All In A Day's Work

CHENNAI, December 6: As a fresh low pressure trough formed in Bay of Bengal, schools remained closed in ten districts in Tamil Nadu. Nevertheless, this did not deter students of Asian College of Journalism’s (ACJ) New Media stream, also under great pressure, to swim their way through muck, mulch and the likes to reach Alliance Française for a reporting examination.

The 60-odd students braved the deluge of rain to prove their mettle as reporters in a testing environment. While the schools remained closed on Monday, following a long wet weekend, the post graduate students were found traversing the roads of Chennai on a Monday, which for the rest of the city was spent like a Sunday – cosily in bed.

The assignment, which was to report on an Art Exhibition on Bonded Labour, being held at the Alliance Française, from 2nd to 11th December, was considered by many to be a piece of cake. But the proverbial cake vanished the instance the students heard about the recorded 10 cm of rains in the crying city. Overnight, Chennai had turned into a quasi-Cherrapunji.

While the river flowing outside the college campus, joined by the tributary from inside the college, swelled to its utmost, the enterprising students decided to call upon the Muthu Cabs’ Gods for help. Apparently the norm was to waddle your way through the flowing water. But the students got creative. The snakes, crabs and other such creatures, which might be considered delicacies in some remote corners of the world, were not about to make the student’s feet a part of their diet.

The students piled into the overcrowded cabs, praying fervently for the vehicle’s long-life. The jostling for the seats, in one of the cabs, was taken to be a sign of good spirit by the Tamil-speaking driver. The drive to the centre was akin to a sail in a boat in the waters of a polluted lake. The cab’s windows splattered with water and provided absolutely nil view of the road in front. Either the driver could see underwater or he had memorised every twist and turn of the roads. It was a toss between the two.

When the destination finally arrived and the party tumbled out of the cabs, there was noted a collected sigh of relief. The dishevelled travellers then crossed the undying water bodies and stepped onto the dry land of the Alliance Française of Madras. It was a happy gathering.

The first thing one noted when walking inside the exhibition room was the abundance of familiar faces. There were definitely more students than the 30-odd pictures merited. Crowded inside the 15’x12’x12’ room, the visitors to the exhibition were overawed not just by the stoic pictures but by the lack of ventilation. One student felt nauseated by the whole affair and had to be seated on a chair outside the exhibition to calm her nerves down. The board which said only two past this point had been favourably taken down from its usual post, above the door, and lay on the table beside the female prone to fainting fits.

There was a taped Tamil dialogue, playing in the background, lending an eerie sensation to the proceedings. The dialogue was between an owner and his slave which was neither understood by the non-Tamil speaking crowd nor the lone North-Eastern media public relations’ contact from the company. The closed door, at one end of the room signified just that – closure.

Though the students were made aware of the stark pain of the bonded labourers it was the disappointed faces of the latecomers who, when they reached their destination, where notified that the place had to close due to excessive rainfall, that was to haunt everyone.

The exodus back to the college campus was arguably one of the most ironic journeys. The students both wanted the ride back to the safe comforts of their room and at the same time detested the close contact of wet human bodies in a closeted space.

Nevertheless, as the death toll reached 170 on Monday evening, those who managed to make it back safely had reason to be thankful.

Murdering With A Paper Clip Made Easy

Sleek. Stark. Sharp. Purchasing it might be a microscopic investment but its results are definitely macroscopic.

The personality of a paper Clip has been viewed by many as of a stereotypical office essential. Nevertheless, its evolution from that to an everyday killing machine, which may not have been predicted by Nostradamus, seems to have caught on the fancy of a few Neanderthals on Facebook. Crediting their inspiration to be the after-effects of a smoke-up session and referring to the stolid paper clip as their muse, the creators of the page, “Five Ways To Kill With A Paperclip!” definitely have something huge in their hands.
So if you have one of those irritating people who question the viability of existence, as opposed to survival, as friends, you know what to do. Just facebook the above mentioned page. Started on May 15, 2010, it already has a fan following of 491 profiles. So don’t be wary, if you are genuinely interested in murdering someone please feel free to partake in the information available.

