Dummy's guide to getting a Passport

My country loves me. I feel like the luckiest man on earth. It has been proved beyond doubt how much India would hate to let me go. The amount of hurdles they put in my path before I could even submit my passport application makes me wonder if India truly does care about her children.

You would think that with 1 Billion people, the government would be more than happy to see people leave the country. But no. I am the one who has to pay them 1000 bucks to even consider leaving.

Well me and my parents spent the better part of a month figuring out a way to apply for a passport and here are the steps anyone has to take :

1) Consider whether it is truly worth that much effort.

2) If you are really sure, go to the passport office website where you will get a .pdf file to be printed.

3) Spend the better part of a week in searching for documents like your grandfather's school leaving certificate, your great grandfather's marriage certificate and your own sanity certificate.

4) Fill up the form and go to the post office to submit it, only to be told that you first need to register your name online and then print the form.

5) Tear up everything you have in frustration.

6) Shoot yourself in the head.

7) If the above step was not carried out satisfactorily, do it again.

8) If you have still not died, go register online and print the form again.

9) Gather all your documents again and stand in line at the post office where the lady tells you to fill another form.

10) After filling up the form give it to her. That's her cue to frown at you and say "Fees Bharo".

11) Get the receipt, jump up in joy.

12) Yell out loud "YES YES YES!!!!!" and watch as 4 people in the line behind you leave for home thinking, "I am never leaving India................... ever."

Matheran Mazaa

Thanks to Mumbai University postponing my Control Systems paper to 14th of Jan, we have a 12 day leave for Signal processing. We decided to make full use of the time by planning a one day trip to Matheran.

Vineet and I were supposed to leave at 4 am from our building to catch the 5.00 am train to Neral from Dadar. i set the alarm for 2.30 in the morning because I wanted to catch the last few minutes of the Arsenal game.

Flash forward to 4 am when I got a call from Vineet. I realized my alarm had not gone off and I was pretty late. I had a bath in water that was freezing because there was no time and to my surprise, exactly 12 minutes later we were taking a rickshaw to the station. It didn't matter that I was late because Matoo and Gaurav came to Dadar even later than us and Chaukya and Kunal had bought tickets to Nerul instead of Neral and had to get it changed.

We reached Neral after a train ride that was laced with stupid electrical engineer jokes which made we wish I had not taken engineering in the first place (but then again so does everything else). A short taxi ride later we were at Matheran where we were charged 25 bucks to just get entry. We walked all the way to Matheran station because cars are mercifully not allowed inside.

We sat down to have breakfast at a seedy looking hotel with surprisingly good kaanda poha and we were soon ordering seconds. While we were leaving, the owner cum waiter cum cook cum accountant presented us with a bill for 350 bucks!!!! A complete rip off because he showed us the menu only after we had finished eating.

We bought a map and decided to walk in a great ellipse covering as many points as we could and saw some amazing scenery. After a really long short cut, we came to points with really weird names like Lord point, Gorilla Point, One Tree Hill, Porcupine Point. The One Tree Hill was a total scam because the tree was nothing more than a shrub. We could hear no echoes at Echo point and we were harassed by touts who wanted to give us rooms in cottages. But the splendid walking trails and the views made up for all the inconvenience.

We had to wait in line to get the tickets for the toy train journey from Matheran back to Neral, something I had not done since I was 2 years old. Below the train is a sheer drop of 3000 feet and we got some nice pics and videos of the view below.

From Neral to Dadar we took a crowded local train. It was in Dadar where the fun began when we found that there was a line fault and some of the local trains had been canceled. There was a huge crowd at dadar and we couldn't even get on an Andheri local. We decided to take a bus home only to be told that the roads were clogged. We decided to walk to Mahim and with Kunal and Gaurav almost on the verge of collapse, we managed to find a relatively empty train and got into it.

We reached home at around 11 at night after walking total of 25 km that day. That's the most I have walked in a day for close to seven years. Well at least its a start to my marathon ambitions :-)

I still have 9 days to kill and so I have started to learn pencil sketching. It seems an uphill task because me and drawing are old adversaries but lets hope I make quick progress. Back to the drawing board....

A Good Movie with EMF round the corner

Bhavans college has just started a movie club and they had their first screening today. They screened "Super Size Me"- a documentary that focuses on the American fast food industry and McDonalds in particular. The maker of the film went on a McDonalds diet in which he ate nothing but food available at McDonalds for 30 days just to see how it affects his health.

A superb movie but a bit too long for some morons in the audience who got impatient about halfway through and started passing some loud comments. Typical Bhavans style I must say and I now realize why two years in that college were enough for me. Nivi was kind enough to let me know about the screening and I am definitely going to see the next movie Godzilla- the original Japanese one. Just the kind of movie I want to see during exams. Hope there is no paper on that day.

Speaking of exams I have Electromagnetic Waves and Fields on Friday and I am taking far too long over the subject. Got to cover a lot of ground since about 60% of the syllabus is Greek to me. 3 more days to go for the eggjams so wish me luck.......

Mumbai University Sucks

Damn Mumbai University. Our exams are going to stretch on from 7th of December to the 9th of January, and all this for 6 papers.

Our time table:

7th Dec

12th Dec

17th Dec

21st Dec

29th Dec

9th Jan

The subjects are not important but the dates are. An exam that lasts 1 month? This after a study leave which started on the 2nd of November.

Now we get even more bad news. When the morons at the university set the dates, they did not bother to see that 21st is Bakri Id. So now the paper on the 21st will probably be postponed to the 17th of Jan. The IEEE trip to Dehradun, Rishikesh and Haridwar is scheduled to leave on the 12th of Jan, so it might be cancelled now.

Thanks a lot a******s.

English football is dead, long live English football

Hyped, pampered and completely overrated - these are the adjectives that English footballers have come to be associated with for quite a few years now. In spite of having a God given chance to prove their critics wrong, they have done exactly the opposite by living up to their monikers. The most important match in several years and Wembly couldn’t have been a more ideal location to win back a shot at glory and needless to say, they made a thorough meal of things.

Needing just a draw against visitors Croatia, who had lost to lowly Macedonia over the weekend, England manager Steve McClaren could not have been more overconfident as he experimented with an already unstable side. However confident he was, I still believe no manager should throw in untested players in such crucial matches, which is what McClaren did by handing goalkeeper Scott Carson his first competitive start. Admitted Paul Robinson is not exactly the greatest keeper on the planet, but at least he has more experience than the 22 year old Carson. Perhaps a better choice would have been David James who, although is not getting any younger, has been in superb form at Portsmouth.

That decision was the first of many blunders which cost England a place in Austria this summer. A speculative 30 yard shot by Nico Kranjcar just after 8 minutes bounced in front of Carson who could only parry it over himself into the roof of the net. Ivica Olic latched on to a sublime Eduardo pass just 6 minutes later, when Wayne Bridge and Shaun Wright Phillips both played him onside, and found the back of the net, without Carson getting a touch on the ball. What Wright- Phillips was doing so far back, is a question perhaps he could answer better.

