He greeted me through a pair of rusty eyes, with the panache of a seasoned steward. He was warm but hardly affectionate. Without wasting time on the conventional introductions, he frisked towards the college building. Meanwhile I poked him with a set of questions on how he found the place, are people rude to him, how nasty are the professors. He remained skillfully silent. As we passed a faintly resembling eatery, I asked him if he had adjusted to the food. He looked back and barked.
He is Cuckoo, the college-residential dog who is now a great pal or do I say the only great pal I have. We became friends whining about our daily dining. He told me he looked garishly suave four-months ago when he absconded from his place of birth. To me, he looked multiple shades darker than the dogs I had been with in Delhi. He was severely lanky for his age and breed. He told me he had lost 7 kg’s since then. i obviously believed him.
Like me, he was petrified of intellectual dogs. And here we found them in abundance, in all shapes and sizes, and fairly uniform colour. Establishing a classroom outside their own, under a lone standing tree. Thankfully, there is only one tree. They talked about the artillery of Che Guevera while we raved about the culinary of colonel Sandlers. They lamented about global pricing of crude oil, we hoped for an increase in the price of coconut oil (we bathed in).
I was more unfortunate than cuckoo when it came to suffering. Dogs were not allowed inside the hostel. Or should I say canine of the IQ equivalent to Cuckoo's. Rules were laid, highly atypical of what one associates with hostel. “kindly flush the pot after excreting” “ensure that buckets are filled with water at all times”, my roomates . People quarreled over the colour of mugs, for it had to match that of the bucket. This fixation with sanitary was to do with the lack of it. We faced water-shortage on the second day and therefore refrained from throwing spitballs at each other.
To prevent extinction of my wits, i entertained my roomies in a funny tamil accent I had unknowingly acquired. aiyaaaoh! free Kandaswamy ringtones by Vodafone to north-indians had a modest role to play. When I din’t sing I sulked. The kitty-parties had mushroomed at every corner and corner on the three floors. Competing against each other at the top of their voices. Fashion sense was critically reviewed by our in-house journalists. Language was improved through flowery-swearing. And dare you call them page three journalists!
I read out Saki to Cuckoo for he felt increasingly lonely amid a class of non-relatable people. He liked it because he could now initiate a conversation with professors out here. The ones who can never run out of time and sarcasm. For feedback, a recorded ‘big-laugh’ SFX would do the job well.
Classrooms compensated for our rickety hostel beds, but that was realized only after a week. This draws me to an end which happens to be the dawn of a fresh range of experiences. Cuckoo, hopefully, would have matured by then.
Showing posts with label LOL. Show all posts
Showing posts with label LOL. Show all posts
Aug 11, 2009
Jun 22, 2009
tripping on exams
i didn't click a single picture of the two-cities, i trotted in a span of 12 days. because i could see the visuals threatening the independence of my mind. I abstained from the purchase of memorabilia to be carried in the mammoth-sized luggage i was bagging. i instead chose to mutilate the frame and present some factual-made like fiction frescos below:
1. gender equality is best practiced in mumbai(i was the body guard to my 'modestly' good-looking cousin. This when my length of shorts was shorter than his at any given point of time.)
2.babies should never travel by air, because parents are lame at their attempt of psyching them with the "i'll throw you out of the window" threats.
3.you can never lose your way in the locals, because chances are that one out of the hundred heads will be sensible
4.the new entry to juhu beach will leave you at a remarkably dim-lit, thinly occupied place to have some good time.( i assume at this point of time no filth will match your dirty acts at 12 am there)
5.clouds are not making babies, i testified it in the plane(and so it didn't rain in the entire stay)
6."tamil teeliyam"(i cant speak tamil/shutup), is the golden word to be repeated the moment a black opens his zip.(you shouldn't think pervert coz they were dhotis and not jeans)
7.do not buy a power-vodka, no matter how much you feel like boozing,(contact my roommates for further details)
8.kanzivaram sarees clad with bata chappals is the look for the season(hurry limited stocks, order now)
9. pudhe station -bay of bombay( next station was always abhay. in his bland taste of life, he spiced up my entire trip)
10, oh, it reminds me. i have a cure for maggi mishap under the patent name of me and abhay(how to cook your maggi in the absence of a tastemaker)
11.the amount of sweat released in one hour of dancing equals to spending one minute in mumbai. and hence i missed dancing
12. collaba causeway is a must-visit. it boasts of some egypt style restaurant under a hardcore indian name 'bade-miyan' and shops which are too true to be fake. (for instance you will find under colours of benetton-a brightly lit up store standing proudly next to the United colors of Benetton.
