meandering musings of a caligynephobic

WHAT’s Da CatcH.

2011-01-12T10:32:00.000-08:00

A dude called Horace once said that you need to Carpe Diem. Apart from sounding really scholarly, practioners and procrastinators attest that there could be some semblance of truth in what he said. But sometimes we are just too happy to become comfortably numb to our mundane existence. We waste the winters in, well, wasteful activities and ruin the summers frolicking and listening to Pink Floyd.
“Some men are born mediocre, some men achieve mediocrity, and some men have mediocrity thrust upon them.” ---- on Major Major, with whom it had been all three.
Okay, I confess I have been harsh here. I have no right to generalize my way life for everyone of my noble readers and voters . Because honestly, I have no idea what you did last summer. This is not because I don’t care for or respect you, my dear reader and voter. If there is anything that even a thankless brute of genius like me values, its fellow renegades like you, my dear reader and voter. And also votes. And comments. As a matter of fact I also value money, ice cream, football, foosball and deodorants. But that is not the point. The point is that I value you. And votes. And if there is any reason I don’t remember what you did last summer it is just that my mind and consequently my power of recollection atrophies and hibernates in winters.

And stays that way during the rest of the year.

Digressing a bit from our philosophical ruminations, I must bring to the attention of my dear reader and voter (I shall herewith use only “voter” to imply “reader and voter” to reduce the length of this post *) to the really witty way in which I opened this post. I have cleverly encompassed all topics that we were given the choice to write on, thereby proving effectively my command over the concept of blogging and comment earning. Not that I harbour any doubt whatsoever that you could have missed such a legendary legerdemain but there are chances, howsoever small, that unseasoned voters* (unseasoned to my blog) could misunderstand the nuances of my avant-garde style of writing as insane ramblings. Although pretty much it’s the same thing but a nuance still exists.
I know you are desperate for me to illuminate and enlighten you from the tome of my erudite Weltanschauung. And I won’t test your patience. A thing, you, my dear voter*, should always remember is that to understand what great writers write, you must be clear about their way and style of writing. As an example, notice my style of prose at places where I have highlighted, italicized and underlined it. Alliteration (as it appears in” legendary legerdemain” )and command over English vocabulary (as can be seen in usage of “avant-garde”) are just some of the styles that give you, dear voter*, a sneak peek into my psyche. And that will help you understand and profit from my philosophy more comprehensively.
My philosophy is that you don’t need to Carpe Diem. Rather you should lead the lead the remaining of your limited life at your own pace. In fact the slower the better. Live your life in the present and for a better tomorrow all you need to do is believe that tomorrow never comes. I believe you should not worry about mediocrity, mundaneness or being numb to everything, comfortably or otherwise.

I end this post here somewhat abruptly because I don’t feel like writing any more. In case you want to know more about philosophy I will refer to you this book called catch 22 and another book called Bhagvad Gita. They are a pretty decent read for humans.

And probably Gods too.

“You know, that might be the answer - to act boastfully about something we ought to be ashamed of. That's a trick that never seems to fail.”
----Colonel Korn to Colonel Cathcart

Please vote for my classy post.

Vote for me now!

Sophie's world?

2010-12-05T09:20:00.001-08:00

The Philosopher's Drinking Song

"Immanuel Kant was a real pissant
who was very rarely stable.
Heidegger, Heidegger was a boozy beggar
who could think you under the table.
David Hume could out consume
Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel,
And Wittgenstein was a beery swine
who was just as sloshed as Schlegel.

There's nothing Nietzsche couldn't teach ya
'bout the raisin' of the wrist.
Socrates himself was permanently pissed.

John Stuart Mill, of his own free will,
after half a pint of shandy was particularly ill.
Plato, they say, could stick it away,
'alf a crate of whiskey every day!
Aristotle, Aristotle was a bugger for the bottle,
and Hobbes was fond of his Dram.
And Rene Descartes was a drunken fart:
"I drink, therefore I am."

Yes, Socrates himself is particularly missed;
A lovely little thinker, but a bugger when he's pissed."

-- Monty Python

a song

2010-12-03T02:28:00.001-08:00

"Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.
Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come followin' you.

Take me on a trip upon your magic swirlin' ship,
My senses have been stripped, my hands can't feel to grip,
My toes too numb to step, wait only for my boot heels
To be wanderin'.
I'm ready to go anywhere, I'm ready for to fade
Into my own parade, cast your dancing spell my way,
I promise to go under it.

Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.
Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come followin' you.

Though you might hear laughin', spinnin', swingin' madly across the sun,
It's not aimed at anyone, it's just escapin' on the run
And but for the sky there are no fences facin'.
And if you hear vague traces of skippin' reels of rhyme
To your tambourine in time, it's just a ragged clown behind,
I wouldn't pay it any mind, it's just a shadow you're
Seein' that he's chasing.

Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.
Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come followin' you.

Then take me disappearin' through the smoke rings of my mind,
Down the foggy ruins of time, far past the frozen leaves,
The haunted, frightened trees, out to the windy beach,
Far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow.
Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free,
Silhouetted by the sea, circled by the circus sands,
With all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves,
Let me forget about today until tomorrow.

Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.
Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come followin' you."

Emo Shun

2010-05-22T13:07:00.000-07:00

What the f man. I am a looser. I have realised that i only blog when i am at home and vella squared. What does this mean? I always used to think writing came first and foremost for me among the various forms of The Art . The plausible explanations are that either i have no interest in writing grub (which is obviously untrue) or i have no aptitude for it (due to which my brain keeps pulling me back from this strenuous activity whenever i embark upon it). Or my attitude towards a blog.

I have come across many an awesome blogs which have momentarily spurred to me to passionate madness about blogging. Then i sit down to belt out a masterpiece but before i know, 2 hrs have passed and i am on my Facebook account adding random but totally interesting strangers. I had avowed once that whatever i write shall always be of the fun, humour genre, at the very least light and non critical stuff. But majority of the times i end up in hyper serious analysis of things so trivial like why to write what to write.

So finally i have decided to apply the Kao philosophy to my travails and find a solution here and now. From now on i am going to “ Keep it Real”. This is to say that rather than looking at my blog as a literary review or critique or jokes site or self deprecating humour page , i will now see it as a modestly honest journal that keeps a track of events around me. Something of a sashay between a true Diary and a true Blog. All this because i know i am seriously going to love it when i have like 100 posts to guide me down the memory lane and remind of the events that happened. For the emotions that events arose in me at that time, i guess their ephemeral nature is best left undisturbed. Its always good to look at old things in new ways.

2010-02-25T06:01:00.000-08:00

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

2010-02-03T00:47:00.000-08:00

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.

2010-01-15T12:10:00.000-08:00

2009-12-25T22:44:00.000-08:00

This post owes its existence to facebook.I had resolutely decided that on the 26 dec 2009,i will login into that "no adjectives can sum it up" site,no more than once.I did not set any time for logging out as i did not want to be too hard on myself.Moreover this was purely an experimental action without any aim.It did not have the remotest of relation to "NEW YEAR RESOLUTIONS",which i consider to be an unnecessary exercise of futility and vanity.Unfortunately i had devoured my stipulated quota at 12.01am and at about 12.20 in the midst of a highly entertaining chat,the light went off destroying my scheme to exploit the only lacuna of my experiment as elucidated in line2 of the post.luciferous, i tell you.

This is why in the morning,after finishing with the newspaper i felt extremely vacuous and to stave of the devilish fatuities of an empty mind,i am posting.So much for the environment that resulted in this miracle,now the issue.
Of late i have been thinking.Before your "spasmodic sarcastic stunningly stupid smile" at this obviously intended self deprecating humour let me add that i was thinking about the "7 deadly sins",an issue barely dwelt upon by the minds of the average mortals.Although (unfortunately)inspired by a facebook quiz,the nobility of this introspection must not be clouded by its very "un" bourgeois source. And yet again,although i wrote the last statement as a commentary to the reader,the thought that facebook was a low pedestal for the highly intellectual me, was my very first thought,undoubtedly a product of my own pride.I seriously feel angry at myself for my convoluted thoughts.But i will have to end this post on an inconclusive note without going into the details of what i actually thought about those sins, else it will become too long.Undoubtedly this is an excuse garbed for my "slothiness" and the impeding lunch time where with 5 days to vacations getting over,i know i will eat like a glutton.Another reason why i wish to end this post midway is because i need a topic to write in future.GOD,how i envy those guys who just need their pens to produce epics and with the advent of laptops not even that.
On this inconclusive incoherent note i end,looking forward to what promises to be a tortuous day.What the frikin' hell was it that i wrote on fb to which "Really? No No No.. I don't agree!It's all farce.. I tell you!"was the response(as my gmail faithfully tells me)?????????

