Emosanal Attyachar. Patna ke Presley's

Gawd. Gawd. Gawd. I accept defeat on behalf of Tapti Drams. It's more country, more cheap and entertaining like Laloo himself. Bolo countriyaapa bhagwaan ki....

All in a Winter Vacation's Work

1. 100 push-ups a day comprising of 50 in the morning and 50 in the evening. 50 was again broken into 27+15+8 where + means a gap of 2 mins. The Ghajini trailers had their effect.
   
2. It seems strangely satisfying to dedicate every vacation to at least one thing and this time it was spirituality. After a study of the Bhagwad Gita through the looking glass of Paramahansa Yogananda, I can humbly say that till date, I haven't encountered any piece of literature which can even dream of matching the quality and style of the author's writing. Besides, almost all of my philosophical doubts have been removed in the first volume itself, which is spread across 570 pages. The second volume is scheduled for the next vacation.
3. Every ear I could get my mouth close to, I shouted loudly about a trip to Goa from Bangalore via road. Essentially, it meant a long drive amidst the best of nature to the most sought after place in the country with a halt at a beautiful farm house. Thanks to the ban on beach parties in the state, the trip was cancelled and I came to know about it a day after booking a flight to Bangalore. So the Dil Chahta Hai song ended up in aamdani athanni kharcha rupaiya when Kingfisher charged 750 bugs for rescheduling.
4. As I reached Patna, the whole city was under construction, with dust and elephantine concrete blocks covering the whole city and flyovers in the making where only dust is flying over. The pristine air of IIT campus has made my lungs so delicate that the place where I was born and have been sucking air for so many years was appearing a bit high on the number of suspended particulate matter. With a hope of getting some fresh air at home, my nostrils got protection from handkerchief on the way. Lo! The whole house is being renovated, with walls being painted, a few rooms being recreated & marbleized and the top floor reconstructed. Given the fact that the shreeganesh of the house had started when I was born and it is exactly as old as me, I asked pa no questions to avoid any surgery on me as well (pa is a doctor!).
5. I cooked two chapatis which were almost round and 80% puffed. They were so delicious that my mouth still gets wet on thinking about them.
6. The amount of street-charity got increased from all the coins in my wallet to a 10-rupee note. It all began with the stipend from internship from which 3K went to Bihar Flood Relief Funds and I plan to continue spending around 10% of the cash I earn in charity. The best part in doing this is that people around me find the initial barrier broken and lend their helping hands too.
7. The answer to a question was found. On one hand, the Bihari khoon was boiling to become an IAS and on the other was the corporate lure. As far as interest is concerned, both of them ignite huge passion to make a difference. Based on the impact I can create in the society through both the paths, the decision has been taken. There were interesting observations on the way, though. The amount of respect an IAS has is way more than one can get through the corporate sector. Though a Narayana Murthy can say otherwise. The cash pool of B-world is ready to provide a recession salary to a conFUSED bijli mistry like me which is more than that of the seniormost civil servants. Though the babus having a life under the table would have a different story in their black briefcase. One of the people I consulted showed me statistics that people of Bihar form the majority of IAS officers and went on to show published statistics that Kayasthas (I can't believe people still belive in caste system) form the majority of Bihari babus. Hence, he says, I have a really good chance. During any conversation, there are arguments which give you an instant impulse to counter them. And then there are those you don't even feel like farting on them. Anyway, perhaps the most inspiring babu is T N Sheshan and anyone who has seen or heard him is not going to meet a more powerful personality in her/his life. It is because of people like him who have completely changed the organization they laid their hands on that the system of civil services has its dignity and charm. No wonder it's so difficult to choose between Narayana Murthy and (Al)Sheshan to help determine the course the river of one's life takes. Those who helped me take this decision, I owe you. All those who predicted that the Bihari khoon will definitely go for IAS, sorry to disappoint you. But none of you knew that I was from Bihar until I told you and even now the claims of knowing the great Bihari dream don't seem to be too reliable.
   

Train-Prem: From Chhuk-chhuk to Dhak-dhak

Dec 9, 2008

40 hours in train begin the moment the railway staff delivers a fluffy pillow, two off-white bed-sheets and a warm blanket at the berth. And then 8 hours pass by. If you have had a night-out as is the case with me, 12 hours pass by.

The two idlis of the Chennai Central Sarvana Bhavan have long been assimilated and the rats have started playing baseball in my stomach. Tan tanan, it's time to fish through the reserved bank of six idlis packed by Sarvana again. My rumourpedia says that there is a particular frequency at which if the human body is shaken, it goes into deep sleep. With no beautiful girl around, the frequency of train's vibration matches my crash-frequency.

