Empty pockets never held anyone back. Only empty heads and empty hearts can do that.

There's a coup going on in this blog. A regime change is highly probable.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

So they think they can dance...

and why not?
This is one nation where people break into a dance faster than the blink of an eye...Yessir and madam, I'm talking about Philippines...and to prove my point I present the average ordinary Filipino in his/her moment of glory...bombs away!!!!

#1 Traffic Enforcers : Slick moves!!! Never mind the traffic or the cameras zoomed in on him...this guy can't help dancing...From the city of Cebu, Philippines...Dancing Traffic Enforcer!!!

#2 Nurse : What are the nurses upto when not attending patients?? Simple...they get themselves videoed dancing...Check them grooving...All the way from Lyceum of the Philippines Univ. Batangas...The Dancing Nurses

#3 Engineering students : "What's the big deal??" u might ask...well, its far better than the ones i have witnessed (@ PESU, Zhibpur)...Anyway check 'em out...from mechanical engineering mathematics society, Univ. of San Jose, Philippines...the dancing engineeeers!!

#4 Workers : Daily wage workers are not the ones to be left behind...behold!! workers of Philippines swaying  to some stupid lady crooning over a rusty PA system....the SAFE WORKERS of Philippines society presents....the Dancing Workers

#5 Army: So Philippines Army doesn't train soldiers only in mortal combat but also upgrade their dancing repertoire...please be patient initially...kindly wait for the soldiers to finish their customary military drill...so put your hands together for ...the Dancing Army

#6 Air Hostess : Yeah baby!! won't say a word on this...I'll shut up and let them bounce...keep your eyes peeled for...the Dancing Flight Attendents of Cebu Pacific Airlines

#7 SWAT : Special Weapons and Tactics...but over here dancing is one of the many tactics these Law enforcers master...or atleast make an effort to do so...for your viewership...the Dancing SWAT (SWAT, Santa Rosa City, Laguna, Philippines)

#8  Doctors : Doctors are in a class of their own...these doctors at the PSG-PSDE annual convention showed that they are as skillful at ball-room dancing as with scalpel...presenting the Dancing Gynaecologists

#9 Prisoners : These guys are amazing!!! Led by the choreographers of the gr8 Michael Jackson...these life inmates from a maximum security prison , the Cebu Provincial Detention and Rehabilitation Center (CPDRC) , pay a grand tribute to the king of pop...

#10 Tax Collectors: Whatttt?? After eons of tax collectors being compared to grim reapers, the last thing I expect is to see them dance...that's precisely what's happening...all the way from Cebu Tax collection office, the Dancing Tax Reapers

So what's keeping u guyz from Grooving??
Get with It....

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

She cried, how and why...

She took out rouge and liner from Hidesign purse and went on to refurbish her tear-stained face.
Tears…probably the deadliest weapon a woman can unleash on a guy who cares about her…each drop which rolled down her cheeks were hitting me hard … I felt as if my heart was being pierced by acupuncture needles…one by one...from the inferior to the superior vena cava…Yup, she's my lifeline…has been so for quite some time now. So, I was with her in the kitchen of my one bhk apartment, preparing a modest dinner for the two of us. I thought doing this together was a great way to bond better, gotta admit that "91/2 weeks" kitchen scene had a lot to do with this plan of mine. She helped me by fetching vegetables from the fridge, stood by my side as my knife made precise dices and slices.
    She was no better at cooking than I'm at dancing. The intent of showcasing my culinary skills was inherent in this exercise. I got off to a good start, deboning the fish, all in one go.
The showman inside me felt I could do one better…so to display my multi-tasking abilities, I went on to tell her some 'incidents' from my college days while chopping up the items for fish curry, vegetable korma and green salad. I won't be unfair to her by saying my stories were good; she had to really put some effort in appearing eager to hear my corny tales. She stood there leaning against the fridge trying to make sense of the confusion otherwise known to me as my college life. It's said that a good listener usually comes up with a good question, she was no exception…in the pause I made to recover breathe, she fired a quick one, "Do you still love your ex?"
Like a shot from a well-concealed sniper, this question came from nowhere…(I did, however, mention my ex in the stupid stories I was serving her for appetizers) The cucumber, about to be decapitated slipped away from the edge of the blade I was wielding, proof enough that I was shaken up by this poser. She moved to a strategic position next to me and whispered over my shoulder, "I'm waiting...tell me"
Bluffing my way out of this was immediately ruled out by the one in front of the left lung while the one between my ears told me to skip the question altogether. "She will know sooner or later, it's better to settle this once and for all", some other chum (with a halo over his head) advised.
With supreme effort I managed to utter these very words, "To tell you that I don't would be lying through the teeth so I would rather say that I'm trying to un-love her" meanwhile my hands were busy chopping. Probably a few micro seconds later I realised the implication of these seemingly ostentatious words...THIS IS NOT SOMETHING ONE SHOULD SAY TO SOMEONE SPECIAL AS IT DENTS THAT "SPECIAL" IN A SPECIAL ONE. My body stiffened waiting for a reprisal.

My ears picked up a sniff, I slowly turned my gaze to her...she had just pulled a hankie out of her purse...her eyes were swelling with tears...

"Take evasive action !!", alarms went off in my head. Tears!! Oh no! tears are not on menu for this dinner date!!

"Hey, hey...I was only suggesting that she doesn't matter to me anymore"... "She's as good as gone"... "I really care about you, that's why I said what I said and please, right now, you are my only object of affection"... "Ahhh, that witch is gonna haunt me even in my afterlife"........

  I released the trigger to observe the effect of my covering fire....But, it was too late...my defence had been breached already...I dropped the knife in despair....

"I'm so sorry...I didn't mean to hurt you in any way..."
It absolutely wreaks me to see her eyes moist...Her tears start in drops, soon turn into a drizzle and a li'l later, depending on the magnitude of her emotional burden, torrential tears may come along with thunderous wails. Sometimes it bothers me so much that I end up questioning my moronic existence; For making her cry, somebody line me up in front of a firing squad, please!

Thankfully she managed to cork her outpour and said something that caught me napping.
"It's perfectly cool, it's understandable, had the same experience with one of my ex, much worse actually", she said in a wobbly tone.

Imaginary arms started scratching my head, "I reminded you of who?...your ex?"

"Then....what explains those tears?"

"Them...I can't stand them...."
I looked at the direction indicated to find the culprit... finely chopped onions on my chopping board.   

Considering the plight of my abso-f**king-lutely baffled intellect, I made it a point to purchase the book displayed below. 

Note: This has got nothing to do with me... fiction as pure as cow shit...the entire episode takes place within a span of 10 minutes.Just so you know...


Friday, July 30, 2010

charting my way by streetlights...

The 6th of April, 2010 is definitely going to leave some impression in my mind. That evening i did something stupid yet got satisfaction out of doing it ( Kindly keep the temptation of thinking something entirely out of place, at bay , for the time being :). In one of my quite frequent mood-swings, i challenged myself to get off the bus someplace near the Victoria Memorial and to walk all the way home navigating through lesser known streets and lanes.

A requisite of this challenge implied me not asking anybody directions; only taking cue from the landmarks i encountered and the use of billoards or glo-signs to get my bearings. Cellphone use was obviously out of question.This was agreed upon subconsciously to make sure that i have only the sense of direction to help me get back to my crib. My conscience was entrusted with the responsibility of officiating this weird deed. "Weird" cuz i don't think u would come across many who would waste time trying to get lost willingly.
So, I plugged the ipod in my ears and got off the bus. As my feet hit the tarmac, the eardrums began vibrating with coldplay's "cemeteries of london", sending a wave of vitality through my body. The fatigue (reminiscent of the hectic time i had back in the college) vanished and all i desired was to get moving. Now, to keep walking is one thing but to get somewhere I had to proceed with purpose...That means basically to pick one of the four directions...So the place where I stood, south (my home's in south kolkata) was to my right. But there were so many streets to choose from.