13. a rare sight of beautiful people can be grabbed at theobroma's. it's because they are all tourists.
14.back home, i received the best welcome of my life. my pet came running down the stairs and refused to back off for the entire day
15. i am willing to take exams all my life, if they promise such a trip everytime.
1. gender equality is best practiced in mumbai(i was the body guard to my 'modestly' good-looking cousin. This when my length of shorts was shorter than his at any given point of time.)
2.babies should never travel by air, because parents are lame at their attempt of psyching them with the "i'll throw you out of the window" threats.
3.you can never lose your way in the locals, because chances are that one out of the hundred heads will be sensible
4.the new entry to juhu beach will leave you at a remarkably dim-lit, thinly occupied place to have some good time.( i assume at this point of time no filth will match your dirty acts at 12 am there)
5.clouds are not making babies, i testified it in the plane(and so it didn't rain in the entire stay)
6."tamil teeliyam"(i cant speak tamil/shutup), is the golden word to be repeated the moment a black opens his zip.(you shouldn't think pervert coz they were dhotis and not jeans)
7.do not buy a power-vodka, no matter how much you feel like boozing,(contact my roommates for further details)
8.kanzivaram sarees clad with bata chappals is the look for the season(hurry limited stocks, order now)
9. pudhe station -bay of bombay( next station was always abhay. in his bland taste of life, he spiced up my entire trip)
10, oh, it reminds me. i have a cure for maggi mishap under the patent name of me and abhay(how to cook your maggi in the absence of a tastemaker)
11.the amount of sweat released in one hour of dancing equals to spending one minute in mumbai. and hence i missed dancing
12. collaba causeway is a must-visit. it boasts of some egypt style restaurant under a hardcore indian name 'bade-miyan' and shops which are too true to be fake. (for instance you will find under colours of benetton-a brightly lit up store standing proudly next to the United colors of Benetton.
13. a rare sight of beautiful people can be grabbed at theobroma's. it's because they are all tourists.
14.back home, i received the best welcome of my life. my pet came running down the stairs and refused to back off for the entire day
15. i am willing to take exams all my life, if they promise such a trip everytime.
Mar 14, 2009
a night well spent
After flipping thirty pages of a stray magazine, fatigue began to hit her tremendously. She is lying on the magazine in a half-dead state, pretending to ignore the marching hands of the wall-clock.
ten minutes to two, eleven minutes to two, twelve minutes to two.
Sleep eluded her from several days and today was nothing different. She is in no mood to track her eye-lid movement. It was fourteen blinks per minute yesterday. So, she decides to track the obscure shadows instead.
By 2.40, she possibly became familiar with all the neighbourhood car alarms. She saw her head tapping to one. In a sudden twitch, her neck began to hurt badly which coaxed her otherwise stiff body to see the night of the day.
Emergency lamp is turned off.
Like a glaring warden, emergency light of the phone commands her tiny pupils to expand. She had flashed her phone at the window after hearing quaint noises. As she began to concentrate, she felt the window at the extreme corner of the room, being smashed by a pointed object. Perhaps a knife or an equivalent sharp object. It induces copious fear in her now fully-awaken system.
She trembles incessantly as she follows the continual low sounds of the abrasive glass.
It's quarter to four and she decides it's time for some immediate action before the robber makes his way through the glass window. Meanwhile she thinks of peeping throught the window but rules it out as it might alert the robber who would in turn injure her.
She formulates a plan or rather two. She plans to get to the kitchen and collect all the dangerous tools of mass consumption. red chilly powder always yields results. She decided she'll blow the red elixir into the robber's eye through the tiny slit betweent he window and the grill. This plan seemed perfect until she realised she will be all alone executing it and it didn't go quite well with her.
So, she decided to wake her mother in the adjacent room instead. She quickly tip-toed and frantically woke up her devilishly sleeping mum.
"Are you okay?"
"You sure it's not a dream?", asked the groggy-eyed mum.
She voiced her fear in the most aggressive manner and convinced her mother of the robber's misdoing. Together they marched at the battlefield, to the adjacent room. On the way she explained how swift these robbers are screeching the glass pane, in order to break it and enter.
Her mum sheds a drop of sweat, while she is bathing in it. She remains near the kitchen, backing up her carefully chosen resources while her mum walks up to the window.
Mother fixes her eye and tries to follow the sound. Her breath is tight and is released in a cranky haul at the window. She lifts the asian- sky- shop excercise rod and knocks it against the window, producing a loud meowwwwwwwwww.
it's 4.25 and she burries her swollen eyes unto the ground, while the mother walks away into her room grumbling .
ten minutes to two, eleven minutes to two, twelve minutes to two.
