Beyond the Influence of Reason

RG770

2011-09-15T12:40:00.000+05:30

I just bought an Ibanez '93 RG770 off ebay, these are prized beauties that are very underrated. Mine comes with the original Ibanez/USA pups, the oh so buttery smooth Lo Pro Edge and with the original wizard edge. Can't wait till it gets here, but I already know that I won't be disappointed.

Cheers.

Starting today.

2011-07-17T08:42:00.005+05:30

Illustrations and lettering by SlipperyReflections

Headrush!

2011-04-23T07:31:00.000+05:30

First, the boring bit:

On day three (and a half) of my program, my blood is being cleansed of the carbon monoxide (CO) and other impurities improving its ability to carry oxygen, this is making me feel lightheaded and dizzy every time I get up. I am fighting off very strong cravings and experiencing fever like symptoms as my body gets accustomed to no nicotine. Well, they said that the more you smoke, the harder it will be when you quit, and for someone who just quit a 2 pack a day routine since the last 2 years, I think I am in for a long ride. Hope it gets easier as time progresses.

Now,

I went to sleep drunk last night, I had a normal dreamless sleep until I found myself in one. I was with two other people-people whom I think I was familiar with, within the dream. I don't know who they were though. I am in a crowded part of some city purportedly somewhere in the US. Suddenly, I look to the sky and see the ominous shape of a mushroom cloud in the distance, it is brief and lights up the night like the way lightning usually does.

I immediately think to myself; "They did it, there is nothing I can do now, a few more seconds" I feel angry, like I know who did it, angry at their stupidity, angry at the fact that I had no choice in this matter. I also felt like I had some premonition of this happening. But I never thought it would actually happen, nuclear war? The destruction of humanity? That was the stuff the people at r/conspiracy like to talk about.

I am going to die! You know... when you are young, you never really think about dying, right? It's a long way away, no need to worry about it now. I, however, am paranoid about it and think about it a lot and quite frankly I am terrified of it. I am getting scared and I go and hug these two people, because I suddenly feel like their company will give me some courage, and wait. I can't call my parents because it is too late, there isn't enough time.

And I close my eyes as I feel the shock wave getting closer. And strangely, I am suddenly curious, I want to know what it feels like to die. Maybe my subconscious mind knows and will accordingly make this dream play out. I feel the wave hit, and my mind suddenly feels light and I feel like I am stoned, very strongly stoned, and then... I open my eyes. Sunlight. Blue blanket. 2011. MBA. GPA. Right.

pira?

2011-04-22T12:09:00.000+05:30

It's been so long, does it even matter? Let's just say that equinoxes have changed and the poles have traded places. Ah, vodka, how I love your soul! she is the culprit, like I told you so. Maybe, I see a diversion, a scenic route! but we will end up at the same place. That's plagiarized.

Anyway, enough with that cryptic crap, I have embarked on, what is ostensibly, a long journey towards quitting smoking. I have been nicotine free since the past 2 days, and boy can I tell you it is hard! I have no one else to turn to and so I turn to you, while I try to survive through what is, at least in my mind, one of the hardest things I will ever do.

The cravings are strong and the ever increasing stress is making it so much tougher to carry on. But I promise to submit updates regarding my 'smoking cessation endeavor' :D

In other news, I will be moving to Detroit in May as an intern at a company there. I think that a big depression is around the corner and that you should purchase canned/dried food as Inflation is going to fuck the middle class in the ass, if you know what I mean ;)

Just to fuck with you, here is a short story:

Aaaaaaaaaa... Maybe some other day ;D

ONOZ, Teh internetz is scareee and doesn't afraid of anything!!!

2010-12-01T11:34:00.000+05:30

So, I used to be a very patriotic kid, I remember standing up regardless of my surroundings whenever the national anthem used to be played/sung.

I grew out of that phase pretty soon, realizing that the fact that I was born in India was just random chance, a bit like I felt when I realized that I was born into my religion by pure chance. Now both religion and patriotism are ghosts of the past.

But today, I chanced upon some videos on youtube of my first language (In India we call it the 'mother tongue') - Tulu. It is a Dravidian language spoken by a mere 2 million people in the world. And, after years of shunning any other language other than English, it actually felt good to watch a video with my mother tongue being spoken in it. At first I couldn't catch what was being said, but in a while, my ears got used to it, and I understood what was going on.

And then I did a google search for 'learn tulu' and guess what, there was even an ehow article that gave URLs where you could go and learn it.

The internet is truly scary!

surprise repost

2010-10-11T17:09:00.003+05:30

Repost from last year, why? because I still think it is pertinent and accurately portrays my opinion. (and also, I find it funny)

--------------------------

India.

My Great Country!

~~4000~~ ~~3000~~ ~~7000~~ heck I don't know lets just say 6000 years old!

'invented' the zero

Future Economic power

Largest Democracy

Friendly People

Bullshit!

India, the 'bulund bharat' the land of peace and prosperity. The one that people like Max Mueller and Francois Gautier fell in love with. The land of non-violence, where kids respect their elders and women are treated like gods, where the gods are merciful and the water; clear. Let us see what people have done to it.

Now, it will be impossible to have a comprehensive list of all the things that I want to talk about so I will focus on the ones that come to mind and will add the rest as they arrive. I don't get paid to write this, but I want you to read it. I want it to enter the collective conscious.

1) Athiti devo Bhava

Which is in sanskrit, that almost meta-physical language, the devbhash: the language of the gods, an almost purely synthetic language with an astonishingly modern structure to its grammar, it translates to this: "The Guest is equivalent to God" or something similar. My high school Sanskrit is quite weak as I studied it for just two years in Mangalore.

This saying is a part of the national identity, we are proud of this fact and realize that it is an uncommon sentiment, one that merits admiration from the rest of the peoples of the world. Heck, we even welcomed the Central Asian hoards who basically pillaged the entire subcontinent for a few hundred years.

That we still follow this tenet is remarkable, I have placed a map below to illustrate how we put this ancient, nay! over 6000 year old principle to practical use, thereby cementing our nation's place as one of the leaders of the future:

This is a map which shows the states that have the tourist police stationed there. Tourist police who? I don't really know, I had never heard of them, apparently they do exist. All of these states reported Cases of Rape and Molestation of Tourists in 2008, this does not mean that the other states did not. The article that I 'borrowed' it from states that the 'tourist police' is quite impotent or shall I say 'spunkless?'

Remember Bittu Mohanty? the rapist son of a DGP of police who raped a German Woman and then skipped bail? Whatever happened to him? I guess he must be stalking some other tourist to have his way with. A cursory search on google gives the following results:

No less than the Supreme Court of our country moved to stay his father's arrest, even though he was the one who posted his son's bail and I assume that he would have given some sort of surety. So there, fuck you OJ, we can do the same here in India.

Interesting to note is the result at the bottom which tries to make it look like the case was blown out of proportion just because of the victim's skin color, because you see, otherwise, getting raped is no big deal. Try telling that to the families of the victims.

Awww... Don't call it rape, it is not rape, we here in the department like to call it 'surprise sex' It is harmless, really and besides those white women were asking for it. Also, see this train? do you know why its windows are shut? * wink* * wink*

Perhaps the ultimate clincher for the police is the peculiarly Indian; experience, wherein the second one sees a policeman, one starts to feel guilty. And if you are involved in an incident when one decides to arrive, then god help you.

Amusing Anecdote #1: The other day, a drunk man entered our garden to lie down. After repeated attempts to evict him proved futile and instead made him belligerent, I called the police number 100. The guy picked up after 2 minutes and upon my explanation, said that he would send the police and cut the call before I had a chance to tell him my address. And that was it. They never came. Or they went to someone else's home.

bored

2010-10-09T23:03:00.003+05:30

I originally wanted to draw a small comic strip, but since I couldn't draw a decent line to save my skin, I decided instead to turn it into a written piece, now bear in mind that I came up with this when I was in NY recently with my Student run equity Fund with whom I am an analyst, so it might not be funny to you because we are in the business of predicting stock movements blah blah blah...

So here goes...

Cast

Investment Banking Guy who is full of himself referred to as Prima

Old Gypsy Woman who runs a psychic cart on a NY street referred to as Secunda

----------------

Prime: (Walks up to Secunda's cart) I have a question for you, tell me whether I will pay you

Secunda: (Takes out a gun and points it at him) Yes.

Prima: You're good!, here, have my wallet.

FIN

yaw yaw yaw

2010-09-19T02:17:00.001+05:30

Will be back to regular blogging from next week onwards. Lots of things have happened since I last wrote. Till then... take care.

Hiatus much?

2010-07-31T07:52:00.002+05:30

Well, I am sorry about my lack of posts this week, I had a very bad case of viral fever that prevented me from even switching on my laptop. I should get back to regular posting from this Sunday onwards.

Hope you all have a good weekend, I know mine is going to be shitty.

Dream

2010-07-02T06:59:00.001+05:30

The waves have now subsided.

The tempest is long gone;

consigned to the lanes of history,

and the flame burns no more.

A critiquALL GLORY TO THE HYPNOTOAD!!!

2010-06-25T22:33:00.003+05:30

A conversation I had with a classmate recently went somewhat like this...

Me: So there I was looking at the official website of the interpol, and I saw their wanted list, where they have pictures of the criminals. And they had the same chick twice with the same name and only the d.o.b was different. One stated 4 March and the other one 3 April, so you see what went on there, it's because you Americans use such a funny date format.

Him: Wait, what were you doing on the interpol website?

Me: Oh, uh... I was looking to see if I was in it.

Him: What?

Me: Yeah, I once shot a man in Reno just to watch him die.

Him: WTF?

Me: Yeah, you know... Johnny Cash? No? Dammit, no one gets it.

Him: You were just trying to see if there were any attractive women on the wanted list huh?

Me: Yeah :| what can I say? I don't know how to justify it. Fuck you man!

Him; haha!

----------------------------------------------------

In other news, Futurama is back with Season 6 and I like the first two episodes very much. I am so glad they bought it back. Futurama is my all time favorite show, nothing can compare to its meta-humor, physics references and general nerdiness. Nothing! And I think the reason I like it so much is because my humor resembles its the most. So which show do you think your humor most closely matches?

And people... That was not a rhetorical question. Spend a minute or two and reply you lazy ass bums!

Also, you can see my mood has considerably improved the last few hours, I think this time it will last for a while. Until someone comes along and messes it up again that is.

Baby Me

2010-06-16T21:57:00.003+05:30

When I was younger and I mean like 9-10 I used to live in Saudi Arabia where I attended the Indian Embassy School in Dhahran. My Dad used to work there as a Radiologist and my mom used to teach at my school.

I was a good student even then, the days spent reading books from the library instead of out playing with the other kids meant that often, I would already know more about a topic than the rest of the class. I remember now, they used to call me 'scientist' which is funny considering how I am studying Finance right now.

Anyway, they would have these yearly meetings where the parents would come and meet the teachers and could get an update as to how their child was faring at school. And every year they would say the same thing about me; "Oh yes, he is very bright, and does well in school, but he is always day dreaming in class" Now because of this, my parents eventually stopped going because there was nothing new they'd ever say.

A consequence of this was that my parents would always ask why I would day dream in class, and I never could answer them. They eventually started asking me whether I was worried about my wife and kids that I had left back in India. Needless to say the thought of marrying a girl and having kids is not a great one for a 10 year old boy who still hasn't developed an interest in women. I mean this was still the 'girls have cooties' days.

this is what I looked like back then, a far cry from now :)

As I have grown up, this day dreaming has somewhat gone away and in its stead I have a new hobby. When I like something, I concentrate totally on it, its like I get a single minded devotion toward achieving what I want, and this is good when it means I study well or end up doing something worthwhile. The problem is that when I am like this, I obsess over my goal, trying to make sure that everything goes according to plan. And I don't use that word 'obsess' lightly, I seriously over-think like crazy to a point where I start annoying people.

They still ask me this question(about my still non-existent wife and kids) and I laugh. This tells me that they still think of me as their little awkward kid. I love them for this :)

Anyway, this obsessing is apparently a form of OCD (self-diagnosed)

And this is all that I wanted to say.

Critique in College Park

2010-06-10T06:40:00.005+05:30

I am currently reading Joe Sacco's 'Footnotes in Gaza' a sort of follow up to his previous book 'Palestine' This is more centered around a particular incident when the Israelis killed a few hundred young men in Gaza in the mid-fifties. Like in his previous book, Sacco is a little biased against the Israelis but he has acknowledged this, so I think I can let that slide.

The art is in his usual style, and is very impressive, and he has the talents of a good writer, making this a great book to read, especially if you want to know how life in the Gaza strip is. It's got the same horror/sob stories meant for you to be able to sympathize with the plight of the refugees. This is a bit sensationalist but then again, maybe all he is doing is telling it like it is.

Just to give you a taste of his meticulously drawn art.

I like reading this stuff because it makes me feel like I am there, and since the possibility of my actually going to Gaza is pretty slim, this is the best I can do. I feel like a voyeur :)

I think it speaks to my desire to experience the world and see the myriad cultures that inhabit it. It's a crying shame that I will never get to do it. Oops there I go again, trying to turn this post into another one of my existential rants. Which is funny because I remember back in my engineering undergrad days when I would anonymously post stuff on our online message board and people would ask me why I keep turning everything into an existential soliloquy.

There is nothing more 'intelligent' that I can say about this so I will leave it at that.

don't go away, and come again another day

2010-05-28T08:26:00.003+05:30

I am still reading the essay that I am going to write a synopsis for, it is more like a novel than an essay, and add to the fact that it is a philosophical essay, means that each sentence needs to be dissected and thought about before I can move on, hence, it is not going to be done for some time at the least and this is especially so because I am back on an anime binge right now, just started watching bleach after having finished Basilisk, which I would recommend to you if are into this sort of a thing.

I am in Herndon, VA right now, at my uncle's place, and there's a thunder storm brewing here, just the perfect weather for a night out watching some good anime on a nice comfy bed under a warm duvet. But the unfortunate part is that unlike in India when such weather usually means loud thunder and the pitter patter of the rain on the roof and the whirring of the fan and the sweet sweet smell of moist soil, here it usually means a slight smell of gasoline, muffled thunder and maybe the quiet wheezing of the air conditioning. Because most American houses are so well insulated and the windows are usually so thick, you cant hear anything :(

Indian houses on the other hand are usually very well ventilated, we never keep our windows closed except in the summer when we use the AC, and the roofs are usually flat and we invariably have terraces (where we as kids often play cricket), and this is unlike here where the roofs are mostly sloping in order to accommodate the snow and rain. So, in India, such weather usually means a respite from the heat in the form of a cool, and crisp but fiery draft of wind that smells like a piece of heaven, and the noise of street dogs howling in the distance, add to this the smell of wood burning in make shift fires and you have your very own dream.

And you could attribute this view of mine to bias, but ask anybody and many will call me a self hating Indian because I criticize my country so much, but this is one aspect where I have to admit that living in India is clearly more romantic than living in the US

Here is a shot from my terrace in India:

My Terrace:

Heavy rain on a cold September morning.

And my favorite; rain clouds gather over my house.

dancing in the dark and a fugue in the fall

2010-05-27T15:00:00.004+05:30

Warning: Graphic language in this post. Also, I might sound like I am gay-bashing, but let me assure you that I totally support their cause, and that I think they should be allowed to do what they want to do. or succinctly 'not gay but supportive' - a phrase I borrow form Demetri Martin. Civil liberties must never be impinged on. And, oh yeah, while I am at it; screw the government! and fuck Apple! as well.

----------------------------------------------------

So there I was right? minding my own business, stumbling around, failing hard but failing quietly; unnoticed by anyone, well.. anyone who is a somebody at least, when all of a fucking sudden, out of the blue; bam! this person starts hitting on me.

What the fuck? I mean...wait a minute. This is surely not happening, not to me at least. I am not that guy, you know the guy that has this happen to him. Ever. I mean look at me, I can say such stuff without flinching or feeling the slightest bit of embarrassment, I am socially awkward and I look like crap.

What comes to mind when I think of 'being hit on' only, in real life; I am uglier and the woman is way shorter.

Well, if this is what it takes for me to experience female touch, right?

Typical reader's reaction to the previous comment of mine

So, here's the deal; the new sublet is basically an overgrown baby, he needs his elder brother to come and settle him in the new apartment, and this elder brother is the 'person'.

Wait. Let this sink in. So let me get this straight. The person. Who hit on me. Is. A. GUY, A MOTHERFUCKING GUY!!! OMFG this is fucking bullshit man. I mean I, like most people, like the odd bit of attention every now and then, but this is fucking ridiculous. I had consigned myself to the sidelines of everyday life, I like flying under the radar, going unnoticed is my specialty, so naturally I don't talk much to people and so the chance of being hit on is virtually nil. Now, this is fine by me, since I know that it ain't gonna happen, so I am content with my comics and my music and content being 'well known' among two or three friends, but then came along this dude like a real dude, with a dick! and he's hitting on me? This is some sort of cruel joke isn't it? and the worst part is that my gaydar is extremely under-developed which nicely segues us to the next part of my misadventure.

So, there he is showing too much interest in what I do, asking me to play the guitar for him, actually pretending to listen to my usual rapid-fire tutorial of progressive time signatures and the difference between Indian and Western musical instruments. and saying that I have a lot of hobbies pointing to the comic on my table and my skates on the ground. And I am all, 'wow, someone perceptive enough to notice all this, maybe I am finally getting the slight recognition I deserve' and that's when things got a little awkward, because right then my roomie sends me a ping on gtalk (from the next room) telling me that the dude is most probably gay and that is exactly when he comes and sits next to me; a little too close to me. So I hastily close my laptop lest he see that message and make up an excuse to leave the apartment.