The thing about neighbourhoods in Kolkata is that the lanes are serpentine and have plenty of dead ends...worse, if you loose track of the places you passed, it's probable that you may take a wrong turn cause at night time the buildings hopelessly similar. My strategy was to follow the streetlights...to avoid lanes with less or dimly-lit streetlamps and stick to properly illuminated path with considerable traffic...As a result the streetlights became my waypoints; I was wary enough to align the streetlights such that I keep heading south following them.

Watching out for these waypoints closely, I stumbled upon a small discovery of sorts...No two of the streetlights I came across were alike...the streetlight posts were like the totem poles of the locality they were in...the profile of people living there could be read from these posts...
In the posh colonies, the streetlight poles were mostly devoid of any grass/moss at the base, no hand painted message or posters glued to the body...just glow-signs/kiosks for anything from pizzas to dance classes...cars and bikes parked near them...some elderly people and mostly buddy-gangs sharing experiences from the day that went by, taking up position beneath those posts soaking in the soft light from the sodium vapor lamp lighting up a small patch of the tiled pavement...

Distinctly different were the lamp posts in shoddy, less privileged neighbourhoods...
Most of the posts had hawkers sprawling around it...be it tea stalls, tit-bits or even ayurvedic medicine stalls...only the posts near open air lavatories were spared...the posts were covered with coloured posters/ flyers for more practical purpose say tutions, income tax consultants and of course, consultants for sexual problems...urchins alongwith kids from housing societies playing unmindful of the autos and cars incessantly horns honking jostling to weave through the dingy lane further constricted by the overflowing street side canal. Countless accounts of love affairs were scratched on these posts by lovers who wished for a public acknowledgement.

 I kept moving by following the streetlights lined towards the south till I got my ass over to Jadavpur Thana having walked a good many kilometers on a way one wouldn't come across while using public transport. I convinced myself that the terms of the challenge had been fulfilled and took an auto to get back to the coziness of my bed. Lest my mom began doubting my sanity, I didn't give the actual reason why I got home late that evening.

In case, the whole concept of trying to get lost in city (of course, premeditated) or the purpose of writing a blog on it appears beyond reason, then I say give it a try and let me know.

Thursday, July 29, 2010

Lafangey Darindey and likes....

Be it "Creativity" or "Artistic Necessity"...the keen and the curious will always find strange titles(movies and serials/daily soaps*) being hurled at them ...Did you hear "Dabangg", "Teri Bin laden", "Lafangey parindey", "Milenge milenge" by chance?? or you may have come across the biggies; "Once upon a time in Mumbai" , "Agley Janam Mohe Bitiya Hi Kijo" yada yada yada...
KISS formula is now a passe....Keeping It Short n Sweet is no longer the concern.
The new norm is that titles should either have rarefied, iterated words or half a dozen word stringed together. Got this in your formula then rest assured, attention is sure to follow and attention spells money...so to all you perverts having the hots for a complicated name...Cheers!
As for me, i still prefer "Ziddi" & "Zor" for a Sunny Deol movie...Certainly works much better than "Kal kissne Dekha" for a Jaccky Bhagnani (Pardon me if the spelling's wrong).

And the trend if far from over because even fresher, infinitely more challenging and intellectually taxing titles are waiting to be dug up from the graves of modern lexicon.....subtitles bearing the meaning or interpretation of movie, soap etc. will soon have to be provided for the "not so learned' audience....The whole frenzy will get so intricate that the multiplex guys will be compelled to hand out flyers justifying the film-makers motive behind going for such tiltles...as for TV, pilot promos bearing the context and explanation for the titles will be composed and aired prior to their premiere...
India's on the verge of vocabulary overdose and as always pre-empting the future, I've come up with some really hep names meant for books like "1001 Baby names"...should people get the idea of going for a long and complicated (i.e. names which leak IQ in between letters)
for your eyes only...
Sample "Ms.GkG.Saxena" or "Mr.MdL Balhara" for a change...attention guaranteed!


"What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet."........

Shut thy f**king mouth, you imbecile!
U game for name??

* Daily "Soaps"...now where did that come from??

"The name soap opera stems from the original dramatic serials broadcast on radio that had soap manufacturers such as Procter & Gamble, Colgate-Palmolive, and Lever Brothers as sponsors and producers.These early radio serials were broadcast in weekday daytime slots when mostly housewives would be available to listen; thus the shows were aimed at and consumed by a predominantly female audience and hence the name Daily Soaps was coined for serials."
-- unceremoniously ripped off from the Wikipedia...

Friday, July 16, 2010

Congratulations! It doesn't work!

My trusted ''sometimes shaken but never stirred'' PC is just 3 months away from its 3rd ''birthday'' (though assembly-day or installation-day should have been more apt). Despite all the strenuous rigors I put my machine through, it hardly ever bothered me with any technical issue, except something as routine as a hard disk formatting on a few occasions. This year (here comes the disheartening bit) my PC outlives its warranty period. So, come November, any and every repair or replacement of its hardware is gonna dent my wallet (my dad's to be precise).

This does have an impact on your mental peace. I feel pangs of morbid realisation that one day I'll have to stare at some defunct part of the PC which no longer enjoys the umbrella of warranty. At times like this, sinister thoughts cross your mind...such as what if the entire machine breaks down in a manner in which the whole machine can be replaced i.e. before the warranty expires ? I'll get a new PC in replacement...that too without dropping even a penny...cool,nah?
Of course, ''a far fetched idea this is...'' as master yoda would have put it. However, this did happen to some extent...my PC, on the 26th May, without  any prior warning, broke down and would not boot despite my best efforts. With a hope in my heart (to find a fatal yet replaceable problem in the PC) and prayer on my lips, I began diagonsis and soon found out that in all probability, its the RAM (ZION 1 GB DDR2) that had gone kaput.
Distraught at not finding any other problem, I resigned with the job of having that RAM replaced at the Zion service center near Orient theatre somewhere on the Chittaranjan Avenue.
To look for the service centre in the heart of Kolkata's Chandni Chowk area is a daunting task. Its basically a miniature manhattan minus the skyscapers and that most of the buildings are rickety, some so dilapidated that they would soon make it to the breaking news...
Disasters waiting to happen, thats what they are. This building I was seeking for had a liquor shop on the ground floor, tailoring and laundary facility on the second and ZION help desk on the third. Frankly speaking had it not been for a ''Blue Dart'' guy(traffic cop, local paan wala, porters and others were no help at all),I would have taken hours to reach the office. Now this ''help desk'' was a door leading to an office. The door had a neatly cut window with a panel placed on the sil horizontally. On that panel was placed a register and pen, a poster which read ''no admission to non-staff'' had been fixed on the door. Inside the office from what I could gather, there were six or seven tables with motherboards, monitors, tea cups, paper littered all over them.
 The people inside the office had the air of government babus as they took momentary breaks from their gupshup to attend to the clients and customers. I went ahead and entered my name in the register...one of the fields of the register asked about the problem...I felt like writing ''RAM ram satya hai'' but did not.
A distant voice from inside the office almost instantly asked me to get in the queue. Ah, the queue! Only seven harrowed customers in there...waiting for their turn...eyes on the wall clock and ears standing out trying to make out if they were being summoned by the ''babus''. I joined the queue...and soon it became evident that it would take a while to get anywhere near that ''help desk''.
Hanging out like that with nothing happening, made my mind go into a sub-conscious surveillance mode (Interestingly, it has been scientifically ascertained that the human conscious mind gathers info at 16 bits/sec whereas the non-conscious mind works at around 11 million bits/sec...kindly refer to the movie Karthik calling Karthik to discover more about the powers vested with the sub-conscious mind) ...I could distinctly pick up what others were mumbling, my eyes were seeking targets of opportunity i.e. Bills, warranty papers, the parts which were to be repaired or replaced. Preliminary prying revealed 5 out of those seven cases were that of malfunctioning RAM. The other two had motherboard problems. I kept on assimilating ambient info.
Very soon the first guy in the line left the counter...he walked off spouting an assortment of colorful  language... I asked the gent in front about the issue...he wasn't sure himself so he asked someone standing in front of him and the question got relayed to the lady now standing at the window, being serviced. Answer was relayed back in the same fashion...they found his RAM fully functional...but our "behaved" guy won't believe them, he was hell-bent on having it replaced (probably it was the stress seeping into him realising that  some other parts of his PC might as well be damaged and it led to his erratic insober behaviour...to come this far...find this building in the urban jungle...stand in a queue braving the hot and humid corridor leading to helpdesk and ultimately  to walk off empty hand is certainly depressing...Gotta give that to him). Meanwhile, the babus(read service engineers) inside were having a good laugh over his anguish. As the minutes hand on the clock ticked on, impatience kept growing...and those intermittent bursts of laughter originating from somewhere inside the office were getting really irksome. Soon the lady being served at the ''help desk'' was relieved and she had a big grin...her face was glowing with smugness as she flashed her newly replaced RAM in front of us...However, she was very quick to realise that it wasn't the RAM which had us all gravitating towards her, that something in her left hand...a brand new ''Zebronic'' audio/PC headset worth nothing less than a 100 bucks. ''oh! This??? They are giving away small gifts for RAM replacement cases like mine...''.

