A Muse Point

'And as we wind on down the road '-Led Zeppelin

noreply@blogger.com (Saucerer) — Sat, 30 May 2009 16:39:00 +0000

After about a couple of couple of couple of months i am writing here to lay to rest the myths that were circulating of my blog's death (so what if i started them,they are myths all the same). Its been a (any adjective you can think of comes here) few months, what with me going to interviews, followed by heartbreak of not getting through them, followed by joy of getting through some of them, followed by workaholic times with project report submission(word of advice, don't start work on the project two days before submission, give yourself at least four days. Anything beyond 5 days and you are wasting precious time) and then extreme sorrow of leaving behind a place that has come to be your home for 4 years. And that is what i am gonna talk bout. My 4 years in college.

I can still remember my first day, when my dad had told me how the next 4 years would get over before i knew it, and boy was he right. Now that i have come to the end of it all, i realize how 4 years have gone by. How what was to me a barren piece of land in the middle of nowhere on highway number who-gives-a-damn leading to who-the-hell-cares land had turned into a beautiful place i called my home. Not because of praise-be-the-lord miracle nor because of some crazy election drive(even politicians don't give a crap, well actually that's kinda expected) but because of the people who shared the place with me, people with whom i came to identify a new phase of my life, people with whom i know i shall share a special bond for the rest of my life(people who eat crap together share such a bond). The best part of studying in a national institute is the variety of people u get to meet. I can safely say that i have spent the last 4 years with some of the brightest minds in the country(and that's not counting the guys on dope).

Today the impression i have of my college is drastically different from what it was four years ago, and very obviously that has nothing got to do with academics. But in every other way these four years are largely responsible for making me the man i am today. For instance i switched from Indian Standard Time to Dutch National Time(inspired by Eurotrip, true story), i stopped studying a week before the exams, moving on from 4 days, to the weekend before to the morning of the exam during my final sem. I went from half a cup of weak coffee a day to three cups of black coffee after i brushed my teeth and as many cups in the day as i could. I went from first-to-arrive first-bencher to rarely-arriving-last-bencher. I went from the being the teacher's pet to the teacher's worst nightmare ever in which the pet bites off her head and then runs away with it. Anyone reading this must think college ruined my life, but those thinking so do not know that the biggest lesson and probably the most important lesson that this place has taught me is to live on my own, to make my own decisions and to realize that those decisions can actually bite me in the ass, and that pain does not manifest immediately when my mind is 'bright'. And all this only after my second year into college (my first year got lost in JEE books).

To the friends i made over there i owe some of the best memories of my life. My wing-mates, my department mates, my juniors, my seniors and my teachers(trust me, messing with a teacher's head can be a wonderful memory). Those late night table tennis matches during exams, the gossip sessions in Diamond 14 which got relocated to Emerald 36, the drunken fiestas (you know who i am talking about), the walking into class half an hour late without even looking at the teacher, sitting in the last bench messaging or solving crosswords or solving T.I.M.E papers or throwing chalk bits or sleeping or all of the above, those quizzes and those near misses(or as george carlin says near hits) and so so much more, events that littered the last four years of my life, events that i can never forget, events that put a smile on my face,events that brought a tear to the eye, overall events that reminded me that every single moment i spent over there will become memories for a lifetime.

Now as i leave this place, the empty corridors remind me that it will never be the same, and as we move on and we meet new people along the way, the mind shall always come back to those 4 years ,in that barren land on highway number who-gives-a-damn going to who-gives-a-crap land, that i owe my life to. Thank you for everything.

Dead or Alive?

noreply@blogger.com (Saucerer) — Sat, 04 Apr 2009 14:30:00 +0000

To dispel myths circulating in imaginary circles about my death i am here today posting about, well not being dead.
I have not posted anything for a very long time now, since my CAT results came out to be particular. The reason being that i was preparing for the Interviews. My next post shall be about the interview process once their outcome come out on April 10th.
Today's post is about a seemingly impossible achievement that only i could have accomplished.

As mentioned earlier the outcome of the IIM interviews are soon to be expected, and going by the unpredictable nature of the admission process i make it a point to check for the results every day just in case those weirdos decide to declare earlier. Today was no different, i was going around hopping from IIM website to website searching for tell tale signs of results declaration when i landed upon the IIMC website which had a link to results. I clicked on it without giving it a second thought and as it turned out without a second read as well.

The page dutifully opened and the form appeared where i had to fill in my TR no and my DOB(as if my TR no was not unique enough they want to know the DOB to confirm, considering there are about 3 million ppl born on the same day as me it is clear that the IIMs have a decided lack of common sense in designing websites). I entered the required data so fast that after i typed the digits, the computer was still processing the previous typed entry. The dreaded result page appeared and it read "Your name does not appear either in the list of waitlisted candidates nor in the list of selected candidates to the PGP programmes in IIMC".