This brings us to another questionable McClaren tactic. Leaving David Beckham on the bench in favour of the aforementioned Wright Phillips, proved to be a blunder as Phillips is nowhere near as good as Beckham when it comes to delivering an inch perfect cross, which was the need of the hour rather than aimlessly running back and forth over the pitch which Philips. Beckham who came on in the 46th minute did what was expected of him and his cross allowed Peter Crouch to equalize in the 65th minute after Frank Lampard scored from the spot after 56 minutes.

However England seemed destined to lose the match as Mladen Petric scored from a 25 yard thunderbolt, 13 minutes from time, breaking English hearts in the process. With a defensive mentality setting in, England were hoping and praying they could cling on but this tactic backfired as none of the players seemed committed to the cause. No one came forward to close Petric down and allowed him to steal England’s thunder.

A 4-5-1 formation can also be blamed as there was no support for Peter Crouch whose clever flick-ons were wasted as no one came forward to take advantage of them. Croatia looked like a thoroughly professional outfit and did not really feel any pressure as they had already qualified.

The English had a substitute defence with unconvincing Wayne Bridge and Joleon Lescott teaming up with youngster Micah Richards and veteran Sol Campbell. John Terry’s absence had considerably weakened the side.

But what is really astonishing is the appalling performance of the midfield. None of the midfielders really looked as if they wanted to play the match. Steven Gerrard looked like a shadow of the player who captains Liverpool and Frank Lampard was so silent, the first time he appeared to be on the pitch was when he stepped up to take the penalty. I shall refrain from commenting on Gareth Barry and Joe Cole.

Peter Crouch was the only saving grace for England as he posed a real threat to the Croatian defence. However playing the isolated striker is useful only if the midfield comes forward and he was ultimately outnumbered by the Croatians.

This game just about sums up the English squad which is filled with players who are much talked about and praised when they play for their respective clubs, but do not begin to resemble a team when playing together.

The Euro debacle means that Steve McClaren will no longer continue as England Manager. The quest for a new manager begins with big names like Fabio Capello and Jose Mourinho allegedly being considered for the job. However, one can only hope that the next manager does a better job than old Stevie, who should just have stuck to Middlesbrough where he did a considerably better job.

WTF?

Last Jan we went on the famed IEEE Trip to Bangalore, Mysore Ooty and Calicut. Many funny incidents occured, famous among them "The incident of the magic pants", the "Haraami Bengali comment" and AG's immortal "My ambition in life is to be a telephone operator in a Mysore Hotel" story. One of these incidents had me wondering, WTF?

We were going to Calicut from Ooty in a bus meant for kindergarten students and we stopped at a place to have breakfast. It was a small truck stop where you could be confident of getting idlis and wadas and stuff.

So we occupy a table and I am told that only masala dosa is available. So we call the waiter and I rattle off the order in Tamil. After listening to the entire order, the guy tells me in hindi that he doesn't understand Tamil. At this point, AG tells me she doesn't want a masala dosa because she doesn't trust the potatoes in Ooty or something and so I tell the guy in Hindi, instead of one of the masala dosas, please bring a saadha dosa.

The guy stiffens, looks me square in the face and solemnly tells me, " the cook does not know how to make saadha dosa. Only masala dosa is available".................WTF?

Later on after we finish laughing and eating, the guy looks at me, laughs and tells me in Tamil, "the bill is 109 rupees". Once again .................. WTF?

True Democracy?

I cannot fathom the reason behind the amount of media attention given to the emergency in Pakistan. Pakistan was never a truly democratic state to begin with and the emergency imposed by Pervez Musharraf does not come as a great surprise. But inspite of this glaring fact, the Indian media seems to be taken up with this event.

Is this a clever political tactic to divert our attention from the situation in Nandigram, a village in the world's largest democracy? I saw no evidence of Lincoln's principles in Nandigram when scenes from the village were broadcast last night. It appears that CPI cadres have taken over the area with the tacit approval of the police and are holding the villagers hostage.

The news channels seem to have nothing better to do than station reporters in front of theatres across Mumbai and Delhi and ask people which movie is better, Om Shanti Om or Saawaria.

Words like freedom of choice and such are regularly bandied about by our esteemed Prime Minister, but inspite of having the third largest standing army in the world at his disposal, Mr. Singh seems to be powerless to stop this situation. Why this hypocrisy? I am sure if the BJP was responsible for the problems in Nandigram, the Congress would stop at nothing to hunt them down. However Mr. Singh has taken a liking to 7, Racecourse Road, and would go to any extent to humour his allies.

While scenes from the area are broadcast for the entire nation to see, Mr. Buddhadeb Bhattacharya comes on camera, trying to downplay the incident and has the audacity to say no one in the area in under duress. We believe you sir.

While we can all rejoice the fact that another diwali has gone with several of us getting new cell-phones and cars for the festive season, some of our fellow countrymen are still fighting the battle which was supposedly over in 1947. Is this what all our heroes died for?

Mission Submission

Submissions are getting more and more irritating with each passing semester and this sem is the toughest yet. I had, at the beginning of last week 59 assignments pending and was in for a bad time. Glad to announce that the rahu-kaalam is now over. I have only 3 more journals to submit and two of them are complete and i am completing the third as I blog.

In other news, I am the proud owner of a Honda Unicorn Sport. Pics to be uploaded soon......

Ciao.

Joginder Sharma

India's 20-20 World Cup hero. Man, does this guy look like a hostelite or what?

Hilarious Mythology

Every time I hear about something incredibly stupid in a soap or a movie, I start wondering where the script writers get these ideas. After several of these moments, I realized Indian mythology is a great source of inspiration. Some of these incidents are so hilarious, that were they not part of the great sanskriti and ethos of our land, people will be laughing their asses off.

There is the story of the fight between Krishna and Jambavan (King of the bears). The story says they fought continuously for twenty eight, that's right, twenty eight days when Jambavan somehow realized that Krishna is the incarnation of Vishnu and he will take birth again as Rama. So he drops the whole thing and begs for forgiveness. Not only that, he also offers his daughter Jambavati's (no kidding, that's her name; imaginative right?) hand in marriage to Krishna who accepts it.

Now if I fight a guy for 28 minutes, leave alone 28 days, the only thing I will be thinking of offering him is a stick up his ass. I think if we had Jambavan instead of Gandhi, we would have been free in even lesser time. The British would never have been willing to rule such a moronic race of people right?

Another well known story is the incident where Arjuna has to fire 6 arrows through a spinning wheel while looking not at the target, but at its reflection. And surprise surprise, he succeeds. Anyone laughing at a Mithun or Rajnikanth flick now better brace your asses now.