My face when I realized what just happened.

With my rotten luck, I am even surprised I got worked up over this.

ustory (this one is from 2007)

2010-05-25T20:47:00.003+05:30

Currently writing a long essay for which I am reading something, until then, here is a ustory from way back in 2007, and you know what? I realize that I have a fetish for women's glasses, in this story too do I mention them. I had no idea that I liked women in glasses so much.

---------------------------------------------------

We are oft to blame...

My head hurts.

I rub my eyes with my hand, but I don't feel them.
I look around, and all I see is mud, it clears and I see grass.
Lovely green grass. Greener than I have ever seen it. I can see the individual blades of grass. Glad to be alive.

I am still alive!

What a relief it is, to know that you still have a while longer to live.
Then I remember her.

Actually, I remember her glasses. She wears the thick, black kind, remember?
They make her look more serious than she actually is.
Then again, she does look like she is 16 when she takes them off.

Where am I? Why can't I hear anything? I look and see a broken swing. I see the remains of a see-saw. I am in a ground. Why?
Then I remember, she is in trouble. I am in trouble.

The whole thing is messed up. Shit.

I must run, and find help. But what do I tell people ?
We knew what we were getting into. It didn't seem such a big deal then, then why am I so scared now.

She had asked me not to go ahead with the 'plan' when she first heard it, but she had later relented. I started hating her for changing her mind.

What time is it ? My watch is gone. My dad's Omega. He'll kill me when he finds out. IF I get out of this mess alive.

I surmise it's evening. I have to start planning my next move. Suddenly, I hear an unfamiliar voice call out my name. I turn around...

"Bang!"

=============================================

Also, this is the second story in which 'I' die at the end. Strange.

ustory (this is an old one, I think this is #3)

2010-05-21T07:02:00.006+05:30

This is a repost, wrote this story a long time ago, hopefully I will convince Slipperyreflections to make graphic adaptation for this story as well.

Here is an attempt at another ustory, I gave myself 5 minutes to think of a story and a limit of one sitting to complete writing it.

==========================================================
Semantics.

You could ask me why I haven't married her.
Well... It's because I see no difference. yeah, I don't celebrate birthdays either.

I still remember the way her body felt, while she rested beside me that day, and the look in her eyes when I brushed away a strand of her hair which covered them. It was awkward, and we knew it.

It was my first time, and the last time that I didn't have to pay for it, but strangely, it feels better now, even though it still costs me fifty bucks an hour. The first time is always awkward, so much is expected of you, and you hope you can match up to these standards but with a hooker things are different, there isn't a need for faking things, and there is none of that emotional bullshit that women use to fuck up the fun in good old 'sex', although I like to call it 'a good fuck'.

Now, I have her with me. She's been turning tricks since she was 17, or so she says, she was already in her mid 20s when I met her and had been around town if you catch my drift. She must be nearing 40 now, and I still love her like I did the day I first answered her timid knock on my apartment door. I could hardly have believed my eyes, she was not half as ugly as I had imagined her to be, and the glasses that she wore? they were a freaking travesty, they made her look like a librarian.

The first time with her was very different, she was a Jane Doe for me then, I had no obligations, and neither did she. But that wasn't to stop her, she had an enthusiasm for life I had never seen before, she wasn't sad and resigned to her fate as one would imagine a hooker would be. She made me realize that my first time, my first time ever, was a total disaster.

I became a regular, and later her only client. She is with me now, she is mine, although I still pay her for services rendered. And for my years of patronage, she repays me by hopping over whenever I call and she cooks my food for me, she washes my clothes, she loves me, but she will never say it to me, not in a million years, it is not like her, but I know and I know it for sure.

It has been years since I have seen anyone from my family, or had any friends. I don't get invited to parties or functions nor does anyone visit me. They think that I am a bad influence on them and their awesome fucking children and on this wretched society in general, well they can suck my dick and call me daddy. My neighbors make fun of us when we walk together, but she is unperturbed and I couldn't care less, she is my only contact with familiarity, and my job doesn't help me in being social with other people either, but it pays very well and so I don't complain.

I do employ the services of other 'paid companions' because I get bored sometimes, but she? She is special, I go back to her. Every time.

I can't see why people get married and subject themselves to that restriction in their choice, but I love my life and our little arrangement, and wouldn't have it any other way.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sorry if it sucked, I got bored towards the end and just submitted it without proofreading or improving it.

Update for ustory # (something)

2010-05-18T01:40:00.003+05:30

Here is an image macro done by surrealnoises, god bless her soul :)
here is the story that I wrote that it refers to. She's seems to have put it up on her blog as well, check it out, and thanks for visiting.

ustory # (I really don't remember what number this is)

2010-05-14T04:01:00.003+05:30

What's the time? ustory time

If you don't know what a ustory is, it is a super short story that can't be more than a few lines long and one that follows Chuck Palahniuk's guidelines about brevity.

If you haven't read it, he basically says; 'don't assume your readers are stupid,' and reveal things not be 'telling' but by 'showing' or by the act of not 'saying'

Here is one I wrote recently, as usual, it is... well, it is in my usual style ;)

----------

The pretentious and boring neighbor smells something fishy, which is funny because she is a heathen bitch that doesn't know to keep a house.

Her husband hasn't smiled at me in the ten years that we have lived next to each other.

Her kid is an obnoxious brat who jacks off on their terrace to his father's playboys.

He throws a stone at my window, expecting to hear me scream.
No reply.

The bitch asks her lazy, uninformed, and soulless husband about me, says that she hasn't seen 'the psycho loser' in a while and quips that I might be dead.

She decides to come and let me know that I should stop doing whatever I am doing because I am stinking up the place.

Too late lady, I already did.

She rings the bell. She peeps inside.

"Honey call the police" she screams to her husband across the lawn.

As her eyes fall on the ejected shell on my floor.

Too late lady, I already did.

Review - Embroideries VS Peepshow

2010-05-11T19:58:00.007+05:30

Marjane Satrapi's 'Embroideries' (2005) has a lot of good things written about it. Elle goes as far as to call it a 'Tantalizing . . . Bold, bewitchingly humorous and politically astute' in fact it is hard to find anyone who says anything negative about it.

It has about 150 pages and takes about 8 minutes to read. It depicts one lazy afternoon in her family's life in Iran where a bunch of women sit together to gossip about their sex lives, hymen reconstruction surgery, and the joys of being someone's mistress. It's a more realistic 'sex and the city' as one female blogger put it. I'd hate to break it to her but that's hardly a compliment.

What I want to talk about, is this widespread adulation for a comic that is mildly entertaining at best and annoyingly insipid at worst. Luckily before you know it, it abruptly ends.

Just because she is an Iranian muslim, and is a bit more open about slightly sensitive 'woman' topics, doesn't mean that it is a great book or that you must go overboard in your praise for it. I really liked her 'Persepolis' don't get me wrong, it was good to read about life in Iran before it went to the dogs. But seriously praise like Time's 'Embroideries is as funny, opinionated, controversial and surprising as any good comic or conversation should be' is a little too much for a story that took a few minutes to recall, and is basically her drawing rumors and gossip from her female relatives a few years back. You'd think she were the new Bukowski.

Now you want something truly funny, uninhibited, and downright outrageous (for the more normal folk out there) I would suggest Joe Matt's 'Peepshow'

Joe Matt is crazy, laying bare every minute, embarrassing detail of his life, going as far as to exaggerate it, and in the process showing the reader just how pathetic and vulgar human life is. A lazy but unique cartoonist, Matt Joe lives illegally in Canada, has impossibly high standards in women which is funny because like me, he has no tact and no talent as far as women are concerned. He is a porn addict, as serial masturbators usually are, and spends his time editing porn to remove shots of men and their 'hairy asses' from them. All of this and more find place in his 'comic diary' censorship? pride? dignity? why what is all that? words, nothing but words.

I read this comic in one sitting even with two finals the next day just because I could not get enough. If you truly want something that will make you laugh out loud, and make you angry, and hate the author, along with many other emotions, I suggest you go to your nearest comic book store and pick up the series as soon as possible.

spiral

2010-05-09T06:43:00.004+05:30

You know you are lonely when you start personifying loneliness as your mistress, next stop; schizophrenia - S. Meer

I. (1)
Me. (1)
Excuse me, (2)
while I sit (3)
alone, in a world full (5)
of people, and watch the weather change. And (8)
I let go and surrender (5)
to the spiral (3)
of my (2)
inevitable (1)
destruction. (1)

The Outsider

2010-05-01T06:23:00.004+05:30

Here is a story I wrote a long time ago.

-----------------------

The Outsider.

Monday 6th March 2009 3:40 AM

And I am prancing around, happy and delighted, there is a rainbow in the sky and the ever cheerful sunflowers are singing me a catchy little, song. As I walk across the meadow with a straw in my mouth and my best flannel jacket on, in the distance I see a figure. My eyes take a while to adjust to the distance, and then… could it be? Oh I wish it is! Have my dreams come true? Will I finally be granted the wish that I so badly desire?
As I approach nearer I realize that indeed I am correct! It is a unicorn. I skip across anxious to talk to it. As I approach I say “hello unicorn, may I please ask for a wish?”

“Why yes you may, jolly old chap” my fine horned friend replies. He is so cool and benevolent and has a prop’ah British accent, not like those uncouth pixies I just met, they were just mean!

“I wish I could gather the courage to speak my mind” I say and wait expectantly for my magical companion to reply in the affirmative.

Huh? What is this? I have a mane? I think to myself as I slide my paw through it while waiting for him to answer.

My paw?

“Tring tring” he blurts out.

Wait, what?
I open my eyes.

…and I was getting all excited, but who the hell could this be? What time is it?
I groggily sit myself up and answer the phone.

The voice on the other end of the line is that of a woman, a woman!
“Hi, Anuva!” I almost squeal, I wonder if she noticed. I am all excited, maybe she broke up with him and maybe she wants to hook up with me now, I mean… why else would she call me up like this, now?!!!

She tells me that she is sorry for waking me up at the odd hour and asks me if I have any important work in the morning.

“No, it’s alright, I was awake anyway” I lie I must say that I am a bit disappointed “Also, yes I am free in the morning tell me what do you want me to do?” I lie again.

She tells me that she is arriving at Hyderabad in about two hours and wonders if I can pick her up, her boyfriend is not free.

“Sure, I will be right there”

I know that she is using me, she would never have called me unless she wanted a favor, she’s always been like that I guess; being pretty does have its advantages. People will do anything for a good looking girl. Heck I even remember taking the fall for something she did while we were in college; almost had me suspended, luckily my grades sailed me through. I guess I had hoped that she would see that I am a nice guy and fall in love with me out of gratitude. It only goes to show that there aren’t any nice guys. And although I am seemingly helping her as a friend, I really just want to be with her for a while and can’t resist the temptation to have her sit next to me in my car. I am over the whole nice guys phase now, you could say that I’ve grown up, now, I just want to help her and get no thanks in return; you see I get off to being a martyr. It is like a drug to me; some sort of masochistic pleasure. Truth be told, had she been mine, I would probably have lost interest in her by now.

Monday 6th March 2009 5:16 AM

There she is; I can see her even from this distance. I unconsciously smile. Even if things had things gone my way; the scene would have played out pretty much the same: I would have driven out exactly the same way, the same smile on my face would have been there on my face and then I would get out to meet her, but this is where things change; she would have been different, her reaction and state of mind would have been different. I feel happy thinking about this alternate reality; I wish the wish granting unicorn were real then perhaps by magic I could have… but then I remember that things did not turn out my way and that magic is not real, heck even the unicorn in my dream didn’t grant me my wish, hastily I kill the lovesick expression evident on my face and adopt a more business like, more platonic smile. I pull over and realize that she has a lot of luggage, so I get out of the car and haul all of it in. Our pleasantries are strange; for two people who haven’t seen each in other in two years an spoken just once via email, we have surprisingly little to talk about.

She gives me a weak ‘hey’ and I smile coldly; I don’t want her to know now, do I?

“I thought you wouldn’t come” she says, “I got out 15 minutes ago.”

“Oh yeah I am sorry, I had to walk to Jim’s place to pick up my car, I was too drunk the night before to drive home”

She then gets into the car without saying anything more. I realize that I would normally have been pissed off at such inconsiderate behavior, but I am sleepy, and she is pretty.

Anuva doesn’t talk much during the trip; she is in town for the marriage. It is going to be a court marriage; she doesn’t mind, she doesn’t like the vulgar display of happiness that ordinary marriages always tend to bring along: like an unwanted guest, anyway. I know what you are thinking, she told me these exact words, alright!

The ride is great, I like driving her home, maybe she likes sitting next me too, or not. Yeah maybe not because she’s dozed off, I suppose she has had a rough day so I don’t disturb her; even though there is nothing more I want at this moment then to talk to her if only for a little bit.

It is winter and the sun won’t be up for a while, sigh! It looks like it’s still going to be dark when we reach. I take a turn at Ikea to drop her at beltsville, because that is where ‘he’ lives. She gets out and asks me to carry her bags to the front porch. He comes out, and they hug. It is bad enough that I have to leave; the darkness decides to fuck with me and further amplifies my grief.

I want to compose a poem; I feel wounded and betrayed- A profound state of mind as far as I am concerned. I resist the urge to pretend to be a poet because my poems are crappy and they never do justice to the job of accurately describing how I feel. I turn around and walk away, I don’t belong, not here at least, I am no one; an outsider. Like always.

It is protocol you know. Or so I tell myself.

Sigh! It’s going to be a long drive home it is.

Monday 6th March 2009 8:34 PM

“You’re a jackass you know?” he tells me.
“Tell me something I don’t know, man” I reply.
“Hmmm… for one; that was a rhetorical statement” he quips back.
“Funny! So was mine” ha-ha, touché I think to myself in my head before realizing that I don’t like being on the winning side. It always makes me feel guilty, so I usually say “sorry man”, I was just kidding and saying that makes me feel a whole lot better, but I am not going to apologize today, I let it slide, and let the guilt remain. I need a smoke.
You know what I mean man, don’t play dumb alright, he continues, he is right, I am kidding myself. I don’t listen to anyone. Not even myself.
“So why do you keep doing this?” Jim pipes in.
“Yeah man, she is an ungrateful bitch, but she is freaking hot I have to give you that” says Jeremy.
I don’t know why, if I knew, I would have tried to change…
Maybe… okay, that’s not true, I am lying to myself again; but no one can stop me from saying so.

“let me get this straight; you woke up at 3… in the morning… to go pick her up from the airport 20 miles away, on the night before your interview even though she could have easily caught a cab, even though her boyfriend lives in town, even though you know that she will never know?” he adds.
“Hey man! She is afraid of traveling alone in cabs and her boyfriend is sick” I reply, while muttering “with the cold” under my breath. I don’t want my best friends to kick my scrawny little butt now do I?

I pause my thinking while I take a swig of my cheap beer-beer that they have served in a pitcher, watered down beer that tastes more like nail filings in acetone, or something like that, it is at this precise moment; when this horrendous simile comes to my mind that I feel relieved about the fact that they haven’t asked me about my interview, maybe my stupidity has stolen the spotlight.
I heave a sigh of relief.

“Okay, enough about her and your stupidity pray tell us how your interview went” says Jeremy.
Fucking Jeremy!
Bastard is as sharp as a needle. Lodged in your eye and I am not talking about one of those on your face.
“Oh that! Forget it; I didn’t get the job man”
“Why? You were perfect for it, and you have the qualifications”
“Er…I don’t know, they were looking for someone else, does anyone want a shot? Jim?”
“We’ll all get a round of shots later but tell me, you didn’t go did you?”
“No I didn’t, I… er… slept through my appointment.” I admit. Surprisingly no one says anything; they know that it is now time to stop pushing me around.

As my high school teachers used to say, there was ‘pin drop’ silence at our table... No one’s saying anything at all.

‘You know that you are to blame for all of this right?” says Jeremy finally, he is right; as usual. I don’t argue with him. It is clear that he is right. Jim and Jeremy both know the story well. They have been my friends since as long as I can remember.

I am pretty drunk by now. Someone orders shots of snakebite. No, it was me who ordered the shots. Nghh what the hell! I might as well drink to dull my senses. This is going to be a long night.

Monday 6th March 2009 10:23 PM

Drunk as a skunk, I am now set, to prove to everyone around me, that I am indeed under the influence by reciting aloud a poem I have chosen to compose extempore. I am not a loud boisterous drunk like many others but today is different. I somehow forget who I am and stand up, remove my glasses and clink my third shot of the night using my glasses as I cannot find any metal object nearby and call everyone’s attention to our table.

“What can we do?
We are but human;
bound to our fates.
Our lives a series of mistakes;
we learn from them and prepare
for a second chance;
that will never come”

Oh no, what have I done, what have I done, I have made a fool of myself. I can hear chuckles and disapproving sighs. At least they are all strangers; I don’t know any of them. It’s cool. I will be the topic of water hole conversations at different offices across the city tomorrow, but I will be nameless.

“Whoa there Shakespeare!” says a voice and I suddenly feel like I am in that dream archetype where you are naked in a room full of giggling strangers pointing at your wiener.

“So what are you guys talking about?” she asks while pulling up a chair for herself.
“We were speaking about this girl he knows… I mean likes” said Jeremy.
I am going to kill the cocksucker one of these days.
“Really? I thought that you were asexual”

“No, don’t listen to him, he is like a monkey, he likes to pull stuff out his ass and fling it at people” I say, desperately hoping to brush it off as a joke.

“Haha he is just upset because he doesn’t have the balls to tell her this” says Jeremy; the Scorpio in him won’t rest until he exacts his revenge.