It took sometime to register. It did and i was not markedly devastated, just a little disappointed. But i thought i'd spread the good news to my other friends who took the exam. And the news spread like wildfire.

The shocker was that none of my friends had got a seat, the same line appeared on each of their pages. Unfortunate.

The revelation was made by my dear Kashmiri friend(when he is not planning to take over India he is quite the sensible guy) when he read a line in big bold letters on the result page that mentioned that the Interviews for the OBC candidates would be on the 15th of May, the previous year.Considering that the result page was last year's and that none of us had taken the exam last year i dont think it was that big a shock.

I April Fooled Myself. Considering i am so clever it took about three days after April Fool's day to acheive the task but i did it nevertheless.

I am still reeling from the hate messages from my friends. :)

The burden of humility

noreply@blogger.com (Saucerer) — Sun, 11 Jan 2009 16:44:00 +0000

I am Back, seems to be the biggest craze on social networking sites. Now that the holidays season is over, people are returning to their regular lives. Some are coming back from their homes, some from their natives, others from tours. I personally am coming back from the loo. Not that I spent my entire vacation there but in this context it counts since before writing this I was taking the trash out.
Now that we have established where I am coming from let us move on to the topic of today, humility. How does a person stay humble while extolling his achievements? When you are with your peers in front of whom you have to say what u have achieved, how do you do it without getting labeled as a snob? Let us consider Mr. Obama and some situations he might face.
‘Hi, I am the President of the U.S.A, the most powerful country in the world’. Snob!
‘Hi, I am the people’s choice to lead the greatest country in the world’. Snob!
‘Hi, I am the President of the U. S.A’. Snob!
‘Hi, I am the President’. Snob!
‘Hi, I dunno why the people chose me but I am stuck with this job now’. Idiot!!
In such situations I have often found that not being forthright helps. Don’t start telling about yourself, like for instance
‘Hi, I am Obama. Who are you?’
This works most of the time but say Obama came across the Chinese premier,
‘Hi, I am Obama. Who are you?’
‘Yes, that’s right. Hu I are’ (He is a Chinese commie, how good can his English be?)
Then what does one do, or how does one say what he has to? The objective must be to coax the person in front to ask you the question. In that case you are merely answering his question, so you wouldn’t have done it otherwise and hence no reason to be called a snob. So we can start off by asking him what we want him to ask us and hope for reciprocation.
‘Hi, I am Obama and you are?’
This is a good ploy, until you apply this to Fidel Castro.
‘Hi, I am Obama and you are?’
‘Yes, I am Cuba’ (80 years of smoking Cubans, god knows what he hears)
So now we have exhausted almost all our options, we come to the final one. Don’t speak until spoken unto.
‘ ‘.
‘Oh you poor thing, are you mute?’
‘No, ma’am. I am Obama’.
‘Never heard of the disease son, but I am sure you will get well soon’
That’s all options exhausted. So now that we have confirmed there is no way to say anything without being misinterpreted I am gonna say it anyway.
I got the results of my CAT exam today. Got 4 calls from Ahmedabad, Bangalore, Calcutta and from Kozhikode(I got B,A,C,K). (Surprised look) Snob!?

