diwali is here,
and i can feel cracker roaring and typical smell of gunpowder and phosphate is tickling me.
but am i moved by it ??
do i really want to celebrate diwali this way ??
what is it, that i m missing, and missing big time ??
am i addicted to illu ??

yes, yes, a million times yes.
boy o boy !!!
this life is feels so empty without those countless night-outs..
those 20 days *read as nights* between DP(durga pooja) and diwali are definately most adventurous and fun filled extravaganza of spring semesters.
and now when i m more thn 1500 kms frm kharagpur,
it just feels that i m missing my part of fun.

i shall rather give a brief intro of illu for all non-kgpians, before proceeding any furthur,
"illu"..is a abbreviated form of illumination
which in fact is an inter-hostel competition organised at kgp, on diwali night.
here every hostel is suppose to make HUGE structures of diyas..
and by huge..i mean herculean sturctures in which more than 30k diyas are used.
and to give shape to this mammoth task..a work force of more thn 5000 man hrs (i m being amazingly modest with this assumption) is required.
no simple task to manage, mind you !!

and as d-day approaches, task seems more so un-finishable,
but then thts wat iitians are famous for,
they wait for water to rise not only upto nose, but way past thr hairs,
and then one gentle stroke to pull them out of world's mightiest tide, leave these ripples apart.

last few days..work is carried out on continous basis,
one can sniff oil burning at one of the corners,
a bunch of think-heads, determining and analyzing last moment contingencies,
another bunch of "shers", with all thr might, pulling metal wires, determined to thin a 14 guage wire to 16 guage.
few more, having fingers wrapped in leukoplast, holding loops and bent over to chatais,
yet another bunch, arranging mess tables, and all sort of "hammali" works.

all this rolling infront of my eyes as a slideshow,
but alas !! english fails miserably, when words try to describe emotions.
and this year,
i will be sitting in my filthy flat,
lighting up few crackers,
and feeling nostalgic, ad nausea.

p.s. sorry Mr. Admas, for voilating copyright rules,
but i feel like singing
"those were the best days of my life"

Labels: I, Memoirs

Damn you Indra !!
i beg of you..O merciless sadist ruler of heaven, do pardon us all from your wrath
and let the ppl of earth, esp bangalore enjoy few non-dripping days..let alone sunny days.

man it is raining like hell..
two days bak, while landing bak at my home, i was drentched from head to toe..

to add more to my tragic wet life..
i can find water cloggeed in front to my home..
no, it wasnt a flood, but a simple muddy water patch streched all over the road,
my shoes were crying "trahimam, trahimam", but ovrhearing them..
i let myself on mercy of bangalore water disposal department, whose i existance i doubt,
and i could feel water seeping through them..duh !! grrr

and when i enter my room..
i was shivering and can feel my teeth cluttering against each other..
and then i heard my frnds pointing thr fingers at me..and rofling..
"aa gaya sale" said they "aur ghoomo baarish mein".

actions speak more than words, so belived i,
so i removed my shoes and stinky socks :D,
for which everyone was feeling, it better to poke nose into a pig's armpits rather thn my shoes.
* and i mean it * ;)
immediatly i can find my lathargic flaties running for thr life..

in tht moment...i recalled a poem. i use to sing when i was kid,
"rain rain, go away, come again another day"
and some s.o.b said "amen!!!" ..right at the moment !!
and voila !!, all the gods who were hostile to me, got another reason to piss me off,
the wish was granted, and tht too on an urgent basis, so tht night it rained like never before,
gutters were oveflowing, which is not new to bangaloreans.
but getting sevage water into ur bedroom, was new to them as well.

its not like i dont like rains..
but things are different when you r dressed in a black formal trouser and grey shirt !!
and last thing i want is, my leather shoes exposed to muddy waters and helplessly watch them getting fucked.


and today..i was eating a hot bhutta sitting besides door,
i could feel a nostalgic wave running through my spine,
i wish i was still at kgp..
that footballl grnd,
those bunch of guys running for a punctured futball, we used a rugby.
those wounded-but-no give up legs
those muddy patches on my shorts and shirt,
reddy cheering from first floor,
anurag whistling as usual,
giri da growling on top of his lungs,
i remember everyone of them,
then i morphed the poem
"rain rain go away, come again some other day",
"give me bak my college days,i want that football play"
then i nearly whispered "amen !!!"

