So Long, and Thanks For All The Fish!

Well, this blog is inactive to say the least.

It has seen over 80 posts, been subject to praise and brickbats alike, endured the wrath and angst of its often eccentric writer and has had a reasonably diverse set of readers. But most importantly, it has been an important outlet for me. I've used it whenever I've needed to vent out my frustration, and yes indeed, it HELPS! However, I've reached the point where I realise that I don't quite have anything more to say. Perhaps I don't write anymore when I'm angry/happy/sad. Whatever it is, I do believe that this particular blog has run its course. In future, there will probably be other blogs, but for now, in the spirit of Douglas Adams - So Long, and Thanks For All The Fish!!!

The Shared Auto

Wondering what the title is all about? I mean, shared autos aren't all that uncommon, right? Well, make a trip to Gurgaon, and you'll find out why I'm writing about them. Better still, be forced to live (and work) here for two months. Then you'll really find out! Imagine the following scene: You live about 4 km from your work-place, with a ten-lane expressway in between. How long do you think you'll take to reach office? Five minutes? Ten? Fifteen? Well, if you're in this city, not less than 45 minutes, and that's on a good day. You see, the Einsteins who designed this little gem of suburbia forgot one tiny detail - the public transport. In Gurgaon, the word "public" and "transport" don't really mix. It's like Real Madrid and Barcelona fans. There isn't even a snowball's chance in hell of any sort of combination of the two. You've just got to deal with the fact - get a car, or else sit in three separate overcrowded, dusty and painfully slow autos to get to your workplace. It's that simple: Car or the Indian version of chaos-on-wheels. I'll try my best to upload pics of these vehicles, but like the Mumbai Locals and Bangalore traffic jams, you have to experience them to believe in them. Let me try my hand at a description - take a medium sized auto-rickshaw (about 50% larger than the Autos from Bangalore) and stuff FIFTEEN people into it. Bags, Sacks, Barrels, Small children... Everything fits, and how! Add loud dik-chik dik-chik music, painfully under-powered engines (obviously, the manufacturers wouldn't have had a passenger load of 15++ to contend with) and bingo, you have a typical "shared auto". A driver screaming random names and making interesting gestures at passers-by completes package. Wait a minute, I forgot to mention the best part. The "Shared" part of a shared auto comes from the fact that there needs to be more than one person in the auto, and they only ply on fixed routes (presumably, the random names the chaps keep shouting). Unfortunately, "more than one person" equates to a minimum of six. Hence, a half-empty auto behaves like a drunk lecher, angling its way near each pedestrian, (esp. women, and I've noticed this time and time again) almost intimidating them to get into the auto. No amount of pleading, coaxing or even cursing can get the driver to move a little faster. There is a single over-powering emotion: "must pick up passenger, stuff him/her in". Time constraints? Whatever is that? Abe India hai, boss! I sincerely miss those express buses of Mangalore :)

Hello World!

Hmmmm... Is it just me or are my titles getting stranger with each successive post. I read a few of the others, and ordinarily, I'd have put them down to the work of a stark-raving lunatic. Oh well, it takes all types to make this world. Anyway, as with all other esoteric titles, this has a vague semblance of an origin. (And here, some of my friends are going to roll their eyes over and snigger at the pretentiousness of it all. Well, quoting Clark Gable, frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn...) I was think about stuff in general the other day (here's where it all started to go downhill, right at the "think" part) and I realised something. I don't quite like the world I'm increasingly being exposed to at what is supposed to be a B-school. Don't get me wrong - the primary purpose of this place - i.e. providing a reasonable amount of knowledge - isn't being unfulfilled or anything. While some courses make you want to tear your hair out, and stuff it down someone's unfortunate throat, most provide a fair degree of learning. The part that depresses me about this place is the level of competition and politics.

Back at my previous institute, our student body was fragmented pretty much along regional lines. (For those afraid of another one my "election" related posts, don't worry. I was never really into that sort of thing...) It was sad to watch a bunch of guys, who were about as homogeneous and talented a group as is possible, given the size, squabble over issues that could have easily been solved in much better, more efficient ways. Here was one of the best institutes in the country, ending up as a sad reflection of all the ills that plague India. When push came to shove, we divided ourselves along simple language and region. Screw merit and all related concepts, we wanted our "state" to be among the winners. Some of us tried to change things, with a few notable effects, but all in all, what transpired was hardly the most optimal solution. For me, it was an indictment of all that was wrong with the system in India.