 She left the place teeming with people now reeling from heightened desperation to get their peripherals replaced by any means. The next two hopefuls were denied within the first few minutes of preliminary inspection. The parts they  brought this far worked okay on being tested by the technicians inside. Both of them made a quiet exit. Next up to try his luck was a twenty something fellow who was visiting this center for the third time (his claims for a replacement were dismissed on the previous occasion), and he was confident that this time his motherboard would surely prove flawed. This unassuming, bespectacled, lanky lad tensed as a would-be father outside a maternity ward, was eagerly expecting the report...soon the technician turned up. These were his exact words, ''yeh toh apko pasand nahi karti, par maike aate he kaam karne lagi !''... A feeling of pain and dismay flushed the face of the guy as if he had been kicked in his groin,''What?? U can't be serious!'', and the argument ensued but his plight fell on wax clogged ears of the technicians. I felt pity for that guy as he went away after his hope of getting a new motherboard for his aging one was dashed.

The line moved on...3 more failures and a single successful replacement later, my turn came. The passed on my RAM to the technician...he had a suspicious look on his face,'' You sure this thing malfunctions??''. ''I would not have taken the pain of coming all the way over here, otherwise.''
The eye contact lasted for a while...we sized each other up...the technician turned away with a dry grin on his face,'' I'll be back!''
So this ''Schwarzenegger'' left the help disk in a manner which suggested he was pissed. Now normally this implies the job at hand suffers miserably, but to my surprise it did not. The RAM passed the examination with flying colors. It proved itself to be faulty enough to deserve a replacement. That technician had a heartburn uttering, '' Congratulations! It doesn't work!!''...'' We'll replace it free of cost as it is covered by our guarantee and you'll get a complimentary headset for having availed our services.'' Not often does one feel so thankful about something not working properly. I joined the elite list of customers who could afford to breathe easy even when the guarantee period  is at its fag end even if only for a RAM.

Sunday, June 20, 2010

At last I get to feel what it's like to know that the blogs one has posted are being read by others...This is a word of appreciation which goes out to Abhishek, Aritra who chose to comment on the posts they read. Thank you guys, it means a lot to me...

@Abhishek: the third part will come out  soon...

Sunday, May 23, 2010

And so it rained... Part two

The father-daughter duo raced each other to the garage. Srikant opened the door and did went around the car to check out the tyre pressure. Ira got inside and positioned herself behind the steering. She turned on the car audio, '' Where's my cd?'' she hollered while looking all over the dashboard.
''Must be in the glove box, check it out will you.''
''Found it!''
''Alright, I'm done. Get yourself to the navigator's seat and put on your seat belt'' and he motioned Ira to move. Going out on drives was a walk on eggs for Srikant...after that overspeeding lorry had rammed into his wife's car and his idyllic life, he couldn't afford to relax...not even a minute for the last one year.
The shining black safari rolled out of the garage and mingled with the traffic heading to Howrah.
''Appa, i'm feeling much better now that we out of that room...see, even my forehead is normal'' and she stuck out her head for her dad to check.
''Not now Ira! I'm driving and yes, your doctor uncle may not be correct always. Maybe you should listen to me once in a while''.
Ira, miffed by his reply simply cranked up the stereo volume. Clinton Cerejo's husky voice filled the interiors of the 4x4 with ''hey ya'' and Ira join him in a duet impromptu. Feeling comfortable with the windows rolled up, Srikant too, lent his voice to this jugalbandhi with the effect that synchronized ''hey ya'' s could be heard even outside. They stopped at a signal and Srikant adjusted the rear view mirror, setting it properly by looking in the mirror...a white ambassador with two occupants caught his attention. He took out his cell and dialed Aquil's number.
''Hey Aquil, I think I'm being followed...there is this white ambassador which has been trailing me ever since I left home and.....'' he was cut short by Aquil.
''Hold on Srikant! Just gimme the license no...''
Srikant took a hard look at the mirror, it took him some effort to figure out the inverted letters and numbers, he didn't want to alarm the people in that ambassador so he suppressed the urge to look back directly, ''WB-1...B-5..2...3...6''
'' Relax Sri ! Those are my men...they'll be your shadows, just ignore them!''
''God! They nearly spooked me! Is that your idea of babysitting me?? Did you bug my place as well? Hey! Call them off, will ya...I'm not threatened by anyone'', Srikant got agitated yet he tried his best to keep his voice down so as to not bother Ira.
''Let me be the judge of that. Your security is my responsibility so those men stay put...understand? I'm hanging up now! Call me back when you have something better to do than to bug me'', Aquil let out a sober laugh and hung up.
''That bastard! How did I come to take his offer?'' he thought as he shifted the gear from neutral to the first ... the green light just came on.

