tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-216269232024-03-13T10:27:55.287+05:30Loads of Rhyme and a Dash of Reasongettin' a life, documented.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02361612757909809015noreply@blogger.comBlogger92125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21626923.post-38518903771623293292013-10-01T21:04:00.001+05:302013-10-01T21:04:04.074+05:30We need this election option <div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'>We have come to a stage where any movement from any politician is thought to be a deliberately calculated political move. Notice the slant of the word "political" in the previous sentence. It automatically a search for power and thus profit. <br/>
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Now power by itself isn't such a bad thing. Justice without power is weak but power without justice is violent. And this is exactly what BJP and Congress look like. The former is violent and the latter is weak. <br/>
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But I digress. Suppose Rahul was in fact making a political move by opposing the right for criminals to rule us. In that case, I would say, more power to him. It would have been worse if someone hadn't said anything about it at all. I frankly don't care much for Modi but if he had raised the same point as Rahul, I would have given him his due. Am surprised that we have reached such a state of pessimism that we automatically analyse the motives of others who make points like these but we don't ask questions about the points themselves. Instead of wondering why Rahul is asking this question late, a more appropriate question is, why is the choice for not voting any of the candidates in the election, late in coming? <br/>
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To make matters worse, every time we get a glimpse of Parliament in session, we cringe at the scene of our leaders barking like misbehaving children who want to oppose each other for the sake of opposing. Present mistakes of one side are compared with past mistakes of the other. And that finishing line of cacophony is reached when the session is adjourned.<br/>
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I would like to tell our leaders that we are not paying them to watch their silly drama. What you say to each other, do on your own time. Why we pay our taxes is for you to govern us. And deep inside we know that you cannot govern us when you cannot conduct yourself with a minimal form of decency. For eg, let the other person finish speaking before you howl your views out. You are all senior citizens for gods' sake. Act like it. And don't let me get started on why you senior citizens are still sitting up there. <br/>
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And after all is said and done, we as human beings are ready to forgive you anything if you can clean up your act once and for all.<br/>
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In some ways, being under British oppression was better cause we were united towards the common goal of freedom even though we didn't agree on how to achieve it. Today, it is like we traded our British oppressors for new indian ones. And we have had more than enough.<br/>
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We don't want criminals ruling us. We don't want those who sit quietly and fan the flames of anti-communalism. We don't want those who sell the minerals of our lands for personal profit. We don't want murderers sitting on elected seats. And we don't want you to ask us to vote for you with that shameless smile on your face that hides a rotting soul that won't make amends. <br/>
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I vote for the choice to not vote any of the above candidates. Bring it!</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02361612757909809015noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21626923.post-47059600433233058982010-04-30T15:11:00.000+05:302010-04-30T15:12:13.765+05:30A Fireflies Parody (Mosquitos)You would not believe your eyes<br />If ten million mosquitos<br />Made lunch of me as I fell asleep<br /><br />'Cause they'd fill the open air<br />And leave blood-drops everywhere<br />You'd think me rude<br />But I would just stand and... scratch<br /><br />I'd like to make myself believe<br />That mosquitos drink nectar really<br />It's hard to say that I'd rather stay<br />Awake itching when I would rather be asleep<br />'Cause everything is never as it seems<br /><br />'Cause I'd get a thousand hugs<br />From ten thousand biting bugs<br />As they tried to teach me how to karate<br /><br />A Hammerhand strike above my head<br />A Circling kick beneath my bed<br />My patience is just hanging by a thread<br /><br />I'd like to make myself believe<br />That mosquitos drink nectar slowly<br />It's hard to say that I'd rather stay<br />Awake itching when I would rather be asleep<br />'Cause everything is never as it seems<br />When I (finally) fall asleep<br /><br />Leave my door open just a crack<br />(Please take me away from here)<br />'Cause I feel like such an insomniac<br />(Please get me mosquito coil or amatiri)<br />Why do I tire of counting sheep<br />(Please bring me mosquito spray)<br />When I'm far too tired to fall asleep<br /><br />To ten million mosquitos<br />I'm weird 'cause I hate goodbyes<br />I got misty eyes as they said farewell (sarcastic)<br /><br />But I'll know where several are<br />If my dreams get real bizarre<br />'Cause they come back again to f*** me from afar<br /><br />I'd like to make myself believe<br />That mosquitos drink nectar slowly<br />It's hard to say that I'd rather stay<br />Awake itching when I would rather be asleep<br />'Cause everything is never as it seems<br />When I (finally) fall asleepAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02361612757909809015noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21626923.post-62221987557217411382009-09-23T13:42:00.009+05:302011-01-06T17:28:10.753+05:30A Better Version of You (Rather Than a Bitter One)Its been a while and a lot of unwritten thoughts. Today's will be about the way we handle difficulties in learning a new skill. Lets take stamp-collecting as an example. Its a rather tame one but I have chosen it for a reason :). I go to the stationary store, buy a stamp album, start writing loads of snail mail to my facebook friends in exotic countries and blackmail them to at least send me a blank letter back for the sake of those little square pieces of paper that are probably licked onto the envelopes ;). Then I have to learn the value of each stamp which depends on its rarity, categorization of stamps according to shapes (diamond, triangle, regular, etc), countries, year, blah. And then I learn the fine art of shameless bargaining. "I will give you two triangles for one of your 1980 retros". And the learning continues.<br /><br />This is easy compared to skills you have to build that involves people like Public Speaking, Sales, Leadership, Dating, etc. Why? I am sure you didn't ask me that LOL. The reason being that there is this teeny weeny thing called rejection. You try this, you try that and you look for the things that click, discard the ones that flop. Same as in any skill acquisition but the feedback is instantaneous about whether what you are doing is a success or a failure. And this is one thing I have learned to handle. The only way to get through all the shit is to-get-through-all-the-shit. Because when you get used to people getting bored of your speeches, people not being impressed by your sales talk, people being put off by your social etiquette, thats when you learn and most importantly, that's when you realize that what other people think should never stop you but inspire a tough person like you to get it correct the next time.<br /><br />(thumbs up)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02361612757909809015noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21626923.post-83549508145622372052008-12-20T20:38:00.003+05:302008-12-20T20:53:26.638+05:30saints and sinnersHeard at <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St._Mary's_Basilica,_Bangalore">church</a> the other day...<br /><br />dad, mom, daughter: (praying)<br /><br />son-in-law: There's a picture of thieves posted on the wall of the church.<br /><br />son: I guess people might end up thinking they are saints and praying to them.<br /><br />son-in-law: LOLAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02361612757909809015noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21626923.post-65004732000265873882008-11-21T13:42:00.004+05:302008-11-21T13:54:16.704+05:30gmail theme-it-up<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wkX0hxdjedc/SSZvo0XqN2I/AAAAAAAABDM/1kEPBczNwq0/s1600-h/gmail.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wkX0hxdjedc/SSZvo0XqN2I/AAAAAAAABDM/1kEPBczNwq0/s320/gmail.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271023160927074146" /></a><br /><br /><br />Looks like <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neo_(The_Matrix)">Neo</a> is using <a href="http://www.gmail.com">gmail</a> these days ;-). The google customization craze (beginning with being able to change the themes in <a href="http://www.google.com/ig">iGoogle</a> and <a href="http://www.orkut.com">Orkut</a>[yuk... learn from <a href="http://www.facebook.com">facebook</a>, guys]) has spilt into the popular email as well. Have fun wasting time wisely...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02361612757909809015noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21626923.post-77124439904105678832008-11-04T18:21:00.007+05:302008-11-17T21:04:56.873+05:30mass productionSo dad had gotten one of his teeth "uninstalled" for the price of a... shall we say, a whole new head? And that triggered a spontaneous murmur of appreciation of Heaven from mom:<br /><br />mom: imagine if the price the dentist charged for doing this is so high, how does God afford to make so many human beings, with all their parts perfectly<br /><br />son: well, looking at the population, i am guessing He is cutting costs by mass producing us... maybe there's a factory in china or something<br /><br />dad: hahahaAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02361612757909809015noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21626923.post-62015901229324004472008-11-02T16:42:00.007+05:302008-11-03T16:46:50.246+05:30mama's boySo i was looking at a resume of one of my friend's friend and i was thinking to myself "the guy's got some nice work experience... hmmm... wait a frickin second..." and thats when i reached the hobbies section. And here it is in its full, copy-and-pasted, glory:<br /><br /><blockquote><span style="font-style:italic;">Hobbies: Surfing Internet, playing Cricket, <span style="font-weight:bold;">Helping mother</span>.</span></blockquote><br /><br />okay kid... its not like the rest of us don't give a hand once in a while... and i just can't help wondering: "what about dad?" ;-)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02361612757909809015noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21626923.post-59841735530566705072008-11-01T11:45:00.004+05:302008-11-17T21:05:17.311+05:30digest thisHeard at the dinner table yesterday...<br /><br />dad: research has shown that <a href="http://www.obesitytheanswer.org.uk/Taste.htm">chewing the food thoroughly</a> reduces obesity... blah blah blah<br /><br />son: no wonder buffaloes look like slim beauty queens<br /><br />mom: hahahaAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02361612757909809015noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21626923.post-66866393533045969622008-07-02T18:03:00.004+05:302008-07-02T18:11:05.676+05:30baby in the hoodA purchase of four samosas and one choc drink later...