So, doing what Indians do best, I simply ignored it, forgot about it, and pretended that nothing had happened. In all fairness, nothing really had happened. I was just a little late to wake up, and smell the coffee, as it were :)

Anyway, moving on to where I am currently, I thought that this place would be different. I expected a far more mature response to issues like elections, considering the group of people here (after all, I'm one of the youngest in my class). Well, the previous few months have been pretty much the opposite of what I expected. I've realised yet another thing - this place, while mercifully not divided along regional lines (at least not apparently, anyway), is still very much divided. People can't seem to understand a simple fact - this stuff (committees, secys etc. etc.) really DOES NOT matter. Think about it - ten-plus years from now, are all these committees going to seem all that important? I sure hope not, for all our sakes :P. Not to say that I didn't have fun as part of a committee - I think that what we accomplished (esp. memorable - one hell of a simulation game) was quite brilliant - but I'd like to think that there are bigger things in life. That brings me to my point - at times, we tend to get a bit caught up in the here and now. We seem to be overly bothered about stuff that really doesn't matter, so much so that we neglect what we ought to be doing. Getting one more live project, with no real learning value, really isn't going to change much. Having said that, everyone's doing it, so what's the harm in doing it also? There lies a fundamental problem I really can't change - we're part of a rat-race, and I can't see a way out of it, yet...

It's Time For Change!

Well, if anyone still visits this blog (apart from me once every fortnight, surreptitiously checking if there's been any sort of activity) they'd have notice the change in the name. The obvious question that follows is "Why?". Well, to put it very simply, things have changed. My physical appearance has changed, if only by a bit. My world and the experiences in it have changed. My friends have changed. (at least some of them :P) But most importantly, I've changed. The way I look at things, the way I see people has definitely been altered. I've gone from contentment, to mini-desperation, and finally back to contentment again. In some things I've tried and failed. In others, I've been successful after a fair few attempts. In still others, I've succeeded at the outset itself. My expectations from people have been modified to account for the subtle deception that is invariably part of life. I've learned not to take things at face value, and not to assume anything.

All in all, I've done a reasonable bit of introspection, and realised that ultimately, thus far, the questions I've asked have mattered far more than the answers I've received. Hence the title - Questions, NOT Answers.

Um....

Well, it's been a long, long time since I put up something here. I've made several starts, but have completed nothing that I'd actually want people to read. Anyway, what you're about to read is a set of thoughts that are hopefully (it is after all nearly 5 AM) connected by a common theme, however tenuous.
Ever since I've come to this part of the country, (Jamshedpur, Jharkhand - East-ish India for the Geographically challenged) I've noticed a few things that are different here. Food-wise, this place sweeps the floor with NIT Surathkal's gastronomic delights. Except from the unfortunate fact that the chef seems to own a potato farm, seems to work to the old adage - "when in doubt, fry it in oil", the food here is a world apart from the stuff I was used to. People-wise, I really can't make out much of a difference, except that my new set of friends aren't really interested in the geeky stuff that I'm used to. (Yes, yes. Before my former wing-mates start baying for my blood, let me just point out that we were, and still are, geeks to a certain extent - however much we may deny it) Institute-wise, there's a wide and substantial difference between NITK and XLRI. A clear change (and this is something that took me a while to get adjusted to) is the level of work - At NITK, let's just say that Final year was akin to cruise control on an Autobahn, while my first term here was like clutch-riding through City-market traffic. Also, the things that I do here seem to matter more, but I'm sure that's just me - I reckon that I'm just as insignificant as ever :P
Some things haven't really changed - I still am the source of entertainment in my group, given my interesting origins and let's just say, "unique" (there are several opinions on this one - let me not get pedantic :P) points of view. Some things have - I can now fully appreciate the value of loosing an argument - something that a few years ago would have been anathema to my very existence.
Well, there you have it - a very brief snippet of..... um, I really don't quite know what that just was. Which would go a long way in explaining the title :)

Vikram is now using Facebook in English (UK)

Yes, yes - you did read the title right. After months of sheer, utter, total and complete boredom, I've decided to join the rest of the civilised world on Facebook. If you've been a regular reader of my meanderings over the past few months, you'd have noticed a fair few posts belittling and deriding the entire world of Social Networking. So what prompted the change of heart?
Well, apart from the aforementioned boredom, (see the first line for the qualifying adjectives) I found that I know (OK, not "know know", rather "know of" or "know about") a lot of people, and this is perhaps the only place I can find almost all of them. So whether it's my high-school reunion (which I missed, thanks to me being a self-styled social hermit) or a friend's birthday, I won't be in the dark any more. (hopefully)
However, this does not mean that I'm a fan of the medium. Photos, videos, and random likes/comments are fine, but I don't expect to find myself taking quizzes like "which barnyard animal does so-and-so resemble?" OR "which word suits so-and-so the best" OR even the oh-so-tempting "which character from Housefull do you best identify with". I mean, come on, if anyone bears any resemblance to characters from that awful movie, it's time to lock them up and throw away the key, preferably into an active volcano. Neither do I expect to find myself "poking" friends. (speaking of which, I've never got the idea of a "poke" - what the hell is it anyway?) And don't even get me started on MafiaWars or FarmVille. Raising a cow/sheep/pig/tractor is fun isn't it? NOT.
Time-consuming rubbish apart, Facebook is still a powerful tool (if used properly, and for the "right" reasons), and I was a bit of an idiot to stay away from it for so long. Well, as they so famously say - Better late than never!