Labels: I, Memoirs

a black day,20th january,
that i confidentaly declare,
a amnestic lunatic gets asylum,
with all glitter and flair.

i wish, the same day,
they would have bid you a farewell
Damn u Mr Bush ..
just go to hell !!!

a god damn liar,
whenever you hits your toungue,
how many exams, frankly,
tell me, you have flunk,

the only stupid harvard grad,
deserves a bedlam cell.
Damn u Mr Bush ..
just go to hell !!!

you hold indifference to,
the meagers dying around,
try throw some benjamins,
before condition gets out of bound.

for a change, look out,
of cozy white house, where opulence dwell
Damn u Mr Bush ..
just go to hell !!!

like a dictator unleashed,
you boss on the world,
but laden, saddam and likes,
scares shit out of you, Mr. chiken heart.

try to win by bread,
not by bullet's shell,
Damn u Mr Bush ..
just go to hell !!!

on attacks of laskar, zaish,
you chose to act dumb,
and events of 9/11,
left you partially numb,

kids saw it live,giggling,
Self proclaimed "most powerful man on earth", turning pale,
Damn u Mr Bush ..
just go to hell !!!

i doubt if all these,
for you, ever rings a bell
Damn u Mr Bush ..
just go to hell !!!

Labels: Bitching, Laff Riot, Poetry

she walked by road, with heart full of fears,
her mind was numb, eyes full of tears.
for all the things to him,she ever said,
in hope, that these memory will never fade.

her lonely shadow on beach, she stare,
was once used to be a dancing pair,
the rocks, they sat, for hours, for days
are now getting tanned, by scarlet sun rays.

the wrinkles on the bedspread of night before,
and the shower, which never stopped to pour,
besides her cot lies, his white shirt,
still reminds her of that innocert flirt.

the half ate sandwich, is still on table,
kept besides, an uncorked black label.
the lilies he brought,in a white china vase,
are pale in memories of he who was.

now he is bound, as photo in her diary,
but a ghost that frequenly haunt her memory.
more she tries to forget the dead,
she knows,its a long and lonely road ahead.

she wish, his presence still lingers there,
a dream against His will, she had dare,
a shot and the floor turned red,
here goes lass, to meet her lad.

Labels: Death, Poetry

i copied from net..but still i should get points for creative googling..wat say ;)
mind u, its a bit too explicit..but i luv analyzing shit :D
here we go :)..

Plain Jane: One-second duration, nice resonant reverberation, and pungent odor cloud with a nearly instantaneous 5-foot radius. Your standard, everyday, friendly fart.

Beefy One: Sounds loud and butch, e.g., 'BRAAAMMPPP!' Smells like a cross between a decaying meadow muffin on a hot day and a fresh dog-turd.

Eggy: Smells very much like rotten eggs (or hydrogen sulfide). A powerful odor which tends to put people off lunch. Often rips out in the fashion of a Bunbuster.

Bunbuster: 'BRAAAP!' Sounds something like a Beefy One, except much more sudden and much more powerful. May smell either eggy or beefy. Leaves your arse-hole smarting. You really feel these babies.

Ripper: Sends seismic ripples to the next town. Rips the seams in the crotch of your pants. This fart genuinely hurts, and you can still feel it 20 minutes later. Anyone sitting nearby may experience hearing loss.


Diesel: Sputters to a start, but then keeps putt-putting along spewing out an endless cloud of dirty, noxious fumes.
Surprise! You didn't even know that it was there, but suddenly . . . 'BRRMP!'

Gunshot: Sounds just like a gunshot. Unbelievably loud indoors. Hard to believe that this emanates from between your buttocks. Bullet explodes into billions of virulent odor molecules. Gunshot farts are relatively rare but, like guns, very dangerous.


Squeaky: Puny and unsatisfying. Sounds a bit like a muffled 'Wheeeek,' but smells foul.

Worrier: The kind that seems to be a fart right up to the point at which you release it. At this stage, matters become less sure, as it feels too solid for comfort. You go to the bathroom and check your underpants at the first possible opportunity.