Another one is the ultra filmy scene where the Pandavas return to their hut after Arjuna wins Draupadi. He calls out to Kunti and says "Hey mom look what I got!!!". Kunti shouts at him for disturbing her sleep and says," Whatever you got share it equally with your brothers". And now instead of running inside and telling her he won a girl, our hero decides that "Maa ke aagnya ka paalan karna humaara kartavya hai" and all five brothers marry her. Hilarious or what?

I can think of several more scenes but you get the idea right? The next time you see some cliched sequence on screen, don't blame the script writer, blame our treasure trove of epics and the amazingly cool sages who wrote them.

P.S. I wont be surprised if a bunch of guys from the BJP or VHP call for my head now. Though i suspect they will offer a significantly lesser amount for it than Karunanidhi's. In the range of 1000 Rs. maybe?????

Gunners on Top

I have really not been that active the past month because of college fests and stuff but I am back now so readers of A Dateless Diary rejoice............... ya all 3 of you.

The season is 6 games old and Arsenal have dropped just 2 points (thanks Mr. Lehmann). Top of the table 4 points clear of the scousers makes it sound like a dream. But there we are, in our rightful place.

Though there are still 32 matches to go, I cant help but feel this is our year. Fabregas seems to be stepping into the role of the talisman Henry was. He is filling those big boots with remarkable elan. 6 goals in 6 games is no mean feat. He has been simply magnificent this season. As for Adebayor, the critics will be eating their words now with him scoring 5 goals in 2 games.

With Mourinho leaving Chelsea and a scoring problem at ManU, things have been easier but no such luck in Europe. Sheer talent helped us demolish Sevilla 3-0. All this success seems to have gone to my head so I would hate to be proved wrong.

Here is to a brilliant season and hope we finally win in Europe.

Invincible again?

2nd Place

The finals of Mosh was something I was really looking forward too because I hardly messed up during practice.

We played Born to raise Hell by Motorhead, Let me entertain you by Robbie Williams and The Saints are coming by U2.

The first song was good. We performed the second song well too, but I dont think the judges liked the song selection. The third song was supposed to be our crown jewel because we had practiced this song very well, but something went wrong and Aditya got the timing of the drumbeats wrong. So messed it up. No amount of on-stage antics by me and Ganpati could take that away.

The competition was ok. Three of the bands tried to do difficult songs only to mess up the vocals. We were pretty decent on that front so we were the runners up. The band who came first were good. Their timing was just perfect. Still, I feel we could have done better.

The guys who came first all got cellphones. Hope we get something good too. I heard talk of bluetooth headsets, ipod speakers and even 3 pairs of slippers(dont ask).

2nd place in my very first gig. A sign of good things to come?????????????

Rohit with Paradigm

I just played on stage for the first time ever today. I was the stand-in bassy for Paradigm and we participated in the elims of Mosh, the Western Band Competition, at Umang 2007.

Jinju called me up yesterday afternoon and told me he needed a bassy. Though I have never handled a base guitar in my life, I was eager to try things out and went for the jam. I actually played the acoustic for practice as there was no bass guitar available at Echo Point.

I managed to hit the right notes and we were ready to roll. Jinju has an awesome voice and we have two amazing guitarists in Ashwin and Nandan. Aditya Talwar is great on drums.

We covered Born to Be Wild by Steppenwolves and Animal by Pearl Jam. After our performance, the cheers told me we were making it to the finals and by God we did. Top marks and we are playing in the finals on saturday baby.........yeeeaaahhhh!

A New Season Begins

11th of August brought back the English Premier League to our screens and what a beginning it was!!!

I was really happy to see Roy Keane back in the EPL, this time as the manager of Sunderland. A brilliant opening match saw Sunderland edging out the Spurs right at the death, thanks to a stunning goal by Keane's latest buy, Michael Chopra. I was especially happy because now the Spurs will have to think twice about breaking into the top 4. Thanks Michael, all Arsenal fans love you.

Newly promoted Derby County had a good match against Portsmouth at Pride Park, drawing 2-2 with Andy Todd equallising just a minute after Etuhu gave Pompey the lead after 82 minutes.
Harry Redknapp has much to worry about when he meets Sir Alex Ferguson's side this Wednesday.

Another match worth watching was Liverpool against Aston Villa, in which Liverpool just shaved it thanks to a stunning free kick in the 87th minute by Gerrard. Torres seems to be good but will he go the Cisse way remains to be seen. Liverpool are still looking shaky which serves me just fine.

Florent Malouda proved yet again why he is worth 13 million pounds when he scored against Birmingham to put Chelsea up 2-1. The match was a hard fought 3-2 victory for the Blues, and Birmingham showed their strength by giving Chelsea a hard time.

Manchester United were held to a goalless draw by 10 man Reading (Woohoo!!!). Not an auspicious start for the defending champions. Steve Coppel's boys were brilliant as they held on to thwart wave after wave of Manchester's attacks.

At long last, coming to Arsenal. A new start against Fulham. What the hell was Lehmann thinking? He tried to be clever and ended up conceding a goal in the 51st second itself. Arsenal dominated, with some excellent performances by Bakary Sagna, Gael Clichy and Alexander Hleb. The defence was shaky though and there were a couple of scary moments. But as usual, we equalised in the 84th minute thanks to a Van Persie penalty and took the lead in the 87th with a goal by Alex Hleb. Same old story? Hope we win more convincingly next time.

Special mention must be made of Nicholas Bendtner. He came on as a substitute for Rosicky in the 74th minute and was brilliant throughout. He is the man to watch out for this season. Amazing physical presence. I am sure we would have scored in the first half itself had he started. I am hoping for a better performance next week against Blackburn. And I am also counting on Arsenal thrashing Sparta Prague 5-0 this Wednesday

Go Gunners!!!

Chak De Hockey

I just saw Chak De India and I have to admit it is a fine movie. A bit melodramatic, but surprisingly down to earth and true to life for a Yash Raj Films venture.

We have all heard of such stories and watched many movies on this theme. A ragtag bunch of sportsmen come together to form a dream team. It is a tried and tested formula and it has almost always worked. However the question is, will it work for a game like hockey?

The answer is yes. Shahrukh, is Kabir Khan, one of India's finest centre forwards. Its the finals of the Hockey World cup, and he misses the decisive penalty which costs India the gold. He is accused of match fixing and retires into obscurity after being branded a traitor by an unforgiving public.

7 years later, the Indian Hockey Association needs a coach for the women's hockey team for the World Championship. Enter Kabir Khan, who feels this is his one chance for redemption. The attitude of the association is, these women are going to come back in the first round itself, so why even bother? Kabir thinks otherwise and is determined to prove his point.

In the training camp, he becomes a strict disciplinarian, as he almost kills the girls during training. He brings them together as a team, teaching them to put the team ahead of their egos. They hate him at first, but soon realize his good intentions and start to believe in themselves. A stuttering start to the cup, then a resurgence, sees the team enter the nerve wrecking finals, and the rest is history.