To be continued

And so it rained... Part one

The curtains ruffled incessantly caressed by the wind which was picking up over the afternoon. Cyclone 'Laila' was heading towards the coast of Orissa and West Bengal. It was overcast condition over Kolkata as light was slowly and prematurely fading out. Dark clouds were rolling in from the south and flocks of birds could be seen flying in formations all over the city making their way home.
'' Appa, how do the birds know that a storm's coming?'', Mr.Vasudevan's 9 year old daughter inquired in a soft tone. She was ill, ''seasonal flu'' as the doctor put it. ''Appa'' was busy going through the accounts of a textile export company. This particular company has been stashing black money for a long time now and had it not been for the economic vigilance department, the company would still be operational below the radar. Mr.Vasudevan, a ''freelance'' Chartered Accountant was pressed into service by the Vigilance department to look into the money laundering operations. A case was being prepared to nail down the GM of this company and Srikant...Mr. Srikant Vasudevan's report was going to be the difference between a successful prosecution and an easy acquittal. The officer-in-charge for this case was desparate to get himself a CA who could look beyond the obvious i.e. the fake entries in the ledger and journals seiged by his sleuths... it was the motive and the means linked with the illicit money transfers that he was after. Aquil Hassan, OC, working on this case for the last 3 years, could smell 'hawala' in all of this but he had nothing substantial on the company to implicate the GM. So, Aquil had Srikant Vasudevan go through the evidence to connect the missing links, and this man was the very best at that.
''Appa, look! Lightning!! I saw it strike that building over there! Will that building fall ?'' Ira, unmindful of her posture, was precariously perched on the window sill.
Srikant looked up once then dived back to work, '' Dunno about that building but you will fall over unless you get down right now, lady!''...he wasn't very concerned whether Ira complied or not, Nobody got hurt falling off a ground floor window only 3 feet over a lawn covered with carefully mowed soft, luscious grass, he reasoned while looking for the calculator he misplaced somewhere under the piles of registers and files. While shuffling files on the work desk in an attempt to tidy up the place, he picked up his diary to find a medical prescription underneath...it was for Ira, medicines were scribbled on it were meant for tropical flu treatment, dosage, food and health supplements, general precau.....his eyes zeroed in on the lower left corner of the prescription...the pathetic handwriting notwithstanding, he could make out a date written there...''23.05.2000''...Then it glowed on him...Ira's Birthday! its 23rd today..how did I forget that? This case has left me brain dead...and why didn't Ira mention it even once? At times like this, Srikant wished that Sujata, his wife, were there to set things right...she brought order to his hectic life. Having laid down his pen, he placed his hands behind his neck trying to massage the pressure points just the way Sujata did before he lost her to a road accident. Srikant, ever since turned a workaholic ( the other option was to be an alcoholic but with Ira around it never crossed his mind) in order to drown his grief in work.
''All is not lost! It's only 4:30 in the evening, I can still make up for this blunder'', he murmured while locking up the drawer and placing weights over loose paper strewn all over the workdesk.
He called out,'' Say what? We are going out!''...
Ira looked over her shoulders and ever so softly asked,'' Really? But I'm ill and Doctor uncle told me to take rest. And its about to rain, the birds stay in their homes, shouldn't we too?''
''Well, we are human and humans have cars,we can go out whenever we want so get up and get dressed. You want me to help you?''
''I'm a grown-up, dad...No, thank you''
The phone rang and Srikant recieved it promptly...
''Its Aquil this side. How's my crack investigator faring??''
''Usually skeletons tumble out of the cupboards, but this shit has an entire graveyard in it! Their money transfers would embarrass even the Western Union !''
''Hey Srikant... I gotta tell you this...This is just a hunch but I believe somebody from my office leaked out the information that you are a part of this investigation...Considering the men and their stakes involved in this case which are obviously very high, they might go to any length to upset things. I have a surveillance team watching over your house. Don't worry we got you covered...just stay sharp, Okay??''
''Listen Aquil Mian, I've a more dangerous situation at hand...I forgot Ira's birthday and I need to make amends, so I'm hanging up...Bye! Call me back when you have something better to do than to scare me...'', he put down the receiver.
'' Ira! Are we good to go??''
'' Yes but where are we going?''
'' All in good time, sugar''

To be continued...

Thursday, May 20, 2010

Enough of the velvet glove, now bring in the iron fist.

What's the price of a Jawan's life?
Not much...It comes cheap...one of the very few things left untouched by inflation....a few lakhs of rupees and a mere mention as one of the numerous jawans killed or injured on the news channels, often confined to the ticker alone (in case the casualties have not occurred in bulk then their sacrifice is played down in favor of other ''breaking'' news). Perhaps a word of condolence to the family and rarely somebody owning up to the blunders that have led to their deaths. Tackling the Maoist Menace is a risky business and the government as well as the police top brass have made cannon fodder out of SPOs, Paramilitary personnels and Policemen. These brave men are considered expendable hence sent into the killing grounds ill-equipped, with negligible intel, guided by shoddy tactics and no backup/cover what so ever. This anti-Maoist operation has been *ucked up so bad that Mr.Kishanji and Co. rival Rambo, killing state forces with clinical precision. Supposedly mine- proof vehicles are being blown up by IEDs, yet the authorities insist on sending in troops with a token mine-proof vehicle to give the Jawan a sense of false security. Let me point out some glaring callousness of the think-tanks heading '' operation green hunt''. I understand that I'm not the appropriate person to have a say in this matter but the lapses are very basic in nature and as a military history enthusiast, the point I am trying to make do hold water plus this blog happens to be mine so I can say what I want to without mincing words...
* Government policy : In the insurgency hit J&k, when militants kill soldiers and civilians,Government sends in the army to deal with them...mind you in Kashmir militants operate in small groups of 3 or 5. The Government doesn't have a negotiation policy with the militants. Whereas in places like Dantewada, hundreds of Maoists en masse butcher the security personnels but still home ministry is reluctant to send in the cavalry. Why, even the issue of air-support during combing operation is marred by protocols and a misplaced sense of political righteousness. What differentiates a militant from a Maoist? Why does government even want to have talks with Maoist? Is it simply because home-bred terrorist deserve a second chance? Since when did killing mercilessly became an excuse to reach out to masses airing concerns of poverty and under-development? Are we going to find criminals like Kishanji in parliament in the future if the Maoist strike a deal with the government in the days to come? After decades of violence,leaders of IRA were given political pardon and leverage to enter the political mainstream of the Great Britain. Is something similar going to happen for the Maoists? Someone rightly pointed out that Rajapaksha quashed LTTE in Sri Lanka in spite of heavy odds then what's keeping the state from taking down the Mao Menace?? When does the government decide its time to go all guns blazing?? Is it after some more Dantewada s that the Home Ministry will get over the bullshit theory of offering the olive branch along with killer punch? No wonder Maoist are now dictating terms to Mr.Chidambaram...We need men of Sardar Patel's caliber who can take the bull by the horns. The policy needs a revision and subsequent modification .
* Tactics : Maoists are using the time tested Apache guerrilla strategy.
The idea is to organize massive strikes on small patrol parties with such brutality that it catches the public attention and furthers confusion mixed fear in the minds of the security forces. Look at their modus operandi...On receiving solid intel from the villagers regarding the path the convoys will take during routine missions, they have sleepers in the village relaying information to the pockets of Maoist resistance spread across the 5 states. The advance party does a recce and ascertains the intel. They pass on the info to the commanders who order the bomb experts to lay down explosives. Understanding that standard anti-personnel and anti-vehicle mines will be useless against the Mine proof trucks, they use IEDs or Improvised Explosive Device which are usually artillery shells with wired detonating mechanism...obviously an artillery shell packs more punch than a land mine and comes cheaper as well (often these are unexploded shells recovered by scrap dealers who handle military wastes). Thus, IEDs defeat the mine proof armor of the vehicles. The Maoist well organized use bird calls to relay directions as they encircle and ambush the convoy all at once outflanking the Jawans who have no cover. Imagine a platoon of jawans surrounded by some 500 naxals in the jungle, trying to get cover while reeling from a massive IED explosion. Its an overkill situation. In guerrilla warfare, that too in jungle, its the no. that counts more than weaponry or shooting skills. The offensive against the naxals are so ill-coordinated that they can afford the time to regroup, rearm and replenish their ranks. Plus the unimaginative top brass ensures that the forces are always two steps behind the naxals.
The Maoists are now evolving their tactics...they are cutting off communication in and around their stronghold...blowing up railway tracks, telephone lines, power lines and even going after the power installations like the thermal Power plants in order to isolate these places and secure their fortifications. What next?? We can expect them going the way of the LTTE and the Chechen rebels i.e. to go after soft targets...schools, hospitals plus organize suicide squads...The only thing stopping them from doing so is the ideology factor that seems to guide them some what. But, if cornered and under the leadership of radical elements, the ideology will soon wane making way for an all out offensive against state. What will the government do then? Keep pondering over whether it was a ''law and order'' issue or a war against a sovereign state?? Only the time will tell...
*Strategy : This is how the para-military and state police machinery functions...you attack a small stretch of naxal occupied area with full force, force the Maoist to retreat and then set up outposts to act as a base of further action. The plan sounds good and effective but...Without secure supplies, high security perimeters, regular troop rotation and quick further action to grab the initiative of the outpost establishment renders this plan toothless. Add to it the fact that the terrain is jungle where its possible to about move about undetected by the outpost and the sentries. The naxal mingle with the locals to cloak their movements and strike at an unwary security unit. While the forces could hardly spring traps, the naxals pull off one massacre after another. How do the naxals to escape the heat? Simple! They keep crisscrossing into the adjoining states thus making the mockery of the jurisdiction of different states where the police is left in a lurch trying to figure out whose jurisdiction is it to go after the get-aways. And please, sharing information of deploying fancy elements like ''greyhounds'', GPS TRACKERS, Mine resistant vehicles, automatic weapons may add to the vanity of the high ranking officers and catch the imagination of the public but it hardly has any impact on the operational effectiveness of the combat forces. The troops haven't even got personal communication radios and to talk of high tech gadgetry is such blasphemy.
*Night combat tactics: The combing operations are halted at dusk. The night combat option has not been used yet for reasons best known to government. The naxals do not have the capability to negotiate attacks by night. Using Night Vision devices, sniper units can take out the top Maoist commanders thus leave the rag tag groups without leadership + motivation and that might force them to give up arms. Why not embed electronic chips in the rifles of the forces? The naxals are known to salvage arms and ammo after attacks, so they can then be traced revealing their hide outs. Instead of trying to outgun the Maoist, simply outwit them.
*Local intelligence : This is indispensable. You cannot venture out into naxal heartlands without solid intel. Instead of depending on half baked report provided by IB and CID its best to arrange for double agents and plant your own informers among the sympathizers. You have to pay to gather info. Publicly announcing awards on the heads of the targets ain't gonna work because through well connected source in the administration, the Maoist will come to know about the informer and then make them pay dearly. The IB should directly payoff naxal comrades to divulge information. This shouldn't be much of a problem considering there are always some Indians who have the tendency to defect from their side as evident in the Madhuri Gupta case.
* Air Support : PC doesn't want to use air power (i.e. Armed forces on Indian nationals). Fair enough! But at least issue a directive regarding proper use of air support. Don't bring in those choppers only to ferry the dead and the wounded. Have those choppers conduct patrol over sensitive areas and let them escort the convoys and the patrol parties which pass through dangerous zones. Timely patrol will check Maoists from planting bombs at will.
* Seal the porous borders: Arms are being supplied to the naxal by arms rackets operating near the international borders of India and Nepal, from north east and substantial amount being manufactured locally. The supplies to naxals must dry up to exert pressure on them. The effort should be more on boxing in the perps than spearheading into their territories. The noose should be tightened gradually waiting for them to make mistakes.
* Tag and gag those mother*ucking pro-naxal sympathizers : Kindly book those bastards who make their living selling the plight of the naxals to the public. An ideology which doesn't mind bloodshed shouldn't be allowed to spread into schools and colleges poisoning young minds. We have already witnessed student outrage and violence during the Naxal era...hundreds of lives lost, thousands of careers destroyed. Yet, these morons think that by rooting for the Maoist they can become the favored child of revolution...even if their designs are not that great still they are milking this issue to get footage. The disturbing thing is that the buddhi-jeevis are the ones justifying Maoist mayhem whether in open or in proxy. They should be made to hear what the widows, parents and children of the fallen jawans have to say. Maybe the rationals they give on TV can pacify the mourners.
The Maoist/naxals may not be wrong in opposing the suppressive policies of government on the downtrodden outcasts of society but that doesn't give you the right to dismantle the governance all together and take over sovereign parts of this nation by killing innocents as well as the custodians of law and order in this country. The Maoist movement may have been a good cause gone bad but its high time to see an end to it. Enough said!