“You are such a fucking pussy” says Anuva, as she drinks a shot lying around on the table. To top it off, he’s tagged along. What the fuck is he doing here? We don’t even know the douchebag.

“Yeah man, you gotta grow a pair you know, Oh by the way, still jobless huh?” He says.

I want to kick him. I really do. I want to tell him to mind his own business.
I want to tell him to lay his hands off her. I want to whisk her away to some place far away, and protect her from the monsters that roam in this world. I will say none of that, because that is not the way I am wired, I wish I wasn’t, I really do want to give in to my reckless dark desires, but maybe I am afraid of the consequences. Yep, that is me alright, a big fucking square.

So, Instead I smile at him and nod. I catch a glimpse of Jeremy looking at me with a raised eyebrow and his lips pursed.

“When’s the marriage happening?” asks Jim.

“Oh we were thinking this Thursday; we don’t really care about the right date or anything, I would have invited you guys but it’s a court marriage and we were thinking of just calling the witnesses but if we do go in for a small ceremony at the temple, I will make it a point to call you guys” he replies.

Monday 6th March 2009 11:53 PM

The ridicule is getting to me, I want to lash out- lash out at all of them; for not understanding me- Jim and Jeremy for not understanding how much it hurts, and Anuva for not understanding me at all, and her fiancé for being a total douche. And all I wanted to do was have a quite evening drinking with my friends.

It’s taken me a while to accept the fact that I no longer have a chance, why did they have to remind me again? I want them to shut up. SHUT UP!!!

“So tell me more about this girl, do I know her?” Anuva prods for the tenth time in half as many minutes. No one is giving me a break. I feel like a lamb dining amongst wolves.

“No, seriously there is no one”

“Ha-ha, man, we all know that you don’t know how to lie, you suicidal imbecile!” says Jeremy and I am beginning to think that I should stop hanging out with him.

“Okay, at least tell me what your problem is? Why don’t you just go tell her” She tells me.

“Because that would just not be me” I state emphatically, while Jeremy and Jim start laughing their heads off and say that I am making excuses and that I ought to be kicked.

“Is she friendly with you? In the sense do you know her personally?” she asks me.

“You could say yes”

“Okay, so imagine that you go up to her, now tell me what you want to say to her” she asks.

“You really want to know?” I ask, I then hold her hand and say “let’s assume that you are the girl, then this is what I would want to say to her”

And then I launch into this:

“darling,
how can I explain to you
how much you mean to me?
if the whole world were to turn against you
and claim that you were evil,
I would stand up proud and secure
and proclaim
while the hair on my back and hands and neck stood on its ends
that you are the only thing
in the world that keeps me going
and that I would gladly take any punishment and sadness that the entire world might wish upon you
and hope that it is inflicted instead
upon me
I mean it
and even if
it kills me
and I am at the throes of death
and I feel remorse at the fact that I am
going to die and never feel an emotion again,
I will still feel no hate toward you, because
I love you and only you
and I shall forever be indebted to you
for the way you make me feel” I drunkenly blurt out.

“Yikes, that is a bit morbid and disturbing isn’t it? That would scare away almost every kind of woman there is. Dude you are obsessed, it’s not healthy, I was thinking more along the lines of ‘would you come out for a cup of coffee’ or something to that effect”

The mood on the table has soured, they don’t know what to think of my rant and the whole situation, and the funny part is that I agreed to be one of the witnesses for her marriage, I wonder if they will want to reconsider that one. I am pissed off at all of them now, I did not want that to come out, but I did, if only to shut them up. This should show them.

“I know, and that is why I don’t want to say anything to her, it’s hopeless, there is no point in trying” I say getting angrier and angrier every second “and this was precisely why I did not want you guys to pursue that subject so are you happy now?”

The bar is closing for the night, they want us out. Anuva gets up with him to go, she tells me that I need not come; he has found someone else to come as the witness. They walk off.

“Surreal!” says Jim.

“That was you yankin ‘em right?” says Jeremy.

Right! This is why I hang out with this fucker. He gets me. We order and receive a last round of shots, Jack the bartender knows us. We are like family, he sees us everyday. Maybe I should quit drinking.

Yep.

Thank You and I Fare thee well

2010-03-23T23:18:00.013+05:30

I have been saying farewell to a lot of friends lately, I am getting more and more disillusioned with myself and life in general. The hardest thing I ever did was say farewell to this particular friend, whom we shall call II, a few weeks ago. II shattered my life and all she needed was a single minute, because sometimes a minute is all you need to know, right? Anyway I still feel like a fucking teenager and I am going to be twenty fucking seven years old in July, can you believe that shit? Half my fucking life over and nothing to show for it.

Now, coming to the main point of this post, I have been thinking about life more deeply in the recent past than usual, I have been re-evaluating my goals and my views, and among other things, I have come to the conclusion that Karbage has to go. It has no use anymore, and with the deteriorating quality of my posts after moving here to the US, I feel that I am just wasting your time talking about how I am depressed and laying out in detail the inner battles that I am fighting. This is not why most of you came here in the first place, right?

I just got a new follower; my eighth; someone from Russia, I wonder what is it with me and Russia, I never seem to be far from it, for example even II was Russian, well actually Ukrainian but they are the same right? and it took me a whole 4 years to get eight followers, this goes to show how great I write.

I would like to take the time to thank the following people who visited my blog over the past few years and gave me the motivation to continue this far:

1) Divya - My ex for being there when I needed her, and for taking the time to understand me. No one has ever done that and for that I shall always remain thankful to her.

2) Varun - My best friend who is like my brother, who had some freaking hilarious things to comment once in a while. I know this fucker from seventh grade all the way back in Saudi Arabia.

3) Ritesh - My colleague from TCS who always left me comments when he liked something, thanks man, you should call me some time soon.

3a) Ravi - Another great colleague of mine form TCS, a great guy, and someone who has helped me out a lot, I wish you best of luck, and maybe we should chat, it's been long huh?

4) Ashwin - A junior of mine from KREC, a smart guy that kept me from writing bullshit ;) thanks man

5) Violetcrush - I don't know her real name, but she is a big name in the blogging world, you should check her blog out. She doesn't come here anymore, but thanks to her as well.

6) Sunil - My best friend another who is like my /b/rother who knows me as well as anyone, who has stopped blogging a long time back, and stopped coming here even earlier than that, the fucker is getting married soon, I wish him the best of luck. Again a fellow KRECian.

7) Sajith - Another close friend who is like a brother to me, my co-conspirator in KREC Who visits sometimes(like once a year lol)

8) Sandeep, who, until just now, I did not know, was this particular hit I always got :)

9) All my followers - Natali, ToXiC_RaGe, Pave, djds4rce, Dana Hartnett and others although most of them have never commented here and in fact don't even visit here anymore. I am Sorry I'm quitting guys.

10) And the random people who commented occasionally and kept my motivation going.

So, this is it, the last time I will be writing with you; my audience, in mind, I won't be deleting this blog it has way too many memories attached with it- memories I hope to read when I am old, and when I am even more acutely aware of the fact that every day is just a day closer to the end, just to remember what it felt like to be young and blinded by hope and at a time when I am yet to make the fatal mistakes that I am about to make and maybe I will feel a tinge of regret at not having done some things that I should have. This reminds me of an aphorism I had written a long time back that made II comment on my blog for the first time. It went:

" A wasted opportunity is the saddest thing in the world"

Anyway, enough of my pointless drivel, but I will not be deleting this blog; instead I will be making it into a personal vlog/blog, where I can let my emotions run free without the hassle of knowing that I am wasting someone's time, so I suggest that you unfollow me or stop coming here, because you will only find ~~Karbage~~ garbage here from now on.

Most of you don't know that I have another blog where I write emo crapetry oops... I mean poetry and other pointless shit, well that is going to go, and I will shift some of its content over to this blog, which basically means it is gonna read like the diary of a 16 year old, wrist cutting, Fall Out Boy listening, angsty, and probably anorexic, female. And you don't want that. Trust me.

So, in order to shorten this whole post into a single word, and betray my old friend Mister Logorrhoea with seven swift strokes on my keyboard: Goodbye

And as a parting gift, here is 'Good Riddance' by Greenday, a fitting song for this occasion, I made many mistakes while singing it, and excuse my whiny little voice, I was born with it, I had no control over it you see, also sorry for my funny accent, living in 3 different countries your whole life fucks with it. The acoustic is not my instrument, so sorry for that. And sorry I suck at singing, I always was, but this is me.

Thanks guys :) it was kick ass while it lasted and was a large part of my life but all good things must come to an end right?. And so, with a heavy heart, I shall end with this:

Gone - flitted away,
Taken the stars from the night and the sun
From the day!
Gone, and a cloud in my heart.
~Alfred Tennyson

ii

2010-03-23T10:36:00.001+05:30

happy birthday :)
though you will never read this.

Diggety Dank or the Dankety Dank or...

2010-03-22T09:39:00.002+05:30

When I make friends, I make them for life, I will have none of that 'acquaintance' bullshit, you know... where you keep a person as a friend just to get some favors out of them, this is plain gold-digging of the more general sort.

So, recently I made a friend in my community here in College Park, a very interesting character whom we shall call S. Now S is an Indian, was born in that most magnificent of cities; Bangalore, where your author took his first few breaths of real air himself. Now, with such an illustrious reputation to keep up with, Bangalore did well with S and has thus given me a unique friend.

So he tells me of how he moved to the US while still a child that was walking on all fours, eventually joining a private school where he was made fun of by everybody; being the only brown person in the school. This hazing of his was so severe that he had to be removed from the school for his own protection and put into a public school where there were only people with skin pigmentation studying in it. This was where he was taken in by a few African-American students.

And he's been with them ever since, so he speaks like them, raps like them, and is pretty good at it too, and mostly hangs around them. The kid is almost 20 and has been shot 4 times. Yeah, you read that right, I hang out with gangsters nowadays. Oh did I mention he sells the MJ for pocket change?

It's been fun listening to the stories of his childhood because now I get a real perspective of life here in this country as a kid. My classmates have no time to talk to me about these things and I don't know many people outside of it. So it's been fun hanging out with S.

Will post the more interesting of his stories when I don't feel so lazy. In other news, Spring Break is over and crappy school starts tomorrow.

'I get high to balance out my lows' - S

Personal News

2010-03-16T08:49:00.009+05:30

Warning, haven't spell checked or corrected for grammatical errors, just because I am the king of my blog.

--------------------------------

How I'd like to throw my life away, abandon caution to the wind; for it to take far far away, and maybe for once I will really be aware of what it feels like to be alive.

What was that? I am not quite sure, it just popped into my head while I was walking earlier today from Starbucks back home, so I thought I should put it up here. In related news, don't buy Starbucks Shares, (SBUX) it is overvalued, so prices may crash. also, they were playing old Hindi songs at SBUX today, so that was strange.

Anyway, Oh Hai Gais! I personally know the two people who read my blog, so here is an update from my personal life, just so that you know.

I just got done with my third term, five more to go and I am officially an MBA Douchebag. Way to go to selling out huh?

So I am free for a week, with nothing to do, and now that I don't have to study, I can only play 8 hours of quake in a day, I get bored sooner, you see.

What else? there are a few (two) visitors that come quite often but don't leave any comments, which I think is not fair, but I ain't a fascist, I can't force them to change their ways, but I can request 'em to.

One roomie, the useless one, has fucked off to NY to be with his girlfriend, which is good for me, because I don't like him and usually avoid him anyway. The funny thing about him is the way he speaks to her on the phone, but before that, a little background, the fucker sings really well, has Vedder nailed down perfectly because you see he is an Eddie Vedder fanboi like I am a fanboi of Layne Staley's, basically he has a deep voice, and he has a strong personality, anyway back to how he speaks to his girlfriend; He suddenly turns into a spineless wavering wimp, he speaks to her like how you speak to a spoilt kid; in that strange pseudo voice people adopt to make a child understand or know that you are not threatening it, so imagine you had to take care of this spoilt kid and you can not afford to piss it off? Now, that is how he speaks to her both in content and in form, it's like... how should I say this??? It's so hard to put in words; it's sort of...

Let me just leave this here, I am not saying anything, any inferences are your own, you pervs!!!

Say you are baby sitting your boss' kid a few days before your performance review, imagine yourself there, now, get it??? It is freaking disturbing, because she is, ostensibly, a grown woman who works in NY. So I am pretty sure one of them has psychological problems. You might not like the fact that I am talking about said roommate behind his back, well, fuck you. I can do as I like, right? How ya'll doin today? I hope you have good day. Where was I? oh right, other roomie is going to Florida. I on the other hand have no money so I am at home, getting bored as usual.

Let me sign off with this saying that a guy I knew used to say, until he got into IIMC, upon which he flatly denies authorship, hence, I have taken it as my own and will claim it as my creation.

I revel in my mediocrity - Me

desktop II

2010-03-13T12:19:00.006+05:30

Show me your desktop, people.
Here is mine:

You can't change anything :|

Oops, I forgot, this is not an imageboard, you can't post stuff here :(
I wish you could.

schedule

2010-03-08T07:10:00.001+05:30

Will be back to blogging next week, I think.

Yay, next week exams, and then... Spring Break!!!

So much time ot play quake and laze around at home. Gonna be fun.

nostalgia (repost)

2010-03-05T07:34:00.002+05:30

First posted this on Feb 15 2008 more than 2 years ago, and I have been through so much in this time, yet nothing has changed. Nothing. I could have posted this on Feb 15 2010 and it would have been true to the last sentence. Except the 'listening to' part, I was most probably listening to Saltillo perhaps, it was still a few days before my life took a turn for hell, but enough of my whining, Here is my post. Ah nostalgia, how sweet you taste!

--------------------------------------------------
Feb 15 2008

Its a Friday night, and I am at home.

Wow! such a sad little sentence. And I did not even use a single adjective\adverb in it.

Meh, What can you do ?

I haven't had any alcohol in me since more than a month, smoked my first cigarette in more than a month, a few days ago, so at least something good is coming out of this self-imposed exile.

Yesterday was Valentine's day. What did I do ?

Nothing.

Well, this is turning into a whiny, bitter, little post, let's liven things up shall we ?

Men think all women are 'loose' and hence by extension 'whores', and women think all men are 'pigs' and hence by extension 'rapists'. Hmmm... Rapists and Whores. Now, that is a great combination, good for us(humans). - SM

Funny!

-----------------------------------

Listening to 'Kiss Me' - Six Pence None The Richer

two's company

2010-03-03T12:54:00.004+05:30

Sorry about the fact that I have been a wet rag the past few days people, I was feeling miserable due to some personal matters, but now, I have recovered, the only problem being that I am swamped with work. I am thinking of getting a dual degree, by adding an MS in Finance to my list :)

So I will have a lot more to do, also I want to complete it in 2 years, but trust me, the MBA is a cakewalk, I am taking 8 courses this semester which is 3 more than most people, yet I am doing well. This goes to show how hard this stuff is.

And like I said, although I have gotten out of my depression, it will be a while till I get to my manic state, that is when the fun stuff comes, today, I have a somewhat upbeat post disguised as a depressing one, hope you will like it.

Loneliness and I have had a relationship since so long, ironic as it may be, she’s been with me throughout my life. The word ironic reminds of a small tangent that I want to go off on. I have many American friends here at the school, and they are all very smart, very mature and intelligent people, but there is a large majority of Americans in my class that is exactly as the stereotype projects them to be, not very aware of the rest of the world, a little distant from people from other countries by living in their own cute little cliques, and so the other day, in the morning class a professor drew a map of the US to illustrate a point, then in the next class another professor did the same to which one guy says "Ah that is ironic" I mean I know it's his language and all- English, but good sir, that is not ironic, it is a coincidence, learn your own language people.

Anyway, back to my loneliness, I never feel like I am 'with' someone, because I need the person to be of a certain sort, and unfortunately, the people who do fit the bill, the very few, never seem to like me back. Oh well. But there is an upside to this, like Henry Rollins says, when you are lonely, you look at life in a different way, it is because you have so much free time. He says that loneliness adds a special little burn to sunsets and makes the night air smell better. And believe me, I was awestruck by how much I related to this. I often stare at the setting sun and wonder at the beauty of the sky, and this is not the typical beauty that lends itself to the eye from its symmetry, in fact, it is this very fact- that it is beautiful without symmetry that makes it so special. Would I have this free thinking time had I been un-lonely? I think not.

The second condition also holds true for me. I ~~often~~ everyday stay awake late, like right now, it is 3:00 AM EST and I just drank half a gallon of coffee. Guess sleep will have to wait, I am currently preoccupied with my favorite mistress- Loneliness, So when I go out to my balcony to smoke, I smell the fresh nightly air, free of pollution, and the crass noise that daytime tends to bring along like those pesky children that some parents find extremely fun to tag along to public places. The sweetness hits me because i will usually be preoccupied with how it would be to not be lonely. This is, in my opinion, the perfect definition of an epiphany, one that repeats itself every single time I go out to smoke. It never fails, a quality that I greatly admire, a difficult attribute at that, with very few humans capable of pulling it off.

And, when I smell the air, it makes me drift off, ever so slightly, into a beautiful world where existential thoughts have a physical presence, and they make me feel good, and I forget about how I don't know anybody, not my so called friends, not my parents, not anyone. Ah Philosophy, what woudl I do without you? Anyway, this existentialism makes me realize that I am alive, and although everyday is a struggle for me, trying to fit in with this strange human world; made up of smoke and water, I feel like my life actually has 'meaning.' I make it out of nothing, yet it is tangible, I need no empirical proof, and I need no evidence I know it a priori. Maybe this is what early humans mistook for a 'god' but we all know how I feel about that needless and pointless topic, now don't we?

