The Slob Slog Blog

Stupid Drunken Whores

noreply@blogger.com (sreeyesh) — Sat, 12 Feb 2011 07:10:00 +0000

If you guys think that girls are really dumb, you’re not wrong. Girls go out of their way to prove how mind-numbingly daft they can really be. Let me be clear here, if it wasn’t obvious from the title of this post, here’s a fair warning: This article contains a lot of offensive swear words, so if you’re someone who gets easily offended by such profanities, then fuck you, you can scroll down and read the post-script. As for the others, fuck you as well, but you can continue reading.

Underwear Overtures

Last year, girls on Facebook started to post various colours as their status messages. Everyone who weren’t in the loop were wondering what's up with that? Was it some big inside joke? When people asked, the girls would giggle “hehehe” and say that it’s not for you to know. OK, so I thought that it’s probably something intimate. Then I learnt it’s the colour of the bras that they were wearing at that moment. Ah, you naughty little tarts!

What do bras make make boys think of? BOOBIES! Who doesn’t love boobies? I love boobies. Every straight male loves boobies. Even gay ones probably love boobies too. How could you not like boobies? BOOBIES! Mmm… boobies.

Then I came to know that posting the colour of their bras was to to raise awareness of breast cancer. Where did I learn it from? Not from the girls on Facebook (because none of them was revealing it), but from news sites. OK, I can see the connection between bras and breasts, but then, how could mentioning bra colour have anything to do with raising awareness of breast cancer, when the word cancer was just being circulated in private messages, but never mentioned outright? Yeah, I was stumped too.

“Guess what I’m wearing inside? I’ll give you a hint: it’s not a disease.”

What would any horny male think when a girl mentions bra? Breasts, not breast cancer. And the clandestine way the girls mentioned it only made me think that they were being stupid as well as slutty.

Coming out as Sluts

Then after some months, girls started posting “where they like it” as their status updates. “I like it on the table. Heehee!” “I like it in the cupboard. Hoohoo!” “I like it in the loo. Poopoo!” What thought crossed my mind seeing this? That there was probably some liberation campaign going on where girls are openly coming out about their sexuality. They like to fuck, and they like to fuck at unconventional places. Good for them! If bitches like being slutty, and if they like to flaunt their sluttiness, by all means let them.

Then I learnt that by “where they like it” they meant “where they like to keep their handbags”. If the words “What the fuck?!” escaped your mouth, then that was exactly what my reaction was too. But prepare to put a heavy iron glove on your hand because you’ll need it when you hear the reason why girls were posting it on Facebook: it was to raise awareness about breast cancer. Yes, you can facepalm, really hard with that iron glove.

Again, I didn’t come to know of this from the girls themselves, or from their status messages. Like last time, I came to know about it from news sites. Quite a convoluted way to let people know that they were talking about breast cancer.

Once more, lets put it into perspective: how does a double entendre about handbags even remotely relate to breast cancer? I mean, really? Handbags and cancer? How could there be any correlation between these two?

Handbags on racks! Get it? Racks?

Two #FAILS in a span of some months, and could the bimbos raise any awareness? Hell no! They’d have probably forgotten about it themselves the very next day. Raising money is ruled out, because updating statuses and staying on Facebook don’t produce any money (actually, it does generate money, but only for Mark Zuckerberg).

Drunk Bitches

Recently, I noticed girls posting single worded status updates with the names of various alcoholic drinks. Since more than one girl was posting similar shit without giving any other reason, I was intrigued, but I had an inkling where this could possibly be leading to. So I ran a Google news search with the keywords “Facebook alcohol status”. My intuition was dead on.

I’d have thought two stupendous fiascos would have knocked some sense into these bitches, but I thought wrong. Corresponding to their current relationship status, girls were posting the name of a drink. If single, then tequila, if married, beer, etc. Why? Put on that iron glove once more. Again, it was to raise awareness of breast cancer. HOW THE FUCK DOES THAT EVEN BEGIN TO MAKE ANY SENSE?

Like, a toast *HIC* for cancer! Cheers!

The message that was circulated among the girls came with the following advice:

DO NOT REDUCE THE FUN OF THIS GAME on your wall, explaining the meaning of your status to all those who are curious! Tell them in private and ask them not to write the information on FB or email! It’s more fun to learn by word of mouth and, thus, the mystery will be kept for longer!

Yeah, NOT talking about breast cancer is a little “fun game”, which would end if they actually mentioned it. Apparently, these dumb dolts all still agreed that openly talking about breast cancer could never raise enough awareness of it as much as them being secretive about it. Like talking in codes like an elite bunch of douchebags could do a lot of good. Because it’s “fun”.

But forget about the absurd antics. What would be the first obvious reaction of people who see girls posting names of alcoholic drinks? That maybe the girl is having the said drink. Or maybe she enjoys having the said drink. And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. I don’t have any problems with anyone having a few drinks responsibly.

But general knowledge and irony is lost on these stupid bitches, because alcohol is associated with an increased risk of a number of cancers. More specifically, alcohol consumption is linked as a risk factor for breast cancer in women. That’s the same like raising awareness about cruelty to animals by telling everyone what your favourite type of fur cloth is. Way to spread awareness, bitches. You devastatingly dumb, profoundly puerile, remarkably retarded, seriously stupid BITCHES!

Oh, are you girls reading this getting offended? Good! Because when you threw your common sense out of the window, it really hurt mine.

Why it pisses me off

Let’s examine all this closely: bra colour, places where girls like to keep their handbags and alcoholic drinks. You know what’s common among all these three? None of them mention two words: Breast Cancer. Stupid bitches who perpetrated these bullshit in order to promote awareness of breast cancer completely ignored mentioning the underlying issue of breast cancer.

Subsequent comments on such status updates would be something like “I’d love to see that colour on you”, “You like it on the table? I like it in bed” or “Hey, wanna catch a drink sometime?” There would be all sorts of nonsense being said, but no one would say anything about breast cancer, because they wouldn’t know about it anyway.

Now I’m not trying to be less serious about the issue of breast cancer. I’m all for awareness, because it damn well is a serious issue and needs to be taken very gravely. Being a boy, I have even mentioned it to my mother. But what are these girls doing? Nothing at all, but trying to act all cute and concerned when really, they just portray themselves as loose sluts (albeit cute). They are all in effect trivializing a fatal disease. They’ll flirt and act all dark and mysterious, while breast cancer awareness gets completely side-lined.

Did I see anyone writing anything about symptoms of breast cancer or its diagnosis? Did they provide any information or statistics about it? Did they link to any charities, foundations or institutions that deal with breast cancer? Did anyone appeal to their friends to make a little donation? Did anyone even make a little request to sport the pink ribbon? Nope. Not even once. If anything can be termed as massive failures of collective intelligence, it’s these embarrassing blunders. Not once, not twice, but three times. So you can guess how big the individual intelligence of these girls really would be.

“I can hear the sea inside my head!”

Why it pisses me off even more

One of my close friend’s mother was suffering from lung cancer. Last year, it took the wind out of my chest when I saw the state of her after chemotherapy. She was a complete opposite of the lively lady whom I used to know: weak, emaciated and prematurely old. At that moment, I couldn’t even begin to imagine what my friend would have been going through. He had then informed me that they could only try to ease her pain and hope for more longevity. All those times whenever I used to call him, I tried not to talk too much about it, because it even hurt me.

Last month, after a prolonged battle with her illness, she passed away. She was a lovely lady, and I had known her since my school days. When I came to know of her demise, I couldn’t find any words of comfort to offer to my friend, because I was too shocked.

Wikipedia says that lung cancer is the most common cancer in terms of both incidence and mortality, in both men and women. Skin cancer takes more lives of women than breast cancer. Yet, the floozies on Facebook never talk about that. I don’t see anyone saying anything about lung cancer. Why? Because breasts are sexy but lungs and skin are not? Are other forms of cancer not glamourous enough?

There is nothing, and I repeat NOTHING glamourous about cancer. When these wenches on Facebook do these foolish stunts in the name of a carcinoma, they are taking away the focus from the core issue by flirting and acting naughty and generally being all-round whores and trivializing everything about cancer: the seriousness of the disease, the treatment and the pain that the patients and their loved ones go through.

You bimbos are not doing anything other than reinforcing the stereotype that girls are fucking stupid and inherently ignorant creatures. You are not earning any respect by doing these senseless shenanigans, just losing whatever you have. Spare a little thought for the ones who suffer. If you can’t do that, wear a red bra, go to the bar, have some drinks and let some guy screw you on the table.

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P.S.: Seeing that you girls on Facebook aren’t very bright, this entire post may have flown way over your heads, or you probably didn’t read it anyway. So I’ll do a little summarizing for you ladies in the immortal words of the legendary Antoine Dodson: “You’re so dumb. You are really dumb, for real! You are really, really, really, really so dumb! So dumb, so dumb, so dumb, SO!”

And you can run and tell that, homegirls.

