Dec 16, 2009

“It’s College Life”

The title of this post is in quotes. It was my wing’s favorite excuse-phrase, used after doing a questionable act. 2nd position was bagged by the phrase “Come On” (with lots of Os in “On”). These were the 2 axioms which laid the foundation pebble of our so-called wing, A-7.

The group was an uncanny mix of non-nerds. Each had a knack or two. With complimentarily contrasting knacks, each group meeting used to be a laughter marathon. Together, we decibled the hostel off the charts. Character assassination and barbaric rules built our constitution. The only criterion of decision-making was Majority - to hell with logic. Early movers disadvantage was a secret known by a few.

There were 10-11 prominent legislators, who played all the mind games to gain the coveted Majority on a day-to-day basis. Every act, every spoken word by every wing mate was counted, analyzed and memorized for possible future assassinations. Any self-proclaim or an intelligent point was replied with a plain phrase: “Bol diye hain”. It means shut-up - you can’t bring any good.

Academics was always considered as a topic of discussion, rarely as things-to-do. Our academic year had 2 semesters. Each Semester had 2 main exams, Mid-sems and End-sems. Rest were quizzes, which rested in peace. The Mid-sems and End-sems were the 2 events when we used to drool over xeroxes of toppers’ notes. The act of waking anyone up during exams was discouraged by others. A mischievous grin used to accompany - “Sone de yaar usko, thak gaya hoga wo”. In short, the one who tried to be friendly became the next-in-line for a “friendly” lesson.

Attendance was a number and probability game. It’s all about how many wing-mates have lower attendance that you. If even one of them is drowning below, it’s okay. The first class used to be at 8:30 am, followed by 3 more till 12:30. The vision used to be the 8:30 class, the purpose - 9:30 class, the aim – 10:30 class and the result – 11:30. Sometimes the 2 axioms used to justify being late for the 11:30 class. After all, “Come Ooon”, “It’s College Life”.

Have you ever taken lifts from auto-wallahs? .. cheated Banks? .. burnt notice boards?. Well! Nothing to be proud of - you may say, but these were touted as achievements by Majority, hence all. Being brief, this was A-7, which sadly denotes that it’s 7th floor of A-block of our hostel. Yeah, we were too lazy to name our so-called wing properly, but what can one do when the only 3 suggestions were: “Eagles”, “Fuelz” and “Kaminey”.


The legislators: Manav, Siddhu, Anshul, Saxi, Tau, Dippi, Maeta, GP, Santo, Chummi and myself. Trust me, the order of names in this list will also be noted down for my next assassination :)


PS: I was being sarcastic in the post. The truth is that I feel privileged to be a part of the most outrageous, hilarious and Machaxx group ever at IIT-Bombay ..


Nov 19, 2009

My Cricket Teams - 2009

Sadly, not getting much time to write these days ... anyways check out my cricket teams and add/edit/comment:


1) Gambhir
2) Ponting (c)
3) Dravid
4) Sachin
5) M. Hussey
6) Kallis
7) Dhoni (w/k)
8) Vettori
9) Murali
10) Umar Gul
11) P. Siddle


1) Sachin
2) Watson
3) Dilshan
4) De Villiers
5) Dhoni (c, w/k)
6) Kallis
7) N. Hauritz
8) Vettori
9) Kyle Mills
10) Steyn
11) Mohd. Aamer


1) Dilshan (w/k)
2) Gayle
3) Kallis
4) Yuvraj
5) Duminy
6) Watson
7) Afridi
8) Razzaq
9) Vettori (c)
10) Nannes
11) Mendis

Kallis features in all my teams .. finally he gets his long overdue fame :)

Nov 13, 2009

Indian kid's Google Doodle!

Indian kid's design to greet world on Google on Nov 14. The design is incorporated on the world-renowned search engine's logo.

What an achievement for the kid! .. check out :)


Nov 5, 2009

Ravindra Jaded Jadeja

Just wrote this while watching the match .. not a BLOG blog :) ..

India has over 60 years of independence and over 20 years of dependence - Sachin!

So! .. It's India chasing 350. Nail biting match. Sachin goes berserk. Hits a fifty. Sehwag did a little blitzkrieg.

Oh! and the second wicket fell. Tense situation. India sad. Revital guys happy. Yuvi is the man in. Hits boundary. Over ends. Revital Advertisement. Yuvi says Jeeyo Jee Bhar Ke. Next over. Yuvi out, goes back. Pops the pill.

Sachin still berserking. Hits a ton. MRF sad. Adidas happy.

Dhoni in. Dhoni out. Bhajji in. Bhajji out.

Enters Ravindra Jadeja, the pop-eye. Hits a four, Indians amused. Punches Sachin, injury averted. Keeps strike. Powerplay on. Keeps strike. Powerplay on. Keeps strike. Indians abused. Sachin out of flow. Sachin out.

Praveen Kumar in. Hits a six. Fire in the eye. Jadeja still there, pops the eye. Wants strike. Jadeja out. Indians abused.

Nehra in. Indians pick the remote. Lofts 54 meters. Indians throw the remote. Nehra out. Nehra amused. Indians abused.

