This time, the huge break is due to illness, Writer’s block, engineering exams, and a wholesome combination of dull happenings in my life. Apologies for the same.
Up Above The World So High, Like A Diamond(?) In The SKY!
September 6, 2009 at 12:02 am (I Shot The Sheriff!)
Tags: bad, food, foolish, lousy, pathetic, Sky Lounge, terrible
It all began with a harmless, 9-am-in-the-morning-when-all-fucking-trains-are-full MD class.
And ended with?
Let me fill you in with all the gravy. Like white? You wouldn’t if you were in our place.
Rewind back to 2nd September.
Beep on my cell phone. Bow-bow’s message. “V’l hve lunch 2morow at vile after vaity wat say rply”. The least he could’ve done was spell correctly. Anyway, I wat-said-replied in the affirmative. I knew it was to be a messy day. No, I’m not talking about My hair day. 
Let me tell you, class on a holiday morning is like lighting up a terribly boring cracker under someone’s ass just to inform them that it’s Diwali. You’d yawn to death. So there we were, sitting quietly in Vaity’s class, making interracial porno songs for Mandala’s future porn career. (Miracle of the day no. 1 – Left home at 8.45, reached Irla at 9.05) Finally, after 3 hours of drawing highly un-understandably mechanical drawings, we trooped out of the class and into fresh air (or air smelling of urine, that being the toilet).
Ultra-macho guys wanted to do a round of hookah to prove how macho they were. Non-macho guys, me included, just wanted a good meal and some nice “Pani free”. Girls just wanted a place to crack girlie-jokes™ which no one else understood and never really laughed at. Try explaining this to them. No one exactly decided upon a particular place, and we just rushed to grab the best(?) places in the cars. Car No. 1 was hell-bent on going to Happy Singh’s to a nice Punjaban meal, but Car No. 2 was full of the hookah-people. Another piece of information. Hookah-people are those guys(or sometimes girls) who want to smoke some weirdly flavoured (and addictive) gas and boast that they smoked something. Nothing in it really. Just a way to show their testosterone. That is why the wanted to go to the Sky Lounge. On the recommendation of a certain someone who definitely does not wish to be named here, for fear of being publicly slagged.
The map below explains the foolishness of the direction-giver in getting to our final destination.
So, we assumed that as everyone was mentioning Fun Republic in correlation to Sky Lounge, Fun Republic was where we were supposed to go. All gung-ho about getting some good old food into our stomachs, we parked and looked around for Sky Lounge, but in vain. When we left the parking lot, it was onto a side-road. The road being parallel to the one on which SL was, we drove on and on to some God-forsaken place with mice running around in our intestines (translation: Pet mein chuhe daudna, if Mavi is reading this). No one seemed to know where Fun Republic was, let alone SL. Finally, when we found the damn board that announced the place, the 6 of us in the car shouted for joy.
3 floors, and we were begging them to serve only to see that prices were actually SKY-high. Whoever heard of Rs 300 for a bowl of chicken? Anyway, we decided to order 3 dishes in order to satisfy the 9 of us. 2 of them were the same, and the 3rd one was supposed to be different.
After the order had been given and the stomachs quietened for a bit with some vinegar-ed onions, we waited for the food. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited.
And guess what we did after that? No, we didn’t stick our forks into the waiter or the manager who kept hovering around. We waited even more. All this while the vegetarian guys were happily enjoying their starters. We cursed and swore in equal measure. But yet the food wouldn’t arrive. And just when our stomachs had given up home and were packing their hibernation bags and going off to a month long sleep for lack of food, the food arrived. And guess what colour it was.
Just try and guess. That colour which is meant to indicate peace. No, not red as in piece. White.
Every Goddamn thing there was white. The Murgh Masallam and the other dish, the rotis, all white. White. Argh, fucking white. And the dishes were so similar that they were the same. Confusing statement huh?
They Were the same. They tasted the same, they looked the same. It was like the chef, sorry cook (it would be an insult calling him a chef) had made the same dish, added more salt in one of them, and decided the other one needed some pepper, and served both of them as different things. After all the wait. this? It was like eating boiled eggs mashed with cornflour with some salt and chicken pieces. It was really that terrible. No kidding.