Witnessing an Accident

noreply@blogger.com (sreeyesh) — Thu, 22 Jul 2010 17:42:00 +0000

The last time I had to witness an accident happen, I was badly shaken. It was all over in one horrible minute. That day, I couldn’t eat and had somehow forced myself to sleep. It took a couple of days for me to get over it and forget that awful image that seemed to be etched inside my head. Two days ago, I had to see another.

It was another one of those bad days for me. I was returning home on the bike and was just about a kilometre away when it happened. Ahead of me was a mini truck and a bike with two guys on it. Suddenly, without any indication, the mini-truck swerved and hit the bike, which was immediately thrown off balance and the two people on it hit hard on asphalt.

I don’t know what my reaction was. Now that I think of it, I don’t know if I had consciously applied the brakes to stop at the side of the road and run back to see if the people were alright. I don’t like to see blood, it makes me queasy, and by the look of that fall, I was expecting the worst. I just hoped that those two people were alright. They were stirring, they had bruises all over, and they were in pain. A few people had gathered around by now. I took out my phone to call the police. There was no network.

I looked at the person who was sitting pillion. He was lying on the ground and trying to sit up. I shouted at him to lie down on the ground and not to move. The other guy was on his feet being helped by someone—he was apparently better. I turned back the the smaller guy and saw that there was something odd with his legs. My insides were squirming, the last thing I wanted to see was a dislocated bone or a fracture. But I saw that he was severely handicapped by polio. I was starting to panic.

Someone suggested to take them to a hospital. I volunteered to get a rickshaw, but seeing the traffic, going back and fetching a rickshaw would have taken a lot of time. Another biker who had stopped offered to take one to the hospital. The handicapped person had somehow got up and he was in obvious pain. When all I heard was “Koi isko hospital le jao”, I volunteered.

I told the guy to hold on to me tightly, and kept asking him random questions all the way to keep him talking. I learnt that his name was Prem. In that panicky hurry, the only thing I heard I registered earlier was “the other guy has been taken to the hospital in Sector 12”. Then I realized, there are a lot of hospitals in Sector 12. I took him to the one closest and told the nurse to take care of him. I was told his injuries did not appear to be very severe. Prem had no phone on him and there was no way to find out where his partner was admitted. I wrote down my cell phone number, gave it to him and assured him that I’d return very soon after I’ve tracked down the other guy.

After checking in about 6 clinics, I finally found the one where the other guy was admitted (it wasn’t in Sector 12). Thankfully, there were other three other people there, who I came to know were his friends whom he had called up. I took two of them to the other clinic where Prem was admitted. After being reassured that everything would be taken care of, I left.

Witnessing an accident on the road happen right in front of your eyes is a really horrible experience. Later that night, I was being almost overwhelmed by the feeling of “what if it was me on that bike”. It was just by pure luck and sheer coincidence that I was able to avoid being involved in that mishap. If I was going a bit too fast, I’d have fell as well. And then that awful thought crossed my mind: what if there was a woman carrying a little child on that bike. I probably wouldn’t have had the courage to see what would have happened. I’m big wuss. But then, I somehow consoled myself by thinking that the victims were alright and that at least I was able to help one of them; at least I didn’t have to stare helplessly in utter shock at a body lying crushed under the wheels of a trailer.

I Hate Luv Storys—The Review

noreply@blogger.com (sreeyesh) — Wed, 09 Jun 2010 08:14:00 +0000

So I went and watched Rajneeti yesterday and now I present to you my review of I Hate ~~Love Stories~~ Luv Storys.

“Wait, what? You watched Rajneeti, asshole. So review that.”

OK. Rajneeti is a political hodgepodge with guns and explosions.

So back to the review of I Hate Luv…

“Hold on! I Hate Luv Storys has not even released yet. You can’t revie…”

[Sound of gunshot]

So as I was saying, I went to watch Rajneeti and saw the theatrical trailer for I Hate Luv Storys during the interval. And that was enough for me to write an entire review of IHLS (abbreviation is inevitable and apparently, unaffected by numerology) for you people.

What’s the story? Produced by Karan Johar’s Dharma Productions, IHLS tells the story of a boy who doesn’t believe in ~~love~~ luv and a girl who does. He’s the cool hip happy-go-lucky guy and she is the girl in search of true ~~love~~ luv. Hmmm… Now where have we heard that before?

Psst! Not the only source.

Well yes, the first one that comes to my mind is of course Dil Chahta Hai, because that movie has a certain freshness and cool factor about it. The IHLS story is just plucked out of DCH—just that part about Sid and Shalini. So, in IHLS, Aamir Khan has been replaced by his nephew and Preity Zinta by Anil Kapoor’s daughter (Bollywood: Nepotism, Inc.). The boy and girl are opposite in beliefs and character and if the laws of Bollywood teaches us something, opposites attract. So they start to fall in love (a lip lock between the lead pair can be expected, because smooching in movies is in vogue now, and it can also be used as scrap fodder for the desperate and hungry entertainment news people), they travel all around the world, sing songs, break up, make up, sing more songs and live happily ever after.

It’s just the same old wine, in the same old bottle; they’ve just changed the stickers.

With added cute!

Summary: Girl wants to teach boy the power of love. [SPOILER: Boy learns the power of love.]

There, I just saved all you people Rs.200 (and an additional Rs.200 in food and drinks at the multiplex). You’re welcome. Now, if you still want to watch IHLS, I’d suggest you to slap yourself, slap yourself once more on the left side and watch DCH again. It’s a better movie and you’d be saved the pain of watching Imran Khan ham on a large screen. If you still want to waste your money, then please send it to me. I’ll gladly accept it (free of charge). No, Karan Johar doesn’t need to worry at all. The deliberate grammatical errors in the title of the movie would make sure that it would be a financial hit.

P.S.: The spell checker hates numerology. Stupid spell checker.

On the God Hypothesis and Religion

noreply@blogger.com (sreeyesh) — Thu, 01 Apr 2010 12:51:00 +0000

This is inspired by (and since he felt I’d be interested in it, a response to) Aayush’s post On Creationism Versus Evolution. Although, I had in fact made a rough draft on these things randomly a long time back, but I never bothered much to structure the thoughts or polish it. But before everything,

Disclaimer: I’m not a good writer and it’s not hard to see that I’m not. I probably won’t be very clear and elaborative on expressing my thoughts, but I hope to do my best. Philosophy is not really my forte; even though I do have a lot of things going on in my mind, it’s kind of hard for me to put them into words. I’d expect the Goan bastard to be an ace at such stuff. As I said, I’ll try my best. Also, this is gonna be long and boring.

Why God, Why?

Well, Aayush is probably right about the answer to the question of “who created God?”, in that it is just one of the many things which in my opinion that led to God being the answer. From whatever I’ve read, heard, watched, and deduced with some independent reasoning by myself, I could say that God (and religion) was created as an easy and convenient cop-out for the question “who are we, and why are we here?” Any normal human being is bound to ask that question, like a child asking its parents “where did I come from?”, because we are an inquisitive species that need answers for everything. When there aren’t many other explanations, the God theory is the one that could be assumed to work.

If you want my hypothesis, then as more human beings started getting comfortable with the notion of a powerful supernatural creator who created everything including human beings themselves, they might have realized that they that they have a source—a creator parent—that would tell them the purpose of their lives. No one in known history would have actually ever seen God (except maybe manifestations in dreams and hallucinations), but through various experiences, they might have concluded that certain things—thoughts, philosophies, actions, phenomena or individual persons themselves—are a word, sign, act or an incarnation of God. They also probably simultaneously started believing that this almighty being, as a creator-parent, watches over them for whatever they are doing, judging right or wrong. That, again, is an easy cop-out to hold a person accountable for their actions. And naturally, that proved that this way, human beings can be controlled with the belief of a higher omnipotent and omniscient power.

Justification

We are always on the lookout for something to support an answer, a crutch, something to believe in why things happen—some would be satisfied thinking that it’s God’s will, some would use words like fate and destiny, while others would say that it’s the evil eye of the envious. But in the end, it works for them and they think it’s true because the thought is satisfying. I hope I’m conveying my point here.

People can easily do bad things and get away with it. Someone affected by the bad actions of a person would naturally want justice or revenge. But it is not that easy, is it? The concept of God (as well as things like the afterlife, heaven and hell, karma, '”what goes around comes around”, Judgement day, etc.) could as well have been made as it offers a very good consolation to the aggrieved that they can rest assured that the wrongdoer will be punished, he will reap what he sowed, and all that. And simultaneously, the concept of divine justice is also effective from a psychological viewpoint at restraining people from committing wrong things.

Now, as a group, people would have agreed upon certain things that could be, have to be, or should not be done. As an easy progression and extension to God, what were earlier cultural values and mores, could naturally be assumed to be sacred commandments in due course and later on be assimilated as religious doctrines—something that could draw parallels with Aayush’s point of the cat in the temple. Human beings want to be happy, happy to know answers about themselves and things around them, and to be felt as part of a group. With religion centered around a God, it becomes fairly easy to achieve all of these. Sam Harris offers a very good explanation.