So don't despair, especially if you are one of those people like me who feels more alone when surrounded by people, there is an upside to everything. My bipolar tendency is also a sort of blessing because in my manic state, I don't realize all this that I have just spoken about but I seem perfectly normal to others and feel perfectly normal myself and I lead a normal life for a few days. So you see, I have the best of both worlds.

It is good to be alive.

And as a parting gift, here is a saying I recently saw, and it is perfect metaphor for what I just went through ;)

She went her unremembering way,
She went and left in me
The pang of all the partings gone,
And partings yet to be.
- Francis Thompson

How Does i Reality?

2010-03-01T01:21:00.007+05:30

What I see when I look out of my little window.
HDR FTW!!!
Let me know if you want to learn how to take these sorts of photographs.
Also included, the non HDR version to let you know how much HDR kicks ass.
These are taken in a hurry and without too much time at hand, Big exam in a few hours you see. Could have been much better and natural looking if I gave it enough time.

Non-HDR

HDR

Non-HDR

HDR

Nothing

2010-02-27T20:35:00.003+05:30

This sad state of being
aggravates me to no end.
The form of my intent buried, unseen.
My mind wants what it can't have.
and my life; on the road to nothing
There is no rehearsal; and no retakes
This is what you have
and this what you'll get
this ordinary life bleeds me
while the truth promises no solace
and these that I hold so dear
just seem to disappear
and I try to hold on
but the rain in my head makes everything slip
I cry out for attention
but no one has an ear to lend.
I want to be someone else
but I know that this is not true
Now, I know what to feel
it makes it no easier.
I know how things will play out
I will do what I have to do
and then there will be nothing.

2010-02-19T16:11:00.000+05:30

No more posts, move along now, nothing to see here...
I have no incentive anymore.

Monkey bidness

2010-02-16T10:56:00.005+05:30

So I notice that the videos I uploaded are not working. I can't believe blogger can be so crappy, they are lucky I find wordpress to be a lamer, more fruity version of blogger, in fact, blogger vs wordpress is something like the PC versus the Mac for me. I hate Macs, and I hate wordpress.

Nothing informative here, just wanted you to know that the videos don't work.

The blogger programing team:

these monkeys are typing out the entirety of Shakespeare!!!

Valentine's Day Excitemente

2010-02-14T03:24:00.004+05:30

My views on Valentines Day, my 26th one.

In the background Thomas Newman.
and rainymood.com

Those familiar with me will be shocked at the poignancy of my talk, and will see a sentimental, dark, and vulnerable side of me that you didn't know existed. Believe me when I say this, but after spilling my guts out on video for all the world to see, I found it hard to click the upload button, but I had decided to show the world the pain that I feel, and hence went through with the uploading. I might regret this later when I am sober and sane, but to hell with being too cautious, nothing good ever comes out of being too careful, huh?

Careful, the sheer awesomeness of my insanely kickass articulation on this subject that I hold so close to my heart will sear through your brain and make you incapable of any sane thoughts ever again.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

< Video Removed >

Haha. I keed, I keed.

Odd time signatures

2010-02-13T06:25:00.004+05:30

and how to play 'em

This is apparently a tutorial, but it kinda makes no sense, but I know the two[one if don't count me] people who read my blog, so it doesn't really matter. Does it Slipperyreflections?

And excuse my roomie, he goes a little hyper when he is about to go out clubbing.

Tool on an acoustic! and they said it can't be done. HA!

dis is hao u spellz nao!

2010-02-08T02:30:00.006+05:30

Come to Cherry Hill Road's very own Hard Rock Cafe, no not the one with
the gigantic guitar, this one, with the funny spelling here in College Park, open whenever the weather is 'not in the climate.' Or, something to that effect. They serve a great beef chilli, apparently.

And, by the way, if you are wondering, the fact that inclement has been spelled as inclimate is not considered to be a misspelling, but is in fact an 'eggcorn', yeah you read that right. This is funny because I always thought that Indian languages are handicapped by their lack of vocabulary, so I don't like them. Now, I feel that English suffers from the exact opposite problem; too many words, these crazy westerners have words for everything.

Remember the one time you blinded someone by putting a hot copper basin near his or her eyes? No? well, they have a word for that, it's called 'Abacinate' or the time you left a surgical sponge accidentally inside a patient's body? No? well, it is called 'Gossypiboma' anyway, you get the point, and these words are so rare, my spell check doesn't even recognize them.

Yep, I see the problem, your lungs have turned into a large squeegee since the transplant, we have no idea how this happened, you have 15 seconds to live, oh well, easy come easy go, eh?

Well, I kid, I love the crazy westerners. I like their obsession with recording everything that ever happens. Ask an American where he is from, and he will know what his ancestors did for a living, from where they migrated and the year that their family migrated here to the states, which cities their families have lived in, etc... Ask the same question to an Indian, and he won't even know where his grandparents were born, seriously, I don't know where my grandparents were born, and I am sure my dad doesn't know where his grandparents came from either.

On an unrelated note, are Coltrane and Davis, the greatest jazz musicians ever or are they the greatest Jazz musicians ever?

Ramblings of an intoxicated bumpkin.

2010-02-07T01:17:00.008+05:30

Warning: excuse the banal prolixity of this post, it is one of those where the introduction is longer than any actual substance, but what can I say, I am an airhead not unlike this certain classmate of mine, who is as hot as superheated plasma [oops, my science-tourette's is acting up again] Just looking at her makes me lose the blood supply to my brain. Yeah, I did, and you know what I meant.

It is all about enduring the agony,
perchancel; I am a masochist? - S.K. Meer

Which is funny considering the fact that I have zero tolerance for pain.
I remember twelfth standard biology or senior year as people here in the US call it, where we had to prick our own finger to test for our blood type, I was the last guy to be able to do it, even the girls who sat with me made fun of the fact that I was not able to puncture my own skin, but come on... Who likes punching a hole in their own finger? I know I don't.

I would have asked the professor to do it for me had I not seen that she kinda stabbed the one guy who did ask for her help, with the lancet-thing, with a vengeance; like as if he had just knocked up her daughter.

Artist's rendering of what said professor looked like on that fateful day.

Anyway, I was speaking to a friend, saying that I like keeping the fact that I like someone from that person. This silly, needless martyrdom gets me off I think. Maybe I am in love with falling in love and pining for someone. What pathetic nonsense is this?

Artist's rendition of your author, he was asked to go a little light on the ugliness.

But then, how do you chase someone when she isn't running from you?

Anyway what I really want to talk about; I had another one of those strange moods today.

And this is how it happened as always:

I suddenly stopped doing whatever I was doing,
like as if I suddenly lost my purpose.
which is funny; purpose? who has any purpose anyway?
life has no goal, and no, being 'successful' in the normal materialistic sense has as profound a meaning as the swirls in Paris Hilton's new hairdo.
Jokes aside, so you just live your life the best you can and maybe have a little fun while at it. And, then I snap back from this day dream, back to the rat race where no one is going anywhere too soon but you want to run. And I laugh just as the silly feeling I just had fades away. At my insignificance. For now.

Hey, it's better than nothing...

2010-02-02T10:55:00.000+05:30

HAHA!

Needles in My Eyes by The Beta Band - tabs

2010-01-25T01:48:00.008+05:30

Here are the chords to Needles in my eyes by The Beta Band. I couldn't find the chords anywhere so I decided to get them myself, and enrich the internet tubes with my brilliance. No need to thank me, unless you are a girl, in which case, I am willing to have a one night stand with you ;) BUT only if you behave.

The key is E Maj. And the current easy version has only three chords, and all majors, something that I don't usually see. So have fun, this is a great song to play, and is easy, although the vocal rhythm is a bit 'syncopated.' The chord shifts are not accurate, just listen to the record and get it, quite simple actually. This is my first draft, will refine it in a day or two.

And forgive the hyphens, I cant be assed to google how to put spaces in blogger, because it keeps removing the spaces, I tried 3 different ways.

Needles In My Eyes by The Beta Band

B
Last night it was so good
A-------------------- E
I felt like crying, I felt crying
B
Last night though you looked so cold
A ------------------- E
I felt like smiling, smiling while I'm dying

B
Last night looked so good
A---------------------- E
Felt like crying, felt like crying
B
Last night though you looked so old
A---------------------------------- E
I felt like smiling, smiling while I'm dying

B --------------------- E
You left me cold, you left me cold
B ----------------------E
You left me cold, you left me cold

B -----------------------------------------------------E
Needles in my eyes won't cripple me tonight alright
B --------------------------------------------------------E
Twisting up my mind please pull me through the light alright
B -------------------------------------------------------E
Needles in my eyes won't cripple me tonight alright
B --------------------------------------------------------E
Twisting up my mind please pull me through the light alright
B
Last night I dropped my heart and
E
I never wanna see it again
B
Getting tighter with you all the time
E
I think I'm gonna my buckle my spine

B
I crept in and I stole your mind
E
I think I'm having trouble with mine
B
Crept in and I stole your mind
E
I think I'm having trouble with mine

B --------------------- E
You left me cold, you left me cold
B --------------------- E
You left me cold, you left me cold
B ----------------------------------------------------E
Needles in my eyes won't cripple me tonight alright
B ----------------------------------------------------- E
Twisting up my mind please pull me through the light alright
B ----------------------------------------------------E
Needles in my eyes won't cripple me tonight alright
B----------------------------------------------------- E
Twisting up my mind please pull me through the light alright

-------------------------------------------------------------------

The end :)

yay- repost

2010-01-23T05:56:00.001+05:30

Repost from a long time ago.

---------------------------------

Oh the times we had.
My pet porpoise and I.
His official name was Octavio Jules Miranda 'el padre cuckaracha' the magnificent. Esq. although I liked to call him pooky.
We'd walk together to the local mall, play the guitar, solve differential equations, talk about everything under the sun [except sushi] play beach volleyball with a pair of hot nubile chicks... Oh those were the days.

And then... :'(

one fateful day, we disagreed over which of po(o)p or (c)RAP were a worse genre of music, and he... boo hoo... left.

All these years I have been waiting to hear from him, maybe see him again, maybe hear the 'flop flop' of his flappers clanging on the floor, but it was just a hope... until I checked my clustr map today. Who woulda thunk that that little map would help me locate my missing friend.

Screenshot of hit from a cyber cafe somewhere in the pacific, the arrow shows the dot in question.

And lo behold; I see a hit from the middle of, what I assume is, the pacific ocean. Pooky; my long lost buddy reads my blog!

Woo fucking Hoo!

Cut and Bag it or how to write a chetan bhagat 'novel'

2010-01-05T00:42:00.004+05:30

Chethan bhagat has come out with his fifth book called 'The Three Trashketeers - What not to pick up from the garbage dumpster' a story about 3 close friends who live in the slums of Mumbai and collect garbage for a living.

The story is written from the point of view of Ramesh 'Ramu' Shyambenegalkar, a brilliant garbage collector who rummages through the garbage in a large bombay slum, the best slum of its kind in India and who has inherited his fathers talent in finding valuable knickknacks in seemingly steaming piles of garbage. His friends John Behari and Manav provide him with company and help him win the heart of gauri, the local rag picker who happens to be his boss' daughter. While the tone of the novel is humorous, it takes some dark turns every now and then, especially when it comes to the families of the main characters.

In response to the fight the author had with the fine tweeple who follow him on twitter, he has decided to offer this book free of charge as a download-able e-book. To which his 'Fans' replied 'Meh.'

A new Hindi Movie starring, believably, Amir Khan as the 16 year old Ramu, has been released with a story line that is vaguely similar to the new book but bhagat has denied any such authorization of what is clearly a contender for the next Booker of Bookers prize. There is expected to be a lot of crying, swearing and 'blocking' in the near future with regards to this controversy.

-----------------------------

This is obviously a parody, if you can't get that, tell your mom you got screwed over by her.

HNY

2009-12-31T14:25:00.002+05:30

I stare at the Setting December sun,
its seen so many of these.
For some, its a time of happiness.
For some it's just a tease

There is a world, that, I've been told
where people seem to breathe
But what am I? cause truth be told
a man who cannot be.

-S.Meer

Suicide. Mine.

2009-12-30T14:45:00.002+05:30

My last Farewell.

I gave up today. I just did. Personally I found this strange because I always thought that I would experience a life changing event, if at all, and that that would eventually push me over the edge, like a disaster that sucks your 'will to live' and leaves you barren and hopeless. It never came, I just found myself bored and unmotivated one fine day, while I played a song on my guitar, and that is when it struck me that life for me, for no discernible reason, had lost its allure. Quite a bummer actually, but what can you do ?

It has always 'rained' in my head. I would, all the time, feel the presence of ominous gray clouds ready to dampen any sunny thoughts I'd have. But I always figured that it would get better. I'd tell myself that it would pass and leave me be. I can't do that anymore I can't pretend, everything seems so sad and just pathetic, and I know that things will only get worse. Like an unexpected death. Why do I feel that you won't be laughing at this joke of mine ?

When I was younger I had naively thought that when I grew up, and became a 'grown up' I'd have all the answers, there would be no more dark places where you didn't know what kind of danger or happiness lurked, but I was wrong. Growing up only made things worse and opened up more scary corners with its unknown and unspeakable horrors designed by the brilliance of fate. The worst part of all of this; was when I realized that I had become an adult, and that I actually liked being a kid. Too bad we can't turn back time.

I gave up hope today, that hackneyed overused concept which paradoxically enough is not often mentioned, yeah, the same 'hope' that blinds us to live, to kill, to hate, to wish, to smile. Maybe we are all scared that we'll jinx it by talking about it.

My last wish is that when it finally does happen, my life flashes before my eyes as they often say it does, another meaningless, pointless exercise in futility that will happen just once and never again shall be repeated. It might very well never have happened.

And then... I won't know what hit me

This is what I want.

update

2009-12-29T12:15:00.000+05:30

well, I plan on putting up a new article tomorrow. Until then, ciao.

OMG call the party van, it's CP!!!

2009-12-03T18:38:00.002+05:30

I just wanted to rant, nothing funny here. Sorry.

I currently live in College Park, MD. And I am NOT pleased.

This is by far the lamest town in the whole of the US. Nothing even remotely interesting happens here, ever. Coming from a typical Indian town, that has a few million people, and a billion places to get bored, to a town that has two streets, a few thousand people and so few places to get bored is really a big bummer IYKWIM.

There isn't even a freaking guitar center here, wtf is up what that? and public transportation is a joke.

You have to go buy booze only at designated liquor stores that are impossible to reach without a car, so I am sober many a days :(

Luckily the University has some very pretty girls studying in it, but alas it is more of a 'look and keep dreaming' sort of situation if your skin color's not white or black. Okay, maybe that is not entirely true, but I am looking for excuses and so scram, I don't need no help form you in bursting my bubbles. Life does that for me, anyway.

The house rents are over-bloated because they know we have no where else to stay. And the MD tax on cigarettes is another big let down. Daylight Robbery.

to be cont...

You Go! GirlFriend!

2009-11-29T06:51:00.003+05:30

As you can see, I feel that anarchy is the perfect form of governance. I know, I know... that that statement is ironic but true in my opinion. Of course this is subject to Nietzsche's oft misused ideas being brought to fruition in the sense that he originally envisioned them. I should have put this up on November 5th, but I was busy and forgot, so here is my wallpaper, that I made, and I hope you like it. Yes, that is Guy Fawkes. ASCII art and in its true spirit, I went in for a minimalist approach. Go wild!

I forget where I got the original ASCII art from, so apologies to whoever worked so hard on this.

Things I want to punch in the face - #2

2009-11-24T10:20:00.004+05:30

The Official karbage - Things-I'd-like-to-punch-in-the-face list:

Now these are not in order of rank, and are listed as they come to me, I will also list each one separately as I don't have time to finish the whole list all at once.

2) People who say 'Layne Staley is dead move on, it is not like William Duvall killed him' I say Fuck You.

Now if you did not understand those first few lines, you might as well quit reading right now. Anyway, if Jerry Cantrell wanted to make a band, he should have renamed it, I see no point to resurrecting AiC when Layne Staley is dead. Why did he choose to restart AiC? I think for purely monetary reasons. Some say... he sold out ;)

Layne Staley was AiC and AiC without him is like a revolution without dancing. It is just not worth having.

And what is the deal with this "William Duvall" guy? is he black? is he White? Is he indian? Is he Bihari? I mean look at him:

I wouldn't bat an eyelid if he walked up to me and introduced himself as biplav kumar behaari. Yeah? yeah? yeah? No? :(

Okay, I quit. Fuck you guys.

Things I want to punch in the face - #1

2009-11-19T11:15:00.005+05:30

So someone came to my blog searching for this post's very title, and I said, 'huh, I could try something like that cause besides I have been writing this crappy emo pseudo poetry since the past few posts.'

The Official karbage - Things-I'd-like-to-punch-in-the-face list:

Now these are not in order of rank, and are listed as they come to me, I will also list each one separately as I don't have time to finish the whole list all at once.

1) ABCDs - These are the sorriest motherfuckers on campus, ABCD is short for American Born Confused desi-desi being an Indian term for a fellow Indian, so these ABCDs; they think that they are American, but the Americans don't hang around with them, and they think that they are better than the Indians who are here to study and call them FOBs or Fresh Off the Boats, which is funny and a little ironic, anyway, they tend not to speak to 'these bloody smelly FOBs who don't know of the existence of deo or Cologne.' Therefore they are left to their own devices with no freaking clue of their identity, and are most often seen hanging out with other similarly clueless ABCDs. Now the term self-hating Jew is fairly common, but I am surprised to see that the term self-hating Indian is not more popular seeing as approximately a 100% of these ABCDs may be described as such.

