I read the following some days ago:

World wide survey was conducted by the UN. The only question asked was:
"Would you please give your honest opinion about solutions to the food shortage in the rest of the world?"

The survey was a huge failure.
In Africa they didn't know what 'food' meant,
In India they didn't know what 'honest' meant.
In Europe they didn't know what 'shortage' meant.
In China they didn't know what 'opinion' meant.
In the Middle East they didn't know what 'solution' meant,
In South America they didn't know what 'please' meant And
in the USA they didn't know what 'the rest of the world' meant !!!

Sweet Bicycle O' Mine

Bicycles are the major way of commuting in almost every institute for students these days. Among them, save some lucky dogs who have the pleasure of sitting comfi on the seats of bikes and similar two (some even have four) wheelers. Removing such people, the whole student community can be divided into some categories. First category, nice people, (why nice?), I am in this category. They have the bicycles in working condition. If you are bicycle less, you either have to look for the insti buses, or you have to choose a "lucky" guy for sitting on his bicycle's carrier (I don't know who is "luckier", you or he, as the carrier is made up of iron and your...well you know it). These two constitute the 2nd and 3rd categories, respectively. Or if you are one of those health conscious beings (not too much time conscious though) you will like to go on foot, but these are in minority. So, coming to my bicycle. Why is it special? It takes revenge. "Revenge"? Yeah! "Of what?”. Of me giving my bicycle to the people of yet another category, the fourth category, continuously strengthening in number. These are the ones who have their bicycles punctured, lost or its key lost, etc, etc. Guess my bicycle doesn't like anyone else except me climbing on it. The condition becomes more pathetic when you are surrounded by friends who belong to the last three categories.

The kind of revenge it takes might appear to be funny to you, but it gets onto my nerves at times. Firstly, the chain. The chain of my bicycle is like a magician's knot which loosens the moment it appears to be almost undoable. And the interesting part of it is, it loosens only when I'm riding the bicycle, and not when anyone else is riding it. Can you believe it? The irritation becomes higher, if someone comes and says "Great bicycle, da! It's so smooth and flawless!” Here, some of our friends who are mathematically inclined must feel the urge to say that "You idiot! It is ought to happen. You are the one riding the bicycle most of the time. So, the probability of its chain loosening with you riding it is higher than anyone else." At this point, Einsteins, I would like to clear the doubt, that I'm not the one riding MY bicycle most of the time; it's the people of fourth category. Anyways, once I was the "lucky" guy to give ride to this friend of mine. As soon as I turned my bicycle after dropping him, the spokes of the rear tire bent while some of them simply broke off as if they wanted to say "You are lucky indeed".

These are just little revenges which I almost became habitual of, until my bicycle showed its ultimate anger. After coming from mess, having our afternoon coffee, I and Torpi were on the way back to hostel on bicycles. Torpi (the devil) asked me to show some guts and called me for a bicycle race. Initially I said "childish" and soon after I became "childish". I paddled harder, and soon gained enormous speed. Torpi's poor bicycle couldn't catch up. Just when I was about to clear the hypothetical line which would have marked my victory, something happened which I can't explain as it involves some hi funda mechanical failure that can happen to any bicycle, but for the sake of our understanding, I will say it acted as an instantaneous brake for the front wheel and I did a wheelie. Now, I don't think I need to explain to you what happened to me next. They say that I was air borne for like some, eternity. I broke my pair of glasses; thankfully none went into my eyes. What can be regarded as a perfect timing, is, we had our CY102 quiz the next day. No, it wasn't that bad, the injuries, that I had to skip the quiz, but the aftermaths are still audible and visible. I have a "talking elbow" which can make sound voluntarily and some bruises at such "strategic" places that you will wonder how he got that (like a bruise on the back side of other elbow). Some of you who have read about my bicycle accident in previous blogpost "My experience with a Jyotishi" can now say "Hey Sid, where's your helmet, huh? Forgot you are riding a bicycle?” I agree. I don't share very peaceful relationships with my bicycles.
I want to say to my bicycle if it is reading this "Hey, it’s me who takes care of your oiling, dusting and other routine stuff. Then why me? Why not some other guy riding you?”