Adiós and Muchas Gracias, NITK!

Well, after almost four years, eight semesters, and countless incidents to remember, this is it. This is, in all likely-hood, going to be my last post as a student of NITK, Surathkal. I have a lot to be thankful for - a fantastically diverse set of friends, a set of great experiences that can only be had in a hostel like mine, innumerable incidents which define who and what I am... - the list is endless. A few (material only - friends always come first on any list) activities and places of note that I will miss: Football, GNPD, Endless Ranting about the deplorable Mess, Bureaucracy and what not, Arbit and totally last-minute Trips, Suraj, Amul, Nescafe, Mega Block, SD Canteen...
In terms of what I take home with me, nothing can be more valuable than the things I've learned about myself. As I stare outside my window at the rest of the campus, I can't help but marvel at the transformation that has happened to me, during the four years I've spent here. Every little victory, every little set-back, every little moment of doubt - they've all added to the Vikram Gulati that leaves here tonight. I've made and lost friends, and in some cases, even re-made them. I've learned the art of sharing, the art of giving, and more painfully, the art of speaking (or rather not speaking :D). I've traveled a fair deal, literally crossing streams and climbing mountains :P. I've learned how to appreciate good food, yet developed the art of eating almost anything with a smile on my face. I've learned how to stay positive, and the magical skill of keeping myself occupied. I've also learned how to appreciate the small things that make every single day beautiful - the way the rain falls, the flowers on the trees, the crash of the waves on bare rocks, the effortless flight of an eagle - things that would have escaped a 17-year-old version of me.
As I've said before, I have a lot to be thankful for, and this post, if at all it has any point to it, is simply to say just that - Thank You, NITK!

It's THAT Time Again...

Yes, Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the greatest show on this vast (read: NITK campus, all xxx - can't seem to recall the exact figure, but rest assured, it's HUGE - acres of it) Earth. I have the solemn (and unilateral, because I'm sure half the people reading this are going to denounce me as a heretic, be-littler, blah-bloody-blah) honour of introducing to you the Student Union Elections as the headline act for tonight. Please take your seats, and be prepared for the sheer grandeur of the setting, the relevance of the dialogue and the solemnity of the script. Welcome to one and all, once again.
Frivolity aside, let me describe the significance of this event in the life of the average NITK-ian. Since NITK is an amalgamation of students from all across India, and ultimately these said students are the ones that vote for the Union (and other) leaders, an election here is bound to reflect the, ahem, "vibrant" nature of the Great Indian Election. As in the real thing, coalitions are the order of the day. Situations like Region 1+Sub-region 2+Part-of-Region 3 vs Region 4+ Sub-sub-region 5+ Break-away-province 6 are common occurrences, with each important party (yes, "party", like the BJP/Congress/etc.) choosing representatives, leaders, negotiators, spies, secret weapons, counters-to-secret-weapons et al. Constituency visits, in the form of late-night meetings in the various blocks; Campaigning, in the form of door-to-door visits; Propaganda in the form of videos, pamphlets, agendas and even manifestos; Reservations in the form of a "Girls Rep" (recognising the fact that with 1/8th of the population, they need the representation - see how prescient we are?) etc. are all to be found in this democratic exercise. Again, reflecting the true nature of our multi-faceted country, negotiations for potential alliances are long, tedious and often fruitless. News from a day before may as well be a year old. Partners are swapped with an orgy-like frequency, friends are made, lost and made again. When the very future is at stake, (and I'm talking long-term here - ONE whole year of proverbially running the show) can you expect anything else? Can you? Huh? Huh?
You don't agree? Oh you foolish, cretinous, half-witted moron!

P.S. Since we're (Final years) almost done with this place, we aren't officially involved in the process - which is what led to this post. It's easy to write about events that you are disconnected from... :D

Why?

Prologue: Lists upon lists of endless numbers were splayed across his screen. Frantically, he began searching through them hoping, rather, expecting to see his. After a few futile minutes, he was forced to admit the happening of the implausible. The Earth had just given way, and he felt himself falling, falling to previously unfathomable depths...