It’s Natural

For someone who doesn’t know anything about the concepts of evolution or natural selection, it would be reasonable to feel awed by the surroundings. It would not be difficult to assume that everything that one sees in nature is the result of divine creation. It is a satisfying answer. Of course, you look at an animal like a cat, and it’s easy to assume that a creature of such complexity cannot be the result of random chance, and that intelligent design can explain it fairly well. But people like Richard Dawkins, Daniel Dennett or Sam Harris offer quite concrete explanations to God and religion as a natural and biological phenomenon built in to human beings, something that would naturally be designed by people.

In fact, as Dennett says, religion is something that has been brilliantly designed, and something that evolved over the course of years, as a result of natural selection. If you look at history and study civilization, you’d find there have been many Gods and religions that were in existence at a time, all of which are now extinct or have been replaced, but various influences can certainly be traced. If you give it a thought, religion (or the word of God) evolved over the years to suit contemporary needs. It underwent various changes, driven by many contemporary factors, till it became dominant. But once it became dominant, all the major ones seem to have stagnated without progress, refusing fiercely to part ways with old belief systems.

Here, I would like to quote Bertrand Russell on philosophy:

In philosophy, though not in science, there are those who make changes a matter of reproach. This I think results from a tradition which assimilates philosophy with tradition, rather than with science. […] I should regard an unchanging system of philosophical doctrines as proof of intellectual stagnation. A prudent man imbued with the scientific spirit will not claim that his present beliefs are wholly true, though he may console himself with the thought that his earlier beliefs were perhaps not wholly false.

(There are hundreds upon hundreds of Russell’s brilliant quotes on this topic; you gotta read them at your leisure.)

As with natural selection, a dominant religion tries to survive and stay relevant in the light of scientific breakthroughs that make religious explanations look obsolete and ridiculous. To show that they are relevant, they try their best not to change and take to desperate measures like literary shoehorning.

The Good And The Bad

If someone were to say that the belief in a God is good because people can do good things in God’s name, then I can’t quite agree. One thing I am absolutely convinced of is that there are absolutely no absolutes in this world. There is no absolute good or absolute evil. These are all variables that change from time to time, place to place, culture to culture—there is no absolute morality. What would make you happy, what would satisfy you, what you think right, is what is good for you. It might not necessarily be considered good by another person.

When you think about it, in the end, it all results in a manner in which a person was brought up. Children do not get informed consent in what to and what not to believe. They are taught about the good and bad by their parents, usually in line with their religious beliefs. Passive acceptance comes easily for kids; kids are programmed by evolution to listen and learn from their parents. If I were to have a child, I know what I should tell him. I could start with “Stealing is bad. Think of how you would feel if someone stole your stuff”, rather than “God would smite you” and progress to “It is very wrong to kill a person. You have one life. Think of how many things you can do. Think of how many things you could see. Would you want to deprive a person of all those opportunities by taking his life?” We just need to be open and have open minds. We just need to bring up people to be good. Not as effective as “God would punish you”? I don’t think so.

You see, if people can be restrained by the thought of an old man in the sky watching their deeds, it is equally possible to hold them accountable by teaching them about the laws of the land, because by the look of things, it does seem that not many people (especially religious ones) seem to be concerned about the wrath of God these days, anyway.

Miracles and Modern Shoehorning

Drawing from my earlier statement, it’s easy to attribute the unknown to miracles or the supernatural. Almost every known culture would have had their own explanation about eclipses. The sun, the giver of light, the maker of day, being turned dark suddenly certainly was bound to be seen as an out-of-the-usual evil occurrence. Hence, it was obvious to have so many superstitions associated with eclipses at that time, many of which continue to be perpetuated by Hindi news channels these days. But today, we know that eclipses are just shadows, nothing else.

Centuries ago, people had no idea what caused diseases. It is plausible that they would have assumed that these diseases—bad things that caused harm and suffering to human beings—were caused by something malevolent, in the absence of a proper satisfying answer. So obviously, they’d have thought that diseases were caused by something evil like the devil, or an omen, witchcraft or the evil eye or perhaps eclipses too. Superstitions about those things still abound.

But when people discovered that certain plants and herbs had properties that could provide relief to a victim suffering from a disease, it’s plausible that people immediately saw that these plants that could alleviate pain and suffering, as the antithesis of evil—virtuous and sacred, God like even. So in their minds, these were nothing short of miracles. The discovery of curative properties of trees like Neem or Tulsi would probably have been the result of experimental trials or freaky coincidences, but the discovery was in itself quite an achievement. And since it was something like magic, use of these magical herbs to be incorporated into sacred texts and rites and rituals probably was a matter-of-course.

Of course, people back then didn’t know the chemical composition of Neem oil or that Neem seeds contain a highly oxidized tetranortriterpenoid called azadirachtin which “boasts a plethora of oxygen functionality, comprising an enol ether, acetal, hemiacetal, and tetra-substituted oxirane as well as a variety of carboxylic esters”, or that Tulsi has high concentrations of 1-hydroxy-2-methoxy-4-allylbenzene which acts as a pain-killer (all data referred from Wikipedia). But now do we know because of scientific researches. The expertise that people have now was lacking with people back then.

But these scientific researches are now used to to back-fit and validate ancient literature and rites. You see, just because ancient doctors or researchers discovered something doesn’t make the discovery a miracle. Discoveries are always waiting to happen. Statements like “use of neem and tulsi was already there in our sacred texts and rituals since eons and science is just now discovering various such properties; it just tells how much our ancestors knew about these things; our sacred books are truly wondrous; our religion is true” are made a lot these days and this is a desperate method to validate stuff and smacks of intellectual dishonesty. In fact, people nowadays look for words and statements in ancient texts, and use the ambiguity of language to shoehorn science into pure woo (in some cases, they’d try to construe pure malicious statements as euphemisms for something else).

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There ends the main part of the response to Aayush’s thoughts. Now, for some of my own thoughts:

Religion = Brainwashing

Initially, perhaps (I can’t emphasize on the word ‘perhaps’ enough) religion was devised with good intentions, but with the current scenario, it takes all sorts of ugly faces. Let me quote a person named Adrian Barnett:

“If a child runs into the room saying “Mummy, mummy! I love Jesus and He loves me! We’re all going to Heaven when we die and God is looking over us!”, people will smile and praise the child. Nobody would say “Don’t be silly. You can’t possibly say that because you don’t fully understand everything about the religion. How can you know that for sure, when you’ve not read the Bible in the original Hebrew?!?”. But if a child (or teenager, or adult) says “I’ve had a good think about it, and have come to the conclusion that Jesus is a myth and nothing in Christianity makes much sense. I declare myself to be a freethinking secular humanist.”, then they are quite likely to receive the latter response. You could have all the theological training of a hedgehog and still get wild applause if you stand up and say you’re a Christian, but it seems that atheists are required to demonstrate more intelligence and Biblical expertise than all the clergymen and theologians that have ever lived before they are allowed to publicly express their doubts.”

Replace Christianity with any religion in Barnett’s statements. It’s the same deal in almost every case. The children are being taught be believe all the woos that their parents believe. When a child would say that “Ganesha loves me!” or “Allah adores me!”, he/she is being a child on the “righteous path”. A child that doesn’t know what independent thought is is brought up to be a Hindu child or a Christian child or a Muslim child. That’s the identity they are given right from when their minds are developing. “You are a Christian/Muslim/Hindu first and only then are you a human being”. Propaganda right from the start. What else can you call it but systematic brainwashing? But when a guy starts to think, he gets strayed. He commits a big sin by rejecting some old beliefs. This is the only smart way that religion can survive—brilliant design.

I love Barnett’s statements, because I have also been at the receiving end of religious criticism very often when I try to have a debate. The usual stuff thrown at me is “You don’t know what you are talking about. You don’t have a clue. Have you read those beautiful books? Come back when you read them”. I wouldn’t have been able to be in a position to question your belief if I wasn’t aware of what I was talking about in the first place, would I? Did your little child ever read the Bible or Koran or the Ramayana or the Gita to worship your respective gods? Does your child even know why he/she is following some rites and rituals? Does he/she know the supposed complex symbolic meanings that is there in the scriptures? But when I put a logical reasoning against your beliefs, all of a sudden, I get condescending words which imply that I’m a no good imbecile who doesn’t know anything. When someone questions the logic, they're usually (if not resort to threats and abuse) given the same redundant answer: “It’s true because the book says so. The book is true because it is God’s word.” But the faith is strong enough to make them so obtuse to see the ridiculous infinite reduction here.

