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The Daily Olympics

A pretty cool magazine by some very cool people ..

Football has the full spectrum. I am talking about all the emotions one can experience.

My beloved Chelsea were robbed of revenge and salvation in the 93rd minute of a football match.

The investment of emotions, time, energy, prayers, wishes, curses, spells, charms, dedication, loyalty yields .. another tear.

After last year, we almost managed what we had set out to achieve .. almost.

Heartbreak.

For those of you who are going to give me the ‘Barca tried to play football’ line – you know where to stick it.

Norwegian referee. Absolutely horrendous.

I am stunned.

Where does Chelsea go from here? Where do I go from here?

For those of you who are going to give me the ‘It is just a game’ line – stick it where the last one went ..

So that is how the cookie crumbles ..

Do I know what will happen next? I can only wonder ..

Though I know I will invest emotions, time, energy, prayers, wishes, curses, spells, charms, dedication, loyalty for Chelsea next year as well .. with a smile.

Happy new year, happy eid, happy holi .. happy all closed and restricted holidays!!

Does anybody around here blog anymore?!?

Whatever happened to the humourous writing? the biting satire? the alternative viewpoint ..

I guess the answer – third year of engineering for some and a job in the IT industry for others ..

Anyhow, here is an old bit, revisited, for your pleasure .. enjoy

YOU MUST WATCH THESE VIDEOS – for the post to mean anything !! Don’t assume you know the joke .. just watch it !!

and a continuation of that .. I never learn?

Enough !!

Must each one of you treat women like objects?? !!

Must you feel uneasy and ridicule those who do not fit the mould, of society?? !! 

This exercise has proven, men and women, neither can look past a woman’s ..

Yes, I am talking about you ..

You must rise above this petty scrutinization of – ‘what we have’ and ‘what we don’t’ .. ‘what we desire’ and ‘what is beyond desires’ ..

Hence, I shall now present a ’sanitized’ version of the web-comic that was ‘perverted’ by your interpretations ..

Harish wooing (but respectfully) .. woo hari woo ..

 

Punch - line !! (Or not - Somewhere, Trevor just realized that his voice is not audible to me..)

 
Maybe, just maybe .. everyone has been pwned ?? !!

P.s. – 40 days, 20 exams !! We are like this only !! Engineering can push one to the edge ..

P.p.s – Me has returned from the hills !! Loads of tales ..

Ladies and gentlemen, I am no longer a web-comic virgin ..

–

This one is titled – “Stud Muffin and the Computer Malady”

Harish wooing .. woo hari woo

 

Punch - line !! (Or not - Somewhere, Trevor says - I am your conscience ..)

Ok, its open season now .. shoot !!

I was up for an MRI scan recently. Slight niggle in the back owing to all the exuberant and effusive antics on the football pitch, lifting heavy things and BAD posture. I am doing some more of the latter while typing this post here.

Anyhow, most people react to, or explain, MRI machines with wide eyed fascination and wonder. The notion of being gobbled up i.e. going inside the machine never ceases to enthrall. The instructions also get a few raised eyebrows. Essentially there is only one important instruction – very little clothes and nothing metallic i.e. no cellphones, watches, clothes with metal, chains, rings etc. as they will most likely melt. Also credit cards are not allowed too, not that I would be using one when almost in the buff.

MRI man: That is the changing room. Remove your shirt, jeans and underclothes.

Me: All my underclothes? Under .. em?

MRI man: NO ! Don’t remove that.

Me: Socks?

MRI man: (The look basically said, stop asking me questions about your clothes).

Me: Right.

I was told to lie on a thinnish bed. My head was fixed into position using plastic clamps and I had two probes on my back. Ever so swiftly I was whisked into the machine and told NOT TO MOVE !

I was stuck in a cylindrical chamber where I was practically kissing the ceiling. His instruction seemed a little unnecessary considering the fact that walking out of the MRI room entailed the formation of a ‘Dinesh Kapur’ shaped hole in the machine.

The machine whirred to life.

I had absolutely no idea that the hospital was hosting a ‘Techo-beats’ party nearby !! From the moment the process began till the time I staggered out of the machine and almost keeled over twice, I heard all kinds of beats !!

MRI machine: TRONIC -TRONIC – TRONIC – TRONIC – TRONIC – TRONIC ..

Me: Why?

MRI machine: OOPCHICK – OOPCHICK – OOPCHICK – OOPCHICK – OOPCHICK – OOPCHICK ..

Me: Aargh .. !!

MRI machine: TI DI TEE – TI DI TEE – TI DI TEE – TI DI TEE – TI DI TEE – TI DI TEE ..

(A few minutes later)

MRI machine and me (in unison): TRONIC – TRONIC – TRONIC – TRONIC – TRONIC – TRONIC ..