He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He was still unsure of what had happened, and and he couldn't even begin to conceive why things had turned out the way they had. He didn't quite know which way to turn, for every direction seemed as forlorn as the last. Needless to say, he had not a clue of what to do next. All he knew was that he had failed in the one place he was sure to succeed. Around him, some of his friends were understandably ecstatic, happy that they had managed to overcome impossible odds, odds he disdained, until now. A few sympathised, but their plausibly soothing words only served to rankle him further. The question foremost in his tortured mind was this - "Why?"
Why, after he had spared no possible effort? Why, after all the promise leading up to that fateful day? Why him, the darling of the punters, one of the few, almost certain to coast to victory? Why?
For days on end he sat, staring despondently at the endless trickle of bad news. Lists, e-mails, news, all of it seemed to be directed against him, aimed at adding insult to already sore injuries. Professional or personal, no realm of his existence was left untouched by the blight. Everything, everything seemed to be out of place. As he stood looking at himself in the dusty mirror, in the derelict sanctity of his room, one thing became very clear, not unlike the coming into focus of a distant landscape. He had had spells of inconsequentially bad luck before, the lessons from which still reverberated in his cluttered head, but never before had he realised anything with greater clarity. This was simply not meant to be. Rationalism be damned, this was just not going to go his way, irrespective of how much he felt he deserved it. He realised with a sense of awe previously unknown to him, that he had been guided by Fate.
Never one to believe in destiny, he prided himself on the fact that he was a faithful follower of Logic. For him, cause and effect had a precedence over all other beliefs. If he worked at something, he succeeded. That was all there was to it. The concept of luck existed merely to placate those who obviously did not deserve what they did not get. Like much else in his world, this belief had also been turned on its head. Unbidden, the image of an all-sentient being, pulling at strings not unlike those used to control puppets, filled his head. He realised that the image was more than just mere symbolism - this was the way things were, the answer to that most fundamental of all questions - Why?

Epilogue: A short while later, his screen was filled with yet another list of numbers, representing hundreds of his fellow competitors. Predictably by now, his number did not figure on the list. Unlike the previous five times this had happened, he smiled to himself, closing the lid of his computer. There was not a trace of disappointment or despondency on his usually emotive face. There was however, a calm serene expression - the expression of someone who knew the reason why...

Buzz Buzzzzz...

It's been a while since I was last here. How many of you missed me? OK, wrong question, I was being a tad optimistic... Sarcastic answers notwithstanding, (why don't you put them in the comments section - I'm quite bored honestly, and could use some entertainment) here's why I've chosen to occupy a few more kilobytes in the blogger.com servers.
As I'm sure you'd have noticed, Google launched yet another service, aimed at making us incapable of communication beyond 20 odd words - Buzz. They haven't actually said that it resembles Twitter, (that 160 character marvel that seems to be the by-word for the socially-urbane folk today) but it's quite obvious that they hope to steal some of its thunder. Not too mention that of Facebook, (though how much is questionable, given the lack of easy access to visual stimulus - something that most guys love looking at, for reasons best left unsaid) Flickr, and a whole host of other services I really couldn't care less about. As far as I'm concerned, anything that encourages us to communicate using lesser words and with more (read random) people is something to be avoided like the plague. I'm not saying that Google Buzz will end up being as degenerate as some of the other "social" networking websites, but I'm not too optimistic. I hope that I end up liking it, because it sure as hell can be an excellent past-time.
However, there's a bigger question here. Has the world moved on from means of communication where you actually need to write something (as opposed to looking like you're training to be the world's most reticent Trappist monk) to forms where any bit of extraneous information is a bit too much, and things like "liked blah blah movie, so-and-so person hot, direction OK, story sucks" actually sound verbose? Even E-mail, something that was considered rude, curt, and overly business-like not so long ago, seems like verbal extravagance. I shudder to think what we're going to come up next. Maybe it'll be a form of gesture recognition. Wave once, and you're hungry. Wave twice, and you want to go see a movie, apart from eating dinner. Wave thrice, and... well, you get the point. We're going to be reduced to using gorilla-communication techniques in the not-so-distant future, unless we're careful. I bet Darwin would have a hard time explaining that.
Granted, there are some merits to the new social network, but I really don't think that "likes" and "pokes" fall under this category. Call me an old-fashioned fool, but I genuinely believe that friends ought to mean something more than the odd comment on a wall/homepage/whatever. If you consider someone to be your friend, spend at least a few minutes writing something that doesn't look like a newspaper headline. But then again, what the hell do I know?