Another ludicrous answer put to me is “It’s been this way for centuries. Our ancestors couldn’t have been wrong!” WRONG! Did your great great grandpa really know that the earth was round? Did your great great great grandma and her second cousin know that the chicken pox was actually caused by a virus, and not by a witch? Did they know eclipses are just celestial shadows, and not caused by mythical monster called Rahu? No, they didn’t. But now, we know. And people would frown upon persons who think otherwise. But when it comes to religion, they choose to remain static. “No chance about that going wrong! The book says so…”

The fact is, religious people usually don’t try something out of their books. Like a beautiful thing called thinking out of the books. Only the people who questioned the conventions, those who swam against the current, have changed the world. Religion never did anything much significant other than unite like-minded people (or perhaps people who were made to believe), and later on make them into a cult, make them feel good about themselves, make them violent, flow rivers of blood and make them suspicious of each other, and it still continues, and that hasn’t changed since centuries. It would have been better if a religion told its people something like “Dude, you’re free to believe in a grandpa in the sky and stuff, but hey, just keep it to yourself. It’s your personal thing, kapish? He loves you and and all, but there’s no need to take things too seriously. Just do your job, live your life, don’t do evil and enjoy!” But does any religion do that? The biggest problem is that religion teaches people not only to love their god, but at the same time also to be afraid of him, to be in awe of him and to be proud of him—to love, be afraid, be in awe of and to honour and defend an imaginary friend and to be proud that you believe in that imaginary friend. It’s no wonder that the fanatics can be so fucked up.

[Comic via Toonpool]

Dear Angry Hindus

noreply@blogger.com (sreeyesh) — Fri, 26 Feb 2010 17:21:00 +0000

Have you been to the Ellora Caves in Aurangabad, Maharashtra? It’s one of India’s most awesome ancient historical monuments. I’ve been to Ellora Caves twice, and believe me, I saw a lot of sculptures of naked ladies with big boobs and gents with their ~~Johnsons~~ Babu-Raos hanging out. Pictured below is a rock sculpture showing Shiva and his lady Parvati at Ellora:

Bom chika wow wow!

Yes, as you can see, Parvati’s tits are clearly visible (notice those nipples?). And look at Shiva’s left hand (Boom Shankar! Yep, he’s holdin’ boob! You naughty god, you!). Can’t really blame that guy. Shiva’s known to be an outcast from society, is horny, wraps himself in tiger-skin (Aircel, take note and do nothing), smokes cannabis, drinks soma, has a huge ego, violent temper and plays a drum while holding a chick wrapped in his long hair. The dude’s practically a rock-star.

But, leaving aside Shiva’s horniness and awesomeness, I was wondering if the sculptures were made at a time when wearing clothes wasn’t fashionable? Could be, right? I mean, if Hindus at that time weren’t so crazy about clothes, that could explain why the gods are depicted in their birthday suits, couldn’t it?

But, I know. Something is clearly wrong here. How can Shiva and Parvati be depicted nude? That’s fucking blasphemy! That is against Hindu culture and moral values. That is against our glorious tradition. C’mon, let’s destroy those statues and imprison the people that made them!

Oh, wait. The guys who sculpted this thing would be long dead. This was made somewhere between the 5th to 10th century A.D. (source: Wikipedia). Traditions were probably formed around those times, no? But fuck that! THOSE SCULPTURES ARE VULGAR AND THEY MUST BE DESTROYED, I SAY! What? No? Oh, c’mon! Where is all your aggression? Where is all that rage? Where is that vengeful anguish that you guys show, like you did over that frail old Muslim artist* who painted some goddesses in the nude?

Seriously, you guys are nuts! How can thousands of people visit those caves everyday, enjoy the history and be peaceful when there are boobs of goddesses exposed? Would you like your mother or sister be depicted like that? No na? So what are you waiting for? Go fucking destroy those caves!

FUCK YEAH!!!

What’s that? Those sculptures were made by ancient Hindus? But your mothers? I mean, that’s your argument against that artist, right? I give up! How could you excuse those perverse lunatics of the Kamasutra period who fashioned those disgusting obscene sculptures? Oh, shit! The Kamasutra! If you’re gonna destroy those dirty statues, you guys should totally fucking burn every damn copy of the Kamasutra! It’s full of ashleelta. Chee! Don’t you know we pious Hindus don’t have sex that way? Sex is bad! Oh, fuck! DAMN YOU EIGHT HUNDRED MILLION HINDUS AND GROWING LIKE RABBITS! You people are really making this whole thing look like an exercise in futility.

Er… I think I’m digressing. But I’m not being a hypocrite here at all. Just like how you people are trying to punish the fuck out of that feeble little old man and destroy all his offensive paintings, you guys should really look at your history and annihilate all profane works of historical Indian art ever made that depicts any god or goddess in the nude. No really, you’re doing everything right! You really should be fractious about these things. You should rightfully not let him take Qatari citizenship, and get him back to India so you could all kick his wrinkly old ass, to serve as a lesson to anyone who would so much as even think of painting any naked goddess in the future. Don’t you let that 95 year old man live in peace for whatever little time he has got left on this earth.

—

PS: With this post, I declare myself a marked man whose life could be threatened.

*To be very honest, if some of M.F. Hussain’s paintings can be considered art, then my 6 year old little cousin could draw even better than him—she draws things that are at least perceivable. I find it hard to see any woman (let alone any goddess) in some of the paintings by this “great artist”. Some filthy rich fucks probably find marvellous artistry in his work; I find him way overrated than my little Kichchu. I’ve never been a fan of abstract modern art, so it could be just me. But if some of those things are art, then so is this shit that I made:

Yes, you have the right to be offended

So who’s giving me 20 million dollars for my art? It’s drawn in MSPaint with digital ink whose colours are some hashcodes. I call it “Divine Bullshit”. That is a random goddess next to goobimama. Yeah, that’s Milind Alvares doing his usual thing. Trust me, to be depicted beside that crazy Goan motherfucker is more of an insult to a goddess than any insult that could be painted by M.F. Hussain. Plus, he’s kind of Christian. HALLA BOL!

Saving The Tigers By Online Stupidity

noreply@blogger.com (sreeyesh) — Sat, 06 Feb 2010 19:41:00 +0000

The internet unites people. It really does. Intense debates, causes, shits… Blogs, social networking, news. You name it, people will be there. It is the world’s greatest network for communication that brings a lot of people together (but also responsible for comments on Rediff). Unfortunately, it can also unite loons who forgot to go to the clue shop. There are two kinds of people among all the other two kinds of peoples. People who actually contribute to a cause productively, and those who actively give lip service.Take a look at this:

Roaring together for the tigers.

WOW! (As if the Aircel campaign wasn’t senseless enough.) You people are so caring and thoughtful. You guys, all the 19,283 (as of this screenshot, and counting), just saved the 1141 tigers left AND also caused a tigress to give birth to 3 cute little cubs with all your… passionate one line rhetorical sentences posted on a Group of a social networking site that really couldn’t give a rat’s ass about a bunch of oh-so-good we’re-all-only-so-good-at-telling-what-should-be-done people huddled together online for a cause—which ultimately can’t even produce a whiff of wind to move a little feather.

Oh these kinds of stupidity, it hurts my face from all the incessant palming. I’ll be frank here. I’m no activist, but if there was something genuine I could do, I probably might try to help. In the meantime, have all you “groupies” actually ever questioned anything regarding this issue or tried to find out some information?

Now ideally, I’d personally really want to knock some fucking sense into you people. Should I start a group for that? Nah, it will only attract some more morons who’d also want to do that kind of stuff, but actually would only post hate on the “group-wall”. Doesn’t make sense right? I probably could venture out offline and hire some people to knock some sense into you (because, honestly, I really can’t do it). But I won’t, because it is senseless (and a lost cause).

Now, I know that you know about the 1141 tigers because of those Aircel ads and one of you having a lightbulb moment jumped at the opportunity and started a group on Facebook, and the other sheep flocked around. But did you even for one second think how the fuck and what the fuck would Aircel be really doing to save the tigers? Yeah they fucking made you aware! Dhoni gave his royal commandment on TV. Big fucking deal! So how exactly is it saving the tigers? Blogging? Sending text messages? That’s gonna stop the poaching right? Because all those poachers really carry their laptops and Aircel mobile internet cards along with their guns and are really members of StumbleUpon and Digg, right? They would actually grow a fucking conscience by reading all your lustfully fierce blogs for the cause of the tigers, wouldn’t they? And the tigers, they’d really get all horny and start romping and produce little cubs because you voyeurs are silently voicing your valuable opinions on a Facebook group, right?

No, not this Tiger. He doesn’t need your online help to romp.

It doesn’t take much to realize that the task is humongous. It would take sincere efforts and a shit lot of money for the protection and conservation of tigers and their habitats. But what the fuck are people doing about it? I really don’t know. I’m not in a position to comment. Am I being a hypocrite here? Perhaps yes. But still, practically, I won’t be the kind of great armchair hypocrites as you people are in this issue. If I’m not doing anything by not doing anything, you’re even worse because you type and type and type and still do nothing. And Aircel is doing what you all are doing: telling everyone to do something, but ultimately, sit and do very little. Saveourtigers.com shows that more than 65,000 people have “joined the roar” and … um… yeah, they’ve joined. That’s it. What exactly would happen if I “pledge my support” or “join the roar”? I show my solidarity? YAAY! I totally saved tigers! So you know what? Fuck you, and double fuck you, Aircel!