<br /><br />Baby walks tentatively, eyes on the ground. Her mom is holding her hand and smiling proudly. As i approach her, on my way to zeus knows where, the kid looks up to check me out. I smile. She smiles. She trips. "Woops"...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02361612757909809015noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21626923.post-10016056923862157362008-05-24T12:35:00.004+05:302008-05-25T10:06:59.281+05:30just eat itIn a perfect world, plastic bags would rot like banana peels. Seems like utopia's closer than we thought. A teenager from waterloo did just that by <a href="http://news.therecord.com/article/354044">discovering a bunch of plastic munching bacteria.</a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02361612757909809015noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21626923.post-86717624886937186072008-05-23T17:34:00.006+05:302008-05-24T11:42:48.096+05:30wrong againRaise your hands if you don't have a mobile on you. What? You all have two each? Must be for each of your ears then. Multitasking and all that...<br /><br />But what i really want you to raise your hands for is if you are using a lousy mobile phone operator. Since coming to bangalore, i have had the chance to try out several of them.<br /><br />In the beginning, i was young and naive. So i opted for vodafone (then known as hutch). More as if i was dragged into it since a relative of mine was using the service and he had me sign up for the same. The experience was nice. Orange clad pretty people providing good service at the hutch centers. What more could one stare at... i mean, ask for? After the initial honeymoon period, i noticed that the range used to go out whenever i entered places with roofs over my head. I had to acquire ancient kungfu stances so that the range icon on my mobile would show even a dot. Somehow, i thought that this problem was normal and that mobiles where still lagging behind wired phones. Like i said, i was young then.<br /><br />After growing up overnight, i changed the service to bsnl. Now, bsnl is one of the oldest operators around and i thought it would have not have any problem providing coverage since it has had enough time to be everywhere. What i didn't expect was finding out that the local bsnl relationship center was filled with grumpy people with no knowledge of any office manners whatsoever. And to add injury to insult, i got my first expensive phone bill. Yikes!<br /><br />After a few months of this, i sheepishly got back to hutch and bore along with it during its transition into vodafone (vada phone anyone?). And that's when it happened. I was looking to get myself broadband and airtel came knocking at my door as soon as they laid a line near my place. Great service and great technology. Hmmm... this honeymoon didn't show any signs of ending, i thought to myself after trying it for around two months. So i ditched vodafone for the second time. Well, technically i threw away hutch first and then vodafone later but don't let me get you snagged in the details. Quickly, got myself an airtel number and so far, the ride has been great. I miss making my weird kungfu stances though. Or at least my friends do...<br /><br /><object width="425" height="355"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/lbMGSt5zxMw&hl=en"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/lbMGSt5zxMw&hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02361612757909809015noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21626923.post-3236940555185809302008-05-08T19:44:00.004+05:302008-05-10T19:07:29.902+05:30NEXT<span style="font-style:italic;">Runaway bride.<br />She was scared to say goodbye.<br />So she changed her number,<br />and conveniently "forgot" to inform her lover.<br /><br />And i said "NEXT!!!"</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02361612757909809015noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21626923.post-91093689964793344262008-05-04T16:57:00.002+05:302008-05-04T17:06:49.115+05:30The End of the RainbowI realized something. I knew it before but i REALLY get it now after (and currently) going through with it. And that is: when you are trying to learn/do/get something, things or people stand in the way. Now, we can stand here and argue forever why it happens so. One reason might be that people like you as you are and don't want you to change. Or that obstacles, like mountains, are there just because they are there. But in the end, they are just there to make you sure whether you want something real bad or not. If you don't, you will fall by the wayside. But if you want it real bad, why give a damn about the things that stand in the way of you and the end of the rainbow?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02361612757909809015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21626923.post-78846177400514396042008-04-12T08:06:00.004+05:302008-04-12T08:18:35.108+05:30The Shuffled Music Interview<a href="http://withnowheretogo.blogspot.com/">Lemonade</a> had this nice tag up. You put your mp3 player on random shuffle mode, ask a question and let the player answer by what song it plays next. And since there's nothing more lazier than getting your mp3 player to give your interview, i am game:<br /><br />"If someone says 'Is this okay?', you say?"<br />Escape - Enrique Iglesias<br />Run boy, run!!! Run from the stupid questions.<br /><br />"What would best describe your personality?"<br />Skater Boy - Avril Lavigne<br />Couldn't have said it better.<br /><br />"What do you like in a guy/girl?"<br />Easier to Run - Linkin Park<br />What???<br /><br />"How do you feel today?"<br />Numb - Linkin Park<br />(Snaps awake from mind numbing experience)<br /><br />"What is your life's purpose?"<br />A Different Beat - Boyzone<br />I came. I saw. I went into the toilet.<br /><br />"What is your motto?"<br />I Never Loved You Anyways - The Corrs<br />Must be just lust then.