Just when I was writing this post, Ravi (my friend and another fourth category guy) came to my door. He was to return the bicycle keys, I suppose, but with utter grief on his face, he said, "Sorry da. I lost your bicycle". I was like "HUH?” I was thinking that my first category status is finally gone. I almost said "I'll miss you" to my bicycle when Ravi said "Got you! Your bicycle is near Gurunath. I was too forgetful to remember that I borrowed your bicycle and guess what (sheepish smile reigns), I came on foot". What an idiot! I said, playing with my emotions.

"Well, the revenge is still not complete may be" I said to myself and completed the post.

मधुशाला

Amitabh Bachchan is no doubt a god-axx figure in Indian cinema, whereas "Madhushala", a poem by Late. Mr. Harivansh Rai Bachchan is something that I liked ever since I read it. This post has both the poem and the legend himself reciting it as a rememberance of his father. Below are some lines of "Madhushala" being recited here :

अपने युग में सबको अनुपम ज्ञात हुई अपनी हाला ,
अपने युग मे सबको अद्भुत ज्ञात हुआ अपना प्याला,
फ़िर भी वृद्धो से जब पुछा एक सम उत्तर पाया,
मधुशाला अब ना रहे वह पीने , अब ना रही वह मधुशाला ।

एक बरस में, एक बार ही जगती होली की ज्वाला,
एक बार ही लगती बाज़ी, जलती दीपों की माला,
दुनियावालों, किन्तु, किसी दिन आ मदिरालय में देखो,
दिन को होली, रात दिवाली, रोज़ मनाती मधुशाला।

मुसलमान औ' हिन्दू है दो, एक, मगर, उनका प्याला,
एक, मगर, उनका मदिरालय, एक, मगर, उनकी हाला,
दोनों रहते एक न जब तक मस्जिद मन्दिर में जाते,
बैर बढ़ाते मस्जिद मन्दिर मेल कराती मधुशाला!

यम आयेगा साकी बनकर साथ लिए काली हाला,
पी न होश में फिर आएगा सुरा-विसुध यह मतवाला,
यह अंितम बेहोशी, अंतिम साकी, अंतिम प्याला है,
पथिक, प्यार से पीना इसको फिर न मिलेगी मधुशाला ।

मेरे अधरों पर हो अंितम वस्तु न तुलसीदल प्याला
मेरी जीव्हा पर हो अंतिम वस्तु न गंगाजल हाला,
मेरे शव के पीछे चलने वालों याद इसे रखना
राम नाम है सत्य न कहना, कहना सच्ची मधुशाला।

मेरे शव पर वह रोये, हो जिसके आंसू में हाला
आह भरे वो, जो हो सुरिभत मदिरा पी कर मतवाला,
दे मुझको वो कान्धा जिनके पग मद डगमग होते हों
और जलूं उस ठौर जहां पर कभी रही हो मधुशाला।

और चिता पर जाये उंढेला पत्र न घ्रित का, पर प्याला
कंठ बंधे अंगूर लता में मध्य न जल हो, पर हाला,
प्राण प्रिये यदि श्राध करो तुम मेरा तो ऐसे करना
पीने वालांे को बुलवा कऱ खुलवा देना मधुशाला ।

(some more lines that I like but are not there in the video :)

कभी न सुन पड़ता, 'इसने, हा, छू दी मेरी हाला',
कभी न कोई कहता, 'उसने जूठा कर डाला प्याला',
सभी जाति के लोग यहाँ पर साथ बैठकर पीते हैं,
सौ सुधारकों का करती है काम अकेले मधुशाला।

मदिरालय जाने को घर से चलता है पीनेवला,
'किस पथ से जाऊँ?' असमंजस में है वह भोलाभाला,
अलग-अलग पथ बतलाते सब पर मैं यह बतलाता हूँ -
'राह पकड़ तू एक चला चल, पा जाएगा मधुशाला।'

धर्मग्रन्थ सब जला चुकी है, जिसके अंतर की ज्वाला,
मंदिर, मसजिद, गिरिजे, सब को तोड़ चुका जो मतवाला,
पंडित, मोमिन, पादिरयों के फंदों को जो काट चुका,
कर सकती है आज उसी का स्वागत मेरी मधुशाला।

Jab We NIFTed

“Chalo be, aaj kahi baahar chalte hai!” ecstatic Chandy said.

“Where will you go, yaar? Let’s sit in our rooms, watch some movie and sleep peacefully.” I said.