MRI machine: TRONIC – TRONIC – TRONIC ..

Me: OOPCHICK – OOPCHICK – OOPCHICK ..

After about 10 minutes I decided not jam with the machine.

Since I had the luxury of absolutely nothing to do, I started thinking about any and everything that came to my mind. That was interspersed with urging and reassuring myself that jumping through the machine when it BEEPS LOUDLY !! is not a wise option. I made a very conscious effort to not move even a hair. Such are, however, the opportune moments when people like

Mr. Faceitch – an itch on the face

Miss WeirdShiver – inexplicable shivers and jerks running down the body

Miss Sneezelady – completely inexplicable sneeze

and their ilk, pay a visit.

The thing about moving whilst in the machine – is that the cycle needs to be repeated as the images blur, which implies more minutes jamming inside and with the machine. So I initiated a sneeze shutdown sequence in my head among other completely useless things as I lay looking at the thin blue line on the upper wall.

I was in the machine for 45 minutes !! I ran out of thoughts !! After the first 30 odd minutes my mind was more empty than a vacuum and my body was numb. Thinking about it makes me want to go for a couple of laps around the campus.

Anyhow, after the whirring and purring I stumbled out of the machine, got dressed and walked towards college and other more routine things.

Of course “TRONIC TRONIC OOPCHICK TRONIC OOPCHICK TI DI OOPCHICK TEE” was playing in my head as I boarded the bus and asked for a ticket up to ‘Ordinance Depot’

Conductor: Punzabi Bagh tak jaayegi bus !!

The rain had just begun. He picked up his pace. He was hoping to catch one of the quicker buses to his destination. Out of the corner of his eye, and through the veil of his perception he saw another man struggling. The rain had picked up too. He stopped to observe this individual. Cars zipped past him. Was he in a state of apprehension?

“Excuse me, can I help you.”

“(Hesitantly) – Ah yes, um, actually I need to cross the road, but you will get wet in the rain.”

“It doesn’t matter, let’s go.”

“(Gratefuly) – Thank you so much. So, where are you going?”

“I am going that way.”

“Then we are going in the opposite direction. This is out of the way for you.”

“Not at all, I will catch a bus from there.”

“So, where do you live?”

“Somewhere around this region. 7-8 kilometers from here. Do you want to take the escalator or the ramp?”

“The escalator will do, I think.”

During their conversation, the two negotiated NUMEROUS sidewalk ledges (climbing up and down), cars and awkwardly placed sign/advertisement boards to make their way to the foot-over bridge. Just as the relevance of the questions picked up, the instructions and cautions to avoid obstacles came thick and fast. They picked up their pace. One in the lead, with the other almost struggling to keep up. One focussed on getting to the destination, the other preoccupied. Since, they were concentrating on their steps, the questions faded. They reached the foot of the escalator.

“We are at the escalator.”

“(Attentively) Ok.”

“Take your step now. Bye.”

I was too caught up in the crossfire of emotions going through my head. I felt discomfort, guilt, contentment, confusion – all at the same time. As I saw him ascend, his face contorted with an impulse of fear. He looked deserted. I realized, I had helped him onto the escalator, but how would he get off? A heavy rush came between us and I couldn’t get onto the steps, leave aside forcing my way through the crowd. I couldn’t see him. I just prayed he would be alright.
He did not know he had to turn right after getting off the moving stairs. He walked straight. Slowly, with caution. I realized he was making his way back down to the side where he started from.

My work was far from over. I scurried towards the ramp, ran up to the second level where he had stopped. He realized he was going the wrong way. He turned slowly. I quickly rejoined him.

“Sorry for leaving you like that, I got a little confused.”

“(Relieved) Its alright. So where are you going? Do you study somewhere here?”

“I am going to my college. It is a considerable distance from here.”

“(Hopefully) – Do you travel everyday?”

“Yes, but the time varies.”

“(Slightly dejected) – You must be running late?”

“Nah, I have plenty of time. I’ll get you to the other side first.”

We crossed sides, and got off the correct ramp. I was probably walking too fast for his comfort. He never complained. He was grateful. We reached the other side. I asked a sensible looking fellow to help the man onto a suitable bus. I bid him farewell. He thanked me, he said goodbye. I walked away.

I realized, I had not handled the situation in the best possible way, but my intentions were good. I was awed by the situation. I was trying to be too nice, too gracious almost to the extent of showing pity for this stranger. In retrospect, I came to the understanding that while asking me all those questions he was hoping our travel timings or route would match. My reading of the situation could be absolutely wrong. Maybe he was simply being nice.