P.S.: What the fuck is with you Facebook people, becoming fans of sentences describing a mundane activity? Yeah, I wake up at 12 pm, I brush my teeth with Close-up™, I scratch my balls and think that “yep, feels good”® and probably do some more things most of you might be doing. But, gosh, are these things to be a fan of?

Addendum: Someone asked me, “What about Orkut?” Well, the infinitely intelligent people on Orkut would have already made 150 “sAvE dA tiGeRzzZz....!!!!” communities with words written in a random combination taken from 150,000 indiscernible weird fonts. But they’d still be better than the Facebook smart guys, because they’d all start an infinite word game thread and will continue making fraandship requests to random people (meaning, people having a female’s face as their picture). Saving tigers be damned!

Agneepath, The Poem—Why I Still Remember It

noreply@blogger.com (sreeyesh) — Fri, 15 Jan 2010 19:01:00 +0000

So this movie Agneepath starring Amitabh Bachchan was on Sony Max and I was reminded of the legendary poem of the same name by Amitabh's father Harivansh Rai Bachchan (not related to Aishwarya Rai Bachchan before Bachchan Jr. married her). It goes like this (if you can read Hindi):

अग्निपथ! अग्निपथ! अग्निपथ!

वृक्ष हो भले खड़े,
हो घने, हो बड़े,
एक पत्र-छाह भी,
मांग मत, मांग मत, मांग मत,
अग्निपथ, अग्निपथ, अग्निपथ।

तू न थकेगा कभी,
तू न थमेगा कभी,
तू न मुड़ेगा कभी,
कर शपथ, कर शपथ, कर शपथ!
अग्निपथ, अग्निपथ, अग्निपथ।

यह महान दृश्य है,
चल रहा मनुष्य है,
अश्रु, श्वेत, रक्त से,
लथपथ, लथपथ, लथपथ,
अग्निपथ, अग्निपथ, अग्निपथ।

I won’t bother translating it, but I still recollect every word of it. This poem was in my Hindi textbook when I was in the 8^th or 9^th standard. But it was somehow (I don’t know why) not included in our “exam curriculum” and hence was not “taught” to us by the teacher. But I can remember every verse in it by heart. You might be wondering what was it about this poem that left a lasting impression on me for it to be etched on my memory forever, even when it was not “included in the syllabus or taught”.

Grand B.

Was it because it’s a thought-provoking inspirational poem that changed me somehow? Fuck no. OK, it actually is a good poem and if you really read it, it isn’t very hard to really memorize it, but still, it would have faded from my memory in 8 years. I remember it, all thanks to the Great Kavi Shri Shrikant Tiwariji.

“Now who the fuck is Shrikant Tiwari?” you ask? Well, Shrikant Tiwari was my classmate in school and he used to sit next to me. Now, Shrikant had a penchant for turning seemingly ordinary poetry into really interesting poetry by substituting words in them with words that would be considered downright obscene and filthy by old people, ladies and some abnormal guys. And boy, Shrikant’s modded version of Angeepath sounded fucking hilarious at that time. Forbidden language, which 13-14 year old would not find it funny? Almost every guy in class laughed their guts out loud when they heard it.

When you really look at it, when words are changed a bit here and there, things can get a bit, or a lot more interesting and funny. It’s simple, people; simple vulgar mnemonics. Boys love it! But I’m not posting Shrikant’s version here, because, you know, old people, ladies and some abnormal guys may get offended (Amitabh Bachchan himself might not be very amused, if he happened to stumble upon this page).

P.S.: Did you know P.S. is abbreviation for postscript? No, it does NOT stand for “Psst!”, you jackass! Yeah, you’re welcome. And no, unlike you, I knew it since I was in 7^th or 8^th standard. No, not using any vulgar mnemonics. I used to read stuff. Stuff other than school textbooks.

PPS.: I wonder where Shrikant is right now. I haven’t been in contact with the guy since years. Really funny guy, he was. Also, a very good friend.

PPPS: PPS stands for post-postscript, and PPPS stands for post-post-postscript, though only PPS has somewhat common usage. You’re welcome, again.

PPPPS: OK, I just made up PPPPS. I did not lift that poem in Devanagari font from any website. I typed it myself using Google Transliteration.

Stop Beating Around The Bush. Please.

noreply@blogger.com (sreeyesh) — Sat, 07 Nov 2009 10:52:00 +0000

A lot of people call me up and I know why a lot of people usually call me up. It would be usually for some help. If it is in my capacity, I will help. But please, stop with the inane meaningless formalities. Before you delve into “Mere computer mein virus hai” or “Would you happen to know…?” you don’t have to say,”Yaad aaya, isliye call kiya. Aur bata, tu kaisa hai?” and all the usual 5 minute horsecrap baloney like that. You don’t really mean it. You know you don’t. So it’s pointless. Get to the point. You have called me to ask me something, please ask. All these formalities are actually embarrassing.

It’s also a waste of time. You waste your time as well as mine. No, can you honestly say that you don’t think about formulating the shortest and quickest way to get your work done before you call for help? You do. When it comes to me, the best way is to get straight into the matter. You tell me, I help you, we both can be happy.

So please, stop beating around the bush. You heard it. Get to the point, people. You have not called me up to ask me about my well being. You have not called me to inquire about my happiness. You did not ring me up to talk about the weather. You have called me to help you or to provide you with some information on something for your need. I would be only happy to help, if indeed I am able to. I won’t be thinking about anything else, really. No grudges, unless you’re an old asshole that I know of. But I’d actually be glad that you thought of me when you got stuck at something. I’d be delighted to think that you feel that I can really be of assistance. But when you start asking me about my well being and my daily life to apparently “break the ice” so that I may help you, you insult my intelligence and yourself. If you really think I can be helpful, stop acting to be so thoughtfully awesome with all the shallow ceremonious niceties. If you think you’re being tactful, you’re only being a jackass.

If you really care about me, you’d have called me up for no reason for a chat (there are only a precious few like those). Yes, those occasions are different. We can chat for a long time. But when you start with the seemingly enthusiastic small talk but comprehensively vapid mechanical drivel when you want a favour, it gets really awkward, to be frank. Because in most cases, you and I both know the reason you have called. You and I both know that all this ritualistic foreplay is hollow and absurd. So you may stop it, for your benefit as well as mine. This is an open request. Just a “Hi dude, I need a little help from you.” would really suffice. If you really think of me as a friend, you don’t need to do any formalities. I’d sincerely and genuinely be happy to be of help (if at all I can be).

Disclaimer: I speak for myself. There are actually some assholes out there who do get very offended when you ask them for help without the customary exchange of pleasantries. I’m not like them. You may note that. Also, this post was not intended to be offensive in any way; just me trying to convey some of my feelings. But if you are offended, please feel free to go fuck yourself. :)

Kgnnuumeerrolgiy

noreply@blogger.com (sreeyesh) — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 06:28:00 +0000

Whhaatt? Diid youu fiinnd tthe tiittlee oof thhis pposst sstrranngge? Oor thhe wayy I’mm wwrittng itt? Nno, thhiss iis noott a neww fforrm oof kool SMS liinngo. Itt’s wayy koolerr. For your stupid convenience, I will write like you normal morons do. Why do you find it so strange? Is it because it looks like someone thought “screw the rules of the English language; I’ll make weird words that makes no sense”? Oh yeah? Well then, FUCK YOU! Because this is how I would write from now on, since writing like this is the only way writing could bring me luckk. All thanks to numerology, I mean kgnnuumeerrolgiy. Screw your sense of spellings and pronunciation.

See, this is how it works: The alphabets that make your name are associated with numbers. Those numbers that are already there might not be very good for your fortunes. What do you do? Enter numerology, shit, kgnnuumeerrolgiy. It can help calculate the numbers that can turn your luck around. How? You add or subtract some alphabets and ~~make your name look like it was written by a kindergarten kid so that you can pronounce it like a spastic retard~~ bring good luck, success and joy to your life.

Don’t believe me? Just look at all the über successful stars of Bollywood. Just adding or subtracting some alphabets in their names can change their lives. It brought unimaginable success and wealth, not only to the “actors”, but also to the genius numerologists—who became so much in demand for adding or removing alphabets and deliberately misspell names for a person to entirely change his or her life for good—who can now earn enough money by one little consultation to buy the top end iMac. Hey, they are consultants of life’s fortunes. They really ought to be paid in gold.

Just look at the success stories, you ignorant people. Sunil Shetty became so much more dynamic ever since he became Suniel Shetty. Tusshar Kapoor (that dashing young talent) bagged roles in so many super hit films. Also worth mentioning are the success stories of Eesha Koppikhar, Celina Jaitl y, Emraan Hashmi, and so many more Bollywood elite.

Thanks to numerology, I don’t even have to be concerned of people’s opinions about my acting.