Chandy: “You will always talk of rotting here. Today is, 31st December, the last day of the year if you forgot, goddamit!! Learn to enjoy your life, for god's sake. And dare not speak of sleeping before at least 5 tonight.”

Torpi, the silent observer till now, spoke up: “He has got a point there, Major boy! It's been a long time we have been out of these walls of IIT.”

Chandy (still infuriated): “Abbey Torpi, you only tell some place, we two will go. Leave this room-sick, comp-sick...”

I had enough of it by this time: “OK! OK!, I will come.”

Well, this is the disadvantage with having these two as friends; they form a group so instantaneously, as if two separated drops of mercury are reuniting. And me? I am left as a drop of oil in water. Anyways, so there are we three, me i.e. Major, Chandy and Torpi, a group of friends studying in IIT Madras. By the way, many of you must be knowing that we have a tradition of keeping nick names,or shall I say "names" in our insti. The others, I should tell that we have a tradition of keeping nick names. Ahh, I can be stupid sometimes. Now coming back to the conversation:

Torpi: “What about beach, guys? Let's see how do the last waves of 2007 look like splashing on the shore? Cool breeze will make it even more scenic.”

Chandy: “No, No, No! Not a beach. What's there in a beach, yaar? We have been to the beach several times, anyways.”

Me: “What about Ascendas? We will have some good food. Bid mess food a goodbye for this year?”

Chandy: “Sure, that’s nice, only if you are putting us a treat. Guess what? (With a sheepish smile) I don't even have a Rs. 5 coin in my pocket.”

(Chandy has his own ways of extracting treat out of someone. Last time he almost convinced another guy to put a treat for a result he got in 10th class!)

Me: “Pack then. I can hardly afford our bill with current balance.”

Chandy: “Saale Baniye! I knew it! Think of treat and this guy wants to fly off to some other planet.”

Me: “As if you give a treat every weekend!”

Chandy: “Why? Forgot the coffee you drank yesterday at Gurunath? I payed for it.”

Torpi: “Ohh you fighting cats! Will you please SHUT UP and let me think? ”

Silence prevailed. Torpi always wears the thinking cap in such matters. We are abiding to follow his decision, whether wrong, or totally wrong.

Torpi (speaking with conviction): “NIFT!”

Chandy (adjusting his spects): “NIFT? What NIFT?”

Torpi: “National Institute of Fashion Technology.”

Chandy: “FASHION? NATIONAL? Wow! You understand that dumb boy, eh? (Winking at me) My eyes are sore of “crow-watching” in here.”

Me (ignoring him): “Where is it?”

Torpi: “Just a few steps from Ascendas. Should be no more than 25 minutes walk from here”

Me: “Let’s go then!”

I don't know about the other two, but I myself have hardly been once or twice to even pseudo “pseud-puttable” distance near the Girls hostel in our campus. I guess, neither had they, because of the zeal and vigor with which they were, I would say, sprinting. High time, I feel, for the Govt. of India to consider about the reservation of the fairer sex in IIT's, I bet there won’t be much protest or may be none at all. Anyways, politics apart, we were at our destination in merely 15 minutes!

Chandy: “Are you sure this is the one?”

Torpi: “What you can't read the board even with four eyes? It says “National Institute of Fash..”. ”

Chandy: “Yeah! Yeah! Doesn’t look like one, though. ”

I agreed. No security. No proper lights, except the one that was sort of blinking desperately trying to seek our attention. We entered the premises. We were strolling, looking for signs of human form, if any.

Chandy: “Why do they have to keep another gate inside the premises, huh?” (Lazily kicking a large gate with crackling sound)

Torpi: “Noooooo. That’s the... ”

(But words were as if muffled or rather choked in his throat. NOW you know Chandy can be sometimes too excited to read a board saying
"Girls hostel. Outsiders trespassing without permission shall be dealt with severe punishment.")

Chandy and I stood with our jaws dropped as if we were posing for a horror movie. A girl combing her hair looked at us, and made us feel we were aliens from Mars. Before we could come to our senses, which were lost partially because of the board and rest from the beauty, she ran inside the hostel, calling for the warden. Chandy still stood there, stoned.

Torpi: “Run you jackasses, are you waiting for some royal welcome?”

