAAAANQk/ENVl_HpXCbApjH5YwPhdmsUO-cOmTPn8ACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_20211009_095221.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K37HAfSzp1I/YWkDrdwNP-I/AAAAAAAANQk/ENVl_HpXCbApjH5YwPhdmsUO-cOmTPn8ACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_20211009_095221.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>The muddy waters of the Bhadra rushed past the hanging bridge. It would go on to meet its brother Tunga from the same source (Gangamoola) in Koodli and become the Tungabhadra river, flow past the ruins of Vijaynagar empire in Hampi, meet the Krishna river and finally rest in the Bay of Bengal. According to myth, after killing Hiranakashyap, Viraha Swamy took rest on what is now Viraha Parvata. As he rested sweat rolled down his forehead - the one on the left became Tunga and the one on the right became Bhadra.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HXarnoZaSuc/YWkFcqz6z2I/AAAAAAAANQs/ubBkZsAVinsoRCN1alVOqoMIzX9cBjwFQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_20211009_094708.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HXarnoZaSuc/YWkFcqz6z2I/AAAAAAAANQs/ubBkZsAVinsoRCN1alVOqoMIzX9cBjwFQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_20211009_094708.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div>Moving on, a 2km trek brought him to Elneeru (tender coconut) falls. The gushing waters tested his muscle strength as the free fall of the water column terminated on his back and the sweet, cold waters tingled his senses.<div><br /></div><div>A bon fire was lit in the evening and as is customary the trek lead Jolly started his horror story. </div><div><blockquote>Long before there was a national park here people lived in these forests. A couple was hiking in the woods and it had become dark. They saw a house up the road and went up to it to ask for shelter for the night. An old man came to the door with a lamp in his hand and welcomed them inside. The night was chilly and so the old man asked the guy to help him go out and gather some firewood. The house was quite isolated and so the guy told his wife to bolt the door and not open it for anyone other than him. While the guys were outside looking for branches she was lying on the bed listening to music on the radio. Suddenly she heard a knocking sound on the roof. She ignored it at first assuming it to be a cat or something. But the knocking slowly grew louder and more rhythmic. As she listened intently she slowly realised the knocking was in tune with the music being played on the radio! Her mind raced as she tried thinking of ways to react to this but her thoughts were interrupted by knocks on the front door. She hurried to the door expecting it to be her husband but it was someone else asking her to come out of the house. She was terrified and would not open the door. It was well over an hour when she was finally persuaded to open the door and come out. The stranger told her to follow him quickly and not look back but as she was running away she caught a glimpse of the house from the corner of her eye - as the clouds parted for a minute and flooded the roof with moonlight she could make out the silhouette of the old man on the roof with her husband's head in his hand and banging it against the roof!!</blockquote><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UaaalxNF74k/YWkX03gjqaI/AAAAAAAANRE/ie_JQY06MisQtP9KDLE372fmJv4p2qNSQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1080/WhatsApp%2BImage%2B2021-10-11%2Bat%2B9.50.16%2BPM.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="743" data-original-width="1080" height="220" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UaaalxNF74k/YWkX03gjqaI/AAAAAAAANRE/ie_JQY06MisQtP9KDLE372fmJv4p2qNSQCLcBGAsYHQ/w320-h220/WhatsApp%2BImage%2B2021-10-11%2Bat%2B9.50.16%2BPM.jpeg" title="The ruins of the afore mentioned house" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;"><u><i>Alleged ruins of the aforementioned house on the trek trail</i></u></p></div><div><div><br /></div><div>The next day was the day of reckoning as the group set out for the trek at 6:30am. They all reached the starting point by 8am and commenced the ascend. The first phase was through the forest region and soon he came across the first waterfall in a series of 6-7 waterfalls all through the trail. While he was able to keep his feet dry for the first couple of falls the third fall flooded his shoes. As he continued the ascend and turned a bend suddenly a mind-blowing view opened up in front of his eyes. Hills covered with shola-grassland mosaic with clouds floating on top was an exact replica of the Windows wallpaper.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XHB-bwJ8JF4/YWke4AZquYI/AAAAAAAANRM/exTianng3K4LUTb5uYuKmnaq5DyMTKDmwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/IMG_20211010_113916.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="366" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XHB-bwJ8JF4/YWke4AZquYI/AAAAAAAANRM/exTianng3K4LUTb5uYuKmnaq5DyMTKDmwCLcBGAsYHQ/w488-h366/IMG_20211010_113916.jpg" width="488" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The first resting point was at the 2nd <i>Onti mara</i> (lone tree). The national park boasts of Lion tailed Macaques and Malabar Loris but they never really popped up in sight. The tiny flowers of the Fabaceae and Orchid family in yellow and purple were scattered across the slopes with tiny bees buzzing over them. He filled up his bottle at the last waterfall before the peak and drank the cold, sweet water as a reward of his efforts. Kudremukh means shaped like a horse but even from a distance it never really looked like a horse, quite like some of the constellations which pick a bare skeleton of stars and assign some intricate design such as Leo to it which is never really what would be your first guess. He reached the peak by 12:30 puffing and panting at the back of the group but with a sense of joy and achievement nonetheless. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The descent turned out to be tricky with light drizzles making it slippery and the numerous leeches ready to hook on and suck you dry. As his feet throbbed in pain he was reminded of the foreboding at the beginning of his bus ride but he gritted his teeth, reminded himself of the fake Mind over Matter essays that he had written and trudged his way back with his mind flooded with the thought "Never again!". But the feeling was short lived and as soon as he was able to take a hot bath and gulp down a meal he was confident of making this the first of many!</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div><br /><p><br /></p></div></div>Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803845054488759781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1923126506996145340.post-55081210442380513012021-08-07T09:17:00.002-07:002021-08-07T09:23:16.946-07:00A Patronus<p>There was a rumble in the sky as a dark pallor on the face of the sky floated in from the west. The faded blue hue was slowly being engulfed by the grey outlines of the incoming water saturated winds. The cool breeze soon picked up speed and started playing with unattended objects on the street. Bits of paper, loose bags and dust were mixed together into a mischievous concoction and designed into playful vortexes engulfing passer-bys with the glee of a child pranking his friends. Mothers and kids ran out to the roofs desperately trying to hold down the clothes put out to dry on the lines but the winds were unruly and snatched away a towel here, a shirt there and flew them like kites without a <i>manja. </i>The wind was however not done with its games and soon moved on to a new challenge and started trying to rip apart the plastic sheet roofs pinned down by bolts on a metal pipe. Nature has hardly ever been known for non-discrimination or a sense of mercy and like always the thatched roofs of the underlings were the first to be blown away.</p><p>Oblivious to the dark philosophical take on the situation, Rohan peeked out of the window grinning like he had won a year's supply of candy. He quickly ran out on the roof and leaned over the railing to watch the dust eddies on the road and was ecstatic to watch the clothes flying like kites. The clothes landed some distance away on the road and a few urchins picked it up and ran away. It was a <i>Kal-baisakhi </i>or a Nor'wester which he recalled from his geography lessons and it had totally brightened up his Sunday. He looked up at the sky and immediately sneezed. It always happened. Whenever he looked up at the sky he would sneeze - he had no idea why but he loved doing it.</p><p>The first few drops of rain hit him on the cheeks. The drops were really cold and it stung his face but the sensation was amazing. The feeling on his skin was akin to the taste of chilli on his tongue, only on a different sense organ. It soon started raining cold drops like pellets. Rohan crouched down near the roof boundary so that his back was protected but the drops hit his arms and legs from the front. He was shivering and hair on his hands stood on end as his body acclimatised to the cold. Rohan's head was clear of all thoughts solely focusing on the tingling nerves on his hands and feet spreading like electric! Sheer exhilaration! The corrugated asbestos on the edge of the roof was bent in the middle and all water rushed to the dip point and flew down like a waterfall and Rohan was soon running in and out of it. The small snails had come out of the soil in the pot with the bonsai banyan tree. They were slowly crawling out and some started climbing the <i>agarbatti </i>sticks in the soil - a remnant of the daily ritual where every evening Rohan's mom performed the evening puja or <i>saanjh, </i>waved an <i>agarbatti </i>in front of the bonsai banyan and tulsi tree praying to Vishnu and then planted the burning stick into the soil as the wafts of rose scented <i>dhoop</i> rose slowly and then dispersed into the heavens on its way to the Lord. Rohan was soon trying to race two snails, taking them out of the pot and placing them on the floor and making an imaginary start and finish line. Needless to say they both lost and never completed the race. </p><p>Rohan's mom had finally removed all clothes from the line and closed all windows, some half broken and secured with strings and others covered with plastic where the glass had broken as it banged to and fro in the wind. She looked outside the window and saw Rohan out in the rain "Rohan come inside ..you will catch a cold...Rohan, Rohan..."</p><p>"...Rohan, Rohan..Hey dude where are you lost?" asked Asha shaking the 30 year old guy lost in his thoughts .." I asked you a question - if you were a wizard what would be your memory to conjure a Patronus?" "Do you know?"</p><p>A serene smile spread across Rohan's face as he stood next to the open window and drops of Mumbai rain hit him on his cheeks and he said in a soft voice "Yes. Yes I do"</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803845054488759781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1923126506996145340.post-79158401671676762992014-08-31T15:24:00.002-07:002014-08-31T15:34:34.134-07:00Dream Diaries I<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Well I decided that I usually like my dreams and would like to keep a log of the interesting ones so here goes.<br />
<br />
Opening Scene:<br />
<br />