Good morning, 24 hours have got down at the earlier stations and only 16 more to go. A very good morning, there's a cute 18+ lying on the lower berth. Her parents are asleep on the two middle berths. I am put up on the upper berth opposite the girl's column of berths. The gentleman that I am, instead of looking at her unawares, I start thinking of a plan to catch her along with her parents when they wake up. This is an apt time for Wodehouse, I guess (guess because I haven't read Wodehouse yet; you can bump me now). After an hour of Wodehouse laughs which manifest through changes in exhaling patterns (from ha-ha to hee-hee to huh-huh), I look through the corner of my eyes to check the girl. There she is - all awake, staring at me. It's quite easy for her in that position, lying flat on the back and looking almost straight up. For me, it's a bit of twisting my neck but as they say – no pain no gain.

She is from Bhubaneshwar but her accent has a tint of Delhi as well and one can't classify her to a particular region based on language. I am about to say - Excuse me, could you please pass on the newspaper. Suddenly I have this feeling that something is not quite right here. I turn a bit left and the next scene is straight out of Aahat Part 3. There is another character in the plot who was doing God-knows-what till now and is giving a frosty-nose look to me. She, without a speck of doubt, is the Daadi Ma who is all set to change the course of the story. As far as my experience goes, you can cross the hurdle of any girl's parents through the pole of your JEE rank but Daadi Ma is a real tough nut. She doesn't know the 1,75,000 people who appeared in JEE. She needs to be totally convinced that you are a Ram and only then will you be able to get Sita. Sounds like a challenge and the game has become interesting now. I have two females staring at me, one for the very right and the other for the very wrong reason and I don't have the guts to look at either of them. Daadi Amma is trying her best to find in me the wicked young lover who first traps gullible girls into his prem-jaal and then runs away with them.

I slowly fish out the other nice reads lined up for the journey, not to mention the 4 magazines I had bought at Chennai Central. All of them are piled up towards granny and then I sit facing her in a one-on-one battle. 8 hours elapse and the brave knight is either napping or reading. In this battle, even the soldiers who sleep in the runbhoomi are worshipped by prem-pujaris. But I have this strange feeling that the old lady is a Hitler. The devil would have rejected his son's application for succession the moment the old lady whispered to her son - Radhika ko idhar bitha do, wahan upar ek ladka hai. She has no mercy for the guy who has not uttered a single word in the last 32 hours. All through this time, she's been constantly monitoring me. God favours the brave and the granny gets her piece of cake when her son buys her a bright yellow, red & green coloured book from an unauthorized similar-books-carrying vendor who later tries to sell me some pink books in the shady corner connecting two coaches, completely unaware of the amount of exposure an IITian has to such stuff. The Dadi Amma's book is entitled Ishwar ke saath Sawaal-Jawaab – Special edition in Q & A format. She kept saying no but her son was an iron-willed man. I could agree no more to whatever reasons he thought for her to read the book and spare me the dragon eyes. Although now I have the opportunity/luxury to look in better directions, I am in no mood to break my tapasya. The man of dignity is not scared of walking on fire. Finally, the destination is about to arrive in half an hour. I slowly move out with my big suitcase and small bag. No glance at her, absolutely. And then, the Hitler moves towards me and says - Kahan ghar hai tumhara, bete? Kahan padhte ho? Abhi aadha ghanta hai station aane mein. Aao yahan baith jaao. For those of you who haven't guessed it yet, 'yahan' is straight in front of the girl and I feel like hitting three goals in a row in the inter-wing footer match. Radhika is giving me strange looks, with a slight smile and bewildering eyes. I can't help but smile back.

Instead of any intro-wintro which would have resulted into a detailed account of IIT life, I start a conversation with Daadi Amma about spirituality, the softest part of any old woman. As I open my gyaan ka pitara, granny starts raising her voice to strengthen her points and by now Radhika is laughing her head off while looking at the defeat of 'be a Ram/Sita' arguments she has been subjected to for ages.