<br /><br />"What do your friends think of you?"<br />Aicha - Outlandish<br />My friends think that am more outlandish than aicha-ish though<br /><br />"What do you think of your parents?"<br />Desert Rose - Sting<br />Something to do with the fact that these folks raised me up in the friggin desert called Sharjah?<br /><br />"What do you think about very often?"<br />Only When I Sleep - The Corrs<br />Hah! Thats right people. I only think when i sleep which is a good thing since i sleep 70% of the day<br /><br />"What is 2+2?"<br />Dance Inside - The All-American Rejects<br />Man, maths makes me go K.R.A.Z.Z.Y... The only thing i aced while i graduated 12th grade too.<br /><br />"What do you think of your best friend?"<br />Complicated - Avril Lavigne<br />Yeah, the fact that i left old tom back in Dubai. We need to do some serious thinking on solving this distance thingy, buddy<br /><br />"What do you think of the person you like?"<br />Bring Me to Life - Evanesence<br />Yeah baby, yeah!<br /><br />"What is your life story?"<br />It Ends Tonight - The All-American Rejects<br />It ends tonight when i go to sleep.<br /><br />"What do you want to be when you grow up?"<br />Sexy, Naughty, Bitchy - Tata Young<br />Er... I think my mp3 player confused me with some of the girls I am dating now ;)<br /><br />"What do you think when you see the person you like?"<br />From the Inside - Linkin Park<br />Something happens inside... love is in the air... hormones are raging in the.... ahem!<br /><br />"What do your parents think of you?"<br />Paint It Black - Vanessa Carlton edition<br />You're looking at the black sheep of the family, my friend.<br /><br />"What will you dance to at your wedding?"<br />Tears in heaven - Eric Clapton<br />Hmmm. A sign from heaven telling me not to get married?<br /><br />"What will they play at your funeral?"<br />All Rise - Blue<br />You heard it people. All Rise cause Dead Rejoy's passing through.<br /><br />"What is your hobby/interest?"<br />Fearless - Bryan Adams<br />I dunno but my friends seem to think that i have too strong a stomach for walking right through speeding traffic and the even more dangerous recklessness of striding up to a beautiful girl and getting it on.<br /><br />"What is your biggest secret?"<br />Every Other Time - LFO<br />Too many secrets every other time<br /><br />"What do you think of your friends?"<br />In the End Remix - Linkin Park<br />That's where i will be dudes/duddettes to make up for all the times when i was supposed to be there in the beginnings and the middles :P<br /><br />"What should you post this as?"<br />Crash and Burn - Savage Garden<br />Burn iPod! Crash and Burn in hell!!! Heh.<br /><br />Questions over already? I was just starting to have fun. Oh crap. (Switches of the music and goes to do some thinking aka sleeping)<br />PS: if you like this tag, run with it peopleAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02361612757909809015noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21626923.post-1498221485180797252008-04-08T22:51:00.004+05:302008-04-08T23:24:21.133+05:30Of Men and Their MiceWhile walking to the bus stop today, humming to <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wDSr51N8VZo">meri kahani</a> playing on my ipod-lookalike, i came across a guy peeing next to the wall. Since four years of exposure to this event have made me feel numb to anything remotely related to waste management on the streets, it would have resulted in yours truly walking by with out a second glance except that there was a kid perched on his shoulders and looking down at his father's act of manhood. Since i was trying to maintain my distance from this odd scene, i imagined the conversation that would have gone on between peeing dad and peeping son:<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">son: What are you doing, dad?<br />dad: the same thing you do early in the morning, son.<br />s: aren't u supposed to do it in the toilet?<br />d: but son, this is the great indian freedom similar to our right to vote, free speech and to hide our tax rupees from the collector.<br />s: but wouldn't the wall start to smell?<br />d: see son, this is also a symbolic gesture. We want to advertise to society that we are really men and we can do it standing up.<br />s: (takes out mobile phone, activates video cam and starts recording the "water gate" scandal)<br />d: what u doing son?<br />s: i just want to advertise this to the world on youtube.com, dad<br />d: (dad disappears faster than <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rajnikanth">rajnikanth</a> could flick the cigarette to his mouth)</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02361612757909809015noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21626923.post-30501679366323785662008-03-19T22:12:00.015+05:302008-03-19T22:41:52.175+05:30Debugging and The Art of Saving Your Ass<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_wkX0hxdjedc/R-FGyKkI-5I/AAAAAAAAA_I/yNPm5jiWBfY/s1600-h/evolution-of-programmer.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_wkX0hxdjedc/R-FGyKkI-5I/AAAAAAAAA_I/yNPm5jiWBfY/s320/evolution-of-programmer.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179498874096122770" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://pointlesseverything.com/blog/2008/03/the-adventures-of-dabhishek/">This</a> reminded me of a similar experience while in college. I had written a program for one of my advanced programming practical exam and it worked but i couldn't figure out for the life of me why it always printed "Segmentation fault" (SF) at the end. When the professor came to check whether the program was working (and hence assign the marks), i calmly ran the program. The program was executing and spitting out various results and the professor was nodding his head all along (like a seasoned rap star) until the SF came out. He stopped his head-nodding and slowly lifted his finger (thankfully not his middle one) and asked me "Rejoy, why don't you explain to me how you got this error". So i looked at him, gave my best devilish grin and said "Actually, i typed in: <br /><br />printf("Segmentation fault\n");<br /><br />at the end of the program." (Meaning that i deliberately made the program print SF). The guy actually roared with laughter and clapped me on the shoulder. I think i will save this answer for one of my job interviews ;-)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02361612757909809015noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21626923.post-16145271125691063022008-03-17T00:59:00.004+05:302008-03-17T01:19:45.345+05:30Twinkle twinkle little star<span style="font-style:italic;">Him: ... and you see that star over there?