Greek for Dummies

noreply@blogger.com (Saucerer) — Tue, 06 Jan 2009 07:56:00 +0000

Greek for Dummies
‘Sau’Crates: A binging champion who found enlightenment after his 100th crate of wine when he saw Lord Bud the Wiser, hence named himself Saucrates or ‘100’ crates. Spawned a host of other philosophers who followed in his footsteps, which was easy since there was a wine bottle next to each one of them
Plate-O: Student of Saucrates, invented the circular plate. He was never able to reach the heights of his teacher but however left his impression for centuries to come when he sat on the wet parthenon concrete.
A wristbottle: The youngest student of Plate-O, he would carry a water bottle on his wrist when he attended classes. Even though in later life he stopped the practice, the name stuck. He was the first to propose that animals have social classes, an early symptom of a fractured psyche.
‘Zee’Us: The drunk exhibitionist of Greece, he was very popular with the people of his age. He would imagine himself in various forms during his drunken revelries. Contributor to more than 75% of the current Greek gene pool.
Pussydon: He was editor of ‘Sheesh’, the teen magazine. Often referring to himself as Lord of the Sheesh, he commanded a lot of respect in social circles and was the reference for latest trends in fashion. Pussydon was brother of ‘Zee’Us and Hanes.
Hanes: He was the Lord of the Underpants. Responsible for revolutionary designs in Underpants he started the X and Y front designs.
Homo’er: The hesitating gay poet who wrote and rode in epic proportions. Introduced mankind to bestialism in his writings when a bunch of men sprung out of a horse.
Ikearush: The swedish exchange student in Alexandria, he was son of DearDallas the american contractor. He died trying to ascertain the melting height of wax.
Helen: The sluttiest broad in the Medittereanean, was the calender model for the port of Athens where a thousand ships were launched in all.
A’chillies: The hottest young gigolo of Greece, he had a disturbed childhood when his mother dipped him in sticks. The scars he suffered left him red for the rest of his like hence the nickname.
Minuter: The fearsome flea who lived in the centre of the Lavarinth, the public toilet till he was flushed out of his lair by Faeceus. The Minuter was responsible for a large number of deaths in Greece when he sent out his minions to infest people.
AtHen: She was the patron saint of the poultry farmers,believed to be the daughter of ‘Zee’Us she had a temple constructed for her. This temple is believed to be the progenitor for modern day dairy farms.
Afro-diet: Noted black dietician and prominent human rights activist. She launched a massive campaign for black rights when she was thrown from Uranus into the sea by Cronies.
Herr Coolies: The German hippy godfather. He is said to have smoked twelve different varieties of Weed, a feat now known as The Twelve Weeds of Herr Coolies. A direct descendant of ‘Zee’Us, Herr Coolies is said to have been the inventor of the morphine.
Feel free to add your own characters in the comments.
Cheers

Black or Green

noreply@blogger.com (Saucerer) — Mon, 05 Jan 2009 10:16:00 +0000

A sabbatical can add perspective in one’s life. I was not on one. I was absent for about a week and a half, hardly enough time to be called a sabbatical. But I guess time is not of the essence when what one is looking for is an open- minded view, a perspective.
So what could I have mused on during my stay with my cousins? Something on familial ties maybe? Yes, that too but what I am writing about here today is not the stay, I am talking about the trip. My journey to my natives had me take a train journey across three states along the eastern coast of India. Each state unique in its own way, but I was not looking for differences. I was looking for similarities, rather I saw similarities and that’s what I speak on today.
Every train journey I have taken has inevitably passed through the countryside, the fields and the villages. This one was no different. In all three states, there were fields, lush green. They may have been growing different crops but to me they were just fields, green and the source of my grub. These images were not permanent. Interspersed with the green colour was the white, and grey and black of the cities. Urban settlements on what was probably once a farmland. What intrigued me most, in fact what intrigues me still is the question the balance of green and black pose. How much of each is required for a progressing, stable society? This sounds contradictory, so let me rephrase it, how much is needed for a steadily progressing society? Where should the boundary be, or where should it have been between green and black?
So I did some thinking and came up with a list of pros and cons of each. I am not judging, nor am I imposing my opinion on anyone which is why I would request all those reading to leave there thoughts in the comments.
Let’s start with green. If there were a lot of green it would imply that the country had a predominantly agriculture dependent economy. Exports would be agri products and variants of it. People would be living in or near the farms and urbanization would be minimal. How would that affect the country? Agri based economy is stable. Because the bottom line is no matter what the world does, it cannot stop eating. So that ensures a steady export business. Yes the recession will affect the prices of the fertilizers, the necessary material will be dearer, and food will become costlier. But the good thing about agriculture is that productivity is not as dependent on the economics of the world as is industry. The farmers will produce the same, they may however pay more. But we have already established that income to the country will be more or less stable. So the government can bear the load of the farmer on its shoulder. So all is rosy. But is it? The downside of this is that progress is at a snail’s pace. The economy is stable but not growing. So while the world keeps going ahead during the good times, this country stays behind. It is like a seasonal tree that bears fruit only in winter. The rest of the year it is just a tree doing nothing. But when winter does come, everyone turn to it for nourishment. So the question here is how much can we afford to be like this tree? Can we afford to be depended upon only during times of recession?
If not then we must start urbanizing, and industrializing the nation. Progress is ensured in this economy. We keep pace with developments in the world and grow as everyone else does. We generate the technology that runs fuels development. This ensure quick bucks in quicker time. This alternative sounds wonderful so why not industrialize and depend on the agri countries to feed us ? This has a downside too. Industry is very much dependent on the world economy, a flutter in any countries economy and it affects us. This is not stable option although quick progress is guaranteed. When the world goes into recession we dive in too head and toe. Prices spiral out of control, and we pay through our noses for essential commodities. Fuel, and everything that runs on it becomes costlier affecting nearly everything in sight. So can we afford to live with the uncertainties?
How can we strike a balance? There are a million different opinions and thousand different solutions not all viable though. What I propose is a simple plan. Both have to be implemented which is obvious but they need not be independent of each other. They can be boosting to each other. Industry can be developed around agriculture and agriculture can fuel industry. Research can be done to implement bio-fuels more efficiently. Genetically modified plants can be used to fuel great industries and industry can be used to increase productivity and efficiency in agriculture. So when one falls the other can be used to pull it up and get it running. The plan sounds simple enough but I know there are lots of things involved and lots of factors that I cannot fathom, but I know that man’s reach is beyond his imagination.
Here is hoping for a better tomorrow! Cheers!!