2009-12-13T21:34:00.000-08:00

I have just finished reading 2 states.Now i have Vanity Fair in my hands. And i find both books to be incomparable in their own right, employing different means to the same effect of making you smile.Earlier i used to think of Chetan Bhagat as nothing more than a lucky brat whose only talent was in making crass overblown plots ,enticing people with something that was just within the boundaries of reality but still quite far from it.I remember there was a lot of discussion regarding whether he had any talent or did he just capitalise upon the "iit youth factor" stimulating popular imagination with heretic lies,which the common masses would love to believe.Undoubtedly,many novellas would have scaled far worse a cheapness limit for the sake popularity and to make up a sniggering read.However they contained themselves to existing elements that constitute "Cheapness", unlike our enterprising iitian who found out many new tools to enter uncharted domains of tawdriness.But at the end of the day,we the readers "get what we deserve" argument quelled my highfalutin conscientiousness attitude.I had to confess that i couldn't put down "5 point someone(based on a true story) what not to do at an iit" written by an 8.5 someone whose most indiscretionary act in his campus life was stealing snide side glances at his warden"s daughter a mile afar.Implicating myself among the "low intellect,low brow" Indian crowd who could only produce,criticise,make fun,desist others and still watch K serials and Bollywood bonanzas,i felt bad.I considered this implication an incrimination.But then,if i can belt out lines like the previous one and steal from my neighbour's wifi,i realized pretty soon that it would best if i throw my shame to the winds and go hakuna matata.

With time i grew up.Mr bhagat came out with more novellas.He got his next two books to stand in this white collar world without any qualification from iit's or iim's.And then his next kiddo 2 States had an iim degree and an engrossing plot to carry his legacy forward.
I wont commence on its book review here.But sometimes, dregs of my leftover attitude did poke and rekindle the old "cheapness debate" flames whereupon i tried to euphemistically categorise all such works under "strength of the plot" category( in comparison to "strength of writing style").
But right now,i am in the hands of the masterpiece called Vanity Fair((the novel(without a hero)) which promises to clear the skeletons in my cupboard.How this will happen will involve my commenting upon this great work,a task to which i consider myself totally unequal.I seriously have no "aukaad" to use this work in anyway apart from quoting from it.And of course recommending it to fellows with confusions similar to mine.God bless satire.

"Those who think the entire world is foul to them are the ones who truly deserve it the most."

lessons of life

2009-07-24T13:31:00.000-07:00

my mom didnt relent even before the penultimate day i was leaving for iitr.i find her a bit too sadistic for a mom but she is a mom nevertheless.Everyday she used to allow me to sleep till nine o clock summoning all her motherly affection to make sure i wasnt disturbed by my vociferous dad and sis who are getting ready for work.even after that she never woke me up ,at least not in the traditional throwing water on the face style.she just use to push the curtain asideand let sunrays filter through the window mesh.i have always loved reading poetry and prose about the early morning sun knocking at doors and making crowing cocks bersek.but in delhi summers, a more apt description of the soft sunrays(at 9 o clock) could be obtained from the accounts of survivours of hiroshima nagasaki about little boys and fat men.having just read exodus and watched the pianist i cudnt help myself relating to the third degree torcher in aushwitz.to top it up,my mom placed my breakfast(idli,4 peices) and glass of milk besides me on the table wich such thunderous clanking that i felt like being killed and then buried and demurely alive at the same time(schrodinger's man).even if died after waking up like this i wud have to drag my dead body to the washroom(where these days i am trying to perform my abultions as prescribed herehttp://www.sulabhtoiletmuseum.org/fact.htm ) as i hate my food cold above all(even above supersonic booms and solar flares in my eyes).sorry for the blasphemous overblown allusions and metaphors but believe me u honestly wudnt want a morning to start anyway like that.

lesson one:women and elephant never forget.and when the lady in question is ur mum.....god forbid)

the journey was not arduous,when it started.the green fields looked elegantly beautiful.but 8 hours and a bus,tempo,car lift and rickshaw ride later i wasn't in my pleasantest of moods.but the serene campus coupled with a pleasant weather tripled with the absence of the vast flow of humanity elevated the flagging me .while i was fumbling my pockets for some non existent change and making non commital actions about the issue to the equally non commital rickshaw guy who seemed totally convinced that it was solely my ethical, moral, social and religious duty to find, borrow, beg and perform other manegirial actions to get the elusive change .in walks, an arbit matka guy with the happiest smile running over his face from pole to pole.he seemed much more concerned than either of us at the audacious challenge of the issue offered.i promptly asked him if he had change for 100 rs as i had been to various other people who heroically backed off after profuse apoligies.but his guy asked how much was actually to be paid, took out rs 30 which was the actual amount the squatting rickshaw puller (whose languid behaviour was very appaling with his money at stake)remembered with some difficulty and paid him with such satisfaction that i felt worse than the poorest of beggars.when i tried to recover myself and my lost pride by asking him his name and room number,he just waved me off bestowing a majestic grin on the rickshaw puller who was now a picture of alertness and was watching me with weary respect and apprehension.he probably thut i had the exemplary capacity to bewitch unwary strangers into giving me green and thus promptly fled from the spot.