Some of the suggestions ought to be patented. Copyright might not be a bad idea either.
The art of uncurling it and stabbing someone with it is remarkable. But do make sure you sharpen it first. Another option would be to just stuff it down someone’s throat or esophagus (whatever appeals to you at the moment). Namrata Sahoo(21), a paper clip enthusiast quips, “Dip it in cyanide and make it the support for a lollipop and let the ‘you-know-who’ die licking.” The old school philosophy is to stab someone in the eye with it. Said to be painful, the procedure has been followed by quite a few rational and not so rational adolescents.

Some of the popular acts include shoving it in an electrical socket (I am guessing that is where the international singer, Robyn Rihanna Fenty’s “I’m gonna stand there and watch you burn” comes from.) Taking the lead out of a pencil and substituting it with a paper clip, sharpening it, and then attack people with it also seems to be quite a favourite. You could also opt for a less violent approach by threatening to stab someone with it and then watching them topple off the edge of a building.

Next time someone questions you on the uses of a paper clip you might wish to opine saying that, “a creative cells in a person’s brains raised to the power of infinity would not be sufficient to explain the phenomenon”, or you could just try out a few of the above mentioned ideas.

I rest my case.

Pottering with the Harrys~

Waking up early enough to compete with the resident rooster. Wading through unmentionable muck. On a Sunday Morning. Only for the Deathly Hallows.
Watching Harry potter and the Deathly Hallows – Rs 110.
Watching it with a vibrant Tamil crowd – priceless.
(Sawvee to disappoint my Delhi Dosts, but alas, Potter did not go “Yenna Rascala!”)

Dobby, you can be my friend anyday!
Snape, do I still love thee or what?!
Voldemort, we, the muggles, lyk thee.
Ronald Weasley – please! Pretty please, never grow up!

*A few things I jotted down when the movie started dragging*
~Mind you, the so-called topless scene was nothing but a backless so-not-required-zipping-up-sequence. Followed by a dry kiss. *Yawns*
~Harry and Hermoine making out- So creepy!
~New Zealand locales – prettyful.
~The Locket Horcrux puts Hermoine into depression. Ron into his jealous-sidekick frame and causes Potter to die... Fine! It causes him to come close to it.
~Quite a few big names feature in the Movie.
~Bill Nighy as Pius reminded one of his Davy Jones-ness.
~Yes, I did notice the jab at “Twilight”… (Ron – “My mum used twilight”. *Awkward Silence* “Midnight is better.”)
~Hermoine had almost as big a chunk as Harry. I am, of course, talking about roles.
~In some places it droned on for quite bit. The yawning in the audience was quite evident.
~Luna still remains my favourite character.
~I missed my first glimpse of Hogwarts. Duh! Cause' it NEVER happened.
~Harry and Hermoine dance. At least Hermoine does, Harry just does some funny movements. Not included in the book. But then, I did not mind it. =)
~The animation explaining the Hallows was kind of interesting. For a change it did not really feel out of the place.
~Shades of black, grey and brown lend the film that grim touch. You know the kind that makes you shiver with the cold and start if something brushes against your arm during the movie. It is definitely not a child’s tale anymore.
~The wand business was a lil' confusing. Especially, if you did not know the story before hand. Actually, about seven-tenth of the movie would be highly confusing if you were not a HP fanatic.
~Bellatrix still gives me the creeps.
~Keeeeeeeecher! Go get yourself a propah master!
~BathildaBagshot reminded me of the Exorcist girl. *shudders*
~Nagini coming out of Bathilda - pure eeeeuuuwy!