The authorities waiting outside some kind of park with darkness falling thick and dark. Its time for the park to close but they have kept the gate half open because a couple is yet to return. The daughter is standing outside waiting for her parents to come back. She has blonde hair and has a pretty dress on. She looks worried and is explaining why she did not stick with her parents. I think I have seen her before but I dont really want to accept who she is. The forest rangers have their guns ready and are pointing it at the gate when they see two people emerge from the foliage and rush towards the gate. The parents are here but they are white as a sheet.<br />
<br />
"We lost our way and couldn't find our way back to the road" blurted the Mom. The Mom had the same blonde hair as her daughter.<br />
<br />
"How? Are you alright" the Girl ran out to meet them<br />
<br />
"We heard the closing gong and panicked and somehow wandered further into denser bushes. We screamed but it was muffled by the trees.....and then we saw it. There is something out there..something strange..it was very fast..it whizzed past but we could feel its stench as it flashed past us..it was no animal or man.."<br />
<br />
"Thats all right. You need to rest. Let's go" the Dad comforted her and led them away from the gate. His jet black hair was in stark contrast to the other two family members. They silently walked away from the gate.<br />
<br />
The gate closed.<br />
<br />
Scene 2<br />
<br />
"We must be careful. We will need to stick to the plan and find out whats in there"<br />
<br />
I along with four other rangers went in on our bikes to investigate what the woman had encountered.<br />
<br />
"Keep your eyes peeled and your dart guns ready". We slowly moved into the forest till all we could see around us were gnarled roots and trunks covered with moss and lichen. The air was dank with moisture and even the sound of our bikes were muffled.<br />
<br />
All this while my vantage point were my eyes and I never saw my face or as a matter of fact the faces of my mates.<br />
<br />
A sudden movement to our right as something rushed by.<br />
<br />
"What was that? Lets move ...move into a slight clearing ahead"<br />
<br />
As we formed a circle to cover all angles and stood back to back we held our breath and cocked our guns. And then I saw it clear as day as it whizzed in front of me. There was no doubt about it - it was a white tiger on a bike and moving fast. Its eyes were red and the black stripes were etched magnificently on its white coat.<br />
<br />
I felt a swoosh as something slashed round my neck even as our darts missed the target and hit the tree trunks. Blood splashed across my eyes and I saw the tiger get up on a moving open back truck with five heads in his claws, blood dripping through his paws and a menacing look in its scarlet eyes as it stared right at me.<br />
<br />
My vantage point still remained over my shoulders, where my neck should have been.</div>
Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803845054488759781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1923126506996145340.post-82754252227254600262011-11-11T11:43:00.000-08:002011-11-12T01:50:52.812-08:00More About Life and ShitIt started slowly.Like the rays of the sun slowly kissing the hem of darkness and slowly blending into the fabric of time and space to concoct a altogether new entity- a change, a change to which you are forced to adjust no matter what. Only its sometimes hard to tell the dawn from the dusk specially if you have not really been paying attention to what was that had you besieged in the prior space (or time, but then space and time are interchangeable as some wild haired German guy with his tongue sticking out, would have us believe or maybe I just got that wrong but being from an <span style="font-style: italic;">elite</span> academic background or atleast believing that you do, has a compulsive character of forcing you into such statements and holding your ground defiantly).<br /><br />But then where was I? Yes. It started slowly. Like the end of a tablecloth catching fire from the last embers of a burning cigarette placed there by a mindless idiot who cant hear the cotton cringe as it burned itself to death. Not many care for the cotton you know; it is one of those things that PETA doesnt cover cause it is not alive enough for them or for some other group of those <span style="font-style: italic;">famous-would-like-to get-naked-with-nice-body-paint-on-our-body</span> groups to care about. Though I must tell you those PETA guys have some good photos in their gallery. I must remember to do something like that when I grow up. Grow up. Thats a good way of procrastinating things. Its a simple trick we learn as kids to dream of becoming drivers of UFOs and hoping to get there somehow in the end. Most end up as UFO's (<span style="font-style: italic;">Unidentified Fucked-up Objects</span>) but then thats a close miss. And when I say I want to be like that when I grow up I dont mean like the models, no I have too much hair in the wrong places for that (and <span style="font-style: italic;">maybe</span> I am missing some other nuances too), no I mean like I wanna become like Hugh Hefner. And damn that girl who refused to marry him in the end- she has got some <span style="font-style: italic;">balls</span>!!(maybe the reason why she refused in the first place but on second thoughts we should have seen them in the earlier editions of Playboy but then there is photoshop too..you never know anything for sure these days).Its good to dream.It gives you a reason.<br />But then it all starts slowly; a flash to a conflagration, an egg to a dinosaur or an omlette(okay maybe the omlette isnt as big as a dino still it is bigger than the egg).<br />You just have to keep hoping that it is the dawn not the dusk-maybe hoodwinking yourself but then thats ok-its called Choice.<br />So there.<br />PS: If the above doesnt make much sense to the sane maybe it is not for them or maybe because there isnt any there but then thats open to debate. Your chalk may be my cheese. But then enough with the disputable choice of arrangement of words and sentences. Bonjour.