What I really liked about the movie is the cast, and the relentless cricket bashing. For the second point alone, I am ready to give this movie a 5 on 5. I loved the way the team members are portrayed. Like the two girls from the North East, who are called Chinese or Nepali by the rest of "us" or the girls from Jharkhand, who cannot speak proper Hindi. They are stereotyped but I think that was required to get the message across that it is the country that is important, not the state.

What I did not like, was the unnecessary melodrama and the predictable dialogues.

But overall, it was a decent film. Shahrukh was good, but hammed it a bit in the middle. This movie seems to be a somewhat accurate reflection of the attitude of people, and the authorities, towards hockey. A cricketer even calls it Gilli Danda. Also women are always looked down upon when it comes to Indian sports. The conditions they train in are truly appalling. The movie also seems to prove one thing - people have short memories because immediately after the team's triumphant return, the public forgets all about his missed penalty and fall in love with him again.

Definitely worth a watch. I would say, 3.5 on 5.

An Apology

To all of my friends out there who read this (and even those who don't)...........

I have finally realized that I have been acting like a dumb jerk all this time. I have been trying to be someone I wasn't, and in doing so, have alienated many of you. I have been trying to be at the centre of things for so long that I did not realize that I have almost lost my true identity.

What has already happened, I cannot change but I certainly can change my attitude towards the world and towards you. I begin by saying a heartfelt SORRY to all of you, whom I have hurt by my behavior.

To all of those who stuck by me, in the hope that you would get the old Rohit back, and made me realize my mistakes, I cannot thank you enough.

I thought the people I hung out with in recent times really liked me, and I did a lot of unnecessary things to keep that non-existent feeling alive. Thanks to my real friends, I have realized that you are a big bunch of losers. To you I only say, "Fuck Yourselves".

P.S. To all those who have read and not understood, refrain from discussing this with me.
Those of you for whom this apology was intended, I am back........

Ga Ga over Yoga

College has finally started and third year already seems to be a major pain. But I noticed that I was really getting out of shape. I really want to maintain my physique which closely resembles that of a major bollywood star...... yup that's right I am talking about Govinda. (Good Lord! I need to do something fast.)

I needed some form of exercise which didnt take up a lot of time and also one which did not involve a significant monetary investment. So Vineet, who is the best source of news about what is happenning in the Goregaon area, suggested we take up yoga at the nearby gymkhana. To be honest, I was more attracted by the fees of Rs. 550 for a 3 month course than by anything else and I agreed.

As it turned out, we had missed 2 weeks of the course before we joined and would have to work hard to catch up. Strapping youths that we are, it didnt take long. That is, it didn't take long for us to realize we were in deep shit.

Yoga, the ancient Indian fitness routine, has a number of postures or aasanas which can be performed standing, sitting, lying down, pretty much while doing anything. The aasanas are graded according to difficuly level as:
1) Painful
2) More Painful
3) I need anaesthesia
4) Just shoot me and get it over with

Every day, we start off with the Vajrasana, a simple enough posture. We keep saying "Aum" throughout the one hour. The instructor is a friendly guy makes you work hard enough for you to actually dream of a prison camp in Siberia.

The class is full of oldies who looked suspiciously at us when we came the first day. They were under the impression we were misguided and turned the wrong way while we were going for a football game. I looked at the oldies and smiled in self satisfaction thinking that because of my younger age and stronger physique, I would make them look like idiots while I was doing my aasanas. Wrong. Turns out, these guys have already done yoga for years and the ease with which they seem to pull off the toughest aasanas, makes we wish I could sink into the ground.

Each day, we do a different set of aasanas, standing one day, lying down the other and so on. I have been in the class four days and have enjoyed it immensely. Yes it is painful, but as the instructor puts it, "Pain is good".

Hopefully I will survive the next 2 months. Wish me luck because right now, a posture means pain in the posterior. Better still, an aasana is a pain in the arse. Egad!!!

The PH Level

My vacations are dragging and because I have nothing better to do and am a total waste sometimes, I decided to come up with a new unit of measuring something.

What is the one thing that plagues modern life with all its weird propaganda and irrelevance today? Its the news of course. So now we are measuring newsworthiness.

But newsworthiness is a very complex thing you tell me. How can we define it? And more importantly, how do we measure it? So I decided like all units, we need a standard. The standard kilogram is the iridium bar they have at the International Beureau of Weights and Standards in France. The standard second is the time taken a cesium atom to complete a nasty and huge number of vibrations.

So who is the person who sets the standard for being on the news? I went into a reverie, and was lost in deep thought and .08 seconds later, I came up with the perfect candidate. It is so obvious. The one person whose every action makes it to the news. Innumerable debates start when this person so much as drops her handkerchief (more often her pants). I am of course refering to the incomparable Paris Hilton.

So Paris Hilton is the standard and the unit is now aptly titled "The PH Level".

Now, the comparing begins. Which brings us to Rohit's first law of newsworthiness:

"Every action of Paris Hilton automatically has a PH level of 10."

Now we have drawn the boundary. Because no one is more newsworhy than Paris Hilton, nothing and no one has a PH level of more than 10. Now the question is - how newsworthy is a random event? Which leads us to Rohit's second law:

"The more irrelevant and totally unimportant an event is, the higher the PH level of that event, keeping in mind Rohit's first law and its implications."

So for those of you still reading, it will come as no surprise that the events and people described in most gossip columns and The Bombay Times, will necessarily have a PH Level of at-least 7 (Though this is not a rule).

As a guideline, the following events are described along with their appropriate PH Level:

1) Sienna Miller thinks her neighbour's nephew's pet cat is gay.
PH Level: 8.6

2) Abhishek Bachchan weds Aishwarya Rai.
PH Level: 9.8

3) Militants hold hundreds hostage in Lal Masjid
PH Level: 1.2

4) Mandira Bedi's views on militants holding hundreds hostage in Lal Masjid.
PH Level: 8.3

You get the drift. So if you have nothing better to do (Stop kidding yourself. We are both blogging and you are reading The Dateless Diary. We are both losers. Just accept it) please submit your examples of news and your reckoning of their PH Level*. This will greatly aid my research and help me formulate my theories and further my research on the subject.

*Since Research is in its nascent stages, PH levels might vary slightly. Also, for the time being, PH Level only applies to celebrities and stuff that appears in print or any other form of media.

The Boss Rules

The other day I finally saw Sivaji: The Boss at infinity. This was my first Rajni movie in a theater and it was simply an awesome experience.

Ticets were 130 bucks. Total rip-off but thats a multiplex for you. I really thought the place would be empty but was surprised to see it was almost full. Even the 175 waala seats were taken. I waited in anticipation for the spectacle which was to unfold.