Face in the Mirror

noreply@blogger.com (Saucerer) — Fri, 19 Dec 2008 12:26:00 +0000

Speaking in public is not everyone’s cup of tea. When there are huge spotlights shining on you and the awareness of a large number of people looking at you for some reason or the other it is not easy to speak. The attention freezes most people who would are otherwise normal people in small social groups. Hence public speaking is often compared to art, not everyone can do it and those who can inspire awe amongst the others who are not capable. Ramon Milosevic could not speak in public unlike Mikhael Icanicevic.
Born in a farmer’s house Ramon never had the need to speak in public. Growing up he joined the family trade, growing potatoes for the vodka factory nearby. Twice every year he would deliver his produce and collect the price for it. No change. He was happy with what and did not expect much else from his life. Being a bachelor, Ramon spent most of his time alone and once every week with his friends at the pub uptown.
Mikhael was literally born into royalty. His father was owner of the country’s largest oil company, a family business since the day the Tsar had made his grandfather a Baron and put under his control the oil rich land surrounding Buxoro. Mikhael, an average student at best was widely expected to take over the reins of the company from his father. So it came as a surprise when Mikhael at the age of 27 decided to enter politics.
The rise to the top post in a country like Uzbekistan a few things are pre requisite, money, flair for oratory and more money. That made Mikhael the perfect candidate. He won his first seat to the senate at the age for 27 years 6 months and 3 days, making him the youngest senator in the house, annihilating his opponent by winning 76% of the popular vote. After creating a strong impression in his first term as a senator, Mikhael won a second term. This time it was unanimous as his opponent backed out at the last moment to save himself the shame. After another stellar term the next step was obvious, Mikhael announced his candidature for presidency at the age of 35.
Every president in the world has a look alike, someone who is used in places of extreme hostility. Usually the look-alike is chosen from some obscure country side with no previous criminal record and usually no known family to mourn losses. Ramon was the look-alike for Mikhael. Security agents picked him up when he was returning from the factory on a foggy winter evening. A missing person case was filed but nothing was done about it. To the world Ramon had vanished, atleast to the people who had any interest in his affairs.
All the necessary conditioning were done. He was taught in the basic mannerism of the to be President, his walk, the smallest knick knacks were covered. Oratory was also covered, you never know when that may come in need. But no matter how much practice a man may do in private, he can never simulate the actual tension of an actual speech in front of a huge audience. So all those who trained Ramon were satisfied and gave the green signal. Mikhael won the election defeating the outgoing president by the largest margin in the history of the country.
That night as a huge audience waited for their new president to address them, one man waited in the dark with a Remington 700, a rifle made for killing single targets at a range of upto 2000 meters. As the new president climbed the stairs that led into the middle of the stadium, the gunman fixed his sight on the head.
Public speaking is a tough and often impossible task to those who are not cut out for it. As the crowd of 20,000 people cheered the man that walked through the centre of the stage, Ramon Milosevic saw for the first time in his life, a crowd of this size. This was not like anything that he had seen earlier in his life. Adrenalin pumping in his blood stream made his heart beat touch 135 when he walked up to the stage. He waited till the last clap in the crowd had quitened and as he as he opened his mouth to talk for the first time in public, he felt a stabbing pain in his chest.
After 36 years of helping him grow potatoes, Ramon Milosevic’s heart had given way. The gunman had wasted a bullet a split second before the president had slumped. The bullet hit the body guard behind the President, a man named Mikhael Ivanicevic, the man the people had chosen as the next president of the country.