(Incidentally a folder in most of your C:/Programs folder too, a mere passing thought , thats all). But then bonjour is Hello ,isnt it?, but maybe thats what I mean , I dint say Hello before ,did I?Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803845054488759781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1923126506996145340.post-64539133326680862582011-07-31T05:25:00.000-07:002011-07-31T07:02:18.046-07:00IITBMumbai. My first love. You can call my school my first crush.After all that age is all about crushes, isnt it?The Campus - my very own Katrina Kaif. I specially loved the odd semesters. After a three month break I would be raring to go back to my own paradise. And the rains. I loved the rains. The first week of the semester- the cool wind blowing with a calm soothing touch to your face,the speakers filling up the room with the titillating tunes of "Nayan Tarse",a few drops of rain coming in from the windows-the whole blend gave me the high of a joint. No doubt I have abused the rains many a times for coming down the moment i stepped out for classes and drenching me to the bone but all that is easily forgotten and forgiven. Standing out in the wing allowing drops of cold water to to trickle down my face in thin streams brought an amazing calm to the mind, erasing all other thoughts. I never really grew tired of the incessent drizzle which often drove others nuts.(one of the reasons might be that I just stayed in my room or in the hostel enjoying the weather without having to worry about going out or anything - one of the many luxuries our dear old campus and iit curriculum allows us). I hope next weekend it will rain in mumbai when i am there.<br />Talking about the campus how can i not mention those awesome people who made life so much fun that just remembering their faces brings a stupid grin on my face. The campus is like a huge pot of khichdi with loads of vegetables and stuff; there are all kinds of genres of people available here, some to laugh at, some to laugh with and others for their own idiosyncracies. It is the people you get to laugh,live and learn with who really make life so freaking awesome. leaving them behind as life takes you apart is not the easiest thing to do for any of us. But the show goes on and you must come up with your philosophies to make all this bearable and even enjoyable. My own personal philosophy is - there will always be something worth to look forward to - u just have to look out for it. Moreover just knowing that these guys are out there and will never really forget you you feel more confident about going out and experiencing the new. Calling these people just friends doesnt really do justice to the nature of the relationship- they are more than just that -they are the makers of the best four years of my life and my greatest support.These are the people I have sat guffawing with in lectures, making lewd comments/jokes/cartoons and sharing every painful or weird thoughts with. These are the guys who know my strengths and weaknesses better than me myself and whom I adore more than anything. I could never really be sad with these guys around- the reason i could keep on smiling even during my valfi. See you all next week. :) tab tak ke liye izazat dijiye.Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803845054488759781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1923126506996145340.post-43695308643596796382011-01-24T01:26:00.000-08:002011-01-25T06:13:39.044-08:00Munaf ka BatWhat is the deal with Munaf Patel's bat?Understandably his bat has no sponsor stickers on them but why does he walk out with a bare piece of wood without any kind of embellishment whatsoever? He is a world class player and one would expect that his bank balance would allow the lad to buy some branded bats like maybe kookaburra or atleast reebok- instead he walks in with a stick which perhaps his mom used to beat clothes with and gave it to the young turk when he made a ruckus for a bat at home.Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803845054488759781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1923126506996145340.post-22533573234901727592010-09-15T07:17:00.000-07:002021-10-15T00:03:15.410-07:00Word List 40 <div><i>This is a story with the forced usage of all the words in GMAT Wordlist 40! Because, why not.</i></div><div><br /></div>The leaves quivered gently even as the cool redolent drafts caressed them with a motherly affection providing redress after the blazing heat of the noon. The ebbing slivers of light refracting from the broken pane adorned the refectory floor soothing the senses with its mildness- a pleasant respite from the reek of stale bread permeating the room. The refractory mouse scampered past the mouse-trap gingerly refraining from disturbing the week old piece of cheese.
Outside, the tea-stall owner sat scrubbing his kettles in a desperate attempt to refurbish them to their once regal refulgent glory but the ebony of time hardly ever bows to the redundant acts of man; yet while hope remains man perseveres –that is his wont and his strength.
Far off under the cool shade of the banyan sat the village bard regaling a throng of young urchins to a regimen of tales of regattas and regeneration and many a intriguing regicides of yore that he reminisced from his childhood. A rejuvenated expression illuminated his countenance even as he quelled an occasional rejoinder here and a quibble there and continued to enthrall his audience with lores of redoubtable wars and relegated kings. His repertoire with its myriad flavors evidently found great approval with his audience. Further down the shore two kids sat munching the remnants of their lunch-pack while the crows cawed in remonstration, seeking their fair share. Their remuneration came in the form of a hurled stone from the young lad.