The cheers and whistles that could be heard when Rajni made his big entry, could have blown the roof off any theater. I found myself clapping and cheering with the rest of the crowd.

The story is simple. Rajni is Sivaji, a computer engineer who returns from the US with a fortune of Rs. 200 crores, with which he plans to open a hospital and college for the poor in India. He is also on the lookout for a bride, a girl who is a total Bharatiya Nari. Someone who sings classical music, knows Bharatanatiyam and all that.

So he tries to get things done legally, obtaining permission for building and stuff but finds out nothing can be accomplished without bribing people. So going against his principles, he bribes a lot of people and gets the construction of his college started.

Now the baddie is Aditya. A guy who is desperately in need of Close Up. He is the owner of another medical college and charges hefty amounts for seats in his own college. So Sivaji's free college is obviously going to screw up his entire business and so he plans Sivaji's downfall.

After a lot of bad stuff happens to Sivaji, he ends up penniless and vows to take revenge and construct his hospital and college.

What follows is an extravagant display of Rajnikanth's trademark style and fights. He kicks everyone's ass and ends up victorious.

There is a sub-plot which follows Rajni's rather hilarious attempts to try to get Shriya, the girl of his dreams, to like him. In this task, he is ably assisted by his uncle Vivek who gets in some good comments and has acted really well.

Special mention should be made about the incredibly hot Shriya. If being bald, 55 and really not that good looking was the price to pay for getting close to this girl, I would embrace my fate gladly.

What Shankar lacks in the story, he more than makes up for in the ambiance and sets. The art director has done an exceptional job in creating the sets for most of the song sequences. Really extravagant and lavish. And of course, he has Rajnikanth, who could make even a pathetic movie like Jhoom baraabar Jhoom a success.

The first half of the movie is all about Shankar, the dialogue writer and the art director, along with the various supporting cast. the second half is all about Rajnikanth. He pulls off the most insane stunts with ease for example the stoppie he performs with a car or the way he does a simple thing like eating chewing gum.

All in all a movie that should not be missed. And all those who still think Amitabh or (God forbid) Abhishek is better, watch Sivaji: The Boss and see your beliefs get scattered among the dust. It is full paisa vasool.

Memories of happiness

The wind whistled through the trees as the old fiat came to a halt by the gate. The word "gate", did the rust covered obstruction between the dirt road and the old house a great courtesy.

The old man who stepped out of the fiat, preceded it by almost half a century in age. He was well dressed. But he rather looked like he would be better half indoors. Indeed, it had been several years since he had last driven his car. But he had managed the drive to this forgotten old house. He wanted to see it one last time.

The gate was half open and he walked through it, supported by his cane. As he walked up the neglected pathway, his gaze fell on the ancient mango tree which stood like an obedient servant, on one side of the path.

Memories flooded back, as he saw a young boy with sweets in his hands, being chased by at least ten other children. The boy tried to shelter behind the tree but his pursuers had already seen him. Laughing, they surrounded him and took their rightful share of the sweets.

He had been the youngest in the house. With so many children, there had been no dearth of playmates. His childhood had been one filled with happiness.

The house did not have a door. He gingerly stepped inside, only to be greeted by the dust and grime of decades. Years of neglect had reduced the one grand mansion, to a place where even the homeless refused to take shelter. As he moved through each room, he was filled with a deep sense of sorrow, that he could not do anything to prevent the decay.

He saw the patio where his grandfather would sit every morning, reading the newspaper. "Thatha" as he was affectionately known by everyone, was a grand old man, whose word was law in the house. And he had been Thatha's favourite grandson.

He remembered his grandmother or "Pati". She was a pious old lady who brought him up strictly in accordance with the scriptures.

They had all been very happy. The several uncles and aunts and their children; his cousins, with whom he had had such a wonderful childhood.

Then it started. Each brother broke off from the family to a house of his own. Far away from Thatha. And they took away the grandchildren, the light of Thatha and Pati's lives. His father was the last to leave, and when he left with his family, Thatha completely broke down. He did not live long after that. Neither did Pati.

As he reminisced about the past, he came across the framed photo. Surprisingly, no one had stolen it. It was the photo taken on that Diwali night sixty years ago. The house was decked up like a bride, and it drew envious looks from even the white people in the area. It had been his last diwali with the entire family.

A tear rolled down his cheek as he stared at that memory of a time long gone. He noted with sadness the expressions of utter joy on the faces of his cousins and himself. He looked at his beloved parents, his uncles and aunts and his Thatha and Pati.

All were gone now. He had been the youngest and he was the only one remaining. Time had taken its toll. He sat down cross-legged on the ground whit the photo in his hands and rested against the wall. What he wouldn't give to go back to that time, he thought as he closed his eyes for a brief moment. Outside, the wind still whistled, as darkness crept......

They found him 2 days later. He hadn't moved an inch. At last he was with his family again.........

Ganpatipule - A Trip to Remember

The day after exams got over, we were off to Ganpatipule, a delightful beach resort 350 km from Bombay. We were searching for respite from the Bombay heat, and boy did we find it.

Our train was the rather suggestively named Konkan Kanya, which literally means, "babe from the Konkan". She didn't look very suggestive though. In fact the only suggestion I made when I saw her was to go back home. But we decided to brave the dimly lit interiors and the stinky compartment as it was only an 8 hour journey. We settled down and much to our surprise, the train departed at the said time of 11 pm.

The journey was uneventful, unless you count the part where we removed the supports to the middle berth where Amit was sleeping. I discovered that still photography from a moving train is not exactly my forte. I also discovered that waking Salil up from deep sleep is the easiest way to experience excruciating pain. We arrived at Ratnagiri station at 6. 30 in the morning.

We had hired a car to take us to Ganpatipule, which was 45 kms away. We completed the journey in about an hour and reached the Bank of India credit society's holiday home. Accomodation in this place was achieved by means I'd rather not mention. Let is suffice to say we got 2 terrace flats in this place dirt cheap.

The place was excellent. A kilometer from the beach on a slope and an excellent sea view. Breakfast and a bit of cricket and we were going to the temple.

The temple is a famous one, but not being the tourist season, was pretty much empty. We also walked once around the hill housing the temple. Legend has it the hill is shaped like Lord Ganesha. We were enlightened, on that particular walk, by the 3 Civil engineering students, that most of the rock in that area was shale or limestone or lycra. I forget. Not to be outdone, I spent the best part of half an hour, explaining how difficult it is to supply power to that isolated area.

We had lunch at one of those houses there where the owners serve food for a price. The place was recommended to us by one of the priests at the temple. The food there was pathetic and expensive and judjing by the curses we heaped upon the priest, I am sure we have condemned him to a place where he would find far too hot for his liking.

Evening was spent at the beach, where we engaged in a spirited game of football. Sunset, and we were back at the hotel.