Monday, May 17, 2010

Behold.....The Justice League Of Electrical Engineering

The order of JLEE ...SKM, GB, ANS, DR, ASG, MSG, AR, DSu, AKM and JP...To keep their identities a secret, Super-zeroes like KM, AS, SP, BRB did not furnish their photographs

" Who needs villains if you have them, Zeroes, watching your six..."

Sunday, May 16, 2010

Trees get executed without trial...

Clearly, Abhishek Bachchan's ''pre-paid ki post-paid'' (Idea's save paper,save tree initiative) ads failed to strike a chord with the Indian legal eagles. Even to chargesheet ''caught in the act'' criminals like Kasab a.k.a the ''Butcher of Bombay'', Ujjwal Nikam, a prominent criminal lawyer, had to rely on paper (not much of a choice, is it?) despite all the incriminating evidence he had against the accused in electronic form at his disposal...He could have very well gone a step ahead and presented an e-charge sheet thereby making a greater impression on the Indian vox populi than celebrating his umpteenth triumph, this time over this felon (whose crimes could have been proven in court even by a school kid) by waving a spiral bound dossier with a pic of Kasab and a A4 size cut-out of gallows on the front cover...Apparently the prosecution submitted over 11000 pages of chargesheet (thats almost 2 and a half trees devoured ). Now ain't that Ridiculous? The trees that were destined to serve this cause (of providing the paper needed)  didn't have ''chipko movement'' leaders like Chandi Bhatt, Nanda Devi rooting for them. If 11000 pages were meant for just one terrorist, imagine the no. of forests that need to chopped down to provide paper for the innumerous terrorists based in Pakistan to be brought to justice.You might as well shoot them than capture if the cost is this high...
Alright...Lets say we swallow this bitter pill in the name of national security and justice, but what about that pesky money spinning bastard, Lalit Modi...that weasel, to counter the charges levied against him (22 to be precise) had his platoon of lawyers come up with 15000 pages of reply and counterstatements!!! That's an average of 680 pages per charge!! This effort itself should get you a clean chit...what say Mr.Modi,huh?? Your tactical reply claimed the lives of 3 and a half mute green ones... So much to bolster that extra large ego of yours. Another disturbing aspect of this stunt...papers concerning legal matters (unlike newspapers, office paperwork etc.) are almost never shredded or recycled, these pages are destined to rot in files and cabinets for decades to come...Show some sensitivity, guys!! Spare a thought for the verdure...and if you think that the sheer volume of paperwork you present, would testify your competence, then please, seek life elsewhere!!

Saturday, May 15, 2010

I wasn't there at the farewell...

Yup, I gave the farewell a miss...maybe I was missed there or maybe my absence didn't matter...Just cudn't bring myself to accept that some third year juniors, a couple of professors, a box of almost dehydrated biryani and a cup of vanilla ice cream can tell me to take a hike...to leave the university I loathed so much...to tell me that the stipulated period of my stay in this sanctuary has now expired...that I can no longer enjoy the sights and sounds of PESU,ZHIBPUR...heck, even the drudgery and stress of the days spent braving the DEPARTMENT, have vanished and inexplicably, I can now sense the huge void left in my psyche. You know what they say, "In the shadows of gloom, you learn to appreciate the sunshine of joy"...The first few days spent in the hostel now appear so surreal...back then, to wade through 4 years seemed herculean but now I wish the years went by at a slower pace.
Well, these feelings must have been corroborated by millions of students graduating each year, and I surely won't claim anything different...still, it's human to believe that your personal misery surpasses those of the others around you. Skipping the farewell was partly intentional as I couldn't muster enough grit to face my brothers and friends, look them in the eyes, give'em a hug and then say that I'll forever be there for them, stay in touch and so on...That's too hefty a commitment to make...I don't need this *ucking farewell as an excuse to tell my pals that I'll remember them and that they are special...As far as I am concerned, that much goes without saying......
So where was I, having skipped the farewell??
This friday evening, climate was cool with pleasant breeze blowing across the sun baked streets of kolkata...Not sure what I wanted to do, I got off the bus at Rabindra Sadan and then continued on foot...I was overwhelmed by the memories of the fun we had in our hostels before petty issues like political allurements fucked up our utopia...I kept walking aimlessly just making sure that i was heading south...groups of spirited college-goers passed by me...I couldn't help but feel pity for myself...Wish I could trade places with them. In those dimly lit streets with bright kiosks illuminating small patches, I saw life come a full circle... I was clueless, disoriented 4 years back and still am, having experienced only a fleeting moment of  belonging and purpose in between...I walked all the way from Sadan to Jadavpur thana...took a bus from there for Baghajatin and somehow pulled my calf muscle while getting off the bus...Off-hand walks over great distances can tax your body severely. As a bed-ridden alumni/ex-student of the batch of 2006 , I wish everyone Godspeed...