BTW, I did correctly predict the interval and ending to the exact second. *winkywinx*

Claimer: I still continue with my all berry apparent hate for Daniel Radcliffe.
P.S. – This is actually nothing but a declaration of my ACTUALWALA having viewed the movie. If only in ChennaaaY!!!
*YaaaaaYiiiiieeeee* =D

Covering Environment (Deprivation-Style)

Have you ever dived in dirty water? You know the kind that stinks more than a week’s cold can handle? Or waded waist-deep in the crappiest of Chennaaay crap. (Literally!) Or just suffered unusually rotten luck? I am sure, the kindred spirits out there will agree to having experienced at least one of the above. But then, my claim stands apart in one particular matter. Yes, I too have done these spectacular things before in my ever happening lyf. But never had I had an awe-inspiring opportunity to do ALL these in one day itself.

Sorely, but surely, the acts mentioned above were performed by a murder of 45 (plus the elusive 46th member of the group). The following activities might astound thee, even get you to raise that eyebrow, but please do not ever question the necessity of pushing a fifty-seater so-not-capable-of-ever-emitting-any-pollution-again bus through the muck and slush of Chennaaay city. Never. It is times lyk these which get you wondering if it would have been better if you had just stayed in your warm bed instead. (Preferably with your stuffed cuddly toy) Just a passing rhetoric thought.

The Highlights of the day included the below mentioned so-berry NOT trivial incidents. Try not to whimper.

~ Witnessing *The Pulicat Effect* One moment being waist-deep in the cleanest of ocean water and the next in the dirtiest of human waste. (Only a diluted version, to make it even more, inhumanly possible, queasier.)
~ Being up to thine thorax in crappy situations is the perfect occasion to pay gloomy attention to the past wrongs of your non-existent lyf.
~ Wading through ankle-deep slushy waters. Without your shoes, hoping the lurking snakes do not fancy your yellow socks. Just not today, please.
~ Standing directly opposite Singapore. Give or take a couple of thousand miles.
~ Munching on hot food standing under the cover of a Fire Station yard.
~ Getting a glimpse of mountains. Priceless.
~Finding out those mountains were made of stacked up rubbish. The price of hundreds of slum-dwellers lives.
~ Gazing at the slick-covered Buckingham Canal.
~ Pitying the extra students who wanted to tag along. Their naïve imaginations had never conjured up shoe-bites as an after-effect to the journey.
~ Wet soggy socks.
~ Pain in places you never knew existed.
~ Lingering smell of sewage the day after.
~ The time of great bonding. I mean, who would disagree with the idea of making friends over a roadful of mulch, pushing a fifty-seater bus in addition. Best Friends Forever in the making.

Nevertheless, 30th of October is definitely etched in my mind as a spectacularly different day. (read different as dirtily different.) In my Over-Achievement award speech I am certainly going to thank my Environment professor. I can just imagine Sir standing in front of the future batches of ACJ wannabe-Environment-students, giving them a review of what to expect on a typical field trip. (We have, of course, set the standard.) But my future juniors are going to be one disappointed lot. Our trip was definitely once-in-a-lifetime journey… all the imaginable stars had aligned to present us with the rottenest luck ever. Such a combination is un/fortunately is possible only once in a googol years (The Grasshopper effect notwithstanding.)

Denizen Dreams~

Dearest Delhi,

Have I ever told how much in love with you I am… I fear, I may not have been expressive enough. This, here, is an attempt to present my heart to you on a platter. It may not be made of gold, nor of silver, but it certainly is a hundred per cent genuine one. I do care, please do understand my plight. I may be far far away but this is no pleasant Neverland. I have come to realise that distance does make the heart grow fonder. Quite a bit. I have never felt as proud of you as I do today. You have emerged from the muck and the slush and it’s a victorious upcoming. You have done us all proud. Big tym. I am not the only one. The tears of joy I see around me, remind me of the attachment that none but a true land can bring. I appreciate, I sincerely do, for bringing such exhilarating feelings in me. You have shown me that failures are the stepping stones to success, however tricky their layout may be. I may not have been your favourite Denizen but you have certainly been my favourite land. From the rickshaws in ChandniChowk to the embassies in ChankyaPuri, you fill me with utmost delight. Your beauty compares to none. You are beyond brilliance. You are the one. Precious is the day when I stepped on your glorious sand. You may not have a beach, nor the mighty mountains, but you have the Yamuna and the Aravalli hills end with thee. You are the capital of not just the nation but my fickle heart. I have tasted your yummiest delicacies, I have enjoyed your extreme weather. Your mood swings might have brought out the worst in you but they brought out the best in me. In the pyramid of time may your glories never go unsung. May you continue being the muse that, for generations past, you have been. I love you for what you have been. I love you for what you are. I love you for what you shall be.