That night was one i would remember well because that was the first time I played poker. Actually the desi version called "teen patti". Half an hour and richer by around ten thousand fake rupees, I was hooked. We played till about 5 in the morning, becoming more and more insane as far as the betting was concerned.

Woke up at about 9, and had breakfast. We had a big day ahead of us. We were supposed to visit a place called Marleshwar. It has a waterfall and we were supposed to bathe in the calming flow of water. We reached there and walked up 500 steps to the temple, only to be told that the Waterfall was off limits because of the monsoons. Good law abiding Indians that we are, three of us jumped the barrier and took pictures anyway.

We reached the hotel in the evening, me sitting in the back of the car which was so uncomfortable, I was soon dreaming of Aushwitz. Another game of poker and we were off to bed at 1. By this time it was raining ass hard outside.

Four of us were sharing the room. Salil and Amit got the bed, while me and Kedar were sleeping sleeping on matresses on the floor. It was about 5.15 in the morning that I woke up to detect a certain wetness on my clothes. I was in the process of contemplating a biological malfunction which had not taken place since when i was 4, when I put my foot on the ground to hear a resounding splash.

Lights on, and I saw the room was an inch and a half under water. It was everywhere. It got our luggage and Kedar's cell (his fourth in as many years). The guys in the other room were lucky. Or so it seemed. The water didnt get to the room where they were sleeping. But it got to the room where they had put their luggage.

It was still raining very heavily and we realized our plans of touring ratnagiri that day were dooomed. So we did the next best thing. We packed our bags and left for Ratnagiri station. We got to know that our train, which was supposed to arrive at 10 that night, was delayed till 3 am. Balls to that we said, and got tickets on a passenger train scheduled to depart a couple of hours later.

We managed to get on and with certain negotiations with the ticket checker, we managed to "upgrage" ourselves to sleeper class. 10 hours later (3 of which were spent in playing an insane game of dumb charades), we reached Mumbai, a bit hungry, but safe and sound.

It was 1 am when I rang the doorbell and stepped inside the warmth of my own home. A warm bath and hot dinner awaited.

Au revoir Titi

Dear Titi,

It is with a heavy heart that all of us bid a farewell to you. Your 8 years at Arsenal have been years filled with joys and emotions. That dipping shot against Manchester, the hat-trick against Liverpool, the brilliant goal against Madrid and several other sublime moments have all been etched into our memories forever. Your leave marks the end of the era of the "Invincibles". You were the last great one from that time.

What you have done for us in these years is remarkable. You are the top goal scorer for Arsenal. You have won various honours. But that is not what endears you to us. We love you because you were a leader, motivaor and above all a winner. It is only fitting that you scored a hat-trick in our last match at Highbury. Not only Arsenal but the entire English Premier League will feel your loss. Your prolific form has earned you grudging admiration from the supporters of many other clubs.

The reason you left is an open secret. You have won all the major trophies a footballer could have wanted to achieve over the years. The World cup, The European cup, The Premier league, the FA cup......... everything except the Champions league. You believe that the main reason we have failed to claim that title year after year, is because the Arsenal board does not empty its pockets to buy superstars. It is also true that you did everything possible to help us get so close to that elusive dream of European gold in 2006. We can understand that it is this dream which has prompted you to take this, what seems to us, rather drastic step.

But let it be known that we bid you adieu, not with hatred, but with wistful sadness. We see you leave English soil for the warmth of Spain saddened that we could not hang on to you. Though we would have loved to see you retire as an Arsenal player, we could also never hold you back from realizing your dreams. Because we love you and we wish you to succeed at whatever you set out to accomplish.

However let it also be known that we, as a team will, come out of this dark tunnel. The end of an era is merely the beginning of another one. We shall rebuild and we shall endure. We might not be invincible anymore, but we shall work towards reclaiming that title. As for Europe, is there any fortress that has never yet fallen?

I will not blame anybody for your decision. It was something that was waiting to occur.
At Arsenal you always were and will remain King. Your absence will make us look for someone to take your place but we will surely never see anyone like you ever again.

We will miss your celebrations, we will miss your free kicks, we will miss your dribbling but what we will miss most is the voice of the commentator shouting, "Hennnnnrrrrrrrryyyyyy. One - Nil to Arsenal"

Bonne Chance King.

News you cannot use - 1

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The Pale Blue Dot

I just came across this pic a few minutes ago. Any guesses what that is? The small dot towards which the arrow is pointing? Feast your eyes, because that is our home planet. It is Earth as viewed by Voyager 1 from an astounding distance of 4 billion miles. It looks about as big as a dust mote doesn't it? Yet it is the culmination of all our achievements. It contains everything. Everything we do, everyone we love, everything we have gained and lost, it all comes down to that minisicule number of pixels.

Kind of puts things in persperctive doesn't it? It is both awe inspiring and saddening. This little thing is all we have. Aren't we foolish to assume we are the masters of the universe? Are we so short sighted that we presume in this vast blackness of space, we alone are intelligent? How can we be? As this picture clearly shows, we are just a footnote in the history of the universe.

Our planet, which seems like an oasis in the watelands of the galaxy, is all we have. Yet we continue to abuse it and treat it like shit. What we do everyday seems so pointless. People in power are so possessed by their sense of self importance that they forget it is only a matter of time before they die. Its only a matter of time before we all die. You, me, everybody. Nothing is important. College, Vada-pav, the guitar are all unimportant. Even this blo........... bloody hell, almost let the goth mentality overwhelm me.

I'm alright now folks. I let the morbid thoughts get the better of me. Bloody voices in my head just don't stop sometimes. Besides, how can anything be more important than this blog? The point I wanted to make was we should be humble enough to accept what we have as a precious gift and take care of it. What will the aliens think of us when they finally come here. (Don't shake your heads. You have seen the pic. Think we are alone? No hope.)

I think they will just dismiss us as a collosal waste of semen and kill us off. So much for being one in a million (Refer standard biology texts). Anyway it will probably be all for the best. Let the pic of the pale blue dot inspire you not to fuck with the environment. Turn off that AC you sorry little..............

Shall We tell the president?

Ever since Dr. A.P.J. Abdul Kalam was elected president, people went on harping about how educated he is and a brilliant mind being at the helm of our country's affairs and what not. While I have the utmost respect for the president, and indeed, am inspired by his story of success, I cannot get over the fact that he seems a wee bit naive.

Now, before you guys start insulting me, I would like you to consider this. Have you guys read news reports about the president interacting with school kids? If you have, I'm sure you would have noticed how often he says technology is the answer to all the problems in the country. How to cope with energy shortage? Improve technology. How do we increase food production? Technology. How do we eradicate unemployment? Improve technology. How do we reduce queues at the ration shop? You guessed it. Technology. All of his answers appear to revolve around this 10 letter word. If things were that easy, why don't Phds, engineers and doctors run the show in our country and the world? How can technology make a guy get off his ass and start earn a living? Only willpower can do that. How can technology stop someone from giving out bribes? (Apart from the fact that you can create monitoring devices to catch him in the act.) Sure technology can play an important role in solving our problems, but it is not the only solution.

