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Headlights!!!

Me and Illa were out on another all-guys evening out(as usual!)... Vasco seems surprised these days to see the same set of guys walking around since three years and counting!! Well, we cant help it. No chick is ready to hang out(or talk) with the leftists of AH-5. Maybe I release some kind of anti-female hormone which repels them. Or maybe we are the kind of people who form the rear of the crowd where girls prefer not to be.. Whatever may the matter be, we went to our favourite eatery and gorged on north-Indian delicacies fried in pure desi ghee. Afterwards, we went to yet another restaurant and ate yet another kind of goodie called the Onion Uttapa. My glass had a great big insect bathing inside and so, Illa's glass had to take care of two thirsty guys. Again, two guys drinking out of the same glass in a public place had to look suspicious. The elderly lady on the next table kept wondering what on earth has this world come to.. The manager looked daggers at us. It was just when

Bits in pieces

So we are working on our project, filing our hearts out, buying piece after piece of scrap and then, BAM!! The workshop people tell us there aint any way we are gonna be allowed to use the most important machine... The one, the only, the VMC.. Apparently, she's damn expensive, incredibly user-friendly and totally out of reach for those who really wish to make some good use out of it. Its kept there as a mere show-piece, to attract a rep that our college has the best of labs and tons of research scope. Although it would be better if they replaced the shaper. In the words of one of the instructors, "it may fall over if its used". And to add fuel to the fire, for every screw-driver or pliers that we borrow, we have to convince them that we arent gonna sell them outside after we are done. Measuring tapes and nut-bolts are still alien to this workshop! They just forget one little thing... Research aint gonna be seduced by sexy machines or big names. It has to come from us, t

Satanic curses..

To love someone and to be loved in return is a luck gifted to few.. It may exist in various forms. The love between parents and child, between husband and wife, amongst siblings, friends, between teacher and student, master and pet, so forth and so on. Then again, despair always goes hand in hand with love. If you are in love, you are bound to fall in despair one time or another. Either because your loved one is in pain or because the loved one has given you pain. Maybe the distances are too long… Maybe the connection isn’t that strong… Or maybe it’s you are just not good enough to deserve them… Either way, it hurts like hell. And then you begin to question yourself- what was it that went wrong? Was it me? Was it her? Am I unlovable? What was it that I lacked? Satan would serenade the bearers of grief if only he knew what it felt to lose out on your love. Yet, you try to make sure that the person whom you loved lives a life of harmony. Time goes on… Life moves ahead… And then, at

Red star, blue yonder...

Its the end of rainy season. Bugs and beetles take their leave while my laundry is swaying happily on the rope. A clear blue sky and a hot sun meant that this day was meant to be spent out. We set out, the three of us, Me, Asati and Obbishek.  After a hefty lunch and countless rejections later, we got on board with a jolly fellow in his car. Standing still in the highway with our thumbs pointing upwards has taught us a great lesson. The size of a man's heart in inversely proportional to the size of his car. People in expensive cars and SUV's never give a damn to us charming fellas on the highway. Its only those who have smaller cars(not sedans, mind you!) or pick-up trucks that bother to stop and drop. Needless to say that they are also quite chatty and cheerful. One person even told us what not to do on a certain beach if we arent sober ;) Anyhow, we hopped off the car, climbed on the bus, stuck our heads out of the window and jumped off an hour later. It was a walk from the

Beg your pardon, Mademoiselle...

Define irony. In my opinion, irony it is when the only Hindi films nominated in top 5 for the Oscars are those which depict India (Mumbai in particular) in shambles. Yesterday, I watched one such movie- Salaam Bombay. One of the few hindi movies with imdb rating of 7.9. Mira Nair wields magic in her work. It has powerhouse performances by Nana, Chanda, Raghubir etc. Drugs, prostitution, human trafficking and child labor seem to be the backbone of the "tinsel town". All this is too damn depressing, and yet, true. A guy is dead from drug overdose, a kid is forced to work all day to earn Rs 10, a girl is abducted from her village and brought to Mumbai to be sold just because she still has her "flower", and a man forces his own wife to sleep with other men for money. For the first time in my life, I am ashamed for being a man. Men, for whom women were always an object of desire. Mughals had polygamy, we have extra-marital affairs, rape, prostitution and other sexual a

Joe Average..

This is the story of a guy called Joe Average. The experiences he had, the life that he led and the things he wanted for himself..... It all starts from the word 'anger'. Joe had a terrible temper. He would start seeing red even if a fly buzzed past his ears. An absolute paranoid who would go about hitting those who didnt do as he pleased. Then one day, one of his victims hit back. Joe was taken aback. He realised that he no longer had control over other people's mind and started shrinking in his own mind. Years passed like this and Joe gained a little more control over his angry self. Joe's family was very normal. His father was kinda lenient towards discipline while his mother was strict as most mothers are. He was hardly ever allowed to wear what he liked best and chocolates were a thing he always craved for. Joe's friends never really took him seriously and his parents were too busy to notice that he was in dire need of attention. Oh yeah! Joe had a long bo

What if????

Tests are on.. Long hard hours of doing absolutely nothing except staring at α, β, µ, Ø, Ƞ and load of other crap.. our teachers are so very generous that not one of them bothered to share their lecture slides, leaving us to rot in our own mess.. Finally, one guy had d brain to click snaps of his notes and circulate them!! Word spreads.. Click, enter, copy and paste... Wow!! I just have a record of all the lectures that ever happened.. Time to cheer a bit.. A plate of noodles and glass of bournvita later, m again cursing the abovee-mentioned guy for circulating his notes.. Why the hell did he share them? Now, everyone's gonna study them and they will raise the average while I'll be left in a dilemma over whether to study or to binge on.. Damn you mechies! What makes you study so much so that the nose never leaves the cleavage(of the book, dirty minds!).. Its hard enough to attend lectures without dozing off, bear the brunt of a frustrated man who looks like he can eat you up f

beauty beauty everywhere.. Not a place to blink!!

Rainy season... little droplets of acidic water falling every moment from the sky in dollops.. Kind of weather that makes you snuggle in your bed 'til lunchtime.. But no ! I suddenly developed this nasty habbit of going to morning classes and getting myself insulted publicly... The pangs of academia !! Anyways, I was talking about the rains... This is the time when you wake up, stand in front of the window(in appropriate apparel) and witness the creation of miracles, right in front of your eyes! Its a green heaven out there... God resides in the details!! The towers are standing guard over the harbingers of joy marching throught the air, marking the end of an era and the beginning of another... Every bug is dancing drunkenly, welcoming monsoons... Birds are chirping merrily as if happy and contented with the gods, bees are humming impatiently as if they cant wait to pounce on the nector... And I m wondering what would possibly be the best word to describe the scenery.. Somethin

Meek week!!

Been a hectic week all around, what with the elections and all.. Taught me a lot of things too.. Firstly, one should never sit at a place where the teacher can easily spot you, especially if you arent having a notebook, a pen and a nagging friend by your side.. In such a situation, the teacher will come to you, ask you to solve the problem on the board, insult you heartily and will proceed to the rest of the class to explain how badly the placements are getting because people like 'moi' are making it to the "reputed" college like these!! And it doesnt stop there.. The satanic teacher reappears, asks you whether you are really a BITSian, your score, your branch, sighs heavily and checks you out from top to bottom, not unlike a gay tailor, not caring to be subtle at all... It was hurtful!! This is what the girls might feel like when Pervy Pervertson raises his gaze :P Oh!! And my dear friends(Philu Khan, Bo$$ and Sanam Soliye, in particular) have been busy composing

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