I and many I know, complain about traveling long distances. We complain about the lack of a routine, of comfortable transportation and so much more.

The man I helped today had impaired vision.

I wonder how he feels each day. We should be grateful for the blessings we have and enjoy. I was humbled today. I deserve no praise, no credit for what I did. In reality, I am guilty for not having done something like this earlier in my life. The state is guilty for turning a blind eye towards its responsibilities. Society is guilty. I wonder how he travels on days when fools don’t ‘help’ him cross the road.

What kind of world do we live in? We all have our own destiny, they say ..

SCENE 1 (Telephone Conversation with Anupam Guha)

While I am expounding my views on personality traits, Anupam interrupts me hastily and blurts – “Listen I have to put this down, my girlfriend is calling, I will talk to you later.”

Click.

This, ladies and gentleman, is the same Anupam Guha who has a reputation that suggests, once he is entrenched in a conversation, he will only ‘put it down’ if his cellphone battery dies out or, heaven forbid, he or the other person kicks the bucket.

He called me three days later !! WTF? That must have been one long conversation.

SCENE TWO (Telephone conversation with Harish Alagappa)

Me: Hey, hows it going?

THF: (Hesitantly) Ah, nothing.

Me: Where are you?

THF: South Delhi. (Hanging out with his love interest)

Me: Hmm, anyway, I have an interesting tale I would like to tell you.

THF: (Decisively) Listen, if this is something long then it will have to wait. If it is short and sweet, then maybe I can listen to it.

Me: WHAT !! WTF?

THF: I am little busy right now.

Me: Screw you, don’t treat me talk to me as if I am your mistress !! Short and sweet, jeez !!

Click.

This, ladies and gentleman, is the same Harish Alagappa, who would answer my calls by saying – “Good thing you called, I was getting bored”

He did not call me back. For him, balance is something one keeps after one gets drunk. Why waste it by keeping some in his cellphone?

SCENE THREE
(Manisha has my eyes covered with her hands and asks me to ‘guess who’)

Guha: So, my understanding of your personality was correct. You use your animal magnetism to attract pretty girls.

Me: You, sir, are obviously deranged.

Guha: Really, then why were girls from your class groping you?

Me: Yeah right ! So that is exactly why she went on a date with her boyfriend (who does not happen to be me) after I guessed who she was.

Guha: Boyfriend?

Me: And its not me !

Manisha and her love interest ride into the sunset. Leaving my eyes open to the sight of numerous other couples lurking about.

***

People call me when you are done !!

We all have our favourite superheroes while growing up. Boys more so than girls (just an observation, not a claim). Growing up, specifically for the privileged, does entail the thrill of reading the tales of your superhero kick some villain butt. The glossy and colorful illustrations, the speech and thought clouds, moving between frames .. in essence the comic book experience goes a long way in endearing kids to their favourite crime fighter, or in some cases, criminal even. Television shows and movies have taken that one step further.

Thanks to the captivating comic books, action figures, movies and other forms of marketing genius (biscuits, cornflakes etc.) most kids go to bed dreaming of waking up with super powers – the ability to fly, to scale buildings, shoot lasers with a look or a wave of the hand.

Some of the desired superpowers do change from time to time – being able to ‘look through walls‘ is replaced by the ability to ‘look through clothes‘ or simply just ‘walking through‘ anything – remember Thing from the Fantastic Four. Some of the other more popular freakish abilities are superhuman strength, control over – ice, fire, water, wind and other forces of nature, surviving like Tintin, kicking ass like asterix and among others the ability to stretch – he he.

As I lay incapacitated owing to illness I began wondering what kind of superhero theme would suit me. Most kids go to bed dreaming about – a nice juicy bite by a spider from outer space, flying off the roof while wearing red underwear on blue tights, copulating with a bat (or other mammals). Kids are stupid enough to hope that their first chemistry experiment of mixing salt in warm water will give them the ability to fly !! Idiots.
After intense deliberation I realized I already have a superpower ! I am a superhero !

It stems from an active upper respiratory tract. I am allergic to anything that can cause an allergy. If you have an allergen friend which has lost confidence in its abilities as an allergen, send them over to me – in matter of seconds I’ll be spraying drops of sneeze all over the place.

Yes, ladies and gentleman – I am Sneeze Man !! I have the power of unlimited Mucus in my nasal linings – how cool is that !! Its true – If we can convert mucus into a usable byproduct, I have enough mucus to solve the world’s water and food crisis – (hey, I have seen Trevor pick his nose and enjoy the after taste) – and be left with a sufficient amount to address the fuel situation too.

Hec, I have sneezed 10 times while writing this piece here.