Yours truly

Tales of “Traffic”

Seen your reflection in Chennai’s Porus lake recently?
Thanked the helmet-god when you were saved from a brutal accident?
Heaved a sigh of relief on coming across wide roads?
Appreciated the lack of hawkers on the streets?
Rejoiced over congestion-free free pedestrian pathways?
If you have been a denizen of Chennai city and have had opportunity to exclaim upon any of the above mentioned situations then you have one person to thank – “Traffic” Ramaswamy. Directly or indirectly, the septuagenarian, since he first began in 1998, has managed to file PILs enough to shame the county into improving the traffic scene in Chennai.

Stoplights don’t deter him. Zebra crossings don’t slow him down. T-intersections just signal the start of another fight to be fought. He interprets all road signs as green. Red tape certainly does not limit his speed. Tunneling through the bureaucratic system he has created a subway of safe paths. He may have once stood upon crossroads of life, but there definitely seems to be no end junction to his works. Bypassing all comfort, he has lead a rollercoaster of a life. Plotting his day to day activities around roundabouts which halt the system from functioning properly, he has done what no traffic controller has done before – voluntarily controlled traffic.

You may be a pesky pedestrian or a tattling truck driver, his attitude towards you will always remain the same, of optimistic zeal. Jaywalking on touchy issues, the brave crusader has made a level crossing out of the complicated courtroom jargon. On friendly terms with the local police authorities, he doesn’t stop to consider how much it will cost him as long it’s a matter of right of way. Wielding his weapon of Public Interest Litigations, this new-age, very much real hero, certainly has what it takes- truckloads of enthusiasm and tons of energy. For him, it’s a one way ticket to impacting the public and there is no slowing down till he overtakes the judicial system. Cruising the highway to justice, he definitely doesn’t plan to quit anytime soon.

Dogs do rule ! Cats just drool!

Some wise chap once said that pets are the solution to loneliness. Dogs? Yes! Cats? Naaah! Old grannies still do keep cats, but then how many of us find grannies any fun? They kill tiny vermin, you say. Murderers, I call them. On the topic of being of adorable, kittens may still be called cute, but then all pups are cuter! (Unlike all babies!)

A bad-tempered person is referred to as a ‘bag of cats’. If you copy someone’s answer sheet, you get labeled a ‘copycat’. If you are cranky, you are a ‘sourpuss’. Think about it, curiosity always kills the inquisitive cats but never the sniffing dogs. Would you rather cat around and live a fairly aimless life or cherish a dog’s life, the simpler way out.

If you are lost in the woods who would you prefer to go to for help? Good ol’ Lassie or the lazy Garfield? Who does a detective like TinTin want around with him? Snowy or TopCat? Who would you rather wake up to? A cheerful dog or a mewling cat?
If a thief breaks in, how many cats would bark the house down?

A dog is the only thing on this earth that would love you more than it self. They are the first to welcome and the foremost to defend. Their unconditional love is unquestionable. No cat would ever wag their tail when they see you. The fact of the matter is that dogs adore and cats ignore!

So you think you own a cat? Think again! A dog would say, “You pet me, You feed me, You shelter me, and You love me. You must be God." Whereas the cat’s intrinsic belief is described as, "you pet Me, you feed Me, you shelter Me, and you love Me. I must be God."

“Dogs rule! Cats are fools!” Dogs can outrun cats any day. Seriously, I would like to see a cat herding cattle. It is easier to train the brattiest of dogs than the quirkiest of cats! Police forces, the military, the army, they all call upon the senses of a dog to help them out. When has a cat, officially, or otherwise, been of any help to humanity?