Which is why I feel like punching every single ABCD I come across. The worst one are the ones who have been given names like Christopher Ramagopal or Johnathan Patel, HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!! I mean shut the fuck up I've seen post-rock songs with more meaningful names than these.

leif

2009-11-17T12:04:00.000+05:30

And we are all victims
aren't we?
sailing in a sinking boat
the end is certain
its only the 'when' that is not
and we go about
pretending like this is not true,
and instead of helping our fellow passengers,
we seem intent on pushing their heads down
so that they drown faster than us,
like as if that will buy us some time.
And when our last breath leaves our body,
we know the truth and cant ignore it any longer
and it is at this time that we repent
and ask for more time and another chance
at doing things right.
But we will be denied this
for it is a little too little
a little too late.
And we got what we deserved.

karbagisms - Religion

2009-11-11T09:24:00.003+05:30

Fuck religion.
Yeah fuck all of you morons who believe in it.
oh wait, fuck god,
who the fuck does he think he is?
making a system that is imperfect
What is this shit? the low self-esteem prophet?
And what is all this bullshit about the sanctity of life?
it isn't fair, and it ain't pretty,
screw you do-goodie two-shoes
and all these bastards
whose parents you wish never met
who go prancing around;
like as if the whole thing
is so great and awesome, gay ass shit is what it is
I tell you.
if speaking your mind is a sin,
then book me a one way ticket to hell
I don't care of the consequences...
But this is really fucked up.
And I don't like it one bit.

me

2009-11-10T09:25:00.002+05:30

Ignore the ugliness
and all you're left with, is me,
'cause this is exactly
who I wanted to be.
I may not have what I want,
I may not have what I need
but at least in my heart of hearts
I am absolutely free.

[a little emo? I think so]

embeeyay-schmembeeyay

2009-10-03T07:36:00.005+05:30

Should I do my MBA in the US?

This is a question that quite a few people will be looking at right about now. This question will get really important for those who have already written the "CAT" one of the most erratic exams possible, and undergone the IIMs' strange application process and come out without the elusive admit. The first time I wrote the CAT was in my final year of Engineering. We took a train ride to Calicut as there was no center at Surathkal, and scored some kickass 'green' after successfully making the auto guy understand what it was that we were looking for.

I woke up the next day, smoked 2 blunts because the one I had made for a friend was refused by said 'friend' and took the auto ride to the center with a pen instead of a pencil, I had never seen the paper nor had I known how many sections it carried.

I scored a 97.7 percentile.

ha! and my classmates who are now working for McKinsey & Co after graduating from IIMB had studied for 2 whole years and scored somewhere in the 98 percentile range.

Anyway, I was disgusted after a few more attempts where I did poorly in the ENGLISH section *facepalm* and decided to write the GMAT where I scored 760 ;D

Now coming to the question I have asked and which is why you might have landed on my blog in the first place.

Should you do your MBA in the US paying so much money, and raking up so many loans?

NO.

Here is why:

Now you might say that I have vested interests in saying that, after all, i am here already and I would like fewer people to get here to compete for jobs. I could. But you'll just have to believe me, right?

I met a senior of mine a few days ago, he had graduated in May 2009, a bad time I agree, and he left back to India. He was generally frustrated at the way things had turned out for him. A near perfect GPA and with consulting experience and still no job. But he was lucky, he had a GA and was from a very rich family, so he could afford to go back, but I know other Indians who are working for free because they can't go back with the kinds of loans that they have. They are still struggling, a fact I see when I find then loitering around the campus in desperate need of a job.

it is very frustrating when all these companies state that they are equal opportunity employers and then state that they do not hire international students. You might think it is not that big a deal but it kinda hurts and then I suddenly realize how people subjected to racism might have felt.

There seems to be a sort of Anti-India sentiment that is brewing up within the general American populace, they won't say it out loud and in fact I have some extremely friendly and caring American classmates, but in general, they resent us coming here and 'taking' their jobs away.

The MBA is a strange degree, you learn so much in so little time that you have hardly the scope to understand what it is that you are learning. Employers recruit them not because of what they have learnt but because being selected by the schools and completing the course implies intelligence and hence employability. In this economy however, they don't want to experiment and are taking only those people who already have experience in the field that they are looking for. Which means that the MBA which is traditionally a career switching degree, has now become useless.

With the drop in jobs this time the H1B visa quota might have gone unfilled, but the cap is still way too low. The American people under Obama, who is ironically more conservative that the republicans in this issue, seem to have forgotten what it is about this country that makes it so great; its willingness to accept any one from anywhere and the opportunities it provides them to achieve their goals and benefit everyone else. But with the populist decisions that Mr. change is making, I really don't know if it will not come around and bite them in the ass somewhere later down the line. Limiting the flow of talent from other countries to your's is not a good thing. Do they not know this?

I have a lot more to say, but I do not have the time. So unless you have a huge scholarship or a GA do not come to the US, or else you will be left second guessing yourself everyday, like I do. And for that apply early. The guys who have GAs in my class have fewer years experience, and lesser grades and scores in the GMAT than I do, the reason they were selected was because they applied in the first round and I in the third. Do not delay.

If you come from a poor family, write the CAT again and again until you get the seat. I will be getting back to India with an EMI of about 70k per month, how do I plan on repaying this? I have no clue and it scares me.

Now, don't get me wrong again, I like this country a lot, but I feel that they are losing their way and I don't want that to happen.

The sign, for foreigner, on the door to america

VLOG#1

2009-09-19T21:37:00.002+05:30

Hey guys, here is my forst vlog. I hate that word. The video sucks. An MBA is a useless degree. Have fun.

JD

2009-09-08T07:59:00.002+05:30

you guys know John Denver... Yeah yeah, country roads and all that patriotic humbug. The first time I heard that song was in school in Saudi Arabia. And I would try to imagine what West Virginia looks like because here was a man obviously awestruck by his state [which was located so far away it could as well be on a different planet] This was weird because from my experience, my state be it either Karnataka or AP was quite pale in comparison. We had no awesomely named mountains or rivers with catchy names.

Speaking of rivers; If you go further down the lyrics, you get to a point where he speaks about the 'Shenandoah River' remember???

Well... I swam in it yesterday.

life is strange isn't it?

I like choppers

2009-09-04T20:20:00.002+05:30

So I hear Y S Rajashekhar Reddy is dead. Died in a mangled mess of burnt flesh and disfigured body parts. Good riddance to bad rubbish, cause we all know that every time a politician dies, the world becomes a better place. I can't understand why the state should go into mourning for 7 days? Fuck YSR and fuck every self appointed 'public servant' there is. I hear that the entertainment channels on TV have been banned for a week. This is fascist nonsense, who is the government to tell me what I can do and what I cant do? Here's to hoping that this trend continues and a few more of these leeches get wiped out by providence.

not goodbye.

2009-08-29T05:18:00.002+05:30

Hmmm...

I guess that time has come to face the truth, I will probably be too busy in at least the first semester to write any interesting blog posts, because they take time and time is at a premium these days.

I do however promise to get back as soon as I find free time. This should happen in about 3 months time. Until then... take care, and "I'll be back" *in a thick Austrian accent*

Esque toi avec moi?

2009-08-17T04:21:00.006+05:30

This post is dedicated to Ashwinxn who poured a metaphorical bucket of cold water on me.

What I thought I would look like as soon as I got out of the airport.

I was pleasantly surprised to see that I had absolutely no culture shock when I got here. Absolutely no part of the society here surprises me. In fact the only thing that is strange here is that the sun sets at about 9pm screwing up my internal clock, the sun sets and a few hours later I feel like the day is young and bam! the clock says that the time is 11PM.

what I actually looked like. The change in my complexion, observed here, was due to the searing DC sun.

I am supposed to finish these two online courses that count toward my grades and I am the only guy in the class who hasn't started either of them[Oh wait, apparently a chick from Taiwan has not started either but come on... Taiwan?]. I live in a community filled with Indians, and believe me it is not fun. I find that the they are the least friendly people here. I don't mean to dis Indians but seriously, they have no social presence and hence are quite unpopular. I don't blame the Americans.

I lost my passport, degree scrolls, admit letters, I20 the minute I landed at IAD Dulles. But I got it back the next day. Man, the first day was crazy! running around the airport searching for the documents. The next day I saw MD, VA, DC and PA. Phew, tiring.

You would have noticed that this post is quite plain vanilla in its styling, but this is because I don't really have time to write more interesting stuff. I do promise that I will not entirely stop writing. I might write 1-2 articles per month at the least.

I feel lost without my guitars and plan on buying a cheap acoustic soon. A classmate of mine has an Ovation, and I plan on checking it out soon. And man, there are no single women in the US. The good thing is that I can use pandora here, especially valuable since last.fm just flushed itself into a toilet.

Anyway, I shall write a good post as soon as I can.

V

you-essay

2009-08-09T05:42:00.000+05:30

Well, I am here. More to come later.

Mars is non-vegetarian???

2009-07-31T04:09:00.002+05:30

Send your name to mars...
well, on a microchip at least.
Or not. Like for instance if you are NOT a geek, sadly I am one, so I have already sent mine, yay!!!. here.

And my god, Canada, freaking canada with its mounties and the baldwins has just overtaken India in the number of names sent, wtf??? lrn2win India!

ay-low

2009-07-29T02:54:00.000+05:30

Hello everyone.

I am dealing with complex emotions right now, and I am finding it tough to write. I will complete my 'report' of my trip to Delhi soon. I am sorry to keep you waiting. And when I say 'everyone', I mean Ritesh, and the two other people who read my blog [if you include me as I indulge in a narcissistic gloating of my own writing]

Until then...

Visa part 2

2009-07-19T15:34:00.003+05:30

So, where was I? Ah yes, I believe I was trying to show you how hard it is being me. Continuing from where I left off; So I am in the aircraft and I can see that this is not going to be the normal kind of flight, the people in this flight are mostly first time fliers or something, because every aspect of the plane seems to be fascinating them. Ever seen 60 year old grandmas with stained and or missing front teeth, going gaga-googoo over the scenery outside the window? all while standing in their aisle seats during takeoff? it is not a pretty sight folks. And for some reason, they all have shaved heads. Paranoia kicks in, what if these are the adherents of some obscure sex cult... what if they decide to release Sarin in the flight? or have an orgy, holy sweet mother of god, I think I would prefer that the plane just crash on its own.

I am sure there is no way they could have detected this sort of a plan, not in a country like India at least. And what do you know... the air hostess who was rude to me, is now struggling to make them remain seated. I am sitting in the last row, which according to my crazy crash phobic mind is the safest row in the aircraft. As soon as the pilot switches off the seat belt sign, fourteen, yeah you heard it right 14 of these middle aged, men and women, none of whom, save one, knows English, come to the back of the plane and make a line to use the loo. Now either their body functions are in sync, or they all couldn't wait to see what happens when you piss in an aircraft, does it fall down, hurtling through space striking random unfortunate old ladies [yeah, yeah, you must all have seen it, that image of a lady impaled by a yellow 'stick' purportedly frozen urine from an aircraft] just like our good old railways does it. Their motto: "Out of sight; Out of mind." Probably.

One gentleman looking especially lost, calls the air hostess. And then proceeds to ask her when the plane would land at Santa Cruz. And of the 40 or so people who heard it, I was the only one who burst out laughing. What is this? do we Indians lack a sense of humor? How the hell does one board the wrong plane? She then dutifully explains that the plane is in fact going to Delhi and not Bombay.

2 and a half Hours and many circles of Delhi later, our plane gets clearance to land on the new runway that opened recently, it is one of the longest in Asia, but do we have any cause for cheers? No! because it takes the plane another 15 minutes to reach the terminal from there. Now imagine this. The plane is taxiing, and its a bumpy ride, there are turns that need to be executed, and my awesome co-passengers are celebrating their return to hallowed Terra-firma by disregarding all safety procedures, one is trying to open the overhead compartment, endangering the heads of the passengers below, he gets a firm scolding and retreats amidst our laughter, all of them are calling up their homes to inform them that the plane has landed. Another line is forming for the the last chance at going to the 'plane toilet.'

Boy am I glad to be back on ground, ah, Delhi is a relaxing 35 DEGREES CELSIUS!!! in the middle of the monsoon. They open the aircraft door and hot air starts rushing in, trying to impress its dominance upon us mere mortals. What the hell am I doing here? I haven't been to Delhi in 14 years and I feel like I am a foreigner the minute I step out of the airport. To be continued...

Visa Part 1

2009-07-12T19:18:00.006+05:30

I was about to write a shortened version, knowing that no one would read an article 4 pages long, but I was convinced by a reader to do so anyway.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So the date is 9th July, the day after my birthday, and as usual, I have had a little too much to drink the previous night; as I needed to wake up early for my flight to New Delhi. I wake up with a hangover, and I haven't packed. The pessimism that is a constant companion of mine is killing my spirits. It is like that little stray dog that you fed a little bread out of pity and now it keeps following you around wherever you go. Thoughts such as: What if I don't get the freaking Visa? Would it not be an utter waste of time and money? And then there is the probability that my plane will crash. What if my original documents get stolen? What if terrorists attack the consulate just when I enter? and so on...

That I am now afraid to fly is funny because I have been flying since I was five. That first time, I traveled alone. And I must have traveled on not less than a few hundred flights till now, and at this age; I develop a fear of flying? Too much time spent on wikipedia is the cause for this nuisance. I basically know every possible way by which a plane can plummet to a fiery, meat ginding doom.

You know what would be even worse? me getting the Visa and THEN my return flight crashing, now that would be unfortunate, no?
Anyway, I have to fly to Delhi for the freaking interview. DELHI!!!? It's like flying to another country man, different people, different geography, even the air smells a bit different there! This is what I keep telling the people that I meet. I disguise it as a joke, but in my mind, I really believe so.

I haven't pressed my cloths and I forget to take my toothbrush and my belt. I try pressing my shirt with the iron at home. But my sister has burnt something on it, and now the plastic-y substance is melting off and staining my shirt, my sister! she can spoil a diamond and render it worthless. Yep, it's a talent, alright. Okay, no time, got to go. I will have to find some dhobi in Delhi. I buy a pack of 20 Classic Milds on the way, and finish all but four by the time I am ready to board my flight. Hyderabad airport, luckily, has a smoking lounge. Here they have an ad in cyrillic, strangely. Why? I do not know.

I get onto my flight SG-234 which has arrived from Coimbatore, and there is a man sitting in my seat. I hate it when this happens and I am hoping that they haven't issued the same seat to the both of us. I need the window seat you see, being able to see the flaps, the engine, the ailerons, etc., alleviates my fear a little, and although it usually means that going to the loo is a cumbersome task, I don't mind the trouble. I ask him what his seat number is? Hurray! it is not the same as mine, he is on the wrong seat, the fool doesn't know how to understand the simple graphic that is drawn on the overhead compartment which helps you locate your seat number. You know what I am talking about, that little pictogram of three seats with numbers and a small window that allows you to know which is the aisle seat and which is the window seat. I use my index finger to point to the picture and the guy sitting in the middle swiftly agrees with me, and tells the guy to shift.

He refuses to budge, he doesn't understand English and this is obvious to me only now. I pretend to not know Hindi, it has helped me many times before and it works, he moves away, most probably not wanting to do anything with this weird bloody-Indian who doesn't know Hindi. I mean, seriously, what kind of an Indian does not know Hindi, right?

Now that he is gone, I open the overhead cabin to put my only piece of luggage in it, and it is full, it is the second last compartment, and the one NEXT to the compartment where they store the medical supplies and extra life vests. I tell the pretty Air-hostess that there is no space in there. She rudely answers saying that that is where the first aid kit is and that I cant keep any thing there. I want to ask her if that is why there is a huge sticker that says "First Aid Kit" in large Helvetica staring me in the face. But then I realize that I don't care enough to try and tell her. So I sit. And start praying to a god that I don't believe in. The ancient Aztec god of Air Disasters: Ahyahuancnuatl, I promise him that I will stop fapping if I reach safely, a promise soon broken. Okay, so I lie, there is no such Aztec god, but hey, if they can invent them out of smoke and water, so can I! The plane starts its takeoff, well the worst of my 'human' problems are over I think. Naively.

The Aztec god Ahyahuancnuatl, or his brother-in-law, I am not sure. And yep, I see his problem, his wing's fallen off!

My Spicejet flight uses a Boeing 737-900, not my favorite aircraft, I prefer the rival Airbus A-320. And to make things worse, my pilot is not very good. He uses the airbrake excessively and doesn't even land it well. And all the time I am thinking that its just about to go down any moment now. To be continued...

mucho much?

2009-07-10T12:13:00.003+05:30

Hello iconoclastic denizens of the blogosphere, you children of the wind, left to your own devices by the vicissitudes of fate, you lucky pigs you, you; who have the time to read this drivel that spews forth from mine[sic]unholy keyboard, congrats! You have my seal of approval ;P

I must admit, I have been treating you guys very lightly, and as someone who believes that he writes for his readers, I have, undoubtedly, disrespected you. But nay say I not anymore, I promise to keep you ~~guys~~ updated from now onwards as all my worries are over, for the time being, at least.

The first order of business will be an article explaining this unnatural exuberance that I am unable to contain from spilling into this post. The truth is that I got my visa approved, and it was a breeze. The details of my encounter with the Visa Officer and my travails through Delhi will be duly elaborated upon in the post that I shall write as soon as I get back home to Hyderabad as you see I am currently at some internet place in Delhi, and the mood just is not right for writing my article.

To Hyderabad Ahoy!!!

cop out

2009-06-30T21:26:00.001+05:30

written circa 2003

bye bye, MJ

2009-06-26T03:35:00.006+05:30

Unconfirmed reports say that Michael Jackson MAY be dead.