After we’d swallowed the terrible fare, we tried to analyze which dish we found to be the best. And it “boiled” down to the rotis. Believe me, rotis! And we thought the meal couldn’t get worse.
After the bill had been paid by the party-givers (thanks to Saumil and Gaurav for being so sporting), we trooped out of the place, taking a blood-oath(kidding ) to never come to the place again. And we warn you too. Bad food, worse service, terrible pricing. Want to risk it? Be my guest. Not literally.
Screaming For Vengeance
August 16, 2009 at 11:32 pm (But I Didn't Shoot The Deputy!)
Tags: football, hate players, some
Okay, I was just watching the United-Birmingham game today, and I decided that enough is enough. No, I was not full after stuffing myself with a chocolate brownie. I had had enough of players who are sneaky and deserve to have their balls chopped off. I have also had enough of players who are absolute scumbags. The list, put out henceforth, is opinion-based only, and the players will be categorized accordingly.
The order in which they appear is not necessarily the order in which I hate them, but oh well…
1. Patrice Evra – Balls chopped off
Just looking at that ugly mug makes me want to puke. I’m not saying he’s a terrible player, just that his balls are dispensable. His work-ethic is good, no doubt. But more often than no, he scythes people off the ground. Then he lifts that detestable face up to the officials, and asks, in what he assumes is an innocent face, but is actually a good imitation of an Indian pig, as to what the matter is with his “good” tackle. Can never be forgiven for countless Stamford Bridge fracas, for which he ended up being punished. And good riddance to bad rubbish there.
2. Stephen Hunt – Balls chopped off
Another personal vendetta for Chelsea fans is to boo Hunt till he sinks into the ground, sorry for what he did. Courtesy is definitely not a word in this c*nt’s dictionary, guilty for smashin Cech’s skull in with his knee, yet even failing to acknowledge that he made a mistake and apologising to Cech. The smile with which he ran off afterwards, without so much as a rap on his knuckles from the FA, deserves to be toothless, hopefully from a nice punch some guy’ll give him. Nasty, nasty player.
3. Michael Brown – Balls chopped off
I doubt many people know this guy, but he’s played for Wigan before, and is now warming the bench at Fulham. Easily the player I hate most in the EPL. Sneaky tackler, ugly brawler, no respect for the opposing players, all add up to a terrible footballer and an even worse professional.
4. Paul Scholes – Total scumbag (On the pitch)
A classy player going forward. Defensively, he’s just as terrible. Terrible here doesn’t mean he can’t play. This guy has played in the league for 20 years, yet he has never learned how to tackle. He just raps most players across the knee, and then thinks he’s not committed a foul. Terrible tackles, and even worse attitude. Don’t know how people actually like him.
5. Ashley Cole – Total scumbag (Off the pitch)
Cheats on Cheryl Cole. Money-hungry. Does it get worse?
6. Javier Mascherano – Total scumbag (On the pitch)
Again, sneaky tackler. Maybe he’s a good thing for Liverpool, but I’ve always hated players like him. Dick up your ass, man.
The Elephant Man’s Alarm Clock
August 10, 2009 at 12:24 am (But I Didn't Shoot The Deputy!)
Tags: build, destroy, young
All my life, I’ve been building and destroying in equal measure. It’s like I thought I was God. Maybe I inspired the Enticer ad. The one with the “I Feel Like God” tag-line. It’s partially due to the fact that I was born with a nearly-silver spoon up my ass. And seeing that it didn’t need anymore shoving, I didn’t feel like I had to work for anything. So I started things anew, or destroyed whatever I had.
Case of point is that I loved playing with cookers when I was younger, and with a lot more flesh amidst my bones. Believe it or not, pressure cookers delighted me. Born mechie, or compulsive noise polluter? Both, probably. Seems I loved banging the two parts of a cooker together to make a huge din, and for hours on end.