I am lucky I have realized the presence of this hidden talent now, because I have been sneezing incessantly lately and I feel I am hitting my prime. All I need is an outfit and a multi-million dollar deal with Marvel Comics or Raj Comics (whoever comes first).

I will have to iron out a few details though, my action figure will have a faucet instead of a nose – lets make that a leaky faucet. My catchphrase – “When crime is near, sneeze spray will drench your fear.”

You reckon the meds and the nozey have gone to the head? Oh, I can feel it coming, this is gonna be a big one – clear the decks – sneeze on its way !!

P.s. – What kind of superhero does this logic make, a certain Nimish Batra?

There are very few sights more humbling than the view from atop the geological wonders of nature, the hills.

Peering at the valley, the vast tracts of land below, the steep descent, the lush greenery, the countless trees, the gushing streams of water with clouds dancing around your face is a sight to behold.

Its moments like these that open your eye to the immense power, breathtaking beauty, sheer enormity and mercy of – nature or the universe or the almighty – you take your pick.

***

You know you are in for an interesting vacation when your trip starts in the following manner.

Place : Railway Station, Kalka

Date : 20th June 2008

I was standing in the queue to get a refund for the narrow gauge train which links Kalka to Shimla as our wait-listed seats were not confirmed before departure.

I was standing behind,

A) A typical European tourist in India – Huge backpacks of luggage, cautious and apprehensive viz. a viz. Indian people and the vicinity – with a serious look about himself.

B) An excitable, smug, overtly helpful Indian tourist – Sunglasses on his head, hilarious looking shorts – he was probably Bengali.

The foreigner was filling in one of those ridiculously flimsy rail reservation forms, with the Indian meticulously studying every detail of his form.

Indian – Today eez 19 not 20th

Foreigner – Sorry?

Indian – Sign your phorm ! It is not signed. Going to Shimla? It is bherry crowded these days.

Foreigner – Huh?

Indian – Where are you from?

Foreigner – Scotland. I am Scottish.

Indian – O-ho, thats why, you don’t know English na ..

Indignant Scotsman – I do know English !!

I got my money back after a Rs.40 deduction (processing charges) and a good laugh.

Our trek up the hills began in the wee morning hours. I am not particularly fond of high altitudes. To be honest, I am petrified when on those narrow hill roads. In true mischievous spirit the forces contrived to make the route foggy in mid June ! Anyhow, the fog cleared up and we were driven up the winding roads with me clutching at the seat, ‘pushing’ the car left or right with my hands, ‘holding’ it up if we stopped for one of those large intimidating trucks to pass.

I tried the usual psychology and reverse psychology, looking up at the highest peeks or looking the ravines straight in the eye. I quickly settled for looking at the road only.

Our first stop was a temple which had an extremely steep climb of around 3km. The vehicle growled and grunted as we made the ascent. We were probably the first devotees of the day and place looked serene and peaceful sans the hustle and bustle of the tourists. I worked the camera, tried a few innovative angles and in general soaked in the calming environs. The world seemed to be at our feet, quite literally.

The next stop was the Indian Institute of Advanced Studies (IIAS) – one of the two best places we visited. The institute occupied the premises of the once famous Viceregal Lodge.
For those of you who are interested, the Viceregal Lodge was the premises for a number of pacts and conferences during India’s freedom struggle and even after Independence. It was built in 1888 as the residence of Viceroy Lord Dufferin. Even in the year 1888 this Lodge had electric lighting, a first in Shimla. Most of the electrical fittings in the building date back to the year of its construction. The lodge is fitted with facilities one would consider luxuries in this day and age. Hey, how many buildings do you know that were built in the 19th century and had separate rooms of linen, china, glass, an enormous wine cellar have, indulge yourself, an indoor tennis court!

Now called Rashtrapati Niwas, the Lodge houses the Indian Institute of Advanced Study (IIAS). In 1965, then President of India, Dr. S Radhakrishnan, and Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru decided to convert the building into center for scholastic brilliance, a retreat, so to speak for the erudite.
Its importance reflects in the fact that it is the only building in Shimla that occupies an entire hill all by itself.
Before moving further we stopped for a very quick, yet large bite. We were fortunate enough to grab a few things from Pinjore/Panchkula before we began the upward journey. Appetites grow at higher altitudes. There were plenty of places to eat – good and inexpensive – so one needn’t necessarily lug food. Also, a healthy population of monkeys roam the hills, so you are better off eating where the masses eat.

P.s.

1) The Trip continues in another post.

2) The chap was probably Bengali because he was speaking the language, not because it is a jab/barb or because I want to hurt sentiments.

3) The trip was only two days long, haven’t been posting because of summer training and I have been under the weather lately. I have 5 drafts and 2 posts with ‘to be continued’ messages on them. Yes, I am lazy !!