Poopie Prelude: It feels like it's going to be a large beefy one, but out comes a tiny little squeaker fart plus the head of something massive. You tense your buttocks fast, lest you give birth to the brown equivalent of a zeppelin.

Present: The type of fart that seems harmless, but then brings a small poop as a housewarming gift. You shuffle off to the toilet and give thanks you weren't in a business meeting or job interview when it happened. If you were, you're screwed.

Burble: Bubbly! Sometimes messy too.

SBD (Silent But Deadly): Totally inaudible but somehow causes all the occupants in a room to collapse. Smell is undefined because nasal investigators haven't had time to analyze the odor before passing out. (This one is also known as SBL: Silent But Lethal and Toxic Assassin.)


GNL (Gambled 'n' Lost): You take a gamble that it's going to be a fart and stay where you are, but tragically come to realize that this is much more than a fart...
Next big gamble: do you put your underpants in the laundry basket and hope your wife won't notice, do you wash 'em out yourself, or do you throw 'em away?

Hydrated: The original wet fart, which leaves a mark on your pants and gives you a cold wet sticky sensation when you walk. Try to avoid this one if you're wearing white trousers.

Not Now Please!: You feel the presence of a mighty fart but are unable to release it due to your situation (first date, new customer, important business meeting, etc.). You clench your buttocks together so hard you nearly have a stroke, and wait for the pressure to subside. Success depends upon a number of factors, but in the end you're probably going to have to face the music (literally). Or you can try the stealth approach (see below).

Who, Me?: You let it out as silently as possible and nobody hears it. You discreetly take deep sniffs and smell nothing. You think you got away with it. But 30 seconds later, as if released from a stasis field, everybody starts to cough and splutter. You point to the person next to you and try to look innocent.

Waker-Upper: The first fart of the morning. All that broccoli, beans, and beer you had for dinner last night has decayed and fermented into about 1,000 ml of noxious gas just dying to escape from your rectum. Whether you let go under the covers when you first wake up or hold it until you're taking your early morning pee, releasing that first fart of the day feels oh, so good and sets the tone for the whole day.

Dutch Oven: A fart you make in bed -- any kind at all -- followed up by holding your partner's head under the bedclothes so that he/she can get the full effect of it. Good for moving a stalled divorce process along. Very bad early in your marriage.

thts all folks..and yeah next time, dont forget to analyze ur fart ;)
happy farting :D

p.s.run a google.."types of shit"

Labels: Laff Riot

I am sitting at my desk, trying to work,
and poof!! jumped a pop-up on my screen,
"You've a new mail in your inbox".
and a stylish icon appears in my task bar,
smiling at it, i double clicked,just to find another forward,
and what frustates me even more is a fact that, i have recived same forward from 6 different persons since morning and twice from same person. !! duh !

Jeez!!, i said, and without even bothering to check, who send it..redirected the mail to trash and without wasting a single moment emptied it as well.

This was me, few months back.

But any software job has a rich legacy of forwarding mails, and i felt that i am no exception. Its like, it has become part of my work.
On any given day no. of forwards should be atleast 4 times no. of offical work, and thnx to efforts taken by many of my generous frnds,i am never been able to voilate this rule, till date.

OK fine !!, so what are you leading to Lord Anshul, hit the point.
Yeah Sure.

What irritates is me, are all those forwards which ask you to be forwarded to 10 more ppl, to get your wish fulfilled, or else face wrath of Maa Durga, or Sai baba or even, some chinese master !!:O*even i was shocked at this one*. And also, the one with sissy quotes, telling all vague thoughts and one-liners, of how to make life better, that i had been studying all through my schooling, as moral science when i was kid and then life values in SSC*you all must have been guessed, that i was a student of a theology obssessed nuns driven convent*. I wud rather listen more to my mom-dad, then such stupid mails.

All they do is eat up space of your inbox. But thnx to 1 GB inbox spree provoked by google, its not a matter of concern anymore. But deleting all of them manually is still a big headache, for they cant be reported to spam *my frnds gonna kill me, even for bringing this thought in mind*.