They lick themselves, cough up hairballs, abhor water, hence, are never clean.
Egyptians may have worshipped the mundane creatures, but thousands of years later, they still prefer to be waited upon!

I rest my case!

Why I Smile

Things that have made me smile, still make me smile and I hope, make me smile in the future as well.
(Not in any particular order, maybe...)

*A glass of cold water. The unsalty kind.
*Surprise Phone Recharge.
*Letters + Cards + PostCards
*Dedications - Poems + Songs + Testimonials
*Phone call at Four in the morn'
*Uncle Chips
*HomeCooked Food
*A welcoming house
*Hot Chappatis
*Free food
*Minty Fresh Breath
*Riding in Cars
*Bike Rides
*Clean Towels
*Sleeping in an AirConditioned Room and not just the Lecture Hall
*Bournvita in Hot Milk
*Ironed Clothes
*Fruits
*Someone who misses thee
*Head Massage
*Rains but not the slush/muck
*Beaches but not the sand
*Fresh Bedsheets
*IceCream in Winters
*A warm hug
*A propah bath where the soap actually gets washed away
*Good hair day
*Wholesome conversations. The satiating kind.
*A Crush
*The Colour Green
*English-speaking Autowallahs
*Uncorrupt Autowallahs
*Haircut
*Waxing
*A genuine smile
*Cheerful mornings
*Well-lit roads
*Company when alone
*Cheerful company when sad
*Answered Prayers
*Being an answer to a Prayer
*Comfortable sleep
*Not being scared of the dark
*Finding money in unexpected places
*Stars + the Moon
*Cool breeze
*Message chat
*Getting to a new place without getting lost
*Not having to cross roads
*Having someone calm to cross roads with

"IF ONLY I HAD BEEN NOT AN IDIOT I WOULD HAVE ..."

...been a bigger idiot. Maybe. Who knows? Or I could have been fantastic. Like I am now. Its all about the 'if'. Either you have it or you don’t. I, personally, would not like to be appreciated with a sentence prefixed with an 'if'. It just spoils the whole flow of thought. Just like how 'but' does it. "I really like you, but..." Hits hard, doesn’t it?
The question which now arises is, does it really make sense to bother what you fill the unforgiving moment with? Be it meandering memories or tangential thoughts... fictitious facts or rambling ruminations. At the end of the day what could have been is nowhere close to be taken into account than what you actually are. Nevertheless, one still likes to fantasize about the life that could have been... youngest Oscar-winner, author of the bestselling book in the universe, maybe the actual Doctor Dolittle. Even a child prodigy would have been brilliant!
Alas! I do not have a Time Machine to go back in time, so I have to stick to being what I am… the one and only myself. Whatever faults I may have, at least they are mine! So cheers to the world for fuelling my aspirations. Someday, I will be part of someone else’s philosophical writings. Someday i will hit the jack pot and summarize my past as i was living it, in poverty, and yet, in sheer abandon. Someday my name will appear on one of the best-selling novels and my long lost friends might recognize me and think about how I was back then, luckless, volatile, and insecure. Maybe someday I will discover the indescribable. Till then I am going to stick to trying not to bother about the sanctity of this fortunate living. Incomprehensible babbling suits me the best. You might want to try it as well. It might do you good. Who knows… maybe.

FINCH, ATTICUS

Scrawny, hunch backed, tongue lolling out with that all too perfect grin on his stupid face, muddy brown with a wicked disposition… that is how my first memory of Finch goes.
I adopted Finch from a shelter for homeless animals. When I first met the brat, he bit the neck of a towering Great Dane. Though he has never shown that side again I am sure he is just as rotten as they come.
He is as inactive as Bull dogs go. Maybe a tad bit more. Tall, dark and handsome – he has the power to make cars roll their windows down, when out on a walk. Lots have “ooohed” and “aaahed” over the brute. Not that he has ever been known to reciprocate any stranger’s mushy comments. He is a private person. Other than when it comes to food. I have undying faith in his ability to be a nuisance. Yes, he has made me a believer.
Kind, loyal, endearing like his namesake… though his gentlemanly behaviour is highly debatable. He has managed to carve a well-established niche for himself and his foolhardiness. A delusional human being, he faithfully believes the Sofas are his sole property. Many a war has been waged between my mother and the loon. None to her advantage, as of yet.
He has taught me the value of never judging anyone by their face value. His loose hanging skin over the peekaboo eyes gives one the impression of a serious personality. Which, as I have learnt the hard way, is far from the truth.
Appreciating him from a few thousand miles is not as hard as I imagined it to be. I might even miss his guttural barks. Time has yet to tell.