Also a few days ago, Dr. Kalam mentioned that in 75 years man can establish a colony on mars.

http://sify.com/news_info/news/moonmission/fullstory.php?id=13362476

Why are we out to conquer space when we haven't even managed to tame our own planet? We are planning to inhabit other planets, while at the same time, we are squandering earth's resources. Dr. Kalam has been advocating frivolous persuits like this starting with India's proposed moon mission. what is the need to waste the taxpayer's money on such things which only remain pure status symbols? Even the americans have been ignoring the moon for 2 decades. The money spent on these missions can be better spent in developing the country's infrastucture. At least we will not have to beg on our knees in front of the World Bank.

I would rather see the president address the issues of animal conservation and global warming. Are we such a parasitic species that we drain the Earth of all our resources and move to some other planet just like the freak-ass aliens in Independence Day? I hope not. I want Dr. Kalam to lay his eyes on the ground before he looks at the stars. The nation needs action rather then speculation. What the people of India need, is a good kick where the sun don't shine. Maybe we will start working towards achieveing our dreams then.

P.S. Dr. Kalam is probably the most coolest president ever and I would rather see him as president again rather than some smartass politician.

How Debu got busted

This is the sad story of how Debu's 4 year old hostel life came to an untimely end.


It was the morning after the Roger Waters concert. Yeah that's right. The one I missed. Remind me never to trust the press for a free pass. Anyway, I spent a sleepless night getting jealous of Debu and Dawg and finally hit the sack at five, when all of a sudden the Mortal Kombat ringtone woke me up.

Shit. Someone calling at 8 on a holiday. (number unknown).

Me: Hello (very sleepy)

Caller: Hello. This is Debu's father speaking. Is Debu there?

Shit!!! What do I do? I knew Debu's story and mine should match later or he is screwed. Damn!!! Of all the things to deal with when you were sleepy, this was the most difficult.Thankfully due to years of training with the very best in the business, I instantly realized what I had to do. Stall for time.

Me: Hello........ Hello......... Uncle I can't hear you.......... Battery is low............. (hung up and
switched off the cell)

Call from landline on Dawg's landline, praying Debu is there

Dawg: Hello (sleepy) . Who the fuck is this?

Me: Your grandfather, brothel-born. Is Debu there?

Dawg: Not now yaar, we are sleeping.

Me: You better wake up and give Debu a kick on the ass
and get him on the line.

By now Dawg, also a fellow trainee, realized something was up and woke Debu up

Debu: Hello

Me: Screw the hello. Dude your Dad just called and he is asking about you. where do I tell
him you are? Do I tell him you are at Dawg's place?

Debu: No don't tell him that. Tell him that we came to your house after the concert and left
late. Debu went to the hostel and Dawg went home. Tell him I am in college attending
extra lectures

Me: What? Will he buy that? What if he calls someone at the hostel?

Debu: He would have already called my room partner. I will tell him I had a fight with my
room partner and that I slept in someone else's room.

Man I was impressed. This guy could lie.

Me: Alrite. Be it on your own head then.

I switched on my cell and almost immediately got a phone call from Mr. B

Mr. B: Hello. Rohit. Beta can you tell me where Debu is?

I faithfully conveyed what debu had told me to tell him and Mr. B asked me if I had Dawg's landline number coz his cell was switched off. I gave it to him and knew Debu and Dawg would handle things

A few minutes later, Mr. B called back.

Me : Hello uncle. Talked to Debu?

Mr. B: Yes beta. He is in college. He was attending extra lectures as you said. How come you
are at home?

Me: Uncle uh.........actually............. I got up late. That's why........

Mr. B: That is ok beta. It happens sometimes. I wanted to thank you for helping me find Debu.
He did not call yesterday after the concert and his mother and I were worried. Now we
know he has good friends to take care of him. (How right he was)

I mumbled something and hung up. To say I was feeling guilty as hell, would be putting it mildly.

I don't really know what transpired on Debu's visit home after that close shave, but I got to know that Debu told his dad that he won the tickets to the concert at some quiz in Thakur college (hah!!!) and when Mr. B called Hesti to ask him about the quiz, Hesti told him they didn't win anything. Anyway Mr. B caught him on that and everything came out.

To think Debu would have been home free if he had told his dad that Dawg got the tickets as a birthday present (which was the truth.......... Really........ I swear to God.) He had to go and lie and get caught. Anyways after a lot of noise which shook Dahanu, Mr. B came to the conclusion that staying in a hostel had spoilt Debu beyond measure, and that he would buy a flat in Mumbai asap.

There was also the matter of an inflated phone bill and a certain phone number, to which calls were made at ungodly hours....... but fearing for my life, I will not go into details of that particular episode.

The Debu episode ended with the unforgetable line :

" Tum to haraamkhor ho hi, saath mein tumhaare do dost bhi haraamkhor hain."

Gulp.

Well as Debu learnt, all good things must come to an end.
(As does this rather complex post).

The Usual Bullshit

Well the rains have just about arrived and we see the BMC working around the clock to beat the monsoon deadline for getting all the pending work completed. As usual the BMC has miserably failed to provide even a semblance of relief to harrassed motorists and pedestrians. I still have to traverse even one stretch of road without any potholes and the Municipal Commissioner is feeding us the usual crap about 90% of the work being complete. Whatever happened to the 900 crores or something allotted for the clean up of the Mithi river? Looks like more than one Babu will be getting a beach house in Goa this year.

Speaking of bullshit, I just happened to see spiderman 3 and I've got to admit it sucks. Its not that the visual effects are not amazing, but that is so passe'. I have grown sick and tired of superheroes like spiderman and daredevil. It seems all you have to do to get super powers is stand near a nuclear facility and hope they spray you with nuclear waste or gamma rays or some other equally volatile stuff you and I can't even pronounce, lot alone understand. If life was that simple, we would not have to use the roads at all and no blame would be attached to the BMC. Bring the cool super heroes like Batman and Phantom.

Would someone bother to tell me why were customers at a cybercafe in Kalyan bashed up by Shiv Sainiks because there is a community called "I hate Shiv Sena" on orkut? I mean, if you go about doing stuff like that, you are going to end up making people create more communities like that. Think about it, you are at this cyber cafe talking to your cousin in Dubai where the most interesting thing happening is a shopping fest. You step out and BAM. You are smacked on the face by a guy waving a saffron flag because you were minding your own business. Damn that makes me mad. Its about time the shiv sainiks apologised for their actions (Not a cat in hell's chance of that happenning). Sigh.