The calm was soon lost as trumpets rend the silence announcing the arrival of a procession of gaudily dressed revelers going to a marriage ceremony. A herd of cows joined the rendezvous from the side with their rendition of bovine emotions, reneging the revelers a passage to pass. A few renounced the road to escape the onslaught only to get rents in their garments from the roadside brambles. The angry demands of reparation from the revelers only drew a remorseless repartee from the cattle-driver. While the altercation continued people started to repine and long for the repast while others made a beeline for the nearby liquor store to replenish their supplies.
Away from the melee, near the repository Aman sat poring over the newspaper. A surge of anger suffused through him as he went through the reprehensible and heinous acts of violence by the reprobate which had apparently drawn a strong and useless reprobation from the authorities. Repressing an overwhelming desire to tear the paper in two and cry out in repulsion and repugnance he reminded himself it was only a reprieve and he would be out of here in no time. But deep inside he knew there would be reprisals – they will requite this deed, they surely will. The cool redolent breeze still blew through the leaves but to his ears the sound was nothing more than a requiem.
This was a lot more impactful when i thought it out- believe me.It is supposed to be the first chapter of a very serious book/movie.It is supposed to be philosophical and slowly coming to the topic which is much more severe than the frivolities described before.And the end is supposed to be ironic. Anyway....Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803845054488759781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1923126506996145340.post-67962379026141675062010-06-22T03:39:00.000-07:002010-06-24T03:33:15.080-07:00Lessons From Germany<ol><li>Always pee before you go out anywhere.They charge you Rs 30 for a leak and in someplaces twice that amount!! Thats a bit more than 1 liter of orange juice!!It doesnt feel right to have to pay more for the end product than the raw material.</li><li>Dont put cooked vegetable in a covered bowl and place it on a chair in the corner of the room.You tend to forget about it and are then reminded of its existense by a innocent draft of wind which kind of chokes you with the lethal aroma it picked up on its way over the bowl. Then you suddenly realise why that one fly had come to reside with you the day before and in yet another naive move you lift the lid of the bowl. The next thing you know is waking up in the hospital.</li><li>Mixing dal and vegetables and cooking them together and then pretending that it is a soup is ok.</li><li>At first try to impart taste to the vegetable with judicious use of spices. But then if it doesnt work out, as is the case in more than one occassion just add ghee and be done with it. It takes care of everything.</li><li>If you ride a bicycle after many days, specially if the seat is a bit too high dont do it for too long.</li><li>They should add Maggi and Aloo Bhujia to the first aid box. A man dying from starvation wants nothing more.And achar to make even self-cooked stuff edible!!!</li><li>If you buy a bottle of wine you should have a corkscrew, else all you get is a pretty bottle sitting on your table which is not really what you paid for really.</li><li>You can drink tap water anywhere. You are an Indian-it is one of those appurtenances (ya i m learning new words, hence...and by the looks of it still stuck on 'A'..its a long way before I get to Z...zzzzz..i think that explains the connotation of zzzzzz...as a reference to sleep, u know coz u r done then so..) that you get along with your nationality. The bacteria simply enter the blood stream and say to each other 'Scope!' and slit their wrists.</li><li>Your head is a messed up place. Dont go too far in. U never know what u will find. Btw I found that last cookie in the packet of papad - I dunno how it got there - I thought I had put it in the drawer. It was a bit soggy though but still ...</li><li>If you think your jeans needs to be washed just keep it separate for sometime- after sometime it somehow looks very clean and wearable ...dunno how this works ..maybe relativity...</li><li>Never ever go to a german restaurant.They serve crap at the rate of gold. They probably think if the color is same so should be the rates.</li><li>You cannot abuse anyone for the terrible omlette you made, putting in a whole lot of salt pretending to be an expert chef who knows exactly how much salt makes it taste good. You sure do miss those three words ' Mummy khana do' or in case of the hostel 'Aaj tatti bana hai'.</li><li>Nikelodeon thinks that the only cartoon ever made was Spongebob Squarepants. There is even a channel which keeps showing a potato shaped character doing something or the other 24*7. </li><li>I have had so much carrot in the past few weeks that I can feel my ears along with my two front teeth growing longer and everytime I see a hole in the ground I feel like jumping in and join my fellow rabbits. Maybe I will see Wonderland and the Chesire Cat.</li></ol><p>To be continued....</p>Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803845054488759781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1923126506996145340.post-67391814536858288472010-06-15T06:37:00.000-07:002010-06-16T04:12:10.442-07:00Some Awesome one-liners/comments<ol><li>'DevD is important but it is not google' - Mayank (Sharma probably..dunno..yes and i must acknowledge that this was an excellent sm from someone who is not on my list of top ten people with an excellent sense of sm's)</li><li>'Abe bachpan me bhi mujhe Schrodinger equation nahi aati thi to kya us samay main sota nahi tha kya?'