I saw it first on /b/ and my first reaction, seeing as it was /b/, was; 'yep, it's shooped'

But, now I see the news story on CNN. I never liked him but the fucker is\was talented.

here is a story that says that he is dead!

update:: ~~Now they say that he is in a coma.~~

Nope, now they say that he has died.

WTF!! America? lrn2news.

Hola

2009-06-05T17:24:00.002+05:30

Hmmm...

It seems India bashing is not so popular. Who would have thought that the readers of a blog such as mine can also be patriotic :P

I am not able to write blog posts in my usual style because I am very frustrated right now. My PAN card has been under processing - not updated status since April even though I have sent them copies of all the required documents not once not twice but 5 times.

My DL which needs an address change is stuck up because the people at the RTO forgot to mention to me that they need a new snap, also, they are unable to 'print' the new card apparently.

So my Passport, my third one, is not being renewed as I don't have three ID proofs, and also since they are unable to schedule an appointment online due to some system errors.

My I20 is stuck in mumbai, UPS claims 'civil unrest' on its tracking page wtf?

This is the primary reason that has prompted me to write against the system in our country. Hence the India bashing, but the lack of enthusiasm on the new posts means that I have decided to shelf the remaining posts I had written and kept.

So, as you can see, it's not really a great time for me. Anyway, I do promise to start as soon as my problems get over, if.

Incredibly absurd India. Part 1.

2009-06-03T19:36:00.005+05:30

India.

My Great Country!

~~4000~~ ~~3000~~ ~~7000~~ heck I don't know lets just say 6000 years old!

'invented' the zero

Future Economic power

Largest Democracy

Friendly People

Let me show you a glimpse of my glorious India, the 'bulund bharat' the land of peace and prosperity. The one that people like Max Mueller and Francois Gautier fell in love with. The land of non-violence, where kids respect their elders and women are treated like gods, where the gods are merciful and the water; clear. Let us see what people have done to it.

Now, it will be impossible to have a comprehensive list of all the things that I want to talk about so I will focus on the ones that come to mind and will add the rest as they arrive. I don't get paid to write this, but I want you to read it. I want it to enter the collective conscious.

1) Athiti devo Bhava

Which is in sanskrit, that almost meta-physical language, the devbhash: the language of the gods, an almost purely synthetic language with an astonishingly modern structure to its grammar, it translates to this: "The Guest is equivalent to God" or something similar. My high school Sanskrit is quite weak as I studied it for just two years in Mangalore.

This saying is a part of the national identity, we are proud of this fact and realize that it is an uncommon sentiment, one that merits admiration from the rest of the peoples of the world. Heck, we even welcomed the Central Asian hoards who basically pillaged the entire subcontinent for a few hundred years.

That we still follow this tenet is remarkable, I have placed a map below to illustrate how we put this ancient, nay! over 6000 year old principle to practical use, thereby cementing our nation's place as one of the leaders of the future:

This is a map which shows the states that have the tourist police stationed there. Tourist police who? I don't really know, I had never heard of them, apparently they do exist. All of these states reported Cases of Rape and Molestation of Tourists in 2008, this does not mean that the other states did not. The article that I 'borrowed' it from states that the 'tourist police' is quite impotent or shall I say 'spunkless?'

Remember Bittu Mohanty? the rapist son of a DGP of police who raped a German Woman and then skipped bail? Whatever happened to him? I guess he must be stalking some other tourist to have his way with. A cursory search on google gives the following results:

No less than the Supreme Court of our country moved to stay his father's arrest, even though he was the one who posted his son's bail and I assume that he would have given some sort of surety. So there, fuck you OJ, we can do the same here in India.

Interesting to note is the result at the bottom which tries to make it look like the case was blown out of proportion just because of the victim's skin color, because you see, otherwise, getting raped is no big deal. Try telling that to the families of the victims.

Awww... Don't call it rape, it is not rape, we here in the department like to call it 'surprise sex' It is harmless, really and besides those white women were asking for it. Also, see this train? do you know why its windows are shut? * wink* * wink*

Perhaps the ultimate clincher for the police is the peculiarly Indian; experience, wherein the second one sees a policeman, one starts to feel guilty. And if you are involved in an incident when one decides to arrive, then god help you.

Amusing Anecdote #1: The other day, a drunk man entered our garden to lie down. After repeated attempts to evict him proved futile and instead made him belligerent, I called the police number 100. The guy picked up after 2 minutes and upon my explanation, said that he would send the police and cut the call before I had a chance to tell him my address. And that was it. They never came. Or they went to someone else's home.

Not feeling the pride, people :(

2009-06-03T16:47:00.005+05:30

This is the unused draft that I had, before deciding to make it more like a rant and add more photos. I will be shortly posting a series of posts on why I have gone from being an over-patriotic little boy in Saudi Arabia who was the only one in a class of 50 students who said that he was most proud of his country[they made everyone stand up and answer the question, most said that they were proud of their parents. When I said that, the teacher mentioned this to my mom (who also taught in the same school)] to a bitter adult who now just wants to leave the decadence and bad memories of this country and its horrible people behind.

Basically, I will be elaborating on the points that are mentioned in this discarded version of the post. It is going to be unapologetic, so please exercise caution. Also, remember: Free Speech, bitches.

Take care.

I love this country, but to be frank, we Indians can't really manage a country on our own.
I know, you might think that I am being irrational right now because I am frustrated at some sections of the government. But seriously, what kind of a country loses all its talent to brain drain? Wait! I am getting ahead of myself, here is a list of things any thinking individual must ask about this supposedly 4000 or 6000, or whatever number we like to quote, year old civilization?

What kind of country leaves garbage strewn around on the streets of all its cities?

What kind of country leaves its sewers open thereby killing blameless people?

What kind of country allows tourists to be raped and then the accused to skip bail?

What kind of country allows its citizens to be attacked in a foreign country and then loses its balls when dealing with the host country?

What kind of country loses patents on produce that is indigenous to it?

What kind of country

Bang-all

2009-05-23T17:18:00.010+05:30

After showering her native state of West Bengal with a plethora of development projects and activities Mamata Banerjee has now been entrusted with the job of repeating her achievements with the Indian Railways. What really makes her achievements all the more astonishing is the fact that she has done this while sitting in the opposition.

Barely a few years ago the state was in ruins with its pro-communist government doing what communism does best: making everyone equally poor except for a few. Think: "The lives of others" or the USSR for instance.

Here, in order to contrast the conditions in the state between then and now, are a few snaps of the state in its present glory, because words can only describe so much of what madam has done for her state.

Roti:

The ease of availability and the sheer quantity of food that is available is mind boggling.

Kapda:

The opulence of the people of Bengal may be seen from the expensive fabrics used in their clothing. (These women have gathered to protest the difficulty in obtaining enough caviar for the high society kitty parties that they hold.)

Makaan:

There is plenty of good cheap housing available for all.

And here is a one hit wonder oops! I mean world renowned writer showcasing West Bengal's tolerance of dissent and its commitment towards upholding the law of free speech.

"What? Fuck you! I can make up words in my writing and I can bloody well make up my own theories of science and imagine my own facts and stories. I have a booker gaddamnyou! I am special; like a heart shaped hole in the sky, and I can do what I want."

And finally an exclusive karbage scoop; The last snap is that of a nano the car that has been talked about the world over in front of its factory in Bengal along with Mamta Banerjee the lady who made it happen, the tata guy(I think his name is ratan or something) and some local people striking a pose for Karbage:

I told you the car was small.

Taking all of this into consideration and with Mamtaji's magical hands, I expect the Indian railways to be functioning, in a year at most, as shown:

The Bengal Express on its daily run or business as usual for the rail employees.

India Whining.

2009-05-15T00:13:00.010+05:30

It has been a while since I have posted anything that has been popular with the readers, that includes you, yeah you! I am speaking to you. Anyway, with the decrease in my readership due to the scarcity of updates and the decrease in quality of my posts, I see that the average visits per day has reduced to about 3-4.

Your author in a few weeks if the current readership levels(or the lack thereof)continue, and if he changes his race

Being the eternal optimist that I am, I have decided to look at the brighter side of said downturn. I realize that now that the people who usually come here are mostly just passing ephemera, I am going to not censor myself as I was doing earlier, the reasoning earlier was to not to alienate the readers. Now, I ask "what readers?"

So no more being politically correct, no more trying to be "within the limits of decency" and no more "fabrication" because we are a news disseminating agency goddammit, and I will not sacrifice my journalistic integrity anymore!!!

So here is my next piece of journalistic brilliance:

The All New Karbage List of People whose Parents should have Aborted them or in short The List of Unsuccessful Abortions:

5) Number five on the list is, surprisingly for some, this "Genius" why? because a) he does not know how to win a fucking match case in point: The Mumbai 1ndians. and b)Looking at his endorsements, you'd think the guy were bankrupt to stoop low enough to endorse some of the products he does case in point his endorsement for "Tiger Biscuits" Tiger biscuits??? WTF???

Give me some money and I will endorse Fascism if needed.

4)Fourth place goes to this prime specimen of what's gone wrong with our country:

The poof mommy feels y'all yeoh!!! peace out mah bizzles!

I mean who is she? What cave did she crawl out of to accept the post? I had never heard of her before. She looks like they took out a character from the India page of the "Handbook of Racist Caricatures of the People of the World" and breathed life into it. Who is it going to be next? A hindoo snakeman in a turban who can do the Indian Rope trick.

Who is it going to be next? This guy?

3) Third place goes to this unwanted piece of skin around an enormous asshole:

Totally not gay, y'all!

Why? only because he thinks he is a "king" of some sort and hence needs to constantly blow kisses for his circle-jerk fans (lest they die from teh cock deficiency) whenever the fucking cameraman pans to him. He is a king alright; The Faggot King of Douchebaggery.

2) The second place goes to none other than our favorite "writer," Hahahaohoh haha oh wow! no seriously, some people actually do consider her to be one.

like I am like 62 ya know but like I totally behave like I am like 16 like.

If by chance you do read her "articles" in the Times you'd think it was written by a 16 year old sorority chick who's just snorted some Xanax and guzzled a bucket load of cum from her latest blockbuster movie; one of the bukkake persuasion. The sheer banality of her writing and its utter lack of style or substance is enough to disorient and confuse the smartest of readers. So you can imagine what happens to a moron such as myself if he or she tries.

But the ultimate disorienting experience is the fact that above her article is usually an article by a sane, and intelligent writer like M.J.Akbar who clearly knows what he is doing.

1) And the grand prize winner is none other than our friendly neighborhood failed state:

One might wonder why, because a typical day there looks like this:

In Arcadia Ego???

I can't seem to say why.

So there you go, I hope you had fun, and boy have I invited a shitstorm with this one. Ah! fuck it, safe is boring.

Floatin Pigs

2009-05-07T17:40:00.007+05:30

I was pleasantly surprised when the city of Bombay, and no, I refuse to call it by its new name, resisted the efforts by those smarmy celebrities, self-assured news anchors, bored college students, cocks with candles and basically anybody with a fucking mouth to browbeat them into going and voting and choosing one from among the long list of devils available. With a turnout of about 48%, it is heartening to see that about half the population there still knows that the political system in our country is like a bullet through your brain; You cannot fucking fix it.

Broken NOT bent.

Do I vote for the BJP or do I vote for the Congress? Wait a minute what does it matter? they are all just different KINDS of a$$h0!es anyway.

Today, Delhi has gone ahead and done the same, as of now, the turnout is about 38%, wait a minute if I can remember correctly Delhi is the capital of our country or something isn't it? I mean, I know that we can't really be sure of any of this, what with all the fake and or incomplete historical records and our national hobby of exaggerating our 'culture', but if my second standard Geography is correct (or was it history??? or GK) I think it is. So the people who live right under the government's hideous nose don't care, why would anyone else?

Suspected location of Delhi. Courtesy our research team.

A polling booth in delhi; a stampede of voters eager to uphold the spirit of democracy.

K. Bedi another one of our so called National Heroes; mediocre hacks having risen to the top not due to their talent but due to a lack of competition, was seen on TV criticizing the people for not coming to vote and further adding that they didn't deserve the holiday. That the people don't care who comes to power shows the ludicrousness of available choice and the quality of the leaders who are contesting. Yes, you are right madam, the people don't need a holiday to ignore the political establishment in the country, they do that all year round. Our country prospers not because of you but in spite of you [I know, I know...cliched statement, but true nonetheless] because you can't even suck with any degree of competence.

Ms. Bedi lecturing on how you too can get your very own world famous kangaroo court reality show.

The Game

2009-05-01T09:02:00.004+05:30

Someone left me a comment that can be considered to be "confrontational" asking me to "change" the system instead of criticizing it. Barack obama's ghost is just not willing to die is it? Everyone from that chiranjeevi guy to these trolls seem to not understand what a cliche is and that they are not cool. Like that dick who keeps bringing up that Alanis Morissette song every time someone misuses the word "irony".

So let me get this straight, I haven't the right to express opinion? That you don't like how I feel is reason enough to make you want to stop me?

What is this? Conditional Free Speech???

The conversation usually goes something like this:

prima: Man, is it baking hot? I hate this shit.
Secunda: Oh yeah, why don't you do something about it, instead of just criticizing the weather?
prima: er...???

"Don't say something unless you are doing something about it." - Ein fascist vho duzn't unterstant free speechen.

"I think Fascist is a pretty cool guy. eh kills logic and doesn't afraid of anything."

Our backend research team has managed to locate a pair of these Conditional Free Speech Nazis and recorded their conversation as a guide to help those of you who believe in their ideology to carry out your own conversations while keeping in mind their rules.

Our research team, busy sorting data.

The conversation, as recorded:

Prima Nazi: ...
Secunda Nazi: ...
Prima Nazi: ...
Ssecunda Nazi: ...

Oops, it's not working that well for them. The system. Is it?

cough morons coughcant breathecough

2009-04-24T16:45:00.005+05:30

Now we all know Aakriti, what's that you say, you don't? Hmmm, it is probably because you don't watch the news because her story is all that the news channels these days talk about. politics, elections?? what elections????

So she was a 17 year old girl who died of an asthma attack, and now every tom dick and harry in Delhi is baying for the principal's head, because all of a sudden the sanctity of life and the criminal negligence of the school are everything that the self-righteous, we-wanna-pretend-to-be-Barkha-Dutt-for-the-duration-of-the-while-that-this-news-item-is-in-the-limelight people think about. These are the same people who will throw their parents into an old age home, overtake from the left, accept bribes at work, and ogle at the neighbor's daughter when they get home.

So, Anyway I know that the girl is dead there is no point in offering her any advise but perhaps someone else in a similar situation can derive the benefits from it:

Anyway, the funny part is that every one of these holier-than-thou protesters is secretly thinking "Thank god it wasn't me or my daughter, phew"

"Aww come on Karbage, it is only human nature" You say.
and I say: yes, precisely the point.

The girl's mom says that she wants the principal to resign if only for the other girls, what she really wants is revenge. There is nothing wrong with her wanting revenge, however masking it as concern for others is the mark of a beast.

And did you happen to watch her classmates? It was the perfect example of USI [Unwarranted Self Importance]: 17-18 year old north Indian chicks screaming their guts out mainly because, well let's face it, they CAN. Where were they when their friend was in trouble, did none of them have the presence of mind to call for an ambulance? or even call her parents? I would suggest the use of the following avant garde, new fangle invention of space technology:

I mean for someone to die of an asthma attack in the presence of other people, in the middle of a city in 2009 is like you dying due to massive blood loss from a pin prick in a blood bank. It is absurd, so you can imagine the incompetence of everyone involved including her so called friends.

Laptops are people too.

2009-04-21T12:46:00.006+05:30

So is there anybody out there? who does this:

You use your laptop on its battery supply, lost in your work, you don't realize this until it starts to hibernate. That is when you try to stop it by hurriedly connecting it to the power supply, in the naive almost comically pathetic hope that the computer will now, in light of the fact that the power supply has resumed, decide to put a halt to the process of hibernation and resume working.

yeah?

yeah...?

No?

:'(

Ok.

==========================

Addendum:

Welcome to India; the country of mismanagement galore, where a law abiding citizen such as myself has to submit himself to farcical government procedures and protocol in order to get a passport renewed [the funny part is that while I can technically use my passport as a universal address proof since it is one of the toughest documents to forge, I can't use it as proof with the authority that issued it to me and which is going to issue me with the renewed document. Does this make sense to you? ] while alien terrorists like Ajmal Kasab can coolly just waltz into the country on a rubber dinghy and use live people as targets for shooting practise. I need to bribe the bastards at the RTO to register my car in time while the government allows aliens like Quattrochi to gaily withdraw funds from seized bank accounts. I could just go on and on. I am disgusted with the people of our country. I seriously am.

So I have been trying to renew my passport since last month, first the fucking agent made a mistake in counting and incorrectly assumed that I was an adult [he calls it 'major'] when I got my previous passport, so I had to return after 4 hours of boredom in the passport office. Then comes the strike that the workers were on; which lasted until this monday, now it seems that I need 3 proofs of ID and a police verification as well. All of this for a fucking renewal, this will be my third passport. God I hate these slothful government bureaucracies, and those we-stink-worse-than-smegma[this is apparently an adjective] governments employees,and these archaic rules that the whole world has abandoned except for our glorious nation.

Indianism.

2009-04-07T16:48:00.006+05:30

Have you ever wondered if you are truly Indian at heart?
That an authentic Indian heart beats within the confines of your chest, and that you are worthy of being an Indian and holding an Indian passport? After all, getting a passport in our country is equivalent to performing the twelve labors of Hercules, and that too without his powers. Case in point, the guy in front of me when I had gone, unsuccessfully, to renew my passport; was asked to go back home for the third time because the bank manager, this time, had signed on the wrong side of the letter. Anyway that is besides the point.