[ I, ME AND MYSELF ]

My life, according to me, can be divided into two parts - BC and AD - Before Chicken Pox and After the Destruction. Before Chicken Pox came calling, I was undeniably brilliantly clueless about the actual trials and tribulations in life, even though I thought so otherwise. And then the Pox hit. Pain was not an option anymore.

Separation, Divorce, Heart Break, Violence, I thought I had seen it all. Nothing would ever be able to surprise me anymore. But then I have been wrong before.

Contrary to popular belief, I would want the scars to remain, at least one. Just to remind me of a time in life when I was depressed, uncomfortable, irate, away from home, but when I still, somehow, managed to overcome the beautiful disaster.

Mimzy~

I miss dropping you back home...
I miss pretending to be your BodyGuard...
I miss those "walks"...
I miss the yapyapyapyap sessions...
I miss the late Metro rides...
I miss the random movies...
I miss BCLing...
I miss getting stranded with you...
I miss our impromptu shopping sessions...
I miss our ONE fight...
I miss the nightstays...
I miss the cribbing...
I miss always being there with you...
I miss taking you for granted...
I miss the craziness...
I miss the seriousness...
I miss AlphaNumeric...
I miss IP...
I miss the autorides...
I miss the roadcrossing...
I miss your scolding...
I miss your agreeing with everything...
I miss our consensus...
I miss our LoveLyfs...
I miss trying to set you up with whackos...
I miss being the Knight-In-Shining-Armour...
I miss being mommied by thee...
I miss the giggling...
I miss Capitol...
I miss drinking with thee...
I miss being sober with thee...
I miss your accidents...
I miss YOU!

Why I might just be missing Delhi.

(As always, in no particular order or sense.)
Try not to read too much in between the lines… It will just confuse thee!
*Smug smile*

~I miss the Construction Site which Delhi has become owing to the CommonWealthGames.
BTW, I am also gonna terribly miss Volunteering for the the CWG… =/

~ 95 FM. Or for that matter, ANY English FM.

~English.
Chennai has no dearth of people conversing in Sign Language/ Baby Talk… but try to get them to talk English and it turns out to be a horrid mix of Tamil+English=Tinglish. I have nothing against Tinglish other than the inglorious fact that I do NOT understand it. Hmph!

~Buying Movie Tickets in Current.
*Sighs*
I miss Satyam+PVR+BIG+FUNCINEMAS and the lyk… I do! I do! I do! =/

~Miss my PhoneRecharge Bhaiya.
Here I have an Uncle typish personality who wants to pass himself off as an Anna. Not with those jhaadolyk mustaches, no you don’t!

~Momma cutting my Nails. =|… =/… =[

~My Hangers!!!
I miss seeing all my clothes beautifully lined up. Hanging in my Wardrobe. In my hangers.
I miss thee, dearest wacky collection of Hangers.

~ My Retarded PC. Sometimes.

~ My Mooozik.
Because, I still don’t know where I saved the stuff I moved from my PC to my Lappie.
Vanished without a trace!

~ My Accessories Collection.
*My Belts
*My Shoes
*My Chappals
*My Bangles
*My Earrings
*My Rings
My Preciousss!

~My BEST PHRANDWAS!
I have some of the world's yummiest BestFriends...
Some of them are my kind.
Some are completely opposite.
Some actually hate me... for certain things.
The rest just Lub me lyk crazy...
And I lub them back!