-once again our unequivocal king of one-liners Mayank Sharma when someone suggested that he should dedicate the night to study for the exam on the morrow as currently he was only as well acquainted with the concept as he was with the composition of rocks on Mars.</li><li>'Abe ye srojinder equation thoda samjha na'- contemporary genius Raunak Jain</li><li>'Is laash ko thikane laga do'- Matti after NCC camp and referring to his legs.</li><li>'Kitni haggi shakal hai be teri' - Shit in his indigenous shit style to ulti daya infi tatti</li><li>'Mujhe hai daalna' - the ending line to a gem of a poem by Shit</li><li>'I also dont like this chair over here' - Moharir sir ( u will get this one only if u were there when he said this) with the faint twitching of the corner of his mouth indicating his immense joy at being able to being able to use his favourite weapon-sarcasm.</li><li>'U dont look like a hero' - once again Moharir sir.Hail Fatta King. </li><li>'SIX!!!...mera matlab fuck!!!'- me on being suddenly awoken. Dunno. No explanation.</li><li>'Lagta hia prof ki maut ho gayi hia' - once again me .included in this list only becoz the prof was standing right behind me and tapped my shoulder and replied - ' I am here only'.</li><li>'I am bored' - CV on someone's presentation</li><li>'Abe agar mera chutiya kata to iska matlab yehi na ki main ab kam chutiya reh gaya' - Matti.</li><li>'Abe jahar hag ke aaya hai kya??' - Chari to Matti</li><li>'Lekin ye sab to shayad hum decide karenge na' - Chari in a totally innocent tone when the guy at the beach chalked out our schedule and expenses even before you can say put(or some other short word :P )</li><li>'Choooooooootiyaaaaaaaaa hai kya' - i need not tell u who :D</li></ol><p>I cant remember more at the moment but i m pretty sure that there are a countably infinite number of more such examples. They will be updated as soon as i chance to stumble upon them in some corner of my head which, by the way ,I have a lot of time to visit and explore.</p>Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803845054488759781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1923126506996145340.post-61822640635839581102010-06-11T03:58:00.000-07:002010-06-11T04:47:37.646-07:00Appendix to the last Post<p>I had Johnny Walker yesterday. Just to fortify my comments on the brand in my erstwhile post. No i aint turning into an alcoholic. I just went to a restaurant and saw it on the menu within affordable range and recognized that I could make my fortress of belief impregnable by interfering with my blood composition once again just for the sake of vindication. And I stand by my assertion : In small quantities alcohol is useless and in large quantities it tends to cause 'not-so-good' feelings. Its useful only in 2 exceptions- its too cold outside and u need to spend the night outside or if there is a party and u wish to go berserk. From now on I would prefer to be the person sitting on the same table with friends sipping free sprite and amuse myself with the antics of his fellow-sippers.</p><p>And these Germans have no taste.They eat crap. They eat food like what would be the first stage of processing for a normal Indian dish. Yesterday i just had a stupid big (toooo big) potato boiled, cut in half,cream poured over it with some leaves- they dint even take off the skin!!! basically saala aloo chokha tha wo bhi bana ke nahi diya tha!!!! I felt like a goat eating grass off a field who was lucky enough to have pulled hard at some shrub and found a boiled potato in the roots.</p><p>I liked bowling though. it is fun. And German TV is good.</p><p>PS: I realized the PhD guy is like the future version of Behera.Shit.</p>Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803845054488759781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1923126506996145340.post-14895445042414642932010-06-10T03:53:00.000-07:002010-06-11T02:35:46.063-07:00A Letter to an old acquaintance<p align="justify">Dear Alkohol,</p><p align="justify">I hate u. From the bottom of my heart. I loathe u.I hate u in all variety,size,color, odour,taste and packaging...maybe i like the packaging..but otherwise i hate u.I dont care if u r a Johnny Walker or Crappy Cripple. I have been enlightened now and i realise that u r useless and would like to see no more of u.</p><p align="justify">First you dont taste good.No.Never. Munchings and snacks have to take the responsibility of killing your taste. Its only when we become numb and cant taste u anymore that it becomes alright. </p><p align="justify">And whats with the hoodwinking people by coming in so many useless varieties - beer, vodka,wine,whisky blah blah....We being the fools that we are we just walk into the trap and are like 'chal yaar aaj ye try karte hian'. Its all crap. There is no different drink.Its the same u in ur one of the many putrid tasting reincarnations. Burn in hell Agent of Debauchery. (i think they do -there would be a lot of those flame shots in hell i guess...dats what hell is all about isnt it...though i dunno why has hell got to be burning and red?? maybe they spill a lot of flame shots and take pics in the sunset mode).</p><p align="justify">Then i tend to get carried away and drink a whole lot of u and then talk rubbish and do weird stuff (thats the only good part , i would say). But soon i get nauseated and all the fun is lost as I feel like all the water is gone from my body and am about to die. Then someone hs to help me to my room before or after which I turn the contents in my inside out which I assure u is not the best of experiences to say ther least.