Another Tehelka expose!! And it’s Muthalik yet again!!


Shamelessness knows no bounds…And Pramod bhai is a living example…............................................

"Within 24 hours of being exposed on the Headlines Today by a joint HT-Tehelka Sting Op, Mr. Muthalik was again caught on tape doing his monkey business but this time in West Bengal…And the person who caught Pramod bhai with his hands in the cookie jar…presenting the one and only PYTPTY…PTI news correspondent cum part-time Tehelka reporter... "Goooooogol" <Applause! Applause!!...the studio audience went berserk>…please give him a big hand!!!"

Gogol: Thank You! It's because of the love I receive from you all that compels me to go about eavesdrop on others, bug their telephone wires and carry out such acts of privacy infringement. (BTW, who threw that big cutout of "Congress ka haath" at me…the presenter was talking about claps…dumbo!!)…Without further delay, let me present to you, an excerpt from the telephonic conversation which took place yesterday at 11:11 pm IST.

But First, a li'l insight into the parties involved…

Pramod Muthalik is the self styled chief of the Rashtriya Hindu Sena, the parent organization of the Sri Ram Sene.

He is the epitome of the sad degeneration of human kind and the proof of how religion begets criminals worldwide. ( To save space, Pramod Muthalik has been designated the call sign PMu...pronounced Pee-Muu)

Debashish Sarkar is the self styled professor of electrical engineering dept. (PESU, Zhibpur).

He is the epitome of the radical degeneration of human kind and the proof of how blackboards beget "talk less, write more, no explanation" professors worldwide. ( To save space, Debashish Sarkar has been designated the call sign DSu...pronounced Dee-Suu)


DSu: Hello…Eita ki 2441139?? Ami ki Bela Bose r songe kotha bolte pari?? (i.e. "Is this 2441139?? Can I speak with Bela Bose??)

PMu: Nahi…Yeh 24 hour 'rent a riot' ka telephone sewa hai…kucch dino mein toll free sewa bhi chalu ho jayega. Par ye Bela Bose kaun hai?? Kya yeh madira paan karti hai, pub mein??…agar haan toh iski khair nahi!! Aur tere bhi!!

DSu: Arrey! Na na…Ami…Hame toh aabhi aabhi iska no. mila…Mera relative ne mujhe baat karne ko kaha…Beiyer Jono…I mean shaadi ke liye.

PMu: Jo bhi ho…

DSu: ei Ki!! Aapko to TV pe de raha hai…Lagta hai kisne apka MMS shoot kar liye hai… so careless!! Par koi Ladki toh nahi dikhei de rahi hai…Ei Pushp Sharma ta ke??...OOoooooo... mone hocche "maa ka ladla bigad gaya!"

PMu: NAhiii!!Abbey Murkh!... Mera sting Operation ho gaya hai… Client se paisa demand kar raha tha..Riot ke liye!

DSu: eita ki notun service?? Rent-a-riot?? Hamko bhi kuch kaam hai…aap karoge??

PMu: Pehle batao…tum kaun ho?? No. to Kolkata ka lagta hai…

DSu: I am a senior professor at PESU, Zhibpur…and a damn good one…

PMu: Aaiin?? Naam toh nahi suna…Pvt. College hai kya? Uff…bolo mere se kya kaam hai?

DSu: Mujhe VC banna hai…

PMu: toh bano na…main kahan rok raha hun?

DSu: Actually, it is not that simple…Let me explain…Hum Famous nahi hai na…isliye problem hai…

Bacchalog bolta hai ki ami, ami DSu, porate pari na…Sudhu na ki Board mein notes likh ke chala jata hai…

PMu: Aap aisa keu karte ho?? Lecture do na…explain karo..

DSu: waise Pora sona hoy na!! You know, Hum jab chotta tha, i mean, when I used to be small…I used to write "I'll do my homework every day" 100 times on the blackboard…at first I did not understand why the teacher made me write so…Pore jante parlam ki…Blackboard e likhle bhalo porasona hoy…isleye my English so strong!!! So to make chatro der Electrical Machine stronger I write notes on the Blackboard and make them copy in their note books + I do not disturb them by explaining the Topic…It benefits me as well…Ami gota notes ta na dekhe likhte parbo…phasor diagram toh sketching er moto namiye di…

PMu: Kyun dimag ka dahi kar raha hai?? Bol kya karna hai…haath par todne ka 10 K, Murder ka 100 k, Riot 1000 k…riots kai flavours main milenge... communal +40% additional cost, moral policing +10%, protests +15%, demonstration +20% + 10 k for every hour…guests of attraction bhi available hai ...Don Ravi pujari + 30 k, Attavar + 15 k, Myself +50 K, Mamata and brigade ka double charges ho jayega....

Aabhi off-season hai isliye 20% rebate…+ chance to win…scratch card milega…exciting prizes!!

DSu: Bah!! Darun!! Kintu plan ta toh sono…ekbar plan sun lo…

PMu: <phir pakayega saala!!> Haan, bolo

DSu: Ei plan mujhe Prosenjit ke Film se mila…Nijer hired goonda theke heroine ke bachiye woh heroine ke tule nei…How ingenious!!

Similarly, aap PESU, Zhibpur mein Student riot karo...itna zyada ki VC control na kar paye…tarpor aami single-handedly goonda tariye situation control kar lunga…then mere VC hone ke liye sympathy mil jayega…ami VC, just imagine!!!!!!!!!!!!!

PMu: Itna phudak mat…mera chokra logo ko kya ab acting bhi karna padega?? Kisine tujhe mar kar leta diya toh? Mera paisa to doob jayega…

DSu: Aami o khoka noi…Main Martial Arts janta hoon!! UGC er karate course correspondence e kiya hoon!!

PMu: Baap re!! Tab toh mere aadmi ko khatra hai!

DSu: Arrey na re..ekdum Filmi fight hobe…Aami UGC er theke acting course o korechi…correspondence e!!

PMu: Ok..toh nikal 60 lakhs!!!

DSu: eto bese??

But, kyun?? Hisab bojhao!

PMu: Tujhe VC banna hai ki nahi? Agar haan to nikal paisa…acting ke charges alaag se padega+ VAT bhi toh hai na!

DSu: Hai re…eto taka kahan se milega??

PMu: VC banne ke bad…university funds se de dena…

DSu: Chalo..thik acche… Date ar Time fix korbo after june… Tar aage bari ta repair korte hobe and Gari badalna padega…after all, VC banne chala hoon…Merry Christmas to me!!

PMu: Kya bE!! Ek lafa marunga!! Hindutva bhul gaya kya??? Bol "Merry Janamasthami to me"!!

DSu: Ok Ok …gussa mat ho!! Bye…phone rakhchi!! Thank u , thank u < distant humming heard over the line for a while "chiggy wiggy….chiggy wiggy….chi…*cut*>

So there you have it…a "big" time professor from the Dept. of electrical engineering and Pramod Muthalik planning a major coup at PESU, Zhibpur…Sadly, this country has gone to the dogs...