<br />Her: Oh! It looks beautiful.<br />Him: Thats the pole star. Its a lot like you. You have given a new direction to my life.... (utter gibberish follows followed by a repeat of the geeky but romantic <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TunfILJGD9c">"star connecting" routine</a> from the movie "A Beautiful Mind")<br />Her: How romantic darling! Thank you for this wonderful evening gazing at <a href="http://www.google.com/sky/">Google Sky</a>. tc... byee<br />Him: laterz</span><br /><br />he logs off... she logs off...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02361612757909809015noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21626923.post-72352324310221587942008-03-07T23:02:00.007+05:302008-03-07T23:35:30.095+05:30Happy International Women's Day<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_wkX0hxdjedc/R9GDSqkI-3I/AAAAAAAAA-4/vAx9j6_WJ-E/s1600-h/8march_landysh.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_wkX0hxdjedc/R9GDSqkI-3I/AAAAAAAAA-4/vAx9j6_WJ-E/s200/8march_landysh.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175061803512167282" /></a><br />Its just a matter of time when you get to hear what people make of you and your ways. Its like chinese whispers but somehow these "whispers" reach you intact. So a few days back, I learn that some of my colleagues had some funny views on me talking to girls. Yeah, I am crazy you know since women come from another galaxy and its not normal for a guy (read Indian guy) to be able to strike up a conversation with women. Here's what I heard:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">1. Guys green with jealousy:</span> Of course, this was not explicitly said but it was obvious in the way they gave each other those significant looks when I walked by.<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">2. One guy comes up to me and throws me the "you only talk with girls" line:</span> And I slowly look him up and down and ask myself "Is he trying to tell me that he has boobies too?"<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">3. My girl friends (not girlfriends) giving me the "hey Rejoy, go talk to them" dialogue when a young thing in skirt passes by:</span> Hey! I don't have the time to chase every friggin model who sashays down the catwalk. Besides, I go by quality unlike the quantity of boyfriends in your mobile contact list :-P<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">4. That I was gay:</span> Ha! And this from the guys who spend all their life hanging out only with other guys. Enough said.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02361612757909809015noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21626923.post-61711214892392946652007-12-30T20:02:00.001+05:302008-03-17T14:26:16.390+05:30my decemberWell... i don't think i will start this post for apologizing for not updating my stuff over here. Heck! It would be like being sorry for not having eaten strawberry ice-cream when i was swimming in thick-drippin-chocolate-ice-cream all this while (PS: strawberry's not my flavor of the "any month of the year"). But then my gentle readers want to know what's up in my life(or at least i will pretend that you do want to know. Think positive and all, you know?). So here's a small list of what i can remember so far:<br /><br />1. Grooving with my colleagues: There comes a time when you realize that you are spending half your life in the cubicle. When you are filled with that over-flowing knowledge, you do one of two things: (a) you gripe, complain and make a total mess of your face with that god-damned frown. (b) Or you make the most of it. As in, you drink gallons of office water, tea, etc. You get to know everyone in the office (such that even security personnel breaks into a warm smile when they see you). Extra points if you can walk up to the opposite/preferred sex and strike a conversation. Extra, extra points if you can stay cool and make them laugh. You work so hard that you earn two years of experience with every one you spend in your firm. Hmmm... am getting carried away here and i better stop before you guys start seeing a workaholic giving a million excuses for not having a life ;).<br /><br />2. Christmas with family: Nothing beats having Dad and Mom come over and spend christmas with you. And its extra fun when the Mom in question is a whiz in the kitchen. She even made those superb <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chaats">chaat</a> in between cooking up a stormy meat buffet. And not to mention the great choir singing at the local church celebrations. I am sure the lead singing lady had broken a few hearts along the way ;)<br /><br />3. Free therapy courtesy of little sis: When you have to act like a man and keep all those stuff inside you, having a little sis who understands is one big life-saver. So i poured all my sob stories to this lady who is training to be a psychologist. Hey girl! You might be able to put all this stuff in your resume anyways. Am your number one cush-tomer, right? Loads of money comin up when i get some in my pocket, k? And watching "Om Shanti Om" wasn't bad either. I didn't expect you to enjoy it more than me. (sniff sniff). Where the Fish is my hanky when i need it. I better stop before i get overly nostalgic.