</p><p align="justify">Where did I get enlightenment from?? No,I dint sit beneath any banyan tree ...I just had a vial of truth...literally. 500ml of wine inside me did the trick. With that amount of alcohol mucking up my blood composition I went kaput. In the haze I remember having tried to call her like a zillion times but my phone refused to connect me but like a perfect money sucking network provider, reduced my account balance to zero (this is how these people get rich-fuck them!!).Then I dutifully went to the WC (water closet-thats what these germans call the heaven where we can eject all our secretions and excretions and get ready to reduce another batch of nutrients into stinking deposits which often turn into manure in our farmlands thereby increasing the fertility of mother nature-dunno what mother nature likes about it but then everyone is entitled to his own taste- and helping us grow more and more material to turn into a heap of stinking agglomerate- life is a beautiful and smelly cycle, isnt it ? :) )....so yea WC it was where I gave birth to the Alkohol's son -The Puke-3 times and then finally passed out on my bed. Suddenly woke up like a jack-in-a-box at a most uncomfortable 2:30 am to find the TV still running in mute, the light still on and me having no clue as to my co-ordinates. Slowly as lady comprehension and sir realisation touched my inner soul and the light of understanding swept across my mind I once again embraced the tangible world. </p><p align="justify">The TV being still on was actually a good thng ;). I took joy in entertainment as provided by the cable company at that holy hour and then turned to MTV (yes no typo here) and let the songs play while I went off to sleep. However I dint recede into the comfort of slumber untill 5 and then finally switched off the TV and snored peacefully till 8-30. On my arrival to the world from dreamland ( where also I watched some strange yet interesting episodes) I found the last half a glass of Poison still there on the table which I vehemently flushed down the sink where it once again got assimilated in the vermin from which it arose.</p><p align="justify">And hence the Devil was defeated. (U may not really see how but it makes a good ending line so dont crib)</p>Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803845054488759781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1923126506996145340.post-5655388226858512952010-04-03T03:47:00.000-07:002010-04-03T04:28:12.718-07:00Grumble grumble :DIts not done!!why me of all people??How many times has it happened to you that you reach a counter after sweating in the sun for hours only to find the guy behind the counter , totally impervious to your clamour to invoke the milk of human kindness, bang close the counter on your face and go off with an unspoken " Fuck you!". This might be an exaggeration to what might have happened to me yet it conveys the message pretty clearly, doesnt it? You stand in a queue after almost one year in a bank to get your passbook updated and the printer runs out of ink or simply refuses to work as soon as it is your turn. You go running to a station counter for tickets and the guy tells you its already 8 and the system doesnt work after that and listlessly turns the age-old stained computer monitor on your face and points to the watch as evidence, which like any well behaved clock in the locality shows you the time 8:00pm. Even before you can realise that the clock will obviously show the time and that it is no proof that the sytem has stopped vending out tickets the guy is gone with the smoothness of a spectre mingling into the darkness. You stand there staring and cursing under your breath or maybe you are not so subtle if you are the brash type. <div><br /></div><div>More often than nought its not a matter of sheer impunity but of chance and you are left wondering what could you have possibly done to be among the elite few to be a a part of the event.You go running to the mess very late hoping to get something when you find the last piece of pakoda being picked up by the person in front.Today for example everything was going smooth until I got there. Somehow the heater just went cold as it was my turn. Had Dushyant been there he would have commented in his concerned tone" Abhi tak to acha bhala garam tha. Achanak thanda kaise pad gaya?" :D .</div><div><br /></div><div>Chalo koi baat nahi aise bhi bahut din se blog update nahi hua tha.isis bahane kar diya.</div>Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803845054488759781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1923126506996145340.post-65621953049480891102010-01-26T22:24:00.000-08:002010-01-26T23:15:48.253-08:00A Discovery!!!Its weird how adages and idioms tend to come alive right in your face without you even knowing when it happened and you can see the "wise" ones staring at you with a pompous and sanctimonious smirk ethched right across their guileful faces.However its nothing so serious really, just my imagination runs a bit wild and exaggeration is fun- thats all.There was no wise man staring down on me or anything ,even if there was it was me myself in my saintly avatar (to be imagined with a flowing white beard and a halo and rudraksh mala and all). Talking of rudraksh i think that was a movie- a crappy one at at that...digressing a bit ...what is the difference between crappy poop and poopy crap???...anyway hey and do you know what is the deo that saints like??it is rudr-axe!! Do not stare at me like that ..it is a good pj...budding artists are never appreciated unless they get hold of some award which you never heard of but people tell you is a prestigious one and then you start liking the very same work that you wouldnt have given a damn about a day before.....its the same with movies -some group of weirdos decide to call some movie a classic and "tasteful" individuals devour them like bees on honey.I am not saying that all of the classic movies are like that but most of them are...and i am not open for an argument on that!!Specially if you cant decipher head or tail of a movie then the movie is guaranteed to make it to the "classics" roster. Also modern art...I mean what is it??I f I throw a dozen colours around on a canvas it isnt art but when the same thing is done by the "acknowledged" artists it means something "deep" which "you wont understand". If I draw a nude its perversion if they do it is art....damn injustice thats what it is.These guys are just good at mass hypnosis thats all.