You Know That You Need A Social Life

I realise that NITK isn't exactly a bohemian hot-spot and that I don't really fit the party-hopping stereotype, (as my sister loves to point out - "you're soooo boring!") but this December was a real social low. Here's a handy list to know when you need a new social life:

1. The only messages you get on your phone are Google Calendar reminders (pick up such-and-such form, pay so-and-so bill etc.)
   
2. You keep your phone switched off for nearly two weeks and don't miss a single call/message/S.O.S./whatever (even the said reminders choose not to arrive!)
3. The only sound your phone makes is due to the morning alarm.
   
4. Your cell-phone balance (of Rs. 30) remains nearly the same for over a month.
5. You spend a lot of time staring at a nearly empty GTalk list, wondering who is still undisturbed (read not-yet-contemplating-justifiable-homicide) by your boredom.
6. You start writing about random events (you should read some of the drafts on this blog - even I find them nonsensical)
7. You find yourself alone on New Year's Eve (even my parents and sister decided to give me the slip :D)
8. Your childhood friends become extra-busy, so much so that you are cut off mid-sentence with promises of "I'll call you back" which never materialise.
9. Your favourite songs are those about heartaches, loss, sadness, rainy nights and silence.
10. You open your mail-box on the hour, every hour, hoping for some signs of your friends.
11. Your only mails are from News and Techno-geek websites. (apart from regular Calendar reminders :P)
    

The high point over the past three weeks would have to be a brilliant vacation that I really enjoyed. Apart from that, it was a bit of a depressing end to the decade. Thankfully, things are beginning to look up, now that I'm back in college. Happy New Year!

The First of The Last(s)

Another day, another week, another year and yet another semester. Just what makes this particular one worth blogging about? (here's the part where I like to delude myself that this blog has some standards...)
Well, it just happens to be the last semester (hopefully) that I shall spend at NITK, Surathkal, my second home for the past three and a half years. Today, I began my eighth semester with the usual frustrating queues for paying mundane fees, something that can easily be avoided by the tiniest bit of computerisation. As I finished every frustrating formality that could be possibly devised, I realised one thing - that however much I may gripe, crib or complain about the procedure, there is going to be a part of me (in this case, a very very small part) that will actually miss such tasks. I realised that this was probably the last time I was going to stand in a line, trying to get past reluctant people with shouts of "final year, final year". And then it hit me - It's going to be one long semester of "last-times". The last Inci, the last Engi (already over, courtesy our administration) the last time we sat on the terrace, the last time on the beach, the last time at the temple, the last time at the top of the lighthouse, the last time getting high on cheap booze. (for the more experimental among my friends!) I also realised one other thing - I don't have to feel bad that it's the "last time". All I need to do is ensure that I stay happy, and try to enjoy every moment of this semester. Sure as hell, it promises to be like no other. So, here's wishing all my fellow "final" years - Happy new year, and a very happy last semester! May this be the best "last-time" ever!

21

This post is a tad late (apart from being perhaps the most random thing that I've ever written - I blame it on utter boredom), considering the fact that I turned 21 a couple of months ago. Turning 21 ought to be a watershed moment in a person's life, considering the fact that the said person should have (by now) at least a faint inkling of what he/she wants to do with his/her life. In that regard, I'm still lost in the proverbial jungle of confusion. All I'm sure about is what I don't want to do. Philosophical rambling apart, here's a list of things that I can now, legally and legitimately given my "mature" age (please note that the audience laughter sign is being held up), choose to do.

1. Legally Purchase Alcohol (in most states of India): Yesssss! This is the big moment that I've been waiting for. Till now, I've been the model of sobriety only because the law says that I have to. Now I can really break loose. Gone are the days of restraint. No longer am I bound by the shackles of our legal system. I don't need to fear anyone, for I can now legally demand my single-malt-scotch-on-the-rocks. (read coke-spiked-with-Mysore-Lancer) Muhahaha (Audience benefits from evil laughter sound), no one can stop me now!
   What's that? In the two months since my birthday (and for as long as I can remember - in spite of plenty of opportunities to change the status-quo), I've been as sober as a judge? Doesn't that toss the "21-I'm-free-time-to-get-wild" theory right out the window? Well, as they say, there's many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip :P
   
2. Officially Get Married: (Audience may now collectively gasp) Wow! Here's something that I just can't wait to do. Oh, joy! I've been dying to let myself into a hallowed life of boredom and monotony. Let me go through the check list needed to ensure that "the big day" goes off smoothly. Willing groom (Audience may NOT laugh) - check. Location (Audience is left wondering - think "cheap", heck "free") - check. Willing Bride - hmmm... Damn! I knew I forgot something. Let me start with something simpler. Steady Girlfriend? Nope. Any Girlfriend, ever? Nope. So where does that leave the great wedding plan? Well, as has been admirably put before, "We've been scuppered, Mate".
3. Legally Walk into a Night Club (not just in India, but anywhere in the world): Yippee! Here's something that I've always wanted to do. I'm the quintessential party animal, dude! (Audience may request for doggy-bags, to store the unpleasant effects of nausea) You cannot believe how much I've wanted to sweat it out in a smoky, hazy, ill-lit, alcohol-filled dungeon. I just love showing off my moves on the dance floor. The world of raving (literally!) lunatics is about to get a whole lot more interesting. Watch out!