Hell Yeah....

noreply@blogger.com (Saucerer) — Mon, 15 Dec 2008 13:05:00 +0000

Images of mad cheering and a jubilant crowd stream across the TV screen as a 5ft 5in demigod jumps with joy at having steered his country to a historic victory. And as I watch all these sitting in the comfort of my couch I cannot help but wonder how a game stretching over 5 days in the grueling heat of the tropics can affect the lives of a hundred million people and how one man can orchestrate the serenade of 30,000 people in a stadium.
The 4th highest run chase in history, the highest in the sub-continent, one of the most memorable for this generation, and you cannot help but wonder how what was once a one man show has turned into a spectacular team effort. There is not one single person responsible for this victory yet without each one’s contribution this would have been impossible and we would have resigned to the old ‘Indians choke under pressure’ adage. There are pundits all over the world who would analyze this match to threadbare, I do not want to be one of them. I am not going to be one to point out technicalities and all that but I will talk of what I felt as a mere spectator witnessing India playing its favorite sport and in what style.
For the past 5 days, this match has swung from end to end like a pendulum on cocaine. Here is a list of players I think were essential towards the outcome of the match.
India: Batting order wise
Viru: Single handedly put India in the front seat. He played like a nymphomaniac in a men’s restroom. Every ball that came his way was wacked. The only reason India went from defensive to outright attacking was due to his doing. The fastest 50 by an Indian against England could not come at a better time
Gauti: No one seems to notice this small guy and he, between that ruthless onslaught that we have come to know as Viru, goes about collecting runs. His support is invaluable to the partnership in frustrating the bowlers, and the runs he scores don’t hurt either.
Rahul: The Wall is crumbling at the edges. What was once an impasse for bowlers has started to spring leaks. It is really important that this wall be temporarily be shut down for repair works else it’ll break and we would lose a great support structure for the team let alone a great batsman.
Sachin: The God, been there since I can remember. Comes up with the goods when most required, stays that eternal ray of hope in the India supporters heart. 20 years on he is a veteran, seen it done that. Must be saying to his juniors, ‘ I love the smell of leather in the morning. Smells like victory’. Number 41, and it keeps getting sweeter.
VVS: Classy Hyderabadi, got wrists made of roller balls. Turns and cuts like Houdini in a strait jacket, always manages to get out of the spot. Not a very large contribution today but provided the much needed support to prevent the collapse later.
Yuvi: You just cannot keep a sardar down. If you tie him down in words, you will be fetching your balls from all over the park. Sardar that he is, it is very easy to mess with his head much like the other sardar in the team, Bhajji, but today he showed he could control his feelings and came up with a very elegant show. Also it didn’t hurt that the opponents were England, his favorites.
MSD: The name so similar to LSD, the effect even better. Ever since he has taken over the reigns, India have been on a high, and a good one at that. For starters he has won all his test matches as captain and came up with also scored a 50 in the last 5 innings as captain. India’s good luck charm, came up with a skipper’s knock in the first innings to prevent the shame.
Bhajji: The colourful sardar, India’s senior spinner now, came up with a brilliant first innings show with the bat and the ball. Taking three wickets and scoring 40 runs but more crucially supporting MSD and steading the rocking ship. In the second innings he was not very useful though but towards the end helped wrap up the tail
Zaheer: India’s top striker and most trusted new ball bowler. Bowled exceedingly well in both innings, brought India back into the game in 1st day with 2 wonderful wickets. Very economical and very accurate, he was the best bowler in the entire match save for maybe Flintoff.
Ishant and Mishra: The delhi boys bowled really clean, and consistent. Gave a lot of trouble to the Lower and Middle order batsman.
For the English:
Andrew Strauss: Masterful. Outstanding shows on his return, century in both innings and utterly dominant. Did not let anything get to him and had England won, they would have owed a lot to this guy
KP: Ass in whites, disappointed with the bat, and even more with the captaincy. Not that I am complaining but he never gave a challenge.
Collingwood: Frustrating second innings knock. He along with Strauss were valium mixed with vodka, sure to put a man out. But good show though.
Flintoff: The only bowler worth mentioning. Bowled his heart out in both innings. Did everything he could to unnerve Yuvi, succeeding in one innings. A clap for the effort, clap,clap..
That’s about it. The architects of a great match and as I draw to an end I cannot help but recall a nursery rhyme, in my words:
“ Pussycat Pussycat where have you been?
I have been to Chennai to hump Kevin
Pussycat Pussycat what’d you do there?
I knocked his balls and left him short of air”
Cheers 

Just a thought...

noreply@blogger.com (Saucerer) — Sun, 14 Dec 2008 12:51:00 +0000

To counter the supreme boredom that has gripped me in the last few days, I have been reading old newspapers scavenging for any good articles that I may have missed. In this process I came across a very small but interesting article in one of my local newspapers. Of course I am not sure if they are the original minds behind it but that is where I saw it.
The article is a small collection of facts in lieu of the Mumbai terror attacks.
1) The NSG commandos were transported by Metropolitan buses, after the attacks of course. Our Indian cricket team on the other hand always travel in Volvo buses
2) Our Navy has a total of 25 Heavy artillery ships. Korea on the other hand which is about the size of Chattisgarh has in excess of 250 of them
3) The families of the dead were given compensations of Rs. 5 lakhs, whereas Abhinav Bindra got Rs. 1 crore from the government for shooting at circles on paper targets.