Sleep eluded her from several days and today was nothing different. She is in no mood to track her eye-lid movement. It was fourteen blinks per minute yesterday. So, she decides to track the obscure shadows instead.
By 2.40, she possibly became familiar with all the neighbourhood car alarms. She saw her head tapping to one. In a sudden twitch, her neck began to hurt badly which coaxed her otherwise stiff body to see the night of the day.
Emergency lamp is turned off.
Like a glaring warden, emergency light of the phone commands her tiny pupils to expand. She had flashed her phone at the window after hearing quaint noises. As she began to concentrate, she felt the window at the extreme corner of the room, being smashed by a pointed object. Perhaps a knife or an equivalent sharp object. It induces copious fear in her now fully-awaken system.
She trembles incessantly as she follows the continual low sounds of the abrasive glass.
It's quarter to four and she decides it's time for some immediate action before the robber makes his way through the glass window. Meanwhile she thinks of peeping throught the window but rules it out as it might alert the robber who would in turn injure her.
She formulates a plan or rather two. She plans to get to the kitchen and collect all the dangerous tools of mass consumption. red chilly powder always yields results. She decided she'll blow the red elixir into the robber's eye through the tiny slit betweent he window and the grill. This plan seemed perfect until she realised she will be all alone executing it and it didn't go quite well with her.
So, she decided to wake her mother in the adjacent room instead. She quickly tip-toed and frantically woke up her devilishly sleeping mum.
"Are you okay?"
"You sure it's not a dream?", asked the groggy-eyed mum.
She voiced her fear in the most aggressive manner and convinced her mother of the robber's misdoing. Together they marched at the battlefield, to the adjacent room. On the way she explained how swift these robbers are screeching the glass pane, in order to break it and enter.
Her mum sheds a drop of sweat, while she is bathing in it. She remains near the kitchen, backing up her carefully chosen resources while her mum walks up to the window.
Mother fixes her eye and tries to follow the sound. Her breath is tight and is released in a cranky haul at the window. She lifts the asian- sky- shop excercise rod and knocks it against the window, producing a loud meowwwwwwwwww.
it's 4.25 and she burries her swollen eyes unto the ground, while the mother walks away into her room grumbling .
Nov 18, 2008
How sweet!
"These candies appear tempting, i plan to flick coupla them"(a bunch of toffees which would remind you of those 3-year-olds running across the field in the hues of electric blue, pink and yellow)
"well! they're all expired, i believe"
"oh, so why are they are here?( boss, we're at a candy manufacturer's boardroom, what else do you expect?)
"you know the country is facing a strong economic recession and may be the client has something in mind", says the servicing chick with an einstein look on her face.
ha ha ha... (bosses are always known for their amazing sense of humour)
"huhaaaaaf past three", i say it in a musical yawn only to conceal my dumb silence.
"our stuff is great, i hope we sell them this time round", meanwhile i am told, " i expect you to be 'sweet' to the client which means speak as little as you can".
yes boss!
...............................................................
"and here is the mind-numbing, eye-grabbing, scintiallting, oh so riveting(while the client is lost in checking out vivek oberoi, semi-nude in the thought blurb)..........................unimaginably witty creative"
SFX: drum rolls out
"it's nice, it's naughty(no the brand is not the pink nokia phone priyanka chopra is promoting), its cheeky too", replies the client biting her lips(she must have gone in the pool as well!!!)
but.......my only concern is it's not 'sweet'
i grin at the boss innocently(note- i'm still mum)
"Ms.. i beg to interrupt, but the brief was 'funnnnnnnnnn"( trying hard not to concentrate on the remark, the servicing chic just made)
"but you must remember at the end of the day the purpose of our product is to spread sweetness", replies the client
(and crash them into inconsolable diabetes, you fuck-face, i have to speak! in my head of course.)
"'i think our personal favourite is this route"", said in chorus( i wonder if these servicin chicks have been sleeping together or what)
the client seems to ignore that as always
The next creative is presented, "It;s a story of a guy.....and see the title of this story is 'how sweet'', while i grin away to glory
"well now you have no reasons to complaint i presume", making it clear obvious that i am the writer on this.
"hahaaa, this is funny", the client looks at me.
haaaaaaaaaaaaaaahaaaaa- the servicing chics in chorus again
and i am smiling sweetly to the former ofcourse.