We ran as if we would surpass the limit "c" that night. But the shock left us with infinite "m" tied to our legs.

Lady Warden: “poru, eppo pogathaa! mun perum engeva !" (Wait, don't run! come here, you three!)

We stopped as three obedient dogs. She came near us, with her large frame and horrifying demeanor. We were breathless, speechless, bloodless, and now we would soon be lifeless.

Lady Warden: “Security! Security! I told them not to leave the security desk!”

Torpi (he somehow blurted): “See ma'am we came searching for our friend Ravi. We didn't read that board about the girls... ”

Warden: “Shut up! I know you people. You drink and come to the girls hostel on night of 31st dec. How dare you? Let me call the police and then you will understand."

Me: “Nothing like that ma'am. We are students of IITM, Siddharth, Harshit and Shravan. We came here to see a friend of ours. I believe we came to the wrong address. ” (Yeah, I know I sound pathetic, but I was indeed pathetic that time.)

Warden: “IITaaaa? (“IIT” word used unintentionally by me, acted as a softener for her tone, I guess) Why did you run then? ”

Torpi (encouraged by this and trying to highlight the nerd T-Shirt of "Electrical Engineering Department, IITM" by pretending to swat an insect) - “…that ma'am, we were unable to think at that time, and after seeing that board we were really scared.”

Warden: “I see. You can leave now. By the way, what address did you tell of your friend Ravi? ”

Chandy (at last he spoke): “We will meet him tomorrow ma'am. It’s late anyways. Happy New Year. ” (Was it Chandy speaking of being late at 9 pm?)

Warden: “Ohh. Wish you the same.”

“Abbey, kidhar se aa rahe ho be?” Ravi asked, as we met in front of Ascendas while running.

Torpi (with glitter in his eyes): “NIFT. You also go da. "Nice" place."

We managed a smile as we saw Ravi going towards NIFT.

PS: And it's true.

My experience with a Jyotishi

While strolling in Big Bazzar in Mumbai I read a board saying "Have your hand read by an astrologer for free".
"for free", eh? yeah, that's one of the offers they were making on their anniversary. Had it been some other week (guess what, they were celebrating the whole week as their anniversary, isn't that something nice for the customers) I like any youngster would have given a who-gives-a-damn look, but the "for free" in bolds caught the eye of my wallet.

I proceeded towards the astrologer who was in his mid 40's wearing an almost unsaid dress code consisting of a saffron turban and a white kurta-payajama with a long red tilak on the forehead. I can tell you that he was the one who was giving the who-gives-a-damn look to the coming junta awaiting for their hands to be read, yeah "for free". I sat infront of him after the person sitting before me stood up rather in a state of euphoria, as he was told by the jyotishi that he will be spending his major part of life in foreign. So, I sat in front of him. He gave a long look to my face. Was he a face reader or a hand reader ?

Jyotishi :"..You, a student?.."

Me : "..Yes.."
(well, hell I am a student, I do not look old enough to be doing a job)

Jyotishi (closing his eyes for some moments after looking into my hand) :"..You have recently met with a real fatal accident...It could have taken away your life.."

Me : "..huh.."
( I must say I was startled. I met with this accident some 5-6 years ago, boy oh boy that accident is still clear in my mind although they say you are in a state of post-accident trauma after such an incident and you don't remember what happened to you or rather, you don't want to remember. I was going on my bicycle, (dare you say "ahh, bicycle accident only!". I mean, if you said that you ought to be in my place at that time). While trying to save myself being hit by a vehicle I lost balance, fell flat and instead hit my forehead with a concrete corner. There was blood, I mean, a lot of it. I was stitched like a torn bag, with as many as 12 stitches and that left a scar on my left forehead. Doctors said that was a major accident which could have turned fatal if time was not on our side.)

Jyotishi (after looking at my gaze turning to a fade) : "..You will have a lot of money.."

Me : "..ohh.."
(Money honey, is the only saught after things these days. If you have money, you have, guessed right, everything. It engrossed me.)

Jyotishi : "...And about your studies, you don't get rewarded according to your hardwork. You no doubt kill your sleep, do everything, but you don't get desired results..."