Well, I've run out of activities that are legally open only to people over 21. (There's a limit to boredom, thankfully!) Have I missed out on anything interesting?

NITK Lingo - Part 2 (I think)

As the title may have suggested, I am a) Highly jobless b) Extremely bored and c) Without a source of inspiration. As a result, I have fallen back upon my tried-and-tested method of recycling old topics. I'm not too sure how many of you actually read the previous post on this topic, (I'm guessing not too many - people grow smart with experience :D) but here's a quick recap on the need for this post.
If you've ever been in a college/institution or even a particular group of friends, you would have probably come across a lot of phrases/words that mean nothing to you at first. Things like "GG", "Imba" sound like moronic babbling rather than meaningful expressions. (In case you were wondering what those two words mean, please read this - it should help) After a while, you finally begin to understand that people around you are not cretins, but are rather doing what humans do best - evolve a social custom. (What's that? Am I going to get to the point or not? Alright, alright, someone's grumpy!) Well, the point is this: NITK is (almost - don't get me started on what this place lacks with respect to human-resource) no different from any other organised society. We have a set of expressions and idioms that would make absolutely no sense whatsoever to someone on the outside. Here are my favourites:

1. "Well Played": Contrary to popular interpretations, we are not applauding sportsmanship of any kind here. We simply mean that you have successfully done something that you didn't want to other person to know you were doing, without him/her understanding what you intended on doing all along. Confused? The following conversation should make things a bit clear. Person 1 (dying to tell someone about his new shirt): "Hey, is that a new shirt?" Person 2(a little taken aback, because the shirt he is wearing is at least two years old): "No man, it's not. Hey aren't you wearing a new shirt?" Person 1: "Why yes, I am. I didn't even realise" In such a scenario, we say "well-played" (repeatedly) to Person 1.
2. "Awb" or "Ob": This one is quite straightforward. The word is simply a short-form for "obvious". Unfortunately, some people here use it to a level that would make purists of the language bay for their infidel blood. "How's the mess food?" "Awb, man" "How was class?" "Awb" "How was the exam?" "Awb" (though "GG" is an extremely popular substitute here) "How are you feeling?" "Awb" "Are you going out somewhere?" "Awb". Get the picture? It isn't exactly the Queens' English, I'm afraid.
3. "Whursht": This is a derivation from the word "worst", but it is pronounced the way I have spelt it. Basically, it means that something is really, really bad. Not just bad, (we call it "bad" then - we can still talk in usual English, you know) but really horrible. For example: "How was dinner?" "Whursht" - this means that the food was quite simply, hopeless, and you would be wise to avoid it, wallet permitting, of course.
   
4. "Pawned": This word has originated from the gaming world. (DOTA, I think) It essentially means that you've been thoroughly and positively beaten. Apart from "GG" this is another popular word to describe what happens in an examination. An example - "How was the paper?" "Got nicely pawned"

Well, there you have it. A sample of the expressions that we use, and what they actually mean. I'm sure I've missed many, so feel free to add to the list.

C'est La Vie!