<br /><br />4. Falling in love (or somethin close to it): Somethin like this had already drained me out while i was in college. Now getting up every day is a chore cause i see this awful question on the wall every time i open my eyes: "When will i see her again?"<br /><br />With that i bade a bitter-sweet farewell to 2007. Wishing you guys a wacky 2008. Letsssss. PPPPParty!!!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02361612757909809015noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21626923.post-74786785930441222942007-11-27T20:42:00.000+05:302007-11-27T20:50:26.705+05:30A Dreamy Slashfest<a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_wkX0hxdjedc/R0wz8eymzjI/AAAAAAAAA-M/s2PjtkvgtO8/s1600-h/WOLVERINE.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_wkX0hxdjedc/R0wz8eymzjI/AAAAAAAAA-M/s2PjtkvgtO8/s200/WOLVERINE.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137538389073382962" /></a><br /><br />Last night i had this weird dream. I saw myself, in the first-person-shooter-game-style, walking around and all of a sudden i pop these adamantum claws from my hands a la <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wolverine_%28comics%29">wolverine</a>. I gaze at it, startled at first, but i grin when i see some bad-guy-type of fella running towards me and i tell him "Time to get slashed into itsy bitsy ribbons, bub". Well... i wished i had said something like that anyways, the way heros are supposed to do and all. Anyways, after the carnage scene is over, i hang around looking for more stuff to try my new claws on but am suddenely confronted by my clone smoking one of those cigars. Contrary to cinematic expectations, he's not here to challenge me to a me vs me fight, psychological or otherwise. He just stands there, in the third person, and smokes the damn cigar while looking at me with one of those "Bet you don't have the guts to smoke despite all that tough guy posturing", and i wake up all of a sudden, sweaty faced and panting hard.<br /><br />And then this still sleep-fuzzed brain gets into analysis overdrive. Number one. Explaining away the claws is easy. Almost everybody wants to be in logan's heavy canadian branded, probably made in china, boots so thats a piece of cake. Number Two. But since i am one of them non-smokers it looks like, even in its house-keeping and filing-away process, my brain couldn't make my dream of being my fav x-man even virtually true along with the fact that i am supposed to be blowing smoke if that has to happen. So it, divides me into two to keep me happy while at the same time getting me to wake up cause you know, the memory spring cleaning is over for the day (or night) dude and you better rise and shine, sonny. It was only later that i remembered that since wolverine has this high regenerative ability that it didn't matter whether he smoked or not since his lungs would repair itself into that of a new born baby's faster than you can say "adamantum balls". So, if you managed to put him into one of those huge hospital scanners, which seem to be used for almost every other diagnosis whether in the movies or in real life, and you made him smoke his cigars while zooming into his lungs area, you would see his lungs turning black and then his mutation kicking in and turning it bright healthy red (yellow? white? somebody with the necessary medical knowledge, help me here).<br /><br />So, in the parallel universe where our mutants are having fun and getting a piece of each other, you can imagine the disclaimer on the cigarette ads: "Smoking is a major cause of... blah blah... except if you are born packaged with the quick healing chromosome. So to all you unlucky ones, gnya gnya :P"<br /><br />With that split resolved, i go back to sleep and get ready to enjoy the rest of the dream, blazing cigars, a stronger than steel, six bladed beast, smelling blood in the cold night sky and running towards his prey composed of gun totting army men from the Weapon X program. AWOOOO!!!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02361612757909809015noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21626923.post-28425676522748337732007-11-15T15:35:00.000+05:302007-11-18T19:24:30.706+05:30The Look and The Way<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_wkX0hxdjedc/RzwgQOymziI/AAAAAAAAA-E/t39HjMQuvcY/s1600-h/scarlett.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_wkX0hxdjedc/RzwgQOymziI/AAAAAAAAA-E/t39HjMQuvcY/s200/scarlett.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133013138515873314" /></a><br /><br />When you go places, you notice this one thing. If you are a girl (and you don't need to be overly hot for this to happen in India), you get a lot of stares when you are walking the streets. If you are a guy, you catch other people (or yourself) doing the same. I do it too but i have perfected the art of subtle observation to perfection and would like a lot more guys to go about it the same way. When most guys give "the look" its more like as if they were panting with some sort of animal lust and wear a gaze so intense to put even super-man, with his X-ray vision, to shame. So here's the solution. When a girl passes by, look coolly at her (eyes NOT popping out) and then look away after a few seconds. If you really need a second "helping", go for it but keep it to few seconds at a time and not as if you will die there staring at her forever. And if she sees you looking, give a gentle smile (showing 32 salivating dracula like dripping fangs doesn't count). That way, she knows you are admiring her and not about to do some unmentionables at that exact moment. Try it out... she might actually smile back.