(by now the boss has gone into an identity crisis)
"hmmm...,
i think my fellow here would like to sleep over the idea, and get back to you", curtly says the client
"now what should i give you?", shrieks the servicin chick in her usual tone
"may be an expensive bed and pink sheets", winks the other one.
hahaha, " you know what's the scene on this Dubai film, i think.."
"oh come now you;re digressing from the agenda madum", snaps the servicing at the client.
(while i am saved from visualising the client on those pink sheets with oberoi now, i would choose Obama, not that twain have a remotest co-relation here)
"alright then ladies and 'a gentleman', we shall get back to you in the evening", quite evidently the client seems to has given up on morons like us.
meanwhile i checked my watch it was 4.30 already.
"sure, it was nice meeting you today" (servicin, i heard you guys complaining of cranky clients who call you for a job meeting every hour)
as the meeting comes to its finale, i said "ok then, hope you have a good sleep", sweetly.
followed by a ROFL by the client and a mourning back in office.
"well! they're all expired, i believe"
"oh, so why are they are here?( boss, we're at a candy manufacturer's boardroom, what else do you expect?)
"you know the country is facing a strong economic recession and may be the client has something in mind", says the servicing chick with an einstein look on her face.
ha ha ha... (bosses are always known for their amazing sense of humour)
"huhaaaaaf past three", i say it in a musical yawn only to conceal my dumb silence.
"our stuff is great, i hope we sell them this time round", meanwhile i am told, " i expect you to be 'sweet' to the client which means speak as little as you can".
yes boss!
...............................................................
"and here is the mind-numbing, eye-grabbing, scintiallting, oh so riveting(while the client is lost in checking out vivek oberoi, semi-nude in the thought blurb)..........................unimaginably witty creative"
SFX: drum rolls out
"it's nice, it's naughty(no the brand is not the pink nokia phone priyanka chopra is promoting), its cheeky too", replies the client biting her lips(she must have gone in the pool as well!!!)
but.......my only concern is it's not 'sweet'
i grin at the boss innocently(note- i'm still mum)
"Ms.. i beg to interrupt, but the brief was 'funnnnnnnnnn"( trying hard not to concentrate on the remark, the servicing chic just made)
"but you must remember at the end of the day the purpose of our product is to spread sweetness", replies the client
(and crash them into inconsolable diabetes, you fuck-face, i have to speak! in my head of course.)
"'i think our personal favourite is this route"", said in chorus( i wonder if these servicin chicks have been sleeping together or what)
the client seems to ignore that as always
The next creative is presented, "It;s a story of a guy.....and see the title of this story is 'how sweet'', while i grin away to glory
"well now you have no reasons to complaint i presume", making it clear obvious that i am the writer on this.
"hahaaa, this is funny", the client looks at me.
haaaaaaaaaaaaaaahaaaaa- the servicing chics in chorus again
and i am smiling sweetly to the former ofcourse.
(by now the boss has gone into an identity crisis)
"hmmm...,
i think my fellow here would like to sleep over the idea, and get back to you", curtly says the client
"now what should i give you?", shrieks the servicin chick in her usual tone
"may be an expensive bed and pink sheets", winks the other one.
hahaha, " you know what's the scene on this Dubai film, i think.."
"oh come now you;re digressing from the agenda madum", snaps the servicing at the client.
(while i am saved from visualising the client on those pink sheets with oberoi now, i would choose Obama, not that twain have a remotest co-relation here)
"alright then ladies and 'a gentleman', we shall get back to you in the evening", quite evidently the client seems to has given up on morons like us.
meanwhile i checked my watch it was 4.30 already.
"sure, it was nice meeting you today" (servicin, i heard you guys complaining of cranky clients who call you for a job meeting every hour)
as the meeting comes to its finale, i said "ok then, hope you have a good sleep", sweetly.
followed by a ROFL by the client and a mourning back in office.
Oct 8, 2008
loo(K) who's thinking?
lying timid, in the absolute absymal
most comfortably lost
in the salvaging thoughts
of moths and flies
including the one
which savours my blood tonight.
befriending the voluminous stink
of fa(e)ces and the faceless
churning from within.
moving in circles,
not just the flush water
a mindful of filth
mom, please dont see me in this
and say your usual thing
"shit!"
"what have you been upto?"
coz, i have my usual reply
"i've been thinking...."
most comfortably lost
in the salvaging thoughts
of moths and flies
including the one
which savours my blood tonight.
befriending the voluminous stink
of fa(e)ces and the faceless
churning from within.
moving in circles,
not just the flush water
a mindful of filth
mom, please dont see me in this
and say your usual thing
"shit!"
"what have you been upto?"
coz, i have my usual reply
"i've been thinking...."
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