Now I am not against the award given to Abhinav, sure he deserves it, but if the govt can shell out that much amount for a rich kid with talent, how much more important and worthwhile would the money be for a family who have lost their sole bread-earner and that too in an act of unmatchable patriotism?
As far as the other points go there is an irony for all to see and there is no further need to point it out.

Grassy Highlands

noreply@blogger.com (Saucerer) — Sat, 13 Dec 2008 12:07:00 +0000

Plants through there processes provide oxygen helping you breathe better. So when you breathe a plant you are supposed to feel better. Absolutely right! You feel much better. In fact you feel so much better that you forget anything and everything that ever bothered you in your whole life. In a manner of speaking you reach ‘new heights’ of feeling better. Plants come in various shapes and sizes but the best are those that come about 6 cm long and pretty much dried stiff. Well I happened to come by one such plant recently. And the events that followed are documented below.
There was nothing unusual in the day, a regular day by any standard. So I wake up in the morning like usual and do all the usual rituals of the morning. And since it was a weekend I decided to do something to pass my time. So I went to my friends room to find out what he was up to and if I could join him too. He, like me was bored stiff and had no plans himself. So we thought for a while and I think it was his idea to do something out of the usual. Since it was a Saturday we had the luxury of a Sunday the next day to overcome any effects that might affect us during the course of our unusual activity.( Let me assure the readers at this point that I am not of a different orientation and I like Charlize Theron like any other guy?) We decided to carry out an inhalation experiment. To quantify the effects of dry powdered plants on the human brain. Our cause was noble and our intentions pure. Obtaining the test subject was easy, there being plenty such specimen in our campus. We set the time of the experiment at around 6 pm.
At 6, both of us took the samples and carried forth our experiment as planned. For the first 20 minutes odd there was no change in conditions. Everything was the usual. At the end of 20 minutes we decided the experiment had failed and decided to go to the local coffee outlet. So we got up from our resting places and started walking. Never have I taken a longer walk in my life. I never knew that 200 yards was such a long distance. I was amazed how I used to walk the distance earlier without the slightest hint of fatigue. Having covered a mammoth 3 yards we decided to take an auto. But there was none around. After waiting for sometime a auto came by and we stopped it. When we asked him if he would take us to the coffee place he first laughed thinking we were joking. But when we assured him of our truest intentions he gave us a very funny look and drove away. Wonder what he saw. So having been turned down by an auto driver we decided to walk the distance. So we tried and we were successful in covering another mammoth 3 yards but that was all we could do. So we gave up our plans and decided back to the room but little did we realize that we had walked a whole 6 yards away from the safety of our enclosures. Somehow we managed to trudge back and locked ourselves in our room. Once inside we rummaged for food and consumed whatever we found. Then we fell on our backs. Once in a reclined position we found that we had developed a new skill of levitation. Walking on air we went over to the computer to watch a movie. That day we saw tom and jerry for 3 hrs in 3-D. Jerry kept jumping out of the screen. I even caught him once or twice. Cute little fella that jerry, gave a smile when I caught him. We chatted for quite some time on philosophy and Aristotle. Then he said that he had to get back on the screen since other people were also watching that show so I put him back inside and he continued his run once in a while waving as he went by. I also waved back. Then we stopped watching when we realized we had begun our descent. Slowly but steadily we headed for what people called land and once there we felt a great fatigue grip us. All that physical exercise and mental exercise had taken a toll on us so we slept.
I woke up. It was a usual Saturday. Nothing unusual about it. Bored I decided to go to my friends room.

And the Oscar goes to.....

noreply@blogger.com (Saucerer) — Fri, 12 Dec 2008 12:47:00 +0000

Considering the uneventful timeline that my life is, I don’t think the traditional blog as a diary will work in my case, there simply wouldn’t be much to narrate. And that’s why today I am not going to write any of my views or comments rather I am going to pen a story for your leisure reading.