Signing Out…gogol

Friday, May 14, 2010

The art of Oration...<sadly> eludes me

To speak in public, in front of an audience, presentations etc. has become something of an issue for me. While I feel at home communicating one on one or taking on a group, emptying my mind out via. the conduit of words, issued from my nozzle-like mouth(not to be taken literally, of course) ...Blabbering in front of a indifferent crowd or an inquisitive gathering for that matter, makes me break out in a cold sweat...that's when the performance quotient in me hits the bottom. I do, however, manage to conceal my goof-ups during the extempore, presentations and orations/discourses, thanks to the put-on calm I masquerade. In reality, I have rivulets of sweat flowing from the forehead all the way down to the toes. To talk shit in a structured manner conforming to a script, looks so despicable that thoughts of running away from the centrestage flood my mind.
What aggravates my woe even further is that I find so many others delivering memorized speech rather effortlessly. I tried that for myself and thanks to my ''selective memory'' , I couldn't get past the first few lines. When it comes to mugging up, my memory is no better than a sieve.
To help me out, it rained suggestions, weird suggestions...Mom said and I quote,'' read it, memorize it and then write it down...you'll never botch up again!''. Just imagine...to go through the script is such a pain in the bum, then to mug it up (something of a third degree torture) and finally to scribble it down...isn't strangling myself easier??
Still more despairing suggestion courtesy sister,'' Take up drinking...a small dose of alcohol before your 'jig' will help you calm your nerves...its a tested strategy...so many artist/singers do it and it sure does work''
Doesn't help much since I'll never taste 'sura'; one of many in the naive set of commitments I must take care of. Some downright trash in the name of suggestion,'' *ank yourself hours in advance...the fatigue should help you reign in your stage fright''...what an idea, sirji !! @#*&^@#%#%;@!!!!
''Clueless??'' I am...''Helpless?'' Yes! ''Seeking help??'' Not yet...''Any bright ideas??'' Nope...this is what echoes between my ears
Suggestions anyone???
Oh, yes!! I almost skipped this bit...My vocal skills misfire only when asked to speak in front of certain elements I'm 'uncomfortable' with...Lemme cite a few anecdotes...
*On the podium, delivering the inaugural speech for a fest, had to cope with a last minute addition... I had to acknowledge the dean of sciences who goes by the name " Bichitra Kumar Guha"...For some reason, my mind got hooked onto his name and set upon trying out its possible alterations. Could barely keep myself from bursting into laughter...and by the time I got back to introducing the rest of the invitees, my composure vanished and so I fumbled on multiple instances during that speech...

* Speaking in front of a "distinguished" audience gets my inner self revolting and I have to constantly check my tongue or else catastrophic words might slip past inviting a hell lot of miseries...here's the pic capturing the "distinguished" ones listening with rapt attention...

*Extempore!! Flashback to the first year...what went wrong back then? Well, I didn't prepare a scription for an extempore session, had to speak while cooking up the subject matter...understandably, the fluidity was missing...but my extempore was a good one by class standards...This however didn't go down well with the English teacher from the dept. of humanities (Mallika something) Was booked for being under prepared…this to some extent abridged my oratory skills. 
Not making much sense, am I? Believe me this problem of mine is getting way beyond my comprehension...Its time I got some help...Is help out there???

Sunday, May 09, 2010

A note destined to be ignored

Date: 09/05/2010
Time: 9:12am
Place: Kolkata
Exact Location: Baghajatin Pally
Status: All vitals normal, increased mental activity, reticent mood

Subject: Note to self

Statement:  This is to reprimand myself on being overtly obsessive in dishing out posts concerning the not-so-candid details of the subject tagged "gogol". The focus of my writings,  henceforth,shall shift to things actually worth sharing and any attempt of self-depreciation/glorification will be dealt with strictly, by all means necessary,effective immediately.

Over and out!

Saturday, May 08, 2010

The End

Finally! No more lectures, labs and file-work...I'm breathing easy for, maybe, the first time in the past couple of years...didn't imagine that life after college could be this tranquil...last night i set a new sleeping record for myself...14 hours flat! Woke up this morning with my head dizzy and disoriented due to sleep overdose...been trying to get my bearings for the last couple of hours...Ahh....nothing's worth watching on the idiot box, internet connection was knocked down by the squall the day before so no surfing either, haven't got any new paperbacks to read and the newspaper didn't have enough juice to keep me at it even for an hour(i.e. actually the pics on the supplement 'Calcutta times' somewhat managed to get me hooked on). sprawling on my bed, gazing at the ceiling, i had slipped into retrospection mode..............
''What did i gain in these 4 years and more importantly what did i lose?''
Out of a multitude of questions i asked myself, this son of a gun question tormented me a lot...dunno why, but i just cudn't come up with an answer despite musing over it for a while...perhaps it will take some time for this feeling of liberation from the plodding of college to sink in, following which i'll be able to debrief myself.
But one thing's for sure...i have unlearned a lot of what i had learned prior to PESU, Zhibpur...for the good or the bad, i think am now reasonably 'world-ready'(whatever that means...).
    "U2" :::::::::::  I ( and countless others) Owe You Some Much.....Thank U for being there for me.....U guys  really are lifesavers!


Saturday, May 01, 2010

Bolti Bandh!

by P(i)TY... PYT...PTI news correspondent Gogol.

Yet another bandh struck our beloved city on the 27th of April and interestingly,a brief spell of thundershowers on Monday evening brought much needed relief from the blistering heat and this heavenly gesture proved to be a blessing in disguise for the CPN (Communist Party of India[Narcissist]) as Kolkatans remained in their beds on Tuesday morning, relishing the cool climate knowing that its unofficially a holiday courtesy the Bharat Bandh. While the opposition cried foul accusing the ruling party of bribing Lord Indra to strategically schedule the rains a day prior to the bandh (in a bid to coax public to oversleep, take the day off and stay at home considering the pleasant weather thus ensuring an effective bandh as claimed by the opposition). CPN however rubbished these allegations...'even God frustrated with the skyrocketing prices, extended His support to our cause...', an excerpt of an official statement released unofficially by the 'Pollute' Bureau...Not to be left behind, Mamata Banerjee (or M Ban in short) directed the railway engineering division to arrange for rains just before her next scheduled bandh... Even as this diktat had leading scientists across the nation scratching their grey matter, a report submitted by a panel of "buddhijeevi"s and "shilpi"s, proposes a plan mooting that rains can be controlled with a railways funded song and dance festival featuring a battery of renouned classical/folk/commercial singers (to be marshalled by stalwarts like Nachiketa, Kabir Suman and co.) belting out the legendary 'Megh Malhar'...M Ban in her characteristic aplomb (she admits spending sleepless night planning "the Monsoon Bandh") endorsed this idea saying its a much reliable alternative to back-dated concepts like cloud-seeding and if the TMC (The Mamata Cartel) pulls this one off then chances are that she would go ahead and implement this idea in the rain-deprived lands of Andhra. Looks like Kolkata can expect some poly-tick-ally wet days ahead.

Saturday, April 24, 2010

I just love powercuts...

Next time you think of cursing the CESC for the incessant load sheddings that we enjoy in our 'City of Joy'... please! please! Do spare some thought for the poor ol' power guys because there's very little that they can come up with to improve the situation. I don't need to break to you all that powercut is a nuisance yet often necessary and almost unanimously percieved as evil (except for blokes like me who revel in those hours of imposed darkness, catering to the instinctive compulsions of my nocturnal alter ego; and yes! you may even find me hanging upside down from the ceiling provided you happen to visit me during a powercut; let me also make it clear that i try not switch on emergency light, inverters, light candles or hurricanes unless, of course, absolutely necessary) The CESC has completely lost the plot, now that the average Kolkatan, wielding the new found purchasing power, prefer air-conditioned comfort over sweating humbly (very soon non A/C households will become a part of 'The Great Bengali Nostalgia')...Even CESC attributes this power shortage to the 300% additional power consumption on an average per consumer thanks to the cost effective A/Cs that have flooded the market targeting the middle class folks. Not that I have anything against the common man enjoying the fruits of consumerism, I hail from the middle class myself, it is the disregard for pragmatic ideals/ rational needs and wants which strangely (given my "like i damn care..." demeanour) baffles me... Enough said!
......Now then...What is it that i like about load sheddings???
To begin with, its sheer predictibility...my sixth sense sends out alerts prior to a PC ( i.e. PowerCut...it aint personal compu or P.Chidambaram)...Thankfully,CESC prefers to stick to a timetable for PCs which BTW is based on the load/consumption pattern over a 24 hour duration. Now where was i??? .....Umm,yes...PC augurs a respite from my mom's silly soaps on Star Jalsa, Pepsi's dumb ads feat. Ranbir and Baba, Tharoor & Modi's IPL drama etc. etc.
If there's an exam round the corner, you get those precious few hours to relax and compose yourself...PCs are a boon in summers...you sweat like a glass of cold water... Sweating as we know helps keep our skin clean, keeps sodium level in check for high BP patients, reduces fat deposits, creates sweat stains on your clothes for you to apply surf excel on, fosters body odour so that you get the excuse of emptying out that can of deo on your body and yada yada yada...Is that all?? Nope, there's a lot more to PC ...Did you notice the streets fall silent as soon as load shedding happens? as if someone simply hit the mute buttton... if the skies are clear, you may rediscover Mr.Moon's splendor and savour the world around you basking in his mild yet invigorating moonlight, gazing at the star studded sky normally cloaked by the city lights, the faint glow of radium on the needles of your watch, fireflies and glow worms prancing about .................To say that "without electricity, life's a drag" is so wrong.... Just pull the plug and watch those hidden facets of the shady parallel world unveil themselves.

