My last few days haven't been very good.I lost my calculator.I lost/misplaced the calculator which i borrowed to make for the original loss. Not that the absence of a calculator contributed heavily to my downfall in the recent exams but for all practical purposes that shall be my official excuse. I also need to change my room in which i have happily settled like fungus on its walls. Living in f-47 but officially assigned g-50 you can excuse a man of my alertness for committing the himalayan blunder of filling in f-50 in the official record. There is no net in my room and probably in the entire Govind bhawan. PnI, my branch, was all out for colossal score of 1 run(thanx to a wide) in the Intra-Govind Bhawan Cricket league while i was enjoying and trying to drown myself in Rishikesh( a saving grace in these low days of mine). Our(yes, i am a branch man) loss was compounded by the fact that the opposition team somehow made 60 runs in just 5 overs. My TT skills seem to be going down the more i play and the less i play the lesser my skills can be quantified.Super senior Jaggi of EDC fame wants me to write some articles of a news letter and all i want to do right now is take a voluntary(temporary) retirement scheme from this campus. Also these days, my old school day dreams of being a management grad with a big suitcase of cash and a tux leave me feeling sad and vacuous.Nobody seems to be accepting my friend requests on facebook and the scheme i contrived for having 1000 friends ASAP is in tatters in the true sense of the word.

You may breathe for one line.

But as all epic cribbing posts this one also promises to be one, at least in the magnitude of problems if not also the number. I had realised in class 10 that i wasnt exactly allergic but at the same time also not very receptive to permanent colours. This realisation of mine has had no influence on the external world or so it seems because year and year again i get plastered in the choicest of permanent colours. While my plastering session was going on and i was trying to calculate the time i will have to spend(in parsecs and light years) taking a shower our Chief Warden appears and ta-da...

We have to pay a pittance of a fine of RS2000 inr(per person) for playing Holi. The shock and surprise were way to dominant for emotions like fear or resentment and before we could plead or attack,the Chief Warden was in his home(probably playing holi).

But then India made 401, Dhoni made 64 and Sachin made history.

And so will i.

(PS: i did cause flutter in UG annals of time although didnt make history altogethor.

I had almost missed Sachin's double ton.Even while watching, i got confused and assuming the penultimate over to be the last one i exhausted my entire vocab of expletives ably assisted by my vocal chords on to poor Dhoni. This behavior of mine generated a lot of surprise among the general crowd and embarrassment among the guys with gals.)

(PPS:Qayamat ki raat, up in Neelam is true masterpiece. Watching it after having bunked Physics class made realise true greatness (of the movie and to some extent mine).The movie is a Tarantinoish work with multiple plots so varied that they belong to different movies altogethor.)

Even this too will pass.

Time to go back home and chill.

Happy Holi to all.

HappY BddaY BaGGa

I am writing a poem

which inspite of my hardest efforts seems to still have exceptionally long lines

But i shall try my best

To put them to rest

As i write this poem

This poem will be deep

So if you are one of those dumb eternal patients of bathophobia

You better stop

Else u'll gradually drop

As death upon u will creep

On the other hand

If you rather prefer being murdered than committing suicide yourself

You may continue

Be my retinue

Lets build castles of sand

Continuing on the other hand

If you think i used the phrase "castles of sand" just to match with hand

You are a moron grand

For i could i have used land

and band,and gland and ...band

Just to match with hand

Castles of sand are but empty dreams

But to be washed away by the waves

of life, misery and facial creams

And forgotten in the sickly graves

I long for oneness ad nobility

And of light from darkness within

But as i look at my fragility

i shudder from my own sin

But as the innocent hand

that never leaves

the castle of sand

which never lives

I too shall build and strive

to make that castle on the shore

so that when the wave will strike

I can fall no more.