Waste of good airtime

Of all the people to invite on this already stupid show, Karan had to go and invite the lady whose actions have revived the kleenex business in India and beyond. Karan could not sink lower than this (hmmmm maybe he can, by inviting Himesh........ egad!!!!). Coming back, we had her royal highness, the queen of soaps, enlightening us about what her serials symbolize and how relevant they are to modern India and of course the usual bitching that is now so passe'. Poor Kjo seems to be getting desperate as he brings in weird guests like Rakhi Sawant, who, sorry to say, lacks any class whatsoever.

Moving on, the other show I kinda dislike is Biggest Loser jeetega. I really appreciate the courage of the 16 incredibly obese people who show off their flab on primetime television. But the show focuses more on the disgust factor than on the effort put in by the contestants. The producers try to cash in on situations like a guy getting hospitalized and someone having an affair with someone else. I mean this is not supposed to be Bigg Boss goddammit. And Sunil Shetty is not helping the TRPs either with his monotonous voice and a face that is so expressionless, he would make a samurai proud. They have killed the show by having eliminations. I mean every eliminated contestant is a loser coz they would be so depressed after they get home, they would reach out for those pastries and cakes and put on 50 pounds more.

Meanwhile poor farmer Kanduswami near Tirunelvelli in Tamil Nadu, who is watching the show on his brand new colour TV gifted by the CM is wondering how the hell does one guy weigh as much as his entire family put together including Laxmi the cow...... Not for long though. The power goes out and the water supply stops. But who cares about the basic needs of life when you have television right?

P.S. Suppose a mysterious death takes place on the set of Biggest Loser. What whould you call the case? "The case of the clogged artery"? "The strange case of the whirlwind workout"? "The case of the stressed-out weighing machine?" .......... Just wondering.

Kerala Part 2

After having spent 4 days in Kerala, I have come to the following conclusions:



1. Keralites love their booze.

2. They seem to be awful drivers.

3. Vegetarian fare comes at a premium.



I took to roaming the streets every evening and one thing that struck me was the amount of men standing in queue outside the half a dozen liquor shops in the area. Man some of those lines were longer than the ones you have to stand in to get your exam hall tickets (fellow Bhavanites know what I'm talking about). No lines even at the ration shops. Booze seems to be way too popular there. If this continues, all the other shops will start converting themselves into booze joints as well.

Ernakulam at 10 pm is like Mumbai at 3 am. The roads are empty and the tendency to speed is pretty strong. The drivers seem to forget that they should restrain themselves during the day, but.......... Even truck drivers seem to think they deserve to be rubbing shoulders with Lewis Hamilton and the rest of the F-1 lot. We went for a backwater tour, and we had to get to the place by car. The driver looked rather like Sreesanth. This dude never seemed to come below 4th gear. He was easily doin 100- 120 km, all the time talking on his cell, driving with one hand. A car overtook him once and he told us the guy didn't know how to drive, and he proceeded to demonstrate how exactly one should overtake a car. I was starting to think my minutes were numbered, when we finally came to a halt. That's one dude I wouldnt want to live within 200 miles of.

Well the thing with Keralites is that they do not like eating out. That means a huge dearth of eateries. And the ones which serve vegetarian food are awful. Awful to someone from Mumbai that is. They serve more of fast food than meals. However I did come across this decent place called "Menaka" in Ernakulam. Good paratha and veg curry and even better choley batture. The taste seemed oddly familiar and I asked the owner where he was from and he said, "hum bambai se aaye hain sahib". Ah my saviour. May his eatery prosper and may Ernakulam succumb to his heavenly Choley batture.

PS. I didn't see any Mallu babes yaar. Fathers don't allow them to go out I guess.........(sigh)

PPS. This is one Mallu you girls out there can't resist ( some guys too. Him for example and him)

PPPS. Sorry Deeps, Kushal and Debu.

Kerala Part 1

The night train from Chennai to Ernakulam Town was comfortable enough. The tickets were confirmed thanks to my uncle, who is a cardiologist for Central Railways (not a man to be trifled with). I attempted to sleep, but my efforts were thwarted by a gentleman in the adjoining berth, whose snores closely resembled the sounds made by a Boeing during take-off. Thankfully he got off around 2, cursing the world for not waking him up, as he had missed his station. God he deserved it……

I managed to sleep till around 5.30 when I heard voices below. A ticket checker had arrived and he was a typical Mallu bloke- huge girth, dark curly hair and a mustache to rival Veerappan’s. My Dad was sleeping on the wrong berth, and mistaking him for someone else, the Mallu said something like,“ alaarrererlalartlalrtlartlatl Palakkad arrrrallataladar” which roughly meant,” You were supposed to get off at Palakkad, what the hell are you still doing here?” Having clarified the situation, my Dad and I carefully avoided looking at each other until he went away.

In the early morning light, Kerala looks breathtakingly beautiful. Water bodies abound and the scenery is stunning. But one thing I resent is the overuse of the term ‘God’s own country.’ You see it everywhere. On roadsides, on rickshaws, schoolbags, buses......... you get the point. But I am not so petty as to let that get in my way. The God’s own train arrived and we descended on to God’s own platform to be greeted by the man running God’s own tea-shop and were just in time to drink a steaming cup of God’s own coffee.

The Meeting At Noon

The meeting was at noon. I was forced to take some time off from my very busy schedule and meet him. I never wanted to. But sometimes you just bow down to destiny. I had had a gut feeling that this day would come soon. I approached his desk and saw that he was busy. There were many like me, waiting their turn. So I just took a seat in the corner of the office and allowed my mind to wander.

The symptoms had begun to appear way back. Sleepless nights, body-ache, they were just a few. The months of revelry had taken their toll it seemed. I had met him once previously. He was dull and listless, full of facts and advice. I vowed to avoid him but found myself at his desk again and again. He was the best they told me. I didn’t want to believe them, but then again, mine was hardly an unbiased view.

I looked up to see that it was my turn. Every nerve in my body told me that bad news was going to follow this meeting. But fate led me on. He was not alone. A distinguished looking lady was seated beside him. As I took my seat, I saw the degrees that adorned his walls. Having a Dr. affixed before your name is not an easy task. He was a specialist in something, had completed a course in something else……. the list went on. He looked me in the eye and told me, “The results of your tests are out”. I didn’t need the look on his face to know that things were not well with me. He and the lady started asking me questions. Simple ones at first, about what I did and so on. Then they started prying and probing. Asked me things I was very uncomfortable with. I broke into a nervous sweat as I realized what I was saying didn’t make the slightest sense to them. I knew I was in a bad way. There were inconsistencies in every reply I gave.

He stopped and looked at my uncomprehending face. He looked at the clock on the wall and then turned his face towards me. He had a sad look on his face. I knew my time and luck had run out. It was time for me to depart. He spoke the words that announced my doom. I knew nothing about the Principles of Communication. The four months of partying and then Journal Submissions had left me with no time to study. It didn’t help that I had attended only two lectures of his in the entire semester. A K.T. in vivas was inevitable. Study leave, here I come…….