The station comes. I quietly leave with my big suitcase and small bag without even talking a word with a cute girl near my berth throughout the journey, for the first time in years. And there were days when any such girl used to spend her journey reading my poems and leading conversations which used to begin with IIT to proceed towards more interesting things, with nobody around interfering. After first year, I left using IIT or poetry in train-encounters-with-girls. IIT brings more attention than one needs and poetry, the song of my heart, is reserved for someone who turns out to be more special. But right now I am just wondering why I converted a journey which could have been full of conversations with a cute girl and her family, ending happily with her cell no, into a fundae session on Bhagwan Krishna and his Maya with a 60+ lady? May be I wasn't desparate enough, which is a shame for someone from IITM. May be sometimes it's the squeeze that matters more than the juice.

Cute Quote

सोच रहा हूँ तेरे इश्क में एक कविता लिख डालूं, श्रृंगार रस की नदियाँ बहा डालूं
ठीक है बाबा, सुनाऊंगा नहीं, तुम ख़ुद ही पढ़ लेना

मंजिल या रस्ता

इस पल की पहेली में
सुलझते कितने ख्वाब
नज़रों की हर ख्वाहिश
पास आकर इतरा रही

रास्ते तो हैं कई सही
पत्थरों की चादर से ढके
हैरानी बस इस बात की
रास्तों का कोई छोर नहीं

कसूर मेरा है या रास्तों का
मंजिल ने तो कब का कह दिया
या तो मंजिल मिलेगी या रास्ता
पर रस्ते बिन मंजिल कहां

सुनी मन की करी मन की
बस मन के रस्ते पे चल पड़ा
कह रहा धीमे से मन, बढ़ा कदम
रास्ता ही मंजिल है, मंजिल रास्ता

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one,
And that has made all the difference.

Cute Quote

दिल में दिमाग में तुम ही तुम बस गए हो,
डरता हूँ, प्यार में कहीं बस-ड्राईवर न बन जाऊँ

Orkut Profile

Apoorva Chandra: /@pu:rv ch@ndr/ noun
Unprecedented moon, peerless, unparalleled

BTech: Theory - Electrical Engineering
Practical - Arts
Inspiration - Management

IIT: A zoo where monkeys arrive to watch the Saturday show. Mr AC wrote for toilet papers, spoke with stage fright on various stages, acted in sick & perverted ways, read Nancy Friday, danced in front of hundreds like a true bathroom dancer, scored 2-20 during bisemly tests, did a shaktimaan and a doodhwala during ragging, got a sex-change operation to play the heroine of his own play, rose to fame when he was caught playing Sita in Freshie Nite, saved some asses from Chandysaurus Deanex, got slapped in front of the whole institute for his poor acting and got bumped in his only interview as well as GD - all this just to please the monkeys. FINALly, he landed up in the F! cell which is his final chance to get out of the zoo.

Girl: Outside the zoo, the species hitting (on) you for being able to be locked up in the zoo. The Mr Happy that you're for having something so hot near you, you end up being Mr Loser (detailed account of incidents to be revealed if you manage to get me drunk, which is not quite easy, albeit some daredevils did succeed once upon a time). Inside the zoo, the species you think are missing.

The Law of the Jungle: All species are male. The zoo administration is gay.

Feedback: SHUT UP JACKASS! F!ng F!nal YEAR SHITHEAD.

Copy rights xxxx
Advanced Learner's IITMictionary
____________________________________________

Life's so nice
And I am wise (WTF!)
Fun at its peak
What else do I seek
Still I feel
A pulse of zeal
Just do it the way
For come what may
I'll move ahead... (chal chal aage badh, hawa aane de)

Cute Quote

कौन कम्बख्त कहता है प्यार में गम है
हम तो कब से उससे चिपकने की कोशिश कर रहे हैं, चिपकती ही नहीं है

:P

Where the dreams sail across meltdowns;
Where the gaze is firm and confident;
Where the wings are laughing at PJs;
Where the shirts have Saarang written over them;
Where the men regard each other as gods;
Where the terms are dictated not received;
Where the world awaits the change to be brought by each one -
Into that heaven of freedom, my father, let my IIT awake.

Place Meant For

Quit, it says. I can't eat into anyone's job, not at a time like this, not when I stand to gain a little and someone might lose so much.

Optimism is the key. It's a storm out there. Everyone's caught. Get a place to hide in. Strike when the sunshine arrives.

Life's got numerous bus stops, like the DTC ones. Get off the bus you took just to escape the rains at one of these. A bit of quick running and a fine jump will take you aboard the bus of your dreams.

IITians need not worry about weather fluctuations. We create our destiny ourselves, through vision, perseverance and sheer courage. All those night-outs before end-sems and quizzes have been nothing less than climbing a mountain in a day. We are tough people and can survive anything. It's a fresh start. Let the race begin, again, to find the place we are meant for.