<div><br /></div><div>Anyway why did I start this post?Oh yeah..its nothing as I told you in the beginning.Just that a professor was harping too much on the fact that we need to get to get a certain book or else he will slit us open or something like that..I think it wasnt so gory but who cares..and I tried to get the book from many seniors but couldnt ..I even thought of buying it but the shop was closed- talk about being pulled back by fate at every step - or you can be a bit less melodramatic and blame it on my ill timed endeavours, whichever suits you.However after all this I remembered that there is a place for people like me (not a mental asylum...let me complete the statement) who are looking for books they dont have but need very urgently-it is called The Library-the ethereal sacred ( i thought i would use the word ecclesiastical but then it would be too obvious that I picked it up from the thesaurus..moreover I dont even know how to pronounce it or if the usage would be correct) morgue of the dead trees of yore, and I did find the book there!!So you see pretty mundane this whole thing was...</div><div><br /></div><div>You see the I never thought of the library because it simply doesnt suit my interiors- the library hates my guts literally -every time I step in there ,within 5 minutes the pressure in my large intestine ( I think its that) starts building up without any provocation whatsoever and as soon as I walk out its normal once again.So you see its natural that I did not think of it before.Thats all for the moment i guess...I will notify you in case of any such further developments.</div><div><br /></div><div>P.S- I think my cycle is missing again.</div><div>P.P.S-P.S I love you is too full of senti...it is not as good as people make it sound like. </div>Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803845054488759781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1923126506996145340.post-25637231954740591522010-01-20T05:38:00.000-08:002010-01-20T06:10:57.435-08:00FuckThink I blew it..damn...After coming so far ..I was almost sure ..why did it have to be this way??Why asshole why?just shat over it..all over ...it stinks from far off ...ass...Seems like I ran with the speed of light around a tree...damn the 4th law.<br /><br />Finally cooling off, forgiving yourself aint an easy task ..you cant even kick yourself in the ass and you dare not ask anyone else..he might just take the thing a bit too far for my own comfort..after all its my own ass. cover your ass and run or was it cover your head??<br /><br />Attained room temperature or approaching it from the right in accordance to Newton's Law of Cooling ....Newton again!!why do you always pop up at every fucking place and screw with others??this reminds me of a terrific Murphy's Law "Get hold of a guy's balls and his mind and soul will follow":D..not that it has any connection with this post..just remembered it from someone else's status message ...<br /><br />Anyway back to square one the fearless traveller (that being me) moves ahead with renewed vigour and determination...(just to make it sound dramatic)...back to his awesome ways because "There is no charge for awesomeness"....If you are lost as to what am I saying do not worry ,I just wanted to use the statement :PAashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803845054488759781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1923126506996145340.post-34720806989338475642010-01-19T14:02:00.001-08:002010-01-19T14:02:47.076-08:00Paila Paila PostDear Blog(I am guessing that is how you start a blog given its diary counterpart)…I have no idea why I did this but I have finally created a blogging account (cheers..whoooo clap clap!!!) and this is, as is quite obvious my first post.Come on, dont expect me to come up with smart and interesting lines now, I am new and nervous…naah …just kidding …I dont have anything smart up my sleeve rite now (is it rite now or write now??…rite now i hope…ohh sorry it is right now…damn these sms habits).And anyway its 3 in the morning and I need to sleep ,not that I am sleepy but then The Book of Protocols dictates that I should.And its not as if I am doing anything worthwhile anyway..might (yeah got this one correct!!) as well turn off my system and restore my tissues.<br />Dont blame me if you dont like the post ..I never asked you to read it in the first place…”no one is going to read anyway my son” -says the Great Inner Voice…”ya thanks..you dont have to rub it in or as one of my friend says ghoshe dhokate hobe na <img src="http://s.wordpress.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_razz.gif" alt=":P" class="wp-smiley" /> “<br />And also dont critisize my formatting skills…and shut up Mr Inner Voice.Aashishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803845054488759781noreply@blogger.com0