<br /><br />By the way, this sort of stuff used to piss me off until i realized that i should be grateful that at least men were not staring at me <a href="http://rejoyy.blogspot.com/2007/02/of-desires-and-tendencies.html">THAT</a> way :)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02361612757909809015noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21626923.post-91498095137915418282007-11-11T11:39:00.000+05:302007-11-13T12:55:52.545+05:30City City, Bang Bang And Boom Boom<a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_wkX0hxdjedc/RzadBth4IKI/AAAAAAAAA98/cpKApiBpov4/s1600-h/fireworks.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_wkX0hxdjedc/RzadBth4IKI/AAAAAAAAA98/cpKApiBpov4/s200/fireworks.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131461478162374818" /></a><br /><br />Diwali's here and the competition is up. The race is on to see who's the best city in terms of most decibels produced with (deep) respect to crackers exploding, drunkeness (minds imploding) and general nuisance. To prepare for this situation, i had readied my mind to acquire that state of perpetual numbness to irritating, asynchronous sounds. To be frank, i really had not much of a choice in the matter (refering to the Noise Lessons here). My gentle, regular readers have already read my post on the many advantages of living literally under construction so i will not bore you with the same details but will only link it <a href="http://rejoyy.blogspot.com/2007/11/under-construction.html">here</a>. And <a href="http://rejoyy.blogspot.com/2007/11/under-construction.html">here</a> again in order to give you double the chance in case you decide to close your eyes and click randomly on the screen and let fate decide on whether you should read the dusty, web-covered post. But i digress, for the nth time, so lets get back to more digressing later on. Ahem! Yes, yes... regarding my sound therapy, here's the list:<br /><br />- Dogs barking in the neighborhood at random. And damned Pomenarians barking 3 and a 1/2 times the normal output of the yellowish-brown color fits all standard sized street dog.<br />- People yelling (AAAY!) to talk to someone regardless of whether both of them are standing a quarter of a kilometer apart or are ear to ear.<br />- Homo sapiens yelling louder when they are using their cellphones. <br />- Guys trying to be macho and reving up their bikes for five minutes. Wroom wroom. Extra points to global warming here.<br />- Traffic and the ready "Horn Ok Please" attitude.<br />- Near my home, a regular BOOM goes off in the background every fifteen minutes or so. Don't know what made me decide it was a canon sounding the time. Furthur research, which was simply passing the area courtesy of public transport, yielded the fact that the place was some kind of stone mine with loads of dynamite necessary to make smaller morsels for the lorries to transport.<br />- And the list would be incomplete without the in-your-ear music, broadcasted non-stop whether its your neighbor's tv, his/her recently acquired car or ancient sound system, marriage function, funeral or simply, for the heck of it, radio volume on max.<br /><br />Advantages of the treatment:<br /><br />- Could stand the noise generated on double diwali (both south-indian and north-indian).<br />- When someone on the road lights a cracker, didn't even need to mentally brace for the explosion.<br />- All related music and lights suddenely acquired background (and hence unimportant, taken for granted) status.<br />- Of course, my trusty headphones did share in the burden too (both therapy and reality wise). Its all about teamwork, you know :)<br /><br />So here's wishing you a Happy Diwali, my friend!<br /><br />PS: Inspite of all the irritations, the huge sky fireworks were awesome!!!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02361612757909809015noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21626923.post-59129055726602800422007-11-03T12:24:00.000+05:302007-11-03T12:48:12.159+05:30Under Construction<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_wkX0hxdjedc/RywbsumrsMI/AAAAAAAAA90/fyeRebE0UPE/s1600-h/under%2520construction.bmp"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_wkX0hxdjedc/RywbsumrsMI/AAAAAAAAA90/fyeRebE0UPE/s200/under%2520construction.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128504530906624194" /></a><br /><br />Currently i am staying in this rented apartment right in the middle of a small village in bangalore. In the morning, it looks all breezy and peaceful. But, come nighttime and thats when the creeps come crawling out and infesting the seedy local bar and shooting out unmentionables around the area and emptying their stomachs in public for extra effect. Its been two years here and am itching to move on. Add to that the fact that my landlord suddenly decides to add a few more floors to his building in which i am meek tenant, and i am close to selling my kidney to get me some money to fund my driving away into the sunset dream. Here are a few of the side effects of living in/near an under-construction sign post:<br /><br />1. You pick up a book to de-stress or get some learning done and the laborer decides to do some hammering done, at exactly the same moment. So its like, bang bang bang and am trying hard to not pick a chainsaw and run screaming on to the roof from where the culprit is bugging me.<br /><br />2. A few days later, i acquire the knack of relegating the background noise outta the way of my concentration and i get comfy with the routine. When evening sets and the workers go home, it suddenly dawns on me that i can't get any reading done in the silence. Oh crap... now have to re-learn doing stuff in the quiet.