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)?????????

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

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

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.