But, many a times, thr are funny one too. And those are the ones that sprinkle holy water on all the sinners. They give me a reason to smile, when i m sitting in my cubicle, bored to death of my monotonus corporate life. Jesus !!, some of them are really funny, and refreshingly creative.But, wait, all filth heads still know how to rape my jovial mood. And withing next half an hour, i'll recieve same mail from 10 diff ppl.And here goes the fun !

I personally preferred writing mails, than forwards. But then, one of my frnds explained me significance of forwards to me few days back.*read few months back*. I was heavily impressed by his thinking, but at the same time, i doubt how many of us think on that line, before forwarding. He said,time is a luxury, which is not available to most of us, atleast in surplus.And even in those moment, if any of our frnd remembers us, and dont have much time to write few line saying hello, he/she forward a mail to us, just to let us know, i miss you. And this is, anyday better than writing a quickie saying "hi,how r u ?, i m fine, take care.", but this should be backed by some hand-written mails as well, once in a while,before it bocome all-forward-zero-mail tantrum.I coudnt have agreed more.

And now, here i m sitting and forwards tens of mail on a daily basis to most of you, just to say, i miss you. Now wat you've got to do is, ^c ^v my blog, forward it to as many people as you cans,and see how many of them forward this back to you. ;)

Labels: I, Wandering Thoughts

i m sitting on my desk.
listening eminem singing 8 miles road..
working on oracle reports builder..
and..to shock u..i work in TCS. ;)
and for those who dont know..reason for shock.
we are not allowed to upload music on our HDDs in TCS..
my system admin define this by some vague term "Data security".

now coming to the point..how come eminem rapping to entertain me ?
courtsey my new Nokia N-Gage, with 512 mb memory card.
and i know..wat is diff between kb and mb..and i m certainly not joking :))

damn !! dis is da stuff..da gadget..
and as nokia term it..as game deck..rather thn cell fone.
hardly ever used it as cell..more a jukebox..game pod
ppl use to exploit the very reason a thing is invented to meet thr own demands.

its not something rare in bangalore..but certainly a "dubba" to cherish.
i can bet my life, one will never hv enuf of it.
and now if u think..m i planning to get an extra discount from nokia to publicize the stuff
rats !!..i belive.."got it, fluant it". ;)

Labels: I, Wandering Thoughts

At time..i have encountered this question .. why yet another morrison ?
i guess..this is for all of them..and for all..who thought..but never dared to ask. ;)

Jim Morrison said

~There are things known and there are things unknown, and in between are the doors.
~Some of the worst mistakes of my life have been haircuts.
~Music inflames temperament.
~Love cannot save you from your own fate.
~Hatred is a very underestimated emotion.
~Drugs are a bet with your mind.
~I'm interested in anything about revolt, disorder, chaos, especially activity that appears to have no meaning. It seems to me to be the road toward freedom.
~The time to hesitate is through.
~Violence isn't always evil. What's evil is the infatuationwith violence.
~Lets plan a murder or start a religion.

Unfortunately he was found dead in his bath tub on 3rd june 1971
and it took God,nearly 12 more years to create "yet another Morrison".

Labels: I

rajnikant, mithun are not alone anymore....
if rambo can fight 100 ppl,all alone..
our transporter (2)too can...
this movie is just an picturization of thoughts..wat mithun da..
ever forgot/was unable to bring out in his movies..
all laws of motion and gravity are being drained to gutter.
and on tht crap graphics of aeroplane..
i m sure..many of u can do better stuff on photoshop to give me a better air-plane.
and yeah how can i forget..how many times..this guy..
tried to copy agent smith and neo as well
(when he jumps from the building..and fight wid the rod).

but yeah..movie has some..no just one good stuff..
its background music..it was fast and hard hitting..
and nicely edited according to action sequences..
which to some extent may impress many ppl out thr.

but you cant just watch a movie..wid zero story,
poor direction and practically no scope of acting.
but..if u like mithun da's extra-terrestrial stunts,
like to see ur protagonist moving much faster thn bullets of fully-automatic gun,
if u fancy two man fighting to shake an air plane,
and are fan of unrealistic fight sequnce..
in which bullets virtually mutilate everything around but hero.
then..my frnd..this is "the" movie for u..
dont waste time anymore..and rush to ur nearest cinema.

Labels: Bitching, Lord's review, Sentiments