~Clicking a Gogol pics.
*Mirror Pics
*Group Pics
*Shady pics
*Posing Pics
*Up-Above-The-World Pics...
*sighs*
Its just not the same in Chennai... or anywhere else for that matter.
My 7610 Supernova misses being used.

ChickenPoxing in Chennai~

I am an extremist. I always do things in extreme. Or I do not do them at all.
E.g., I had been warned not to fall sick during my ten month stint in ACJ.
Duh! Of course, how in the wide world was I gonna resist the temptation... I just had to! And the best part was I chose to fall sick with Chicken Pox!
Why you ask... because I love being referred to as "Kentucky Fried Baxter".
Plus, I wanted to assist my Comrades-in-Arms. You know who you are.

Following are snatches of my ongoing war with words / ramblings of a dangerous kind / blaaaaah bleeeeeh bleeeeep. Take your pick.

~ In answer to my queries of how badly disfigured a Landmine do I have on my face, I have been informed that I look lyk a movie star. I guess they were referring to the Exorcist. Not bad.

~ Having visitors right now is the human equivalent of being a prized caged animal in a zoo. They all expect me to perform a trick. I tried The Exorcist Back-Flip. So did NOT happen. But I definitely managed a backache.

~ Ever since those blessed Neem leaves came into my possession I look lyk something out of a Jadoo Tona movie...

~ However I may detest this place, I have made a couple of lifelong friends already.
They were there when I started cribbing left, right, centre and in a hundred other directions when my “fever” just would not wish me BuhBye.
They are the ones who lemme cry my heart out when the painful boils broke out.
There are also some who find my boils eerily mystifying.
And then there are those who put lacto all over them. Not a berry tempting job in the best of times.
They are the kinds who get drenched trying to get idlis for me.
Lets not forget the ones who got thrown out of their own rooms. My Bad!

~Whoever said the Pox will go away soon, better define "soon".
Descriptions vary from a candid three to four *gulps* weeks to two-three days.
The latter is my cue for screaming lyk a Banshee... "LIAAAAAAAR!!!"

~BTW, A word about the Warden.
She may not give you Night-Outs, nor will she allow you in after 10 PM ( which if you try arguing with, turns down to 9.30 PM).
She does not understand the concept of having a ( non-existent ) social life.
She converses in a mix of sign language and Tinglish( Tamil+English ).
She thinks water means Buttermilk. At least in my case.
She fines you for losing your own wallet. So I have heard.
...but she is the BESTEST person in ACJ. =)
She helped me survive my cruelest days in the ACJ Hostel. She mommied me when I missed my Momma beyond a doubt. She was the one who covered me with Neem paste and bathed me out in open ( That part I did NOT lyk…) But I have to admit, she is one genuinely helpful person. Period. =)

The Rainy Day

It was one of those days. The kind which Manoj found equally fascinating and yet foolishly irritating. Huddled under the local chaiwala's shack, along with the other nudging commuters, the sound of the raindrops falling on the asbestos sounded like frying onions to him. The road in front of him was a live example of chaos in action. The two-wheelers trying to make their way out of the traffic were honking more than usual. The cars with their blaring music were trying to make their way out of cycle gaps. A few brave people in garishly coloured umbrellas were trying to cross to the bus-stand on the other side. The cause of all this, the massive Coca-Cola truck, whose monstrous wheels were stuck in the submerged muddy potholes was the only one standing idly. Yes, it was a busy day as usual.

...Write poetry you say,
Heals even the dead, if only you would pray.

I pledge...

I pledge to be witty
In all that I do and say
Its not lyk a propaganda
Just trying to be sarcastic and gay

Its one of those things
The kind which everyone wants to do
Not that its that easy peasy to do
Else why would I be announcing it to you?

Maybe... Who Knows?

Maybe I am lame...
But am I the only one to blame?

Maybe I am dumb...
But does it mean that I am numb?

Maybe I am crazy...
But what makes you think I'm lazy?

Maybe I am weird...
But aren't I smarter than anyone in a beard?

Maybe I am insane...
But has that been an issue when I could entertain?