It's the most discussed emotion, and perhaps the least understood. It has sunk ships, destroyed cities, dethroned emperors and made many seemingly wise men loose their heads. It is also one of the few things that can't really be bought or inherited. Yes, it's that one incomprehensible, illogical yet mandatory emotion, love.
Heh Heh! How was that introduction? Who says you can't make something seem a lot bigger than what it actually is? Who says you can't make the mundane seem magical? Agreed, the above paragraph was a quite pathetic attempt, but you get the picture. In the hands of a competent writer, anything can be made to be bigger than it actually is. Just ask Bollywood.
But seriously, I'd better get to the point before you start cursing your judgement to read this. (if you're still here, of course :D) This post was inspired by a Wodehouse novel that I was reading. (Damsel in Distress, if anyone's curious) Anyone who has read a few Wodehouse novels will be quite familiar with the general layout of any particular book. Man/Woman falls in love with Woman/Man. Due to an unfortunate set of circumstances, said Man/Woman finds himself/herself betrothed to some poor soul who is in love with yet another person. Throw in a bit of English aristocracy, a rural English castle, and you have the makings of a hilarious, light-hearted yet plausible adventure. One of the many interesting parts to this plot caught my eye in this novel. Whenever the feeling of "love" is described in a Wodehouse novel, it is often accompanied by descriptions of the room spinning around the protagonist, the heavens descending in the form of singing angels, the very ground beneath seeming to give way etc. In short, love is described as something that occurs at first sight. Bang! And you are now "in love". Forget "getting to know" someone or "feeling your way" around. You are supposed to know that you are in love, instantly.
While this concept works wonderfully in the world of fiction, can a scenario like this ever occur in the more prosaic world that we live in? The romantic in me (yes, yes, contrary to popular belief, I'm not made of stone - I do have some semblance of emotion as well) certainly hopes so. The other part of me is highly sceptical. The couples that I've seen come together, have done so through a far more mundane route. Months of seemingly innocent conversation, followed by several more months of waiting while one of the partners gathers the necessary courage to actually do something that could lead to the start of a "relationship". This is followed presumably (I'm barely 21 - most couples I know haven't got much further than the hand-holding stage - I refer to mental progress, not physical) by a few years of "getting to know him/her" and maybe, if all things go well, marriage. That's certainly a far cry from the "love-at-first-sight-live-happily-ever-after" that we are all exposed to in our channels of entertainment. Why is there such a huge gap between fiction and reality? Is it because we would like to make-believe that ours isn't a monotonous, boring and lacklustre world? Or is it because of the fact that love at first sight isn't a myth, just something that is fleetingly rare? I hope that it's the latter, (and I hope that I am, someday, the "lucky one") but I suspect that it's the former. As they say, C'est la vie!

A Good Bookstore (rather, the lack of one)

For those of you who are new here, I study in a college near Mangalore, a city in Karnataka. It's a city like any other, with its own peculiarities, merits and demerits. This post is about something that Mangalore lacks. Apart from the "big-city" feel, (Yes, yes, I know, I know - Bangalore is not exactly a very "happening" place but at least it's alive after 9 PM, which is more than I can say for this place - all that it lacks to complete the ghost-town effect is the howling of wolves :D) Mangalore doesn't seem to have a decent bookstore. (Hey, I like to read, a lot in fact - what's wrong with that? Perfectly normal, which would make a first about me :P) The solitary mall is reasonably well stocked with a wide variety of commodities on offer. (chilled sugarcane juice, anyone?) There's a multiplex, for the creatively starved, (although some of the films make the use of this word very, very generous) good scenery for those in need of aesthetics, (:D) and good food for starving stomachs. (as my sister once put it - anything and everything tastes good after the mess)
One thing sorely missing is a decent bookstore. There are a couple of pretenders, but I seriously doubt whether any self-respecting person would venture to call them "bookstores". That description would be equivalent to calling the Grand Canyon a "hole in the ground" or describing the Eiffel tower as "nifty, but an awful waste of steel". The range of books at these stores is quite pathetic. The owners' literary sense ranges from Mills-and-Boons (seriously, two full racks??? Get a life, please!) to what I like to call "Thrash Fiction" - the very latest in "one-man-one-mission-life-or-death-blah-blah" thrillers. Where is the Wodehouse? Where is the Le Carre? Where is the Julian Barnes, the Sebastian Faulks or even the Ian Rankin?
Alright, I get the fact that my literary taste is unique, (a diplomatic way of putting it :D) and most people would rather run a mile in tight shoes than read some of the books that I like. In fact, most people get the impression that I'm slightly cuckoo, primarily because of the stuff that I read. However, it's what I like. All I'm asking for is a bit of choice. That's it. It's hardly difficult, is it?

Experience and Maturity (or the lack of both :D)

Yes, I know. I seriously need to learn how to come up with better titles for my posts. "Experience and Maturity" - seriously??? Sounds like a bloody platitude. I'm the very last person you should take advice from, believe me. This brings me to my point (I'd bet the word "finally" is going through most people's head right now :D)
Can someone be mature without doing stupid things? The inspiration behind this very irrelevant thought is a conversation I had had with one of my friends. (I have these sort of conversations surprisingly often, given that my EQ is best left undisclosed) During the course of this particular conversation, I picked up on the fact that I may tend to come across as "boring" to most people. (@friend: If you are reading this, no need to clarify your position. I know that "boring" isn't in your description of me ;D) That's true, and I really don't give a damn about it. What was also implied was that I seemed to be "mature" or I had a "level-head". In short, I was the steady, stable guy, as opposed to the "wild" one. Those particular words got me thinking (a sure sign of trouble, isn't it :P) - Can someone be mature without having done stupid things? By "stupid things" I mean the sort of things 20-year-olds do behind their parents' back - dope, booze, sex etc. (Just to clarify, my view on these things is very liberal - You want to do something, go ahead and do it. None of my concern, and I'm nobody to judge) Do you need to actually do these things and then stop doing them, (paradoxical, right?) before you can say that you have grown wiser? Does the saying "wise men learn from others' mistakes" apply here? Or do you need to learn from your own mistakes?
If it's the latter case, I guess I have the maturity of a toddler. (coupled with the emotional range of a teaspoon, it makes for a great combination - just ask some of my friends :D) Heck, even if it's the former, I don't think I've actually learned much - I still feel like I'm fifteen years old, at best. I most definitely don't look any older.