Me : "...ohh yes..."
(BINGO, that's what the aching sad story of a student is. That's where if you hit, it hurts the most. Whatever, I believed what he said now. I ruined my sleep, I ate less and drank more (for obvious reasons), I woke up till 3 in morning, or may be afterall, I didn't get sleep because of my exams. And all that in vain. I thought of getting atleast 9 gpa and ended up with a mere 6! Can you believe it? I don't remember when did I last score as my expectation. Oh hell, I am having a bad memory now!)

Jyotishi : "...this is because of the Rahu sitting in Shani. He's doing everything..."

Me ( I wanted to say "No, its me who is doing Everything. I am sure Rahu doesn't have any idea about Chebyshev Inequality, or Hilbert transformation or RISC-CISC or for that matter anything related to 3rd sem engineering courses" but I managed to say ): ".. I see.."

Jyotishi : "..See if you want to convert your efforts into results, there is a way. I can give you a shrine to wear. It will turn your results upside down.."

Me : "..Yeah sure.." (I screamed "give it to me" in my mind, visualizing 6 turning literlly upside down to 9)

Jyotishi : "..Here you are. Merely Rs. 500/=.."

Me (AHA.. there you are) : "..Rs. 500/= !!. I don't have that much amount right now.. "

Jyotishi : "..Don't worry son. Here, have my card. Do turn up in my office anytime in the morning. Ok?.."

Me : "..Sure I Will!!.." ( professional publicity, huh?)

I came thinking about the whole conversation in my mind.
"fatal accident", that left a scar on my left forehead. A scar!! Hell Yes, that's why he would have guessed as a result of a long gaze into my face! And, that money thing? I am sure, that was just to get me engaged in his talk. "Studing not rewarded". Studies or any endeavour for that matter, human mind is made in such a way that it is never complacent of what it achieves and often falls for the greener grass on the other side. Some of us might think they are complacent but the thing is human mind works on the principle of "No one can eat just one" (sorry for plagiarism) and thus wants more. Nothing is ever enough. Well that concludes my experience with a jyotishi, with a new zeal to achieve my goals with or without Rahu on my side.

PS : the events in this post are more real than the facts in it themselves.

PPS : Thank you for leaving your comments ;)

Don't Quit

I liked the following lines ever since I read them. But here's where I also encounter a subtle but a major difference between liking and following. In my point of view the below lines are the only ones that filters a winner out of losers.
The poem also emphasizes the power of positive thinking.

Don’t Quit:

When things go wrong; as they sometimes will,
When the road you’re trudging seems all uphill,
When the funds are low and the debts are high,
And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit,
Rest if you must, but don’t you quit.

Life is queer with its twists and turns,
As everyone of us sometimes learns,
And many a fellow turns about,
When he might have won had he stuck it out.
Don’t give up though the pace seems slow,
You might succeed with another blow,

Often the goal is nearer than,
It seems to a faint and faltering man;
Often the struggler has given up,
When he might have captured the victor’s cup;
And he learned too late when the night came down,
How close he was to the golden crown.

Success is failure turned inside out,
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt,
And you never can tell how close you are,
It may be near when it seems afar;
So stick to the fight when you’re hardest hit,
It’s when things seem the worst that you must not quit.

Author Unknown

The Eyes of a Lover...

He treasured her with his whole heart..
ah, the beauty she was, one of the nature's fine art..
the voice was as if the cuckoo's singing..
it ran through his ears as if honey intermingling..
her hair were like silken robings..
she looked good to him in any clothings..

But, as if a nature's way to keep her from her own evil eye..
alas, the beautiful eyes..couldn't eye..
she asked him why do you love me..I can't be your mate..
He smiled and said that's all right dear..lets go for a date..
completely in love with her without any slight..
He used to say..darling..can't you see the world from my sight..

then one day he was happier than ever..
as doctor told his love could now see the world forever..
the glitter in her eyes added to her beauty..
she ran to his house to tell him as her duty..
ohhh..but was it a bitter truth or a nightmare..
her lover was what she was, a vision impaired..

"No, I can't marry you!" were her final words..
she ran out of the door, without glancing backwards..
the lover felt as if his pulse was slowing..
couldn't utter a word but amidst tears flowing..
"Be happy my dear and cherish the colorful around..
bother not, if sometimes those eyes water abound..
it is in their nature to show up and not to cover..
after all they are eyes of an unfortunate lover.."

- By- U guessed it right!