Oscar Reyes, born 1970, was a successful advertising consultant attached to a large New York firm. Having been born into a middle class family in Long Island, Oscar had grown up the hard way. He had seen his fair share of fights and murders in his lifetime and even been involved in a few of them. But when he got accepted in Princeton, much to his surprise, he got his act together and passed with flying colors. He started out as a small time sales manager of a mid-size firm, and within the first two years of his service became the highest earning sales manager on the west coast.
Of course such talent rarely goes unnoticed. And well noticed he was. In his third year of service, Oscar got a call from AdMedia Ltd., the largest advertising agency in New York. He had been associated with them for 15 years now, having seen the company through its tough times and good times. He had risen through the ranks and was slated to take the top job come December.
It was the same Oscar Reyes, that November morning, who found himself inside a cheap motel room with an even cheaper bottle of vodka, broken next to him. His head bursting from the hangover, he got up and headed to the toilet. A glimpse of his face in the mirror convinced him that last night did not go well. It was swollen and his gums showed a few sockets. He was not new to bar fights and had picked up the skills to emerge champion in them early in his days. He decided to spend the day resting, so he called up his secretary. No one answered the phone. Assuming this was one of those rare days when Lucy got lucky, he let it be. He slouched into bed again, waking up a solid two hours later feeling a little better. He freshened up, put on a new pair of clothes that he found in the closet and headed out for lunch. There was no one at the counter, so taking his car he headed out searching for a place to eat. It was just one of those days when nothing goes right he thought. At last he found a small place a couple miles down the road. He went in and took the seat by the window so that he could keep an eye on the car. Waiting for the waitress to arrive, Oscar tried to recollect the previous night’s events.
He had gone to the bar for a couple of drinks after work. He had not intended to get drunk as he had to prepare a sales report over the weekend and he planned on completing it that night. He had had a couple of beers when he had heard of someone comment about the people from the Bronx, blaming them for all the problems in New York. So he had gotten into a minor argument with the fellow and then things had gotten ugly. He couldn’t recall much after. There was some talk about the police and then the other guy had fled saying this wasn’t over and that he would finish his argument later. He had not given much a thought to that and had carried on. But since he was getting a little high, Oscar decided not to drive and checked into a motel. That is all he could remember. Well, it was over now and he had to think about the big sales report that was due. So he took out his diary, jotting down some points to do later. The waitress still had not come. Not a very patient man, Oscar decided to get some Chinese takeaway and left the place. It was a Saturday, and every Saturday he laid flowers on the grave of his mother.
He picked up some flowers on the way and drove to the graveyard. Saturdays the place was usually not very crowded, but today there was a congregation. A funeral was in progress, so he decided to attend the mass. Laying flowers on his mother’s grave, he walked up to where the proceedings were going on. Looking down at the corpse he realized that he knew the guy. Bending a little closer not to draw too much attention to himself, he tried to get a better look at the person in the coffin.
Oscar Reyes, 1970-2004, ad guru and soon to be CEO of AdMedia was found dead in his motel room last night, been killed by a blow to the head. Police have arrested a suspect, who was involved in a bar fight with him last night and are interrogating him.

Whos the next B(l)ond girl?

noreply@blogger.com (Saucerer) — Thu, 11 Dec 2008 11:44:00 +0000

After the serious previous entry, i think i should make this one a little more light hearted. There are of course more factors, for example my friends think this blog is a hoax because they cant picture me writing heavy stuff like it. It also goes to show that one need not write as he looks.
For those of you who flick the newspapers not giving a tiny rat's alimentary south opening about the headlines but gorging on the spicy and other interesting stuff like Pam's 7th implants (she now needs three walking sticks,the third one for her nose), or how lindsay lohan gave tailors around the world the lower limit for the mini-skirt, you may often wonder how such people nevers stop entertaining. Do they take their 'entertainer' tag a tad too seriously or are they plain too blond?
Personally i would say its the blond phenomen. People actually underestimate the power of the blond phenomenon, thinking its jus a urban legend, some even go to say that its discrimanatory. But i am here to put forth some facts that will positively NOT blow your mind away(of course if you are blond then there is nothing left to blow away).
Let us start with reviewing the news. Who makes most appearances in page 3 news? A few examples come to mind. There is of course as mentioned Pam Anderson and Lindsay Lohan , then we have our Hilton sisters, Ms. Britney and the news are as close as Pam's knockers are to each other (forgive the repeat reference but hell they demand it by sheer size). Occasionaly we may see Sharon, or catch a glimpse of Tara and Tara's but no matter who we see or what we see that belongs to them, at the end of their day , if you notice, they are all blonds. It's true. It must of course be stated that we are considering only people who have well documented tapes ir images that were not part of a commercial movie. So if you were thinking Angelina and Kate, then sorry they dont count. Of course there are the exceptions once in a while but who are we to complain right?
So what is it that makes blonds closer to chimps? Is it the lack of evolutionary development? That would mean that all of us were blonds at some point of time in the past. I am not willing to accept that. Perhaps it is the excess effort the brain puts in making something black look golden that it cannot focus on other things. This seems reasonable, since the excess brain work is done by other organs as things appear. But if that were so then dying one's hair should not have any effect on it. Yet we see Ms. Spears day in day out, in and out of the news like a horny baboon's genitals. So the brain thing cant be it. Then what is it? Well such a lot of thinking makes me actually get up from my couch and do some reading which is totally against work ethics. And since i am a man of principle i stick to my values or in this case my couch. For those of you who have nothing else to do, you are always welcome to find out. As for me, i am jus gonna lay back and watch for more updates from Paris, i got her on live feed (RSS feed for now), and thank god for thinking of the golden colour for hair. Amen to that.