Smile a Little!

Have you noticed something strange about certain people (I don't have anyone specific in mind, just a certain class of people, of either sex, in case you were wondering... :D)? Smile at them, and all you get in response is a determined look in the other direction. This is often coupled with an expression that seems to be comparing you with the scum-at-the-bottom-of-the-pond, or worse, the-dirt-underfoot. I just don't get it. Why can't people smile back? It's not like their precious smile is a limited commodity, to be doled out sparingly, at best. And it's not as if I'm a walking freak-show, to be avoided like the bloody plague.
Come on, all I'm asking for is a bit of civil conduct, nothing more. I'm a human being, just like you. I don't expect anything from you. If I want something, I'll ask. Then you can look away and frown. But if I just smile at you, basic courtesy says that you smile back. I may not know you from Tom, Dick or Harry, (or the female equivalent, if you prefer) but I expect a certain level of civilisation from you. It's what separates you and me from the animals.
In case the above paragraphs seem to be written in anger, nothing could be further from the truth. It's more pity than anything else, to see that we've "advanced" to a stage where we don't seem to want to acknowledge a stranger's (sometimes it isn't even a stranger) presence. All we care about is ourselves, our small circle of friends, (if that at all) along with our petty lives. Sad.

Diplomacy

This post was inspired by an article I read. (It's a relatively short post - that should keep your agony to a bare minimum :P)

One of my friends had written on how she speaks without thinking and hence gets into trouble. I really can sympathise. My nature (ask my friends for further details - you'll probably get angry rants, diplomatic silences or simple dismissals - "Who, him? Sucks!") is something that could be best described as naively honest. I really don't pay attention to what I say or when I say it. As a result, I'm prone to saying the wrong things at the worst possible times. It has gotten me into trouble several times, often for the silliest of reasons. What's the option? Be diplomatic? Sure, that could work. However, the way I see it, a lot of diplomatic people make for a very boring/irritating group. Each member will keep tripping over the other, in order to be politically correct. Fruitful discussions would be impossible, with no one person willing to criticize the other. The way I see it, sometimes, in order to gain something from a discussion, a spade needs to be called, well, a spade. The proverbial elephant in the room needs to be spoken about. You can't simply ignore it, expecting it to slink away unnoticed. (The imagery on this one is hilarious - just visualize it :D)

It's sad how everyone says they appreciate honesty, when all they actually prefer is mild flattery. Disguising your true feelings in what others really want to hear, rather than simply expressing them, does indeed work. I guess that's what diplomacy is all about.

A Matter of Change

No, this post is not about something important/relevant/serious. The title is misleading, as usual.
It's about a strange thing that I've noticed in people. It's got to do with that fact that NOBODY, ever gives me change for a 100 rupee note. Whether I ask a shopkeeper, hawker, auto-driver, bus-conductor (who by simple deduction should have LOADS of change) or even well-dressed passers-by, the result is the same. They look at me as if I'm selling contraband (Psst... wanna buy some stuff???) and shake their heads. (I'd use a few choice words to describe their heads, but that's the subject of another post) At first I thought that it was the fact that I was speaking English that was the problem. Nope! Kannada and Hindi requests (yes, yes, laugh away - but I do speak other languages, and quite legibly at that) end up eliciting the same damn response.
For heavens' sake! it's not as if I'm giving them a fake note. They can check it if they like. It's as easy as holding the thing up against the light and looking at the conspicuous security thread. The note is most definitely genuine. This isn't the 60s anymore, where a Rs 100 note was a rare item, prone to forgery. Further more, do I look capable of a crime? I mean, seriously, look closer. I barely look 18, let alone a hardened forger.
What then, is the issue with helping someone acquire a bit of change? From any angle, changing notes looks beneficial to all the parties concerned. Person A in need of change, gets it and Person B replaces a bundle of notes with a single note. (highly beneficial, considering the fact that Person B a.k.a shopkeeper/conductor/hawker has an excess of change, which he/she isn't possibly going to need) I've tried to come up with an explanation, but I can't seem to find anything apart from the fact that people are just plain rude.