Contrary to this, I had a huge collection of Lego blocks, which I don’t have now, due to my mother’s extreme generosity towards some brat. Lego blocks are a kind of puzzle-on-steroids things, for the ill-informed. I loved the stuff, and it was costly stuff TBH. You could build loads of things with it. Summer days would just fly past once you had something in mind to build, and a couple of friends to join in. We’ve made ships, fighter bases, Star Wars-style battle stations and lots of other shit, including some weird combinations of Lego + GI Joes.
As I got older, things never changed. I still liked the same kinds of things. Strategy games, the ones which had building in them rather than destroying. That ensured I loved games like Caesar, Knights and Merchants and Zeus, apart from the standard fare of AOE and AOM. I loved making empires out of my humble beginnings, and I loved order and structural formats. Roller Coaster Tycoon, I loved. Same with Zoo Tycoon. Once in a while, my destructive streak got the better of me and I deleted a part of the track on a roller coaster or a part of the fence in a zoo.
The roller coasters would crash to the ground, killing all the people, or the animals would run riot. I’ve also tried drowning people in ponds and lakes, and it works! You should try it out sometime, it’s fun
I built up my movie and music collection from scratch, with some help from my friends and parents too 
I usually destroy people’s belief in their grammar and spellings by obsessing about each bit.
I love ensuring that people start a habit of reading non-academic books.
Hopefully, I’ve done something decent and worthwhile in my life, which does not include studies.
For all those who know me well, please help me out with this question. On a one-to-one basis, how much do you think I’ve changed from when I was in school, till now?
Mr. Brightside
August 9, 2009 at 12:47 am (Uncategorized)
Tags: haste, impatience, waste
A man walking on the road sees an armoured vehicle go by, with a huge police escort. He observes the hulabaloo for a while, and sees something fluttering towards him. He catches it, and to his intense surprise, it is a Rs 10,000 note. With a shake of his head, he throws the note away and walks along. Noticing a TV on display at the showroom, he goes to have a look at the morning news. To his dismay, he sees the RBI Governor announce that a new note of Rs 10,000 has been introduced to the public. If only he’d believed…
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The admission process to a college is in progress. A boy looks at the ranks to which seats are being allotted. He has a score of 89%. But the score at which the current admissions stand is a whopping 94%. There are 20 seats and 200 students before him, for his preferred field. He has to choose between the train he has to catch back to his hometown, or wait for an improbable seat till very late in the evening, due to technical delays. He chooses to leave on the rain. When he gets back home, he checks out his standing in the admission procedure. There are 10 seats and only 7 people before him. His heart skips a beat…
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Girl lies in bed while looking at her bright mobile screen. She has a smile on her face. Her boyfriend has got excellent results in his exams, and he has offers from many universities. The only problem is that he has an opportunity to go to a very good university away from home. An equally good college right here at home has offered him a seat, but the lure of hostel life appeals to him. She doesn’t want him to give up his dreams, but in jest, she messages, “Are you leaving me?” Seeing his reply as “I might want to”, she switches off her phone, and it remains that way till next evening. When she tries to call him that time, his mom picks up, and in a tearful voice, explains that he’d lost his life in a bike accident. If only she’d had one last time to tell him what he meant to her…
A lot of things we do in life are done hurriedly. Sometimes we think back on them, sometimes we don’t. But whatever you decide, don’t be too hasty or impatient about it. Or you might live to regret it later
What?
August 3, 2009 at 8:52 pm (But I Didn't Shoot The Deputy!)
My dad always taught me to think that India can improve. But the truth is, it cannot. It cannot break free of the numerous shackles that bind it. It cannot break free from the ignorant and crass public that it houses. They think India is a whore which they can use, just by paying money in the form of tax, only for the pimps to get their money-grubbing paws onto the money and ravage the whore even further. Well, it’s true. I’ve known this country for 19 years, and I still do not know all of it. I love the country, but I hate the people. I even hate myself for not trying hard enough to help India. Because I know I’m going to leave the country and go away forever. Atleast I get rid of one more burden on this beautiful country, which is ruled and inhabited by selfish, fucking bastards.
The India Shining with which we delude ourselves, is sinking into a self-made pit of despair and nothingness. Or am I?