How many terrorists does it take to change the government?

noreply@blogger.com (Saucerer) — Wed, 10 Dec 2008 08:01:00 +0000

Most of you reading this blog must be aware of the recent happenings in Mumbai. If you dont, i suggest you find out and then continue reading.
Each of us will have some memory of this incident, some of us may be moved by the loss of humanity, others may be appalled by the destruction to the Taj, still others maybe disturbed about the smell of fear in the air. For me it was all that and more.
We are the world's largest democracy, the most civilized form of government i would say. Conceptually the most sound. We choose our leaders, we choose our government. We give them the task of looking after us when we are busy looking after our families and making a living. So the events that took place on 26/11 can be termed as a failure of the system. But who failed? Did the govt not do its job in looking after us properly? Or did we make a blunder that we exchanged our safety for a couple of freebies thrown our way?
When a nation is run by a troupe of emasculated street actors I dont think we should expect much more. Emasculated because whatever they had when they were born dropped off when they entered into coalition politics and street actors because, well its obvious why. What kind of a human being denounces the family of a martyr comparing them with dogs? What kind of people try to gain political mileage from situation like these? Now it is, i realize very easy to point fingers at the politicians and blame them for the doings, but we must remember that it is we who put them up there. We gave them the flashing red lights on the cars. So are we idiots? Well to an extent yes. But i would prefer the term ' Common Sensually Challenged'. Because even after 50 years in the compost pit we still do not realize that in election the garbage disposal truck comes around to clean up the crap only to put it back on us later.
Now i am not aligned to any part in particular, i believe that every party has its share of nitwits and morons, but i do believe that if we make them realize that we are in control of this country and they are only the go-betweens then probably they will come around to there senses and attempt to do a better job of running the country. There are many ways of doing so. For the more hands on we can put the politicians over our laps and spank them till they pretty much resemble baboons. Most important to remember is that we cannot give in to the fear of backlash. They have the police at their command, the army at their command and all that but we must remember that these institutions are for our protection not for their pampering. I am not rallying people for a cause, I am not suggesting anything radical. I am only reminding people of the primary power in a democracy, a man's vote. If we spend even a day researching the candidates, filtering the empty promises from the true visions, however little they may be we can hope to bring about a change and more importantly signal that this country wants results and its going to get it. The hol-polloi are not going to lie around letting a bunch of half brain maniacs with automatic rifles take us hostage. I mean seriously, how clever is a guy who plans to stake out in a hotel and kills the chef, the guy he is going to depend on for his food? And how clever are the others who actually support him? For the country of raman, ramanujam etc. that is a shame on lots more than one count.
I hope for all those who have read through the whole thing, you think before u choose your next emasculated street actor.

I lose my bloginity

noreply@blogger.com (Saucerer) — Tue, 09 Dec 2008 09:49:00 +0000

For any writer, or blogger or anyone for that matter, starting to write a piece on a blank sheet or blank page is always the toughest.
So therefore the first few lines are usually some docile introduction and harmless comments to set the tone for the stuff to follow. So this is an introduction. I am predominantly a critical writer, resorting to sarcastic humor in most of my articles. I am not strictly adherent to the sarcasm though, deviating often to dabble in poetry and fictional prose.
If there are a few who like contemplative poetry, or sarcastic humor or just some reading material, then i don't think you will be disappointed. From time to time i shall express my views on loads of matters, for those who know me will know that it is my second nature to comment on nearly everything under the sun and i plan to continue.
My first inkling to start a blog page came when my friend from south-western India commented " I am zurprised you havent blowged yet, considering a loudmouth like you i would have thoght you were blowging by now". Now that i find myself in the middle of holidays and not a job in the world, i decided to put all that wasted energy into typing a few words.
So this is how i lose my bloginity today. Hope you stick around in the days to come