It definitely helped Sonu Niigaam with his acting career. And Aanuu Mallik, bitches! That multi-talented musical composer has only raised the bar for imbeciles like A.R. Rahman after he got his name changed. Other composers are sooo gonna ~~plagiarize~~ be inspired by Aanuu Mallik’s hit compositions.

Yo, biatches! Kgnnuumeerrolgiy is like teh shit! I'm like totally rocking the charts thanks to my new name.

Speaking of Bollywood elite, Ajay Devgan, oops, Devgn has jumped into the kgnnuumeerrolgiy bandwagon and slashed off an A from his surname. When you look at all the string of super hit movies that the master actor has starred in—Golmaal, Golmaal Returns, Cash, Sunday, Ram Gopal Verma Ki Aag (OH MY FUCKING GOD!), All The Best—you actually start to wonder why he really needed to visit a kgnnuumeerrolgisst. The guy was going strong in the first place. But I’m sure knocking an A off his surname so that y’all people can pronounce it like you’ve got Parkinson’s disease can only reach him to new heights of stardom. Amitabh Bachchan and Aamir Khan, you stupid nincompoops, watch and learn how to be successful.

And when it comes to super hit movies, just see the records. Heyy Babyy, Krazzy 4, Kya Kool Hai Hum, Singh Is Kinng, Karzzzzzz (Holy SHIT! What an awesome movie) Shortkut, Do Knot Disturb—all wonderful entertainers, all awesome movies, all super hits, all classy cinema. All thanks to kgnnuumeerrolgiy.

So you see, the only superstition here is that you people don’t believe in the power of misspellings. Don’t you ever fucking think that kgnnuumeerrolgiy is raping the laws of the English language in the ass! I, for one, am contemplating on changing my name to Sshreiyyesshh Vvijayn. I’m going through a bad phase right now, but changing my name really should change my luck. Thank GOD I only write my name in English alphabets and not in Hindi, Malayalam or Cyrillic, because that would have really screwed me up.

PS: Kgnnuumeerrolgiy has other benefits too. It can really save your ass from embarrassment when you don’t know how to spell big words the usual way.

Star gazing and some other things

noreply@blogger.com (sreeyesh) — Thu, 25 Jun 2009 10:42:00 +0000

*Not my image. Found this on Google.

Back to blogging after a long time again. So I don't need to do the ritual explanation of how big a lazy bum I am again now, do I? Yeah, I don't. So another post now. WARNING: The following content could come across as cheesy and pathetic. There will also be unrestrained digression. Reader discretion is advised.

Before I start the blather, a little babble about the background: My boss told me to go to a company in Ahmednagar on Sunday, June 21, as the company had failed to send too many drawings according to schedule and had not given any replies to reminders. So furious, the boss told me to go and "fire them" and to stay there till they've released all drawings. I was livid as well. No, not least because of delayed drawings. The boss was telling me to go on a Sunday when I had so many plans, first which involved my best pals (or animals) Somu and Jimbo staying over at my new home (that's another story), then I had plans to go watch Wolverine, go out and have fun. Sunday is the only holiday I get. And snatching away that holiday is preposterous. A bloody crime! GRRR!

But I agreed to go (if I didn't, the boss would've made an ugly face and regurgitated crap about my excuse forever any time he wanted). The 5 hour journey in the MSRTC shake-machine didn't do much to lift the mood either. 21st June was a Sunday which coincidentally was also the summer solstice–the longest day of the year. Nice way it was to spend the longest day of the year discussing drawing revisions with the company engineers. But I did my job, the company people were friendly and food was satisfying (food is damn important). Didn't get to explore Ahmednagar though (this is the suckiest part of official visits, you don't get to enjoy).

So the inspiration for the drivel here begins now on my return journey. It was more comfortable than the other bus, but the presence of mosquitoes more than made up for the discomfort. There I was sitting in the bus reading The White Tiger by Aravind Adiga (which till now, has been a good read; I haven't finished it yet), munching Piknik (damn good they are, I love this snack), it was around 7:30 pm and they turned off the lights. WTF! The longest day it might have been, but reading was impossible in the light of dusk. I was in an irate mood. So I was just staring out through the bus window, and there I saw it: two bright specks in the almost-dark blue horizon, blurry, but bright enough even for my myopic eyes.

So I put on my glasses and there they were, two really bright stars. And then there was another. *ting!* And another star materialized. *ting!* Some more after a while. *ting!* *ting!* *ting!* Soon enough, the sky was getting more dark and these whole clusters of stars were coming into focus on the moonless, cloudless sky. And then, the entire sky was a canopy littered with bright dots, dense clusters of stars. It was something really, a sight to behold, oddly mesmerizing.

The road was completely dark. There were no lights obstructing the view of the sky, except for the lights from the far spaced villages, the odd Dhabas or oncoming vehicles. There were no streetlights, and for the first time, I was glad that there weren't, and I hope it remains that way; people (people like me at least) should not be derived of the chance for viewing the amazing starry sky like that. Also, I was lucky, it was raining both in Ahmednagar and Mumbai and yet, the sky was cloudless.

I just sat staring at the stars, I don't know for how long. It was indeed enticing. I don't remember seeing such a view (well, maybe in the Nehru Planetarium in Worli I did, but that doesn’t count). It can't happen where I stay in Navi Mumbai because of all the lights of the city that only allow seeing the brightest of the stars. The night sky in my native place in Kerala would be suited for star gazing, but there, you're not allowed to go out at nights, and besides, most of the time I was there, it would've been raining. But there in the bus (I don't know where exactly), if I was not mistaken, I was seeing the Milky Way. I wished that the bus was made of glass so I could've had a 180° view of the sky.

I must have looked stupid staring up to the left out the window. For 2 hours or more probably, I was just gazing up at the stars like a child completely entranced by the sight of something that seemed extraordinary. It got me thinking. It's no wonder that the old time blokes came up with weird theories about the stars and how they could affect the lives of puny people on earth. I was playing joining the dots with the stars and I could see a beach recliner, a wind-mill, a horse, a television, a hot chick with one hand on her hip and one hand waving, and then some other things. The old people back then must have seen some other stuff and decided “Let's call this one a crab, this one a lion, that one a dude with water” and so on. Must have been more convenient, eh? C'mon, who's gonna take an astrologer seriously if they were to say "The person born on the cusp of the hot chick and the beach recliner will..." But I think I can spare those men. Who could blame them? The sight of the stars, like I said, can be very enchanting and can make you feel spellbound. And at those old times, they could not have known that the dots up there were giant balls releasing light and heat by the thermonuclear fusion of hydrogen into helium millions of light years away, could they?

Ah, drifted away again. I was snapped out of my musings by an explosion of light–the bus had entered Pune city and there was suddenly a haze of orange from the street lights. And then I realized my neck was hurting from staring up to my left through the window. By the time it was dark again, the sky was obscured by clouds, and the stars were no longer visible. I didn't know when I fell asleep, but I woke up when the bus had reached and stopped at Panvel and it was 1:00 am. Home was close, and I did not doze off again. Then, I looked out the window and I saw the Navi Mumbai sky with clouds streaked by an orange-yellow. It was neither looking like sunrise nor sunset. The view that I once thought was resplendent no longer seemed very captivating anymore. The clouds in the horizon polluted by city lights seemed oddly grotesque.

But I have decided that sometime later, or hopefully maybe sooner, when I'll have a really good camera, a fast mobile net connection and a car of my own, I'll go on a drive on the same roads on a summer night and gaze at the stars again, for hours maybe. Maybe I'd to take a portable folding bed along too, so I can sleep in the middle of nowhere under the dome of the starry sky. I'd love to do that.

Until the next time I blog, see you (the few ones who're reading this anyway).

PS: I've been told to go to Noida on 26th. I've heard that it is one big polluted city. So expectedly, won’t be seeing the serene sky there.

Stupid hypocrites

noreply@blogger.com (sreeyesh) — Tue, 06 Jan 2009 09:38:00 +0000

Hmmm… It’s been a long time since I’ve blogged. I’m not passionate about blogging. I guess I mentioned that earlier when I blogged. Anyway, engineering studies are over. So is my job hunt. Got a job as trainee electrical engineer in a firm last month (I’m not sure I’m really enjoying my job though).

Anyway, I’m into twittering these days (follow sreeyesh on twitter if you want to listen to my rants and other nonsense). I really like the concept of microblogging. Unlike a blog, there’s not much fuss to jot down things in less than 140 characters. You get the message delivered, and that’s what counts. But the downside is that sometimes, the 140 character restriction can be irritating when you want to really elaborate your thoughts. This is where a blog is essential. But since I’m not much of a brainy guy, I don’t have many thoughts to elaborate; and then I’m lazy too, because of which I don’t take any efforts to “elaborate my tiny thoughts”. So that’s that.