Ooh Ooh, can I have mine in Purple?

What were we talking about? Oh yes: do you wonder if you are truly Indian? if you do, do not fear for I, karbage, most gracious; most merciful, purveyor of the three worlds, knower of the unknowable, custodian of the two holy tenets: freedom of speech, and the "leave me alone" directive, have come up with a sure fire test to give you hapless mortals concrete proof of your indianness or its lack thereof.

Test: In order to perform the test you must find the northeast direction, which is why I would prefer you did the test on a laptop, and read out the following prayer, you must make sure that the direction is NE as Vaastu commands you to utilize the positive vibrations that propogate along the lay lines which lie in that cardinal direction.

"Lord God, It is I, your humble creation, I seek your guidance in solving a particular problem that is haunting my conscience. I need to know whether I am truly Indian or not, so I would like to pressurize you to come forward and reveal to me the answer to my humble question."

Now, here is the actual test, IF at no point of time during the prayer did you laugh out loud because you saw yourself putting your god, whosoever it might be: jebus, FSM, or Xenu, in a cooker with some water and...

Then, you my friend are definitely Indian inside. In which case you are entitled to wear the Indian Inside tee, as this woman who has undoubtedly passed my test, has done. On a side note doesn't the chick look like chief Wiggum's long lost daughter?

Available in all sizes and shapes.

Your author unfortunately Phails this test big time, and was subsequently beaten by his mom for laughing out loud when she used the word "pressurize" in a non-engineering context

payback

2009-03-30T00:26:00.005+05:30

Hmmm...

So you all diligently follow my blog, you spend a few bytes of your internet bandwidth and a few minutes of your time, all for maybe a quite chuckle in your head once in a while that is... if I have been somewhat creative in an article. This happens rarely and you are beginning to think 'okay, does this crappy blog deserve the time and energy I spend in reading it?' and it is quite possible that you may answer that question with a 'NO'

So, as a thanks, I am going to suggest an album, and a comic that I think you should download and\or buy and listen and\or read.

This is an album called Pale Blue Dot by Benn Jordan. You could call it experimental or space electronica or breakcore, basically he uses dissonance really well and layers his samples to create very atmospheric, three dimensional sounding pieces, and with a tinge of melancholic sadness that keeps you listening. Not many might like this one, but that does not mean that it is not good. So go ahead, if you are feeling especially brave, try the album out. I like to imagine that it is the kind of stuff that the Silver Surfer might hear on his voyages through the vastness of space on his cool surfboard at speeds greater than the speed of light.

The Silver Surfer by the way is the protagonist of the comic that I am going to suggest to you today, released in 2007, Si1ver Surfer Requiem, was interesting enough to keep a DC fan and a silver surfer noob like me, interested enough to hunt for and finish reading all four issues of this mini-series. That is not all, I am now a fan of the silver surfer, even if his other stories do not match up to this one[once I read them of course]. To put it in perspective; my favorite superhero would be Batman for his human-ness and the complexity of his character, his flaws and his strengths. While the Silver Surfer has my admiration for the perfection of his ideal, his infallibility, his almost godlike purity. So the issue to really watch out for is #2 where he and spidey have a conversation; which is well worth the effort of downloading it. And any story that effectively quotes Shakespeare can't be all bad right?

What I would suggest is that you listen to the soundtrack while reading the four issue series. they match like they were meant to be. I guarantee that your experience will be a memorable one.

All links are found through google. Credit goes to the original uploaders.

Sitting in a tree.

2009-03-27T15:51:00.002+05:30

I got this as a email a long time back. I spent a lot of time searching for it because I liked it and wanted to read it again, it definitely looks apocryphal; but who cares for accuracy huh? You could also call it sexist or inappropriate, I don't really care. It is fun to read and that is what I am looking for :)

I promise that my next article will be original. But for now, read this one please. Or not. Whatever.

==============

This assignment was actually turned in by two of my English students:
Rebecca and Gary

English 44A

SMU

Creative Writing

Professor Miller

In-class assignment for Wednesday:

Today we will experiment with a new form called the tandem story. The
process is simple. Each person will pair off with the person sitting to
his or her immediate right. One of you will then write the first
paragraph of a short story. The partner will read the first paragraph and
then add another paragraph to the story. The first person will then add a
third paragraph, and so on back and forth. Remember to reread what has
been written each time in order to keep the story coherent. The story is
over when both agree a conclusion has been reached.

——————————————

At first, Laurie couldnt’ decide which kind of tea she wanted. The
camomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now
reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he
liked camomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind
off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about
him too much her asthma started acting up again. So camomile was out of
the question.

Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron
now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than
the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he
had spent one sweaty night over a year ago. “A. S. Harris to Geostation
17″, he said into his transgalactic communicator. “Polar orbit
established. No sign of resistance so far…” But before he could sign
off a blueish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole
through his ships cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying
out of his seat and across the cockpit.

He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt
one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had
ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless
hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Sklylon 4. “Congress Passes
Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel.” Laurie read in her
newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her.
She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth - when the days had
passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspapers to read, no
television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the
beutiful things around her. “Why must one lose one’s innocence to become
a woman?” she pondered wistfully.

Little did she know, but she has less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands
of miles above the city, the Anu’udrian mothership launched the first of
its lithlum fusion missiles. The dim-witted wimpy peaceniks who pushed
the Unilateral Aerospace Disarmament Treaty through Congress had left
Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were
determined to destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage
of, the treaty the Anu’udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying
enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop
them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithlum fusion
missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his
top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast
of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosian which vaporized Laurie
and 85 million other Americans. The President slammed his fist on the
conference table. “We can’t allow this! I’m going to veto that treaty!
Let’s blow’em out of the sky!”

This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My
writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic, semi-literate adolescent.

Yeah? Well, you’re a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at
writing are the literary equivalent of Valium.

Asshole.

Bitch.

Brou-ohno

2009-03-23T12:29:00.007+05:30

[background to this article:

me: I want an innovative article, on a subject that no one has thought of.
karbage: Hmmm... You could write one on politics.
me: Yeah, but everyone is writing about it.
kargabe: So make it unique and interesting, then.
me: But I know jackshit about politics.
karbage: make shit up, and add pictures, lots... of... pictures]
-------------------------------------------

Is there anyone else out there who is sick and fed up of this whole Election euphoria?

Anyone else out there who wants to kick those people in that 'jaagore' ad? You know the one... where a wise-ass midget and his billy goat-like concubine resort to bullying in order to, ironically, 'force' people to utilize their 'freedom' to vote. And if I am mistaken and it is a duty not a right, then I want out of the country.

Yup, this guy. Don't you want to knead him in the balls?

Anyone else who wishes that all these political parties shut the hell up and their members commit seppuku?

Phew, I feel better now. Much better.

Right, what I want to say is that there is really no party that deserves to come to power, the congress claims to be secular and claims to look after the minority groups, well, they had the country in their grasps for almost 50 years, and what did they do? nothing. The BJP is equally bad, and is good mostly for infighting and shooting itself in the foot. the left is still, I shit you not, STILL blaming the Zionists and the Imperialists for its woes. Let me say that again, they are blaming 'people who want their own Jewish homeland' and 'people who followed a now extinct European ideology' for their problems.

ONOZ, a Zionist!!!!!!!eleventyoneone1111111!!! Run away!

I was supposed to write a much longer article but I just realized that whatever I am going to say has already been said a million times before, so instead I am just going to say: Fuck It, I am not going to vote, instead I will sit at home and relax during the holiday that they give doing something more productive and fulfilling like staring at a wall or perhaps I could try self-trepanation. Which I hear is a pretty simple operation that one can easily do at home, observe:

[admittedly, this article has been poorly thought out, but that is what happens when Indian Politics gets involved. Maybe I should try contesting. I have the prerequisite minimum stupidity]

The jaagore website; forgetting that not everyone is eligible to vote.

edit

2009-03-14T18:05:00.001+05:30

An apology to my regulars who at last count numbered three, if you count me as well. I am a little busy right now, so no more updates until say the end of next week.

So until then, have fun, enjoy the karbage free days, days that you can look upon in the autumn of your lives and reminisce fondly about. "Ah those" you'll say "they were simpler more carefree back then, especially with Karbage not around, phew, I miss those days" while your monstrous grandchild that everyone else dreads plays happily in the tranquility of your lap. No?

where art me glasses maitie?

2009-03-05T13:19:00.005+05:30

A small section of Indian society is quietly staging a revolution. The rest are busy trying to beat the recession and live their ordinary lives as ordinary people are oft to do.

Pray, tell, what is this revolution you say?

Apparently there was some guy in the 40's called Mahatma Gandhi or something. I am not sure what he did or why he was famous, a cursory glance at the history of our country revealed absolutely no achievements on his part, oh that is unless you call having a bad fashion sense and Anorexia Nervosa as achievements. By that logic the 16 year old version of my sister has had "achievements"

So anyway, I tried to google his image, but his obscurity made the process a little bit difficult. The research department at karbage which has not been paid in 3 years and is threatening to quit believes that this is the only photo of his in existence:

Mahatma Gandhi. Probably.

So anyway, some of his items are being auctioned off, and the Indian government has just woken up to this fact. They now want to stop the auction and get back the items because it is and I quote 'a part of our national heritage.'

Oh is that true? so is that why the government took 60 fucking years to get off its lazy ass and realize this shit? 60 years, and no one made an attempt to get these things back until now? How? Oh I get it, all of a sudden money was being made off the items and we Indians wanted in on the action. I read the answers to questions that the guy who is selling the items was asked, and he basically screwed the reputation of our country by saying that if India needs it back, it needs to spend more money on the poor. Touche! Indian government. What will you say now? Because what it has to understand is that not doing enough for people who are dying from hunger and poor living conditions is as BAD as the sort of human rights abuse that our illustrious neighbors like China and Bangladesh regularly call 'protocol'

Also, it is easy when you are dealing with a single person to try and bully him or use emotional blackmail to make him return the stuff. Why not we go further and ask for the kohinoor back? Oh wait it is in the possession of the the royal family in the UK. Does anyone in India have the balls and the character to fight for ITS return?

well...

anyone?

I didn't think so.

monkey business again

2009-03-01T16:08:00.003+05:30

Originally published Wednesday, February 06, 2008

Here is a short 'story' I had written a while back, it was liked so I thought I would put it up here again. It's been long anyway.

Monkey Business.

Meanwhile, back at TeeCeeEss on the day of the big 'Client Visit', a day when the clients visit the development center to make sure their money is being spent in the right areas.

Characters:

Mr Deepak: Project Manager, has hung around at the company because no other company would even dare touch him. Earns literally a few peanuts per day. Is very happy.

Peepee: A wild rhesus monkey. Has a penchant for throwing his faeces at people when irritated. Earns a few peanuts per day, isn't happy, wants more.

Mr Rahul: A programmer who adores the company, is willing to work 20 hours a day at the expense of his personal life, so much so that he hasn't any left anymore. Earns a peanut a day. Is very happy. In fact feels he doesn't do enough work to deserve a WHOLE peanut.

Mr Jack: A gullible American. Thinks that all Indians are so cool! can't digest the fact that the kids at the center are almost 30-40 years younger to him. Earns so much money, I can't even count till there. Is not happy, wants more to pay for the mortgage on his villa.

------------------------

Act 1
=====

It is 9 AM, every one is busy trying to look busy.

The Client comes in to the development center with his entourage of white colleagues and some Indian suckups, it is the middle of the day on a hot summer Friday and they are wearing suits. The Slaves Zombies Programmers have been denied that little joy and have been asked to come wearing formals on casual Friday so that the lowly Indians look a bit more presentable to the White folk.

The client's 'posse' stops near a group of Slaves Zombies Programmers, who have been coached.

Mr Rahul: Sir, we write code here that takes the information coming from the US, and then we use Fermat's last theorem as a cost effective leverage to extract the required information, on which we apply an nth derivative fractal transform, and we convert the dollar amount into rupees. We then map the values onto a 3-dimensional matrix space which is np determined which allows us to get a dollar amount back again. We then pass this back to you.

Mr Jack: I like the sound of that. I mean Wow, Impressive! Do you guys need anything else ?

Mr Deepak: Oh yes, we would like you to increase the contract rate to 40$ an hour.

Mr Jack: Sure, sure, anything, I like your team's dedication.

Mr Deepak: Oh and one more thing Mr Jack, we would like you to pass the directive for a new 'team-member'. His name is Peepee. I would like your permission to initiate his VISA process.

Mr Jack: well, Indian names are difficult to pronounce aren't they ?

Mr Deepak: someone, call Peepee.

(Peepee is escorted to the entourage)

(Mr Jack is perplexed.)

Mr Jack:Are you sure you want THIS... ?

Mr Deepak: Oh yes sir.

Mr Jack: But...it is a monkey!

Sir! 'HE' is a new recruit
[he is sensitive about being called it, sir] (he whispers).
He is a brilliant programmer, we need him to leverage the...

(Mr Jack cuts in)

Mr Jack: Yeah, yeah, I understand, but...

Mr Rahul: Sir, he will bring productivity up by 49.8641%

Mr Jack: Ok, Ok, Initiate the process. By the way, what is his skill set ?

Mr Deepak: Well, he is proficient in Java, .NET, PERL, HTML, CSS, SAP, PHP and poop throwing.

Mr Jack: poop what ?

SPLAT!

Pale Blue Universe.

2009-02-25T01:47:00.004+05:30

I have written about our pale blue dot on earlier occasions. But this is an ode to my planet, as heartfelt as my mediocre poetic talent allows it to be.

Ode

Nothing as calming
and welcoming
as the photograph
of our beautiful little planet,
as it hurtles through space,
shielding us from the harsh realities
of the universe,
this is my home
and yours, and everyone Else's.
I love our planet.
There may be many more like it,
but this one is ours
and I am a part of it just as it is a part of me.
We are by nature ungrateful.
Yes, cynical is what I am.
And we don't deserve such a forgiving planet
who shelters us and gives us food and
makes life possible for us.
We pollute her,
and slowly but surely obliterate her
beauty
with our crass symbols of 'civilization' and
yet she tolerates it.
It is almost as if
we deliberately
want to destroy the delicate balance
that makes our planet
the life nurturing entity that it is,
and yet she remains
as hospitable as ever.
We have but one planet,
it is a shame that we won't realize this
until it is too late.

Here:

That is the international space station, passing in front of the moon. So, I hear you say that it is a unique snap, so what? Aren't we talking about the earth here?

If you will notice, the space station seems to have a bluish tint, that is earthlight. Your representation for the rest of the universe. The bright bluish warmth of tranquility.

[Sorry, felt like ranting.]

1\6th

2009-02-23T20:38:00.004+05:30

Welcome to another edition of 'Moron of the week'

Every once in a while, a ~~man~~ nay a rebel comes along, who says 'hey you, common sense! screw you, I am not going to listen to you,' and this week it was A.R.Rehman who decided to show of the inner moron in him at an event as glamorous and as widely watched as the Oscars. Now saying corny stuff like 'I was given a choice of love and hate and I chose love and here I am at the Oscars' is quite embarrassing in itself. But it doesn't qualify you as a moron just yet. It is when along with this you decide to tell a joke that things really start to take shape. You see, by introducing the element of the 'joke' we are in fact introducing fertile ground for committing ~~faux pas~~ moronic acts of stupidity. Now, it is here, that he shows his true talent.

How did he do that you ask?
Well, he apparently went to joke hell, seeking what is probably the first joke that was ever made. The granddaddy of all jokes.

We, here at karbage like to think that this might have been how the conversation that gave birth to this gem of an example of human un-funniness might have gone:

Caveman#1: ssup brah?
Caveman#2:enggh... the usual, killed a brontosaurus for lunch.
Caveman#1: Cool, I fought a saber toothed tiger, the wife developed a sudden craving yesterday
Caveman#2: Ooh boy, that must have been hard.
Caveman#1: oh yeah brah, definitely. I was excited and terrified at the same time, the last time I felt like that was when I married the wife.
Caveman#1: I feel ya brah, I feel ya.

And by uttering that punch line, the one that we have heard countless drunk 'I think I am so funny'-uncles utter in parties, A.R.Rehman has rightfully attained his place here on Karbage.

Rehman crooning the lyrics to his latest hit: " I fought a saber tooth, and it was easier than getting married."

I confess. I did watch the results of this year's Oscar Awards. On the News of course.

Obamaism

2009-02-18T15:59:00.005+05:30

Being the agent of cataclysmic social change that I am, I can't help but compare myself to the likes of Jesus and Buddha, or maybe the man who invented the wheel even. So it comes as no big surprise that I had the chance to meet and interview another man who has the power to shape the events of the world, much like I do; Mr. Obama.

OB as I shall refer to him from now on(we go way back you see), was his usual animated, and articulated self. If you remember correctly, karbage has had a change in policy with its focus being shifted from somber, melancholic topics to more lighthearted, frivolous ones. So I made it a point to keep the questions more trivial and less profound.

Here, as always, is a sneak peek at part of the transcript.

Me: So Mr. obama, it is a fine day for some golf isn't it? the weather is fantastic wouldn't you agree?

OB: We are at the gates of momentous times[Frowns]. I foresee a future where our children-children of hard working Americans[Looks to the left then looks to the right], can expect to experience such weather all throughout the year and it is up to you and I[He seems to be getting a little animated at this point] to bring about this change in...

An hour later...

...are right karbage, I believe that it is a great day.

Me: Hmmm, o-k-a-y, that was a more detailed answer than I had expected.

Me: Tell me, what did you have for breakfast today?

OB: karbage! There was a time when my father[Thumps his chest at this point] would not have been served any food in this great country, but the change that I have seen has...