Wednesday, March 31, 2010

That sunshine lady…

The bus came to a screeching halt as if on the brink of a brake-failure.  The ensuing jolt made us all sit up straight. Yeah, for some of us, a mini bus is the closest you can get to experience G-forces as in a rollercoaster, everyday. Six new faces boarded the bus, just one caught my attention. “It’s gotta be a lady’s”…yup! I have to give that to you. Her face brought those “ponds googly-woogly-whoosh” TVCs to my mind. “You just made my day!”, I thought…..but something, somewhere didn't seem right.
The seats were all taken, so she stood at a corner behind the driver’s seat, typing frantically on her cell phone. Hints of perspiration were clearly visible along the lines of anxiety on her forehead. She was upset,  I could tell that. She looked out of the window, having finished her texting. The morning sun fell on her face and how it glowed! irradiating the interiors of the bus (for some reason, others were impervious to this phenomena as they remained unbothered ) even though it failed to lighten her up…"diya tale andhera", i concluded. The rickety bus kept on jerking n jolting giving this lady a hard time staying put. In the meanwhile, her phone gave an sms alert and she went on to read it. Her expressions changed drastically…a gush of blood settled on her cheeks and forehead as I watched her face redden (no problem making that out, such being her complexion). Her eyes moistened and were on the verge of a teary outburst. But slowly this lady steeled herself, all the while murmuring within herself, desperately trying to find equanimity even as teardrops rolled down her cheeks. And then she deployed her sunglasses.
It worked! Once her cheeks were patted dry with handkerchief, she was back to her radiant self (now that her reddened eyes were no longer visible) , looking extremely serene in that white attire of hers. Any traces of unpleasantness left on her face were effectively covered up by her auburn hair curls. The lady in question gazed out of the window for sometime, her lips involuntarily letting out a few sighs, her fingers fiddling with her bangles all the while.
I felt annoyed with Him. There’s no way that woman deserved distress; such a spoiler to her glowing persona. My stop was near, I got up and motioned her to take my seat. She smiled and issued a thanks as she settled down. Her grace took effect on me as the voice kept on tinkling in my head as I got off the bus. I turned around to find her gripping her phone firmly and looking at nowhere. The bus moved on and so did I...

Saturday, March 27, 2010

Winds of change????

With the women's resevervation bill having made it through the Rajya Sabha and now awaiting green signal from the Lok Sabha, Indian women seems to have woken up from the grogginess of being denied what they justly deserve. The clearly evident "winds of change" have been blowing over our campus for the past couple of weeks. Something really heartening caught my eyes, a few days back.
The bending lining the avenue leading to the first lobby of the administrative building, which doubles up as an open air hang out where students  have chats/discussions over beverages all the while perched on the bending assimilating a 360 Degree situational awareness. This used to be a strictly male bastion for decades, a "bird-watching" vantage point to be precise. Well, I came across a dozen juniors lodged at the bending killing time/bunking classes/observing...I did a quick headcount and the stats were quite familiar. 8 guys & 4 gals...that would be 33.33% of the fairer sex of the sample taken. Isn't this figure close to what political honchos are trying to peddle in the Lok Sabha...33% reservation...Whether it's coincidental or mindfully done, the fact that girls of BESU having taken to the bending is a positive trend regardless of the percentage involved. So, Viva La Femme!!! Go f**k urself, Mulayam!!

Mayawati admiring Mayawati...

Mayawati a.k.a Behenji looking up to the icon of woman power in India and maybe across the globe. And why not? After all she seems have it all i.e the looks, the moolah, the men, the tashan, the attitude, the monochromatic salwars, the hair-do, the spot light, the elephant..................
Take a bow, BEHENJI!
Your persona makes even Sonia look timid, Indira Nooyi incompetent, Kiran Bedi juvenile, Katrina gauche, Rakhi Sawant sober & Mallika well-dressed(the pun implied is intentional) 

**********I often wonder about the other possible implications or say alterations of this bill??
Maybe, instead of a single(two  in some cases) ladies seat in the buses, there can a 33% reservation applicable. Perhaps a 1/3rd of the total no. of bogies in a local train will be assigned "ladies special". Who knows Shankar- Ehsaan- Loy may surprise us by casting off somebody from themselves and inducting a woman in the trio.************************************************************
(Hey!! I know what "Mahila Arakshan" bill  states, that it doesn't hint at any of the things I mentioned above...still, this post explores new possibilities and extensions for the proposed bill above and over the reservation meant for elected representative bodies only. This gibber should be taken with a pinch of salt)

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

How would you prefer to die?? charred in a fiery inferno or the gravity assisted concussive death?

To watch those poor souls who took the leap from windows of the Stephen House as they came crashing down on the pavement just so to escape a death by fire, filled me with a myriad of thoughts whose essence still eludes me. What would I have chosen, had I been in their shoes?
 Exactly a month earlier we witnessed a similar tragedy at the Carlton Tower, Bangalore. Now, its easy  to draw parallels between the two incidents interestingly these accidents share the same date of a month i.e the 23rd. Almost similar negligence of fire safety measures, late emergency response, politicos milking the situation, the brave common man leading the rescue efforts while authority sheepishly shrug their shoulders of any liability etc. For us, denizens of Kolkata, turning on the idiot box to grab the latest breaking news, these events/accidents barely touch upon the eventuality of us getting trapped in similar mishappenings. You see, the Grimm Reaper has this trick up his sleeves, of catching one off guard; a surprise that he throws so aptly that you don't get the time to react.

In India, he doesn't even have to get his timing right because everywhere you look(don't mistake it for a paranoia), you can discover scores of deathtraps set for unwary victims. I won't dwell on the loopholes cuz there are simply too many to cover. 
 Simple hydrants and fire extinguishers are obviously ineffective against such raging fires. We must consider other more potent safety measures...cuz its prudence in assuming that fire brigade would never get to you in time.

* Fire escape chutes: must for high rises and apartments...Really effective for evacuating safely multiple victims rapidly. These cost quite a fortune but pays even by saving countless life in such dire circumstances.

* inflatable Rescue  cushions: Cost effective solution for saving people who jump out from a couple of floors above ground. These can be deployed really fast, could have saved so many people who died hitting the ledges and pavement trying to escape being burnt alive. Reports indicate them to be available with the fire services but kept in a godown somewhere in kolkata at an undisclosed location (Even the fire fighters don't know where!)

* Retractable escape ladders: Could have made a lot of difference for those who had to use cable TV wires and curtains to rappel down. The rescuers would have found them handy as well.

Automated Rappeling line for gently lowering victims down high rises:
Much better than those unreliable nylon ropes they put to use yesterday.

 * Fire Sprinklers: critical in arresting small fires before they can grow into a wild blaze. These are a standard in homes abroad but here in India, we can so easily give' em a miss.

well, i do know this...writing this post ain't gonna rustle even a leaf. Just so to lessen my guilt of being latent to do anything about it made me dig up this stuff . I have complete faith in the 100% desi "Chalta hai" spirit that these measures won't be there, in may God forbid, future fire accidents.