But anyway, today, I had some thoughts, and I decided to slog on my blog. I was reading the Times of India, and there was this article about a group of people protesting the nude depiction of the Hindu god Shiva on canvas by an artist. This is one of those ‘what-the-fuck’ news. I mean really, I don’t understand why these people are really offended. Shiva was drawn nude by an artist (who, coincidentally, and maybe fortunately is a Hindu named Nitai Das), and that apparently didn’t strike a chord with the Hindu Janajagruti Samiti.

The Hindu Janajagruti Samiti (literal translation: Hindu Mass-awakening Association) needs to wake up and look at a bit of reality themselves. Millions of people worship the lingam, that is, the phallic symbol of Lord Shiva every day. For crying out loud, they ask for blessings from a damn penis. The article quotes sources who say that there are “several other manifestations of Shiva that are traditionally shown in the nude”. So are we to understand that according to the Janajagruti Samiti, it is perfectly fine to make phalluses out of rock and concrete and keep it inside a temple to worship, but when the same genitalia in question, belonging to the same deity, is drawn on canvas by an artist who does not happen to be from the year 2 BC, it suddenly should be considered indecent and vulgar? What kind of logic is that?

If sex or the depiction of sex organs is such a touchy subject for these people, why aren’t they doing anything about the blatant sexual depictions made in rock sculptures by the ancestors of this land at places like Khajuraho? I mean if a penis in a painting is so offensive, then the portrayal of the penis actually being put into its best use (and I don’t mean urination), along with a generous accompaniment of large breasts and buttocks on sculptures just cannot be tolerated (and these are in 3d). Why not demolish them?

I just hate hypocrisy. And moral police are of the worst kinds of hypocrites. And even worse is their extreme intolerance and touchiness. You have your morals, be fine with it. You have some beliefs, believe them. You might find it offensive or scandalous when some things are not coinciding with your beliefs or traditions. How about showing a little tolerance and doing some calm reflecting? Just don’t shove your holier-than-thou morality down others’ throats, as there are people who are actually very offended and disgusted by you people and your antics. When you’re forcing people to follow you, it just doesn’t fucking work.

----

Oh, I almost forgot: Happy New Year!

noreply@blogger.com (sreeyesh) — Mon, 08 Dec 2008 04:31:00 +0000

I really HATE wearing formal clothes.

Your name on the moon.

noreply@blogger.com (sreeyesh) — Fri, 13 Jun 2008 16:12:00 +0000

Hehehe... I found this out surfing through the net...

So maybe you may not be able to take a flight to outer space in your lifetime, and setting your foot on the moon will be out of the question all together. So what? How about getting your name on the moon? NASA is giving everyone an opportunity to go to the moon, at least all your names. NASA will send your name to the moon as an 'appreciation of your support', as they're saying on the website. The payload is not going to increase with names anyway. They'll be putting the names on a chip and sending it to the moon onboard the Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter, NASA's next big moon mission.

So what are you waiting for? Head over to this site and register your name. Let it go places, let it go to the moon!

Oh and by the way, you can gather "more support" for the mission by registering the names of your friends and loved ones.

If you want to know more, read on here. No, this is not a joke. Read NASA's press release.

Bachelorhood after four years

noreply@blogger.com (sreeyesh) — Sat, 07 Jun 2008 10:00:00 +0000

Hmmm… Its been a long time since I made a post here. It was laziness of course, there were many occasions when I felt I could’ve made a good blog post, but I procrastinated and then I never got down to do the job. Seems like blogging isn’t exactly something I’m passionate about. But I think I can make a rant and a few cribs now.

5th of June 2008, it was the day that I gave the last exam in by Bachelor of Electrical Engineering course. Was I happy? Maybe. Was I sad? Yeah. But was it because of the nostalgia and the thought of saying goodbye to the institution where I studied for four years? Definitely not. The four years were definitely not the typical college years that I had expected. It wasn’t exactly fun. And the fact that we didn’t have any good teachers in the college only added to the agony. It was exactly due to these reasons that I was not very about the end of my college life.

The memories that I could take back with me would be the few and far between events which were not really connected to the college. I’m sure most of the people who study in college would have really looked forward to a trip somewhere with the class. No such event materialized in my four years. Plans were made only to be cancelled. I’m just about glad that the four of us who were teamed together to make the final year project agreed and went to Goa for a few days. We went during the college festival, and I have no regrets of missing the event (not surprisingly, the festival turned out to be a huge damp squib). Thankfully, the Goa trip would be one thing that happened towards the end of the four years that I would not immediately forget.

What did I learn in college? Nothing much except perhaps what many engineering students would actually have already learnt: learn everything yourself. The text book is your best friend (sometimes because the text books helps the brighter ones who could later help you). Your other best friend is the Xerox machine, without which studying engineering would be impossible. Teachers are just a formality (maybe except the odd ones who actually knew what they were teaching). We didn’t have any teachers for some subjects. Others were horrible. The ones who could actually teach and who actually were passionate about teaching left when I joined the college. Seniors told me about those legendary people who commanded respect from students. Alas, I wasn’t fortunate to meet them. The only one good professor who was remained left the college when I was in the 3rd year.

The project is another thing that I have close to my heart. Four guys who were totally different from each other were teamed up. The situations leading to the formation of the group would make an interesting story, but I don’t feel it’s a topic to be blogged. Still, I really couldn't have asked for better guys on the team. At least our thought frequencies were in phase. At least something good happened, and these guys are now good friends of mine We made a project on renewable energy (using a wind generator). I’m really proud of it, because we made it on our own. While some people did their project in some company, most guys in the class didn’t make their project at all. It was outsourced to be done by someone else (like ghost writing). Just give money to the project-maker, and present your stuff in the end. I’m sure most of the engineering students reading this would know what I’m talking about. But we had absolutely no help for our project. We knew the risks involved, we knew not many would be able to help us, but we got through in the end (a special thanks to our guide who appreciated our work and supported us).

Other than that, I really don’t know how the four years went past. It seems it was just yesterday that the Principal of the college was chomping on cucumber when my friend and I went to meet him to inquire about the admission procedure. It sure was quick it seems. But there was no emotional attachment to the college. It wasn’t like leaving school where I felt I was leaving a part of my life behind.

Ah well, life goes on. Now I have to think of what to do next.

The Still Spot

noreply@blogger.com (sreeyesh) — Sun, 18 Feb 2007 13:44:00 +0000

Well, The Still Spot is the name of my new photoblog. Yeah yeah...I know what everyone might be thinking, that I'm nutz to open a new blog when I don't seem to give any attention to this one here. But, I've explained the reasons of my compulsion there...check it out.

Blast!

noreply@blogger.com (sreeyesh) — Wed, 12 Jul 2006 20:20:00 +0000

It just wasn’t one of my usual days, and I don’t mean it was a good day. Well, I might have just escaped death yesterday. Who knew what could’ve happened!?

Well, to start off, I had decided to accompany my friend Kishor to Andheri to get his new Seagate hard-disk replaced (it wasn’t getting detected on anyone’s PC whatsoever). Well, I’ve never been to Andheri by myself and neither had Kishor. We had decided to set off at 9 AM, but as I had predicted, I overslept as usual and thought I might have again made things late. (But I came to know later that Kishor Da had slept more than me.)

Anyway, we were waiting for the bus at 11 AM and from nowhere this stupid auto-rickshaw driver came from the wrong side of the road and splashed mud on our pants. After a few abuses that were only heard by the bystanders (the rickshaw-walla obviously didn’t wait to hear anything), we boarded a bus for Dadar and reached there by 12:30. After reaching the Dadar railway station, we spent a fair amount of time switching platforms and we had to ask a few people there about how to get to Andheri since we knew nothing. And we reached Andheri by 1:45.

At Andheri, we were facing a familiar problem with the address. No rickshaw wallas or taxi drivers knew anything on how to get to the Seagate place. No one knew where the TNT Cargo building was, or the Pizza Hut opposite to which it was located and we decided to wander around. We tried our luck with the locals and one good man directed us to the Pizza Hut.

We got a temporary relief from the heat when we reached our destination and gratefully let the customers ahead of us sort out the matters with their own hard-disks while we gave a much needed rest to our rumps on the sofa. When our turn came, we came to know that we’ll have to go to the place again, since the replacement will only arrive on Friday. (Aaaarrrgh!)

Kishor Da suggested that we catch a movie and I agreed. So we reached Cinemax to find out that only Krrish was showing and that we had arrived 10 minutes late. I wasn’t really wanting to go and watch Krrish (I had thought of watching Corporate), but then went on anyway. We were treated to Hrithik Roshan showing the finger to Sir Isaac Newton, the laws of mechanics as well as common sense. I was really amused at the antics and Kishor Da was wondering why I was laughing. (Ah well, its cinema and the policy was: NO QUESTIONS TO BE ASKED and as my friend Sreehari said, Krrish is a baby in front of the great Rajnikant, and Rajnikant was supposedly a mere human...hehe). I started wondering how much extra moolah Daddy Roshan got with the endorsements (let me see…Tide, Vicks, Bournvita, Samsung, Lays, Hero-Honda and maybe some more I may have missed).