Another hour later...

and so taking these historical metamorphoses that have occurred in our great country's history into consideration[Gesticulates wildly]; I decided to have a BLT for breakfast.

Me: Are you left handed?

OB: Abraham Lincoln once said[OB kicks his chair away as he rises while looking to the sky with his arms outstretched]...

to be continued...

Interesting character. No?

I was kind enough to agree to a wish of his. He wanted me to post this particular snap he had of his on this blog as he is well aware of the fact that billions if not gazillions of people read this, every day.

Now, my bitchy 6 year old neighbor said that she thought that the snap was photoshopped, and that she suspected me of fraud, well, I have seen quite a few photo-manipulations in my lifetime, and looking at the pixels, I can confidently say that this is not photoshopped in any way whatsoever. I mean come on, only god can photoshop that well. And I am not god. well, ok, maybe I come close ;)

See! Not photoshopped.

tryina be a funnya

2009-02-16T21:50:00.005+05:30

So I have decided.
Not many people like to read depressing stuff.
This fact never occurred to me.
I thought that it was a normal thing.
But, it is not.
I guess the fact that life is ephemeral is not that big a deal to the others.
I have therefore decided to post all my depressing stuff on my other blog.
This blog will be used only for the funny posts.
Also, I have stumbled upon, what I assume is, a great idea for a comic.\
If it takes off, I shall post link here.
So stay tuned.
or not.
I am not a fascist.
Enjoy your illusion of freewill.
I know I do.

As a bonus, here I am, apparently cool enough to pull off the 'Hey you! I have a cool pair of glasses and I am gonna leave on the tag because fuck you' look

And can you believe that this was taken at a time when I was slightly smarter than I am right now. Things look bleak for me eh? hehe.

Yell-oe

2009-02-14T22:42:00.004+05:30

Yet another Valentines day passes by.
You know what?
I think all couples are evil.
and that they made up this day to poke even more fun at us single folk.
While they hide behind the cocoon of their unholy, unfalsifiable, solipsistic universe.
It is a bit like celebrating 'Not Handicapped' day.
Where all day long we celebrate the fact that we are not physically handicapped by prancing around doing that Russian dance thing in front of people who are. Because being normal, with working limbs, is such a wonderful, tender and beautiful thing isn't it?

Okay, okay, maybe a bit harsh, and unoriginal too [1000 points for you if you guess whom I stole it from]

But, yeah, this is me.

And for those of you wondering what the Russian dance thing is, it is this:

FYIAAK

2009-02-11T11:15:00.007+05:30

Now, we all know that Christian Bale is my favorite actor. He lost a staggering 63 pounds for his role in 'The Machinist'- one of my favorite films of all time. BUT. We have our own little Mr. perfect- Amir Khan. Who is like a chameleon, even. With a slight change in his hairstyle, and physique, he transforms into the character he plays. Not to mention that his oh-so-original idea of not attending any award shows automatically makes him worthy of an award, alas, he will probably skip this award too.

As a respected and world-renowned blogger cum social commentator extraordinaire, I was invited exclusively to interview Mr Amir on his latest movie. If you thought that losing 63 pounds was a cataclysmic transformation, wait till you hear what Amir has managed to pull off for his latest movie- which people say is a liberal re-imagining of the critically acclaimed box office hit Marley & me. Here is a sneak peak at the transcript of the interview.

(
Me: So, Mr Amir Khan, how are we feeling today?

AK: I am fine thank you except I feel a little itchy. Could you scratch my back please?

Me: Ummm... Okay, I guess!
[I scratch his back, although I am not too pleased]

Me: So how did you land the part in the movie and what is it called?

AK: It is called Marley Aur Mai. And I play the part of Marley, the adorable but neurotic Labrador Retriever. I was initially approached to play the Owen Wilson part, but I realized that playing the part of the canine was more fun and definitely more challenging. Plus you see I am always looking towards perfection, and this is a great opportunity for me.

Me: Huh huh, huh huh, I see, but how did you manage to turn into a Labrador Retriever? You see, although I am sold, we have some smart cynical people reading my blog, and they would be skeptical so as to the possibility of such a transformation. [Do not worry folks, I have some snaps that he was kind enough to let me take, I shall post them here.]

AK: Oh, that was easy, I went about it in steps. First, came the sex change, as the director felt that a female dog would resonate better with the audience. Next, came the actual process of turning into a dog. I just closed my eyes, concentrated really hard and voila! I then became a dog, because **** you, I am Aamir mother****ing Khan man, I can do what I ****ing want, yeah?
[at this point he started pushing me with his paws and growling at me. I can't believe he touched me, I am so lucky!!!]

Me: Okay, and what advice do you have for your young fans and the aspiring actors in the industry?

AK: Woof!
[oops, I directed my question at Scotch my pet Labrador instead of AK, yeah, his transformation is that good]

Me: One last question, what do you have to say about your detractors? who say that your talent is merely mediocre and that it is amplified only because of the lack of any real talent in the industry like that saying about the one eyed man in the country of the blind, it was Erasmus I think; who came up with that one, and also, that not attending the award shows is a gimmick?

AK: Oh I am not going to dignify their comments by saying anything? Instead, I am going to bite those b*****ds in the ****ing crotch, and p**p all over their lawns. Also, can you scratch my ears please?

contd...)

Aamir khan in his new avatar, striking a pose for the readers of Karbage.

AK and Scotch chilling out at Hyderabad beach.

And so, here ends another post. Until next time, stay safe weird people who read weird blogs for kicks.

This is karbage, signing off.

Am I alive?

2009-02-07T14:38:00.002+05:30

I am sorry you guys,

I have been going through a difficult phase so I did not feel like writing. I will start from tomorrow.

A conversation in my head:

Prima: Life is hard, isn't it?
Secunda: Yeah, and that is what makes it so much fun.

PP sucks!!!

2009-01-26T10:57:00.004+05:30

I was not supposed to post for a little more time, this is a very impromptu post; just to vent my frustration.

Is there ANYBODY else out there who cringes every time he or she sees the president of our country?

I mean, come on. Who the hell selected her? And what has she done to deserve the highest position in the country? Shouldn't personal achievement or dare I say even charisma be a factor in your selection? All I know about her is that her husband was under the scanner for using government money for personal purposes. Yeah, that is a great resume madam. Yeah, so I am too lazy to try and find out what her claim to fame is, but hey! I had no such problem with our previous president; a man I greatly admire and respect.

As far as I am concerned, she looks like a dirty old hag, I hate her so much so that this is the second time I am writing about how I feel that she is a pathetic loser.

Now, you could say that I am biased against her because her stupid entourage passes from near my house when she comes to visit her "summer palace" causing wide-scale traffic jams and stealing precious hours out of my life- hours that I will never get back :( Filling me with uncontrollable existential rage.

I do NOT appreciate the fact that this retarded looking, dried up, "hey I got selected because my pals run this country even though I have no talents or achievements whatsoever"-hag is my representative? And dear god, she visits other countries, and then we blame them for thinking that we eat monkey brains, all know the rope trick and that we all wear turbans.

Oh if you are so smart, who would you pick, Einstein? I hear you say?

My pick would be: Shashi Tharoor

I am just saying that I think that the post of president should not be filled by such an arbitrary process. And that we should be happy when they appoint a nobody to the post.

Your thoughts?

Haha, I must be kidding; no one comments on this crappy blog.

Oh here, is a video of an idiot trying to play some Tool songs. Sorry I forgot to play some others songs of Tool that I knew, but this is a no-retake video zone, so you get many many errors.

Enjoy, or at least try.

bankrupt.

2009-01-22T21:59:00.006+05:30

Everybody is talking about Slumdog Millionaire. Now I haven't seen the movie myself. Why ? because if everyone says good things about a movie, I tend to dislike it with a prejudice that can only be surpassed by the prejudice that is spawned out of jealousy.

Hell, the king of all douchebags Tom Cruise was talking about it. Now I definitely don't want to see it soon.

It might be a great movie for all I know, I will comment on it when and if I see it.

But what is pissing me off is the commotion that the movie is creating in the highly objective, unbiased, and totally mature Indian media [home to such award winning journalists as Barkha Dutt and with people whose spoken English is so good, it puts the BBC and the queen with their "RP" English to shame], and the local Indian film industry- an industry known for its ground breaking artiste-ry, cutting edge ideas, critical acclaim, and the richness of its subject matter. Oh wait! today ISN'T opposite adjectives day. Sorry 'bout that.

Anyway, I get confused when I turn on the TV these days.
Really confused.
Do these fucking morons actually think that it is a Bollywood movie?
Because it sure looks like they do.

You see, this movie could have been made in bollywood. The novel is by an Indian, it has an Indian cast, and some or most of it was shot India [I am guessing] BUT we didn't.

Why ?

Because our people are busy making such gems such as... I don't know, but you know what I am talking about; those big budget movies with gratuitous violence and sex with an 'acclaimed' star cast and no artistic merit or talent whatsoever?

it is like the time that Sunita Williams chick went to space, they thought that she was Indian and got all excited.

Typical 'acclaimed' actor in its natural state of douchebagness

And then we wonder: "vat yaa? why our movies never win awards yaa?"

I heard a news channel say that the closest we came to an Oscar for best picture was with 'Lagaan.' Are you freaking kidding me? did you see the movie which won that year?
No Man's Land.
Do I think lagaan had any chance? yeah, if it were opposite day, or if the world collectively lost its wits from a freak event leaving only the cast and crew of lagaan mentally fit enough to come to a decision, then maybe.

the slumdog's reaction upon being asked of Bollywood's chances at the Oscars.

The co-director loveleen tandan[ a totally normal name y'all] pictured below had this to say about Danny Boyle:

"David who ?" - loveleen on Boyle

H

2009-01-20T23:10:00.003+05:30

Well, I just finished watching Obama's inauguration, with a nice performance by Yo-yo Ma and others, Obama was as usual very animated and tried really hard to be 'profound.'

But, it was all good. Obama is a welcome breath of fresh air.

However, they called a poet named Elizabeth Alexander apparently a professor at Yale. Which I think is where dubya went too right ? well, Yale, it sucks to be you right now.
She recited, what is in my opinion, the WORST POEM EVER written. In fact it sucked more than a super-massive black hole which at least has an excuse; being real and hence subject to the law of gravitation. The poem was something about farmers and wooden spoons and walking down the street. Like a bad goth poem, with the goth parts replaced by lines that can only be described as feeble attempts at sounding existential and shit.

layne stale-y ?

2009-01-17T09:44:00.004+05:30

I wanted to record a video of myself; singing a song to put up on this blog. Something simple, like Zephyr by RHCP or something along similar lines.

And I really believe that I can keep a tune, and that I sing in scale as well, and I have verified this by recording myself sing and consequently scrutinizing it.

See it is like this. When I sing, it sounds perfect to me in my head. I hear my voice and along with the fact that I sing in scale, I sound like a decent male vocalist. But GOD! when I hear my voice in a recording, I hear such a weak and wavering voice albeit one in scale, but I don't know why this happens.

title

2009-01-16T18:14:00.004+05:30

So here I am reading Alison bechdel's 'fun home' and simultaneously trying to give it a civil unbiased review. The book starts off well, and then degenerates into a mud slinging contest, with the author, who I assume is a very angry feminist lesbian, desperately trying to make me feel ashamed because I have a penis.

I was able to control myself until it came to a panel where she finds a calender of a naked woman and says and I quote- 'I felt as if I had been stripped naked, inexplicable ashamed, like Adam and Eve' So I discarded what I wrote, only to say this to the author:

Fuck You! Let it go, it is 2006 already[the year the book was published] feminism is kinda old news you know.

Here is what I had written:

So I am reading Alison Bechdel's 'Fun Home' which came highly recommended. I usually hate things that are popular being they often disappoint. But I was curious; nearly every person I had seen who spoke about it seemed to think that he or she was a poet while describing the book. One particular woman went something like this: 'my other read it, and then she asked me to read it, and then she asked everyone in the family to read it, it made me laugh and then it made me cry...' and so on.

To be honest; I haven't finished it yet. But I felt like writing about it. So I did.

Anyway, I am halfway through the book. I haven't found anything funny, nor anything sad.

The author herself likes to use heavy, almost opaque prose, in a bid to appear well read- which she is, but there is an arrogance to her writing that makes you not care. Because all the while I am thinking- 'she is well read, but who cares?!'

At one point of time, she uses the word 'prestidigitation' which means...I hope you are ready for this... Sleight of hand. Why ? I do not know.

My rating for the book: I'd say on a scale o

Yay

2009-01-14T16:50:00.004+05:30

Oh the times we had.
My pet porpoise and I.
His official name was Octavio Jules Miranda 'el padre cuckaracha' the magnificent. Esq. although I liked to call him pooky.
We'd walk together to the local mall, play the guitar, solve differential equations, talk about everything under the sun [except sushi] play beach volleyball with a pair of hot nubile chicks... Oh those were the days.

And then... :'(

one fateful day, we disagreed over which of po(o)p or (c)RAP were a worse genre of music, and he... boo hoo... left.

All these years I have been waiting to hear from him, maybe see him again, maybe hear the 'flop flop' of his flappers clanging on the floor, but it was just a hope... until I checked my clustr map today. Who woulda thunk that that little map would help me locate my missing friend.

Screenshot of hit from a cyber cafe somewhere in the pacific, the arrow shows the dot in question.

And lo behold; I see a hit from the middle of, what I assume is, the pacific ocean. Pooky; my long lost buddy reads my blog!

Woo fucking Hoo!

me-mories

2009-01-13T02:40:00.002+05:30

Here is an article I posted on 7\5\06, this was the first time I got more than 9 comments for an article. Thought I should post it here, as I am too busy to put new stuff up these days. I promise to start writing from 16th onwards.

=========================================

The " You know you are me when: " list.

Ahmm....Here goes

You know you me when:

1) You are afraid of only two things: Bugs, Death and women, in no particular order (Hey call me sexist... I gotta be honest).

2)You can't count beyond two.

2) You have a horrific accident, you can't see with your right eye and your car is upside down, with no roof, yet the first thing you do as you crawl out is to check if your babe (by babe I mean guitar) is alright.

2) You can say corny stuff like " I have a magnetic personality... I repel women" without flinching a muscle.

2) You stare at your yellow tinted monitor for six hours straight and everything seems to have lost color and you can finally understand what van Gogh meant when he painted "The Starry Night".

2) Your first sem. computer madam thinks your name is 'Sahana' even though you are 6'1, dark, ugly and barely weigh a fifty kilos.

2) You have read more philosophers, than you have had friends.

2) You start thinking about next Friday on a Saturday.

2) You have to make people read your blog at gun-point

2) You actually get around to writing a " you know you are..." article. That too about yourself.

Rapists? in my world ???

2009-01-08T15:22:00.005+05:30

So Renuka Choudhary, who incidentally was my mom's classmate in degree, and who is the minister for women and child development is seeking the death penalty for rapists.

What a great fucking idea! it is all the rage these days, I hear that the Taliban too have a death penalty for rapists. When you are thinking of following the Taliban, there is no way you can go wrong. Right ? Now, if only we could get them to have the execution done by stoning instead of the boring old death by hanging, we could get ourselves a national pastime, change our country's name to Indiastaan or something similarly catchy, and make a woman's testimony worth half that of a man's.

And Lo. Behold! Everybody wins!

My personal view is that the rape accused must be given death[sic] sentence, because for the girl it is a life sentence. - Renuka Choudhary on Rapists, apparently missing the missteps in logic with her reasoning

Let's see what Advice Bear has to say about all this:

going down in smoke.

2009-01-05T17:10:00.005+05:30

Here are some tips to help you, more effectively, flush your cigarette ends down the toilet.

The secret to the fag's ability to resist being flushed down the loo is the fact that it takes a little while for it to get wet once dropped into the bowl. This means that it remains buoyant for a little while and is not affected by the draining water.

Now, if you wait for 2 minutes, letting it soak up a little water, it will get a little heavier, lose a little buoyancy and sink either like the Titanic or like your spirits when you read this blog.

So there you go kiddies, practical science advice; advice that will probably save your life someday, from your friendly neighborhood bloggist. [who incidentally managed to pass his Fluid Mechanics paper without studying, although that 'without studying' part can be said about almost all my subjects in my um...what was it called again ? let me see, oh right right B.E in Mechanical or something like that.]

My current wallpaper:

Feel free to steal it, like I did :D

Low phreakuency ?

2009-01-04T11:43:00.003+05:30

I played bass in third year of engineering. It was fun, playing the bass has all the advantages of being in a band, without the hassles. Why ? because nobody in the audience cares about the bass, nobody. The bass notes by definition are lower in frequency and are more easily absorbed by the material and walls in the concert hall than the high frequency notes of the guitar and the vocalist. Yeah, I learned that in Mechanical Vibrations, a subject that sounds vaguely vulgar to my ears.

So what does this all mean ? It means that if you play bass on stage, you can make mistakes, stop playing, jump around, and no one will notice. And to the naysayers; yeah, I have tried it.

So who's my favorite bassist ?

It depends on what the criteria is.

For showmanship it has to be Billy Sheehan.
As far as impressive technique is concerned, look no further than John Myung.
BUT, if you are want to get into the bassist with the right 'feel' and an addictive groove to his playing and all that jazz, then it has to be Tony Levin hands down. When Levin plays, I can actually hear those fat bass strings singing.

Why ?

2009-01-01T23:31:00.003+05:30

Will someone tell me...
why modern life has to be so harsh ?
These rules, and these obligations,
and the constant need for change ?
Why can't I be left alone ?
left to my own devices.
When did we turn so soft and mushy ?
Do we get another chance ?
I am not strong enough.
I never was.