<br /><br />3. The landlord hires this painter who thinks that he's Karnataka's answer to sonu nigam. The guy's clearly in love with his voice so he starts belting out recent kannada hits to the nuisance of good old me. After waiting for a while and praying that he gets his tongue twisted into a knot or somethin, i decided to do something 'bout it and so i step out and tell the guy in hindi: "Ghana acha hai magar hum idhar padtha hai... tho volume please kum karo..." (The singin is nice but am studying here so please lower the volume buddy). The guy says "okay okay" and after a few seconds of peaceful quiet, he starts singing louder. Hmmm... he must have thought that i liked his singing so much that i asked him to increase the volume. Oh well! Atleast one of us is happy, i thought to myself and muttered a few magic words to mute out the extra noise.<br /><br />4. Mud slides falling on you when you are all showered, dressed and stepping out to go for work. (Cough cough!). Hey dude... am hyper-allergic to dust, man!<br /><br />Some one get me outta here!!!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02361612757909809015noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21626923.post-40208768876172977772007-10-23T19:56:00.000+05:302007-10-23T20:26:41.778+05:30Gone To The Dogs... Singular In This Case And What A Singular Case This Is!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_wkX0hxdjedc/Rx4FCK5Ir1I/AAAAAAAAA9U/oMu0YEyqwRg/s1600-h/dog_chewing_on_blue_shoe.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_wkX0hxdjedc/Rx4FCK5Ir1I/AAAAAAAAA9U/oMu0YEyqwRg/s200/dog_chewing_on_blue_shoe.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124538960836079442" /></a><br /><br />So i get up one Sunday morning. The birds are chirping, the buffalos are mooing and all is right with the world (cue for a random soothing beethoven concerto). I take a warm shower while singing the latest and greatest from himesh buddy's hits (and hence driving away all single and multiple celled organisms in the radius of half a kilometer. Forunately yours truly is not inhabiting a very prosperous community and so there's no danger of breaking wine glasses here). I hum the same tune in low key while dressing up so as not to drive away my parents who are waiting for me in the next room so that we could go to church together. And then it happens... i step out to get my shoes and notice that (horror of horrors...) that there's only my left shoe is there in front of me. I quickly put on my sherlock holmes hat and start searching around the vicinity for the missing object and if possible the guilty culprit. Nopes... no sign of former-latter and i am about to explode into some choice unreadables... and thats when dad walks up to me and hands me the previously-lost-but-now-found shoe minus some bits of leather round the leg input part. What have we here? I zoom to the part where the bits of the shoe are missing and it looks like some random stray dog had adopted the thing to be its play toy of the day (or night, in this case). Out of all the shoes spread like tantalizing mines between the gate and the door, the creature had the sense of mind to swoop on the most expensive one on which i had shelled out more than 1.5k. And it lasted more than 2 years too and... then i burst out laughing when i realize that the brand of the shoe was "red tape" of all things. Yeah right! If anything had to go to the dogs, then that would be one of the tops in the list. With that out of the way, i rub my hands and wiggle my toes while thinking up what my next pair of shoes should be (no laces and plain black will do, i guess). With a smirk on my face, i put on a pair of "back ups" (you know, the ones one wears when one feels like giving one's feet a suicide mission). Ah well... what's life without a few pains in the you-know-where. Provides good blog fodder though (as my good-old-blogger friends already know and what our bad-new-newbies will find out very soon ;).Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02361612757909809015noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21626923.post-81269466310700966292007-10-21T11:43:00.000+05:302007-10-21T11:47:50.330+05:30The Mallu From The Middle EastThe prerequisite to understanding this post is to read hem's "<a href="http://kerfuffled.blogspot.com/2007/10/paean-to-city-of-my-life.html">paean to the city of sharjah</a>"... man! i wish i had more friends with whom i could get nostalgic over that city... here's some more comparisons w.r.t. my... er our sharjah:<br /><br />First steps: check!<br /><br />Fell in love in: check!<br />It was a one-way love: uncheck!<br /><br />Malayali-run cafe's: check! and how come u r skinny while i grew to weigh the equivalent of a teenage elephant?<br /><br />Exile in school: CHECK! damn desert ;)<br /><br />Fire, quakes and explosions: nopes... must be just u then, hems<br /><br />Alcohol: nopes again... i had to wait to get to bangalore to get the relevant experience<br /><br />Mobile street: that reminds me of the street across the roundabout facing mega mall...<br /><br />Censorship: grrrr!<br /><br />Academic learning: yup... big check! and dad needed a big cheque too :)<br /><br />Bachelors and underpaid laborers: sick and thats why we ran out of living near rolla square, i guess<br /><br />Safety: this was an excellent feature... i loved it!<br /><br />Platonic hugs: i was too huge to try it out there... hmmm... was this why mom and dad wanted me to remain horizonatally challenged?<br /><br />Piercings: nopes<br /><br />First job: does an internship count?<br /><br />Accidents: one and only one and it just scratched the paint job on my car... the opposing party had to let us go since they couldnt find a dent on theirs<br /><br />Vows: check! hell, i broke a lot of vows...<br /><br />Languages: learnt hindi everytime i hanged around those urdu cab drivers... wish i had paid more attention to those arabic classes though<br /><br />Tea and AC: hehe... i totally get this one<br /><br />Photographs: egad! i dont ever wanna let anyone see my childhood photos... i look SOOO geeky<br /><br />Running away: when i left, i never looked back but i keep returning to you... after all, it was you who made me the mallu-from-the-middle-east...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02361612757909809015noreply@blogger.com12