Ah well, the show(off) got over near 6 pm and we decided to head back home. We reached the station and on the foot-over we saw people gathered around on one side – all watching the stopped train below. Upon enquiring, someone said something about a bomb explosion on the train. Well, it didn’t seem anything was wrong and we decided to wait and watch. Then the word was spreading that there had indeed been a blast somewhere, maybe Jogeshwari, a few stations from Andheri. And then we came to know that the trains were all cancelled.

But the people had to be applauded here. I saw no panic anywhere. Everyone was acting cool and logically, in spite of the serious situation. We got out of the station and decided to ask some rickshaw-wallas to get us some place to catch a bus to Vashi. But none of them were cooperative or they didn’t seem to know any such place. Seeing that we were virtually stuck at Andheri, we decided to get to Kurla by bus. The bus arrived and people started to rush inside in a panicky frenzy. No, it was not due to any panic at the explosions, it was because of an even deeper fear of someone else occupying an empty seat (I guess some things will never change in Mumbikars). And by pure luck, we too managed to find seats, although, I received a sharp blow on my back in the hustle and bustle (my back is still aching).

In the meanwhile, through a phone call from Kishor’s sister, I came to know that mom had somehow got to know of the explosions and was apparently trying to contact me. I was trying to call mom but couldn’t reach her. it seemed all mobile networks were being overloaded with calls and I might have been lucky to just make a little call. I presumed mom might have been a bit worried and I was lucky that I could SMS by best friend Somu to inform my mom that we were OK. But it seemed he was worried himself, since he called me back barely a minute later. Since I could make no phone calls, I SMSed dad too (to my relief, he was really calm when he called me some time later).

But man, the traffic was killing. The bus moved at a snail’s pace. We were all sweating inside, and the only time-pass was small talk with the co-passengers, their opinions on the blasts, etc. We reached Kurla at about 8:15 pm, more than an hour since we boarded. The taxi ride home was worse. We had to get through the police nakabandi, and it consumed more time. While we did watch Rang De Basanti (yet again) on my iPod, the slow pace and the driver’s smoking weren’t helping us feel any better. Meanwhile dad called and told us he would come and pick us up at Nerul since there was a nakabandi at Kalamboli too and we’d have to take a detour if we were to make it home anytime before midnight.

And we reached home at 11 pm. Immediately, I switched on the news and what I saw and heard was indeed saddening. Serial bombing: Eight explosions within a span of about half an hour. The compartments were disfigured by the blasts. The sight of those suffering was indeed heart wrenching. Reflecting back, I just sort of thought, we might just as well have been in one of the ill fated trains. Life could really be cut short man (I might as well enjoy eating all the chocolates and ice creams before my life gets cut short).

But I was starting to feel angry at the cause of it all: Religion. Sure people might say no religion professes violence (even though i beg to differ), but it sure is the cause of all violence like these. Its the disagreements that is the root cause of it all. For someone belonging to some religion, his religion is the holiest and most correct, while the other religions are wrong. And he fails to see similar sentiments of opposing polarity reflected by the non-believer with respect to him.

One more thing that angers me is that many political parties are going to have a field-day. They'll be the ones taking full advantage of this disaster, what with making more promises and assurances and name-calling to blaming the opposition for the mishap. In a way, they are the most dangerous people here, since they can incite otherwise peaceful people to commit violent acts.

Ah well....that's enough blabbing for now....it was an eventful day, and I just thought I could blog it all, so here it is.

Man what a relief

noreply@blogger.com (sreeyesh) — Thu, 15 Jun 2006 21:18:00 +0000

Finally my exams are over and I'll (hopefully) get into the 3rd year. Its such a rush I tell ya...Its been indeed a gruelling four long weeks of exams...The gaps between exams were good, but boring and unbearable...And now I feel so free, man I'm so light I could just fly...Yeah yeah, I know I'm being hyperbolic here, but heck, who cares, I surely don't. Although this feeling of elation isn't gonna last too long, (heck I'm gonna be bored stupid in a few days), but it feels pretty good now...even though the freedom is just so temporary...

So no more engineering books for me for some time now....I'm just gonna try to enjoy my life for a month...Afterall, I'm just too tired of cribbing about more KTs, how the system sucks and low marks that I'm gonna be getting (not to mention low self esteem at the results).

And yeah, maybe if I feel not too lazy, I might come and type nonsense here again in some time...

Until next time....WOPANG!!!

WOPANG!!!

noreply@blogger.com (sreeyesh) — Sun, 12 Feb 2006 14:12:00 +0000

OK, so this I think may be worthwhile.

WOPANG!!!
Sounds funny?? Or does it sound the sort of slap-stick onomatopoeia used in cartoons?? Or does it sound like it rhymes with the catchphrase of a heath supplement? Yeah well, it is a bit funny. From a proper name, it has become a greeting word in late night Yahoo! conferences which I attend (to be specific, its just conferences which are started by my online friends who I know from the thinkdigit.com forum)...OK, I have to admit, I think I'm the only person who greets the others with this word and I don't know if others do use the word to greet others with it too, but I know for certain that they sure enough use it to greet me when I enter the conference.

So, yesterday my good friend who uses the nom de guerre digen suggested another of my very good friend with the nom de guerre it_waaznt_me to write about the background of WOPANG!!! in his blog. But as the sole propagator of WOPANG!!! I thought it was my moral right to blog it myself. (Besides, I don't want to look like a real super slob putting up my blog here for nothing, there has to be some nonsense to fill up the space here).

[[going a bit off topic]]
First of all a little bit of background about it_waaznt_me. OK, I have to admit, I have absolutely no idea what_waaznt_him, or who_waaznt_him, or why he put up an identification that slaps the English vocabulary in the face, but he's a real cool guy, whose real name is Shahab Jafri. He maintains a blog, and it seems like his life's goal now is to achieve a pagerank of 10 for his website (Carry on bat! I know you can do it!!). Unlike me, he writes somewhat serious stuff in his blog. He is immensely fond of Batman and has put up pictures of the Dark Knight as his avatar in numerous forums. So, he's popularly known as batman (Yeah right! He ain't no Bruce Wayne or his alter ego from miles), but i call him just bat, or big fat bat, or dingbat (you know, I had made a few new poems from old nursery rhymes "dedicated to the bat", but mentioning them would be going really off track here). Still, as I said, he's a real nice guy and really helps others (me included) with solutions to a lot with computer problems (:sob sob:). And if he_waaznt_there, there wouldn't've been WOPANG!!!
[[off topic talk ended here]]

So, back to WOPANG!!!
It all started in a Y! conference about two years ago. Back then, there was a good old friend known as just JAK (I don't know where he has disappeared now). We were all bugging each other to reveal their identities and show us their photos so we can know what they look like (our Bat still didn't reveal himself back then, and I don't know if he would have ever if I hadn't bugged him for what seemed like eternity. Oh man!). So, JAK showed us some of his pics. He had labelled the names on the photos indicating his friends. In one of them, there was a cute north-eastern girl who, to all of our astoundment, had the unusual and impactful name Wopang. Oh we were all amused alright, but bat seemed to have a crush on her as he said he thought she was (extra) cute and that he liked her. And that, was the point of no turning back. (I must say, that was one of the most hilarious conferences I've ever been on, and those who were in it, would still remember it and smile, and those who weren't, you guys missed one hell of a roller coaster conference.)

After that, bat was teased left and right about his crush everytime he came online (especially by yours truly). Everytime he entered a conference, he would be greeted by the impactful word WOPANG!!! It has now become a mark in his online life that he can't remove whatsoever (thanks to me ofcourse). But WOPANG!!! was diversified and it was started to be used as a general greeting word (replacing clichéd greet words like Hi!, Hello, Howdy, et al) in conferences (this, again, was primarily done by me).

Naturally, new people who were invited to join our confs were curious about this unfamiliar word WOPANG!!! I had to explain it to them a fair few times. And it was a similar situation that prompted digen to ask bat to blog about WOPANG!!! yesterday, and it was consequentially blogged about by me. So from now on, batman (or anyone else for that matter) can direct curious newbies who want to know the history of WOPANG!!! to this page.

Phew!!....man did I slog or what to write this.

PS: If u're reading this bat, and i know u will, maybe next time, i can write about Saha ;) >:)
And if u want, u can link this page in in your website (Hey, who knows, maybe my pagerank can get a boost :P)

hmmm...???

noreply@blogger.com (sreeyesh) — Sat, 11 Feb 2006 23:00:00 +0000

yaaaawwwnnnn....
so i decided to get started anyway...i had registered at blogger sometime way back last year...and now i decide to just write up some crap...
i'm just too lazy to blog anyway...i think i have to slog it out to type, the super slob that i am...so this is just a testing of sorts...and besides, i'm just copy-pasting this from my old blog...u see...i wanted it to be something different rather than [myname+surname].blogspot.com...so now its slobspot.blogspot.com...hurray!

anyway, if i do find that i have some stupid stuff in my mind(?!) that i feel that i should or could share, i may start slogging on my slob blog...

later...