lesson two:

sleeping on a reading room table in my vests and shorts would never get me the blessings of godess saraswati.but it got me three hours of sleep,refuge from mutant millitant mosquitoes and the sweet breeze of a fan in powerless r land where breeze stood still like a painted main building upon a painted campus.of course when i woke up and craned my neck i felt i had dislocated my entire body.but then,looking at people sleeping blissfully on tables so unabashedly at a place where mid night oil is burnt to conquer the bewithcing lady sleep(i love using lady luck and sleep.....these two prove that there is still hope in this gender biased english language where men conviniently account for the entire human race) and being a part of this prepostorous crime is something i will always cherish in my life.

lesson 3:its better to lose health like a spendthrift than to waste it like a miser.

when a great person whose singing talents will make a eudynamys scolopacea blush(euphemism for put to shame) called me and informed that my facebook profile was going all wierd.........the coffee of ccd drained away from my oesophagus like the blood from my head.to asses the impact of the damage i asked here what all eccentricity was going go in response to which she dutifully read all my latest posts from my hacked account stopping at a point where i instinctively realised no amount of cajoling will make her read further.i dont like getting myself insulted except for a cause extraordinaire like saving a life or something of this sort.but even then i dont think i will write on a social net working site about my orientations incorrect.

lesson 4:there is a lull before storm .but then after winter cometh spring again.its love,forgiveness and friendship that make life worth living actually.

ps:e e cunninghams found me as his latest follower.

pps:i promise i wont ever write like this again .its just the circumstances which are making me seek for an outlet .do bear with me.

ppps:this world will be a better(silent) place if people dont discuss about time travel.

first things first

2009-06-26T22:36:00.000-07:00

It's with great trepidation that I start this blog.Hopefuly it will go away as it proceeds.An unrelentingly stubborn attitude since my childhood days has been to ask myself why before anything and everything and whenever I found the awnser to be nothing I went ahead with my anythings and everythings.Before anybody assails me with accusitions of leading purposeless and meaningless life i must spring up my defenses.The question why, is unawnserable.Every why has a why preceding to it.You can always awnser a how,when,what,where with a self surprising alacrity (and brag about it later)but a why will always stop you dead on your tracks.Hence the question why should i start a blog met with awnser that exists before your eyes.The more realistic question of how his slothiness will maintain it is quite troubling.at this juncture a henry ford quote springs to my mind..."nobody can think straight who does not work for laziness warps the mind".i must say quotes of virtue and fear have an uncanny resemblance.Both erupt in mind at the least pleasant and most inconvinient moment.But then for the time being i shall rest my thoughts that my venerable readership can actually make the question of my maintaining this blog pretty useless with little effort on their part.

I must say I am a great fan lee iacocca.apart from his enemity with henry ford ,my following this great man also arises for him being an industrial engineer and an admirer of the question why.

in his best selling autobiography(which i brought really cheap from dilli gate and would firmly recommend the place to the still uninitiated) he starts of with tackling the question why he wrote the book,here is an excerpt:

"why did i write it?certainly not to become famous.the telivision ads for chrysler have already made me more famous than i ever wanted to be.and i didn't write it to get rich.i already have every material thing a person would need.that's why i am donating every penny i earn form this book to the joslin diaetes center in boston"
unfortunately,due to my lack of both fame and riches but still a desire salvage a moral victory for my logic forces me to justify this blog a bit.
I shall be writing this blog as a thanksgiving,an ode to my circuitous life at every turn of which i have found pleasant surprises.in particular,i owe my thanks iitr,wona and litsec,a heart warming gratitude which i shall never need to express(the pioneering words:in dosti,no friendship,no thanks,come to mind).I always went through great blogs during my schooldays but its only because of some of the more awsomer personalities that I metamorphesized from writing the selfcentred diary(due to some fiendish schoolteachers:write your personaldiary in the two months hols and show it to me!) to this open blog.This blog also owes its existence to nargis,pallavi and kahsmaksh,zindagi ki which are presently being watched by my mother on the altar of passive entertainment,whose grim and eternal sadness have forced me to look for an "unrest cure"and hence inspired to my present endevour.the first three italicized words refer to to hindi serials and that to on dd 1 (sorry)and the latter italics contain the name of one of the greats short stories i have ever read by my favouritest author.

ps:My future posts may contain poems and short stories and long words........i may suffer from caligynephobia but not hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia(a rapu-eseque duh,it means fear of long words).I shall always consider pneumononoultramicroscopisillicovolcanoconiosis in my fifth class and wona interview as my finest moments.

pps:The genre will be mostly comic for saki and calvin and hobbes are my greatest inspirations in life.This can also be seen as a rebellion against mademoiselles pallavi,nargis et al who seem to be married to unhappiness both literally and metaphorically.
ppps:Contrary to what others may say or feel,I happen to like pp..s.they are a pretty to useful tool to assail the reader with unnecessary and unsettling information.

With this I rest my case.