Oct 21, 2009

Indian Train Journey

One train journey in India gives you a 360 degree experience of life. Apart from reaching your destination, you chat, criticize, empathize and play.

The people: There are 4 categories: The Sleeper, AC & General class travelers and the by passers.

By-passers are the most fun. “Original” is their favorite word. Everything they sell is a value for money, they say. You really can’t argue on value when in 10 Rs. he offers a packet with: 1 Scissor + 1 Scale + 1 Pen + 1 Key chain + 1 Eraser + 1 Diary. None of it is Made in China. Can you argue now? You can only ask why give an eraser with a pen? Their “original” products range from sweets, fruits, snacks, tea (always “special”), lighters, newspapers, books to torches. One stand out product is the multi-feature balm - looks like grease and can cure cold, cough, arthritis, backache, headache and impotency!

The other form of by-passers includes regular beggars who tap emotional pockets, smart beggars who clean your clean floor to tap “intelligent” pockets and the Eunuchs who touch you intelligently at emotional places.

The sleeper class people are over-friendly. They love to bargain with the by-passers, who curse them for this habit. They always demand a couple of extra Bananas on a dozen. They will then break the ice with you by offering you those extra Bananas. You say NO and they insist. Then you gain freakish insights on Indian politics, culture, cricket & economy while gulping those cursed Bananas. At the end of journey you will get to hear “If you ever come to XYZ city, do give me a call, I can help you with anything”.

Most of the AC travellers have switched to AC from the Sleeper class only. As a transformative result, they pretend to be over-aloof. They will speak loudly on the phone to let you know how rich/smart/educated they are. Breaking the ice is an ego issue here. You will probably end up in a debate after the ice is broken. The topics are still the same: Politics, culture, cricket & economy. The General class is well explained by Mr. Shashi Tharoor, so I won’t dig in to it.

The service: Other than Rajdhani, their food is a delicate garbage platter. The mutter-paneer has 1 paneer and 2 mutter. The name of the dish has both singular words, you should be happy you get an extra mutter. Dal has 6 -7 visible units of lentil (for protein) and 1 coriander leaf (for Iron), with lots of water (to prevent dehydration). The Roti is Sun-dried to give you less fat. The Rice is thick with a hint of light orangish carrot. Tea is made by dipping a heater rod (I have seen the pictures) in the water-milk mixture (80-20).

The test: Just when you start relaxing, enters the TC - Ticket Collector (Vital statistics: 36-48-36). I wonder how most of them have moustaches. Apart from the moustache, they carry a huge list of names and a metallic pen. With head down, spectacles about to drop from the nose, he looks up to you. He makes a claw, raises eye-brows and points the metallic pen towards you. This subtle gesture implies you need to show your ticket to him and that he is well educated man with dignity, not a beggar. He makes you feel dubious - “Man, what if I have lost my ticket?”

The sports: I am very fond of the part that connects 2 bogies. It’s like a free ride. Put one foot each on the two overlapping plates and you will either enjoy or get scared, kinda like rides. The one thing I don’t like about this place is the stench – toilets on either side. The toilets are Gaming Zones, only the Desi ones though. You have to manage between the train acceleration & lateral movements and your position & pressure. The only life-line to help you is a questionable handle with a thousand splendid fingerprints!!!


Oct 16, 2009


Jokowhich is an astonishing name. This guy, it seems, has a problem with the world. He carries the world in his pocket, he claims. The pocket is in his socks, he tells later.

It’s one thing to get a negative or opposite reply, it’s another to get an answer which makes you pull your eye-brows out. Why eye-brows you would ask? NCQP - No cross questions please. I learnt this from Jokowhich.

Let’s take a take on his takes:

Q: Who are you?

A: I’m the Joke which laughs on you. NCQP

Q: When were you born?

A: Somebody gave me a spank. That was the last time a guy spanked me. NCQP

Q: Which Joke made you famous?

A: That I carry my socks in my pocket. NCQP

Q: That was a PJ. Are these your true colours?

A: It’s colors. NCQP

Q: Okay do you know all colors? What about Mauve?

A: That doesn’t sound like a colour. That sounds like a Cow. NCQP

(Q: “You just said colour”. A: “No, I said color”)

Q: Okay, let’s change the subject. What’s your Rashee?

A: You didn’t change the subject. You still want to know when I was born. Change the subject. NCQP.

Q (irritated): Why are you so irritating?

A: That’s why. NCQP.

Q (smiling): Why are you so irritating?

A: I said NCQP. NCQP!


PS: This one's for those who felt my blog was getting less weird :P

Oct 5, 2009

One Day Cricket, One Day!

If you ask me what i love the most about One-Day cricket, i would say the first and the last 10 overs. Basically a the subset of One-Day cricket, those 20 overs. When you remove the in between 30 (sorry@Rahul Dravid), there's your product: T-20 format.

Where else do you get to see funny shots, huge run rates, loads of sixes and cheerleaders!. It's an energetic party. When it started, some feared that One-Day cricket will have to fight for food. Within a few years, T-20 has beaten One-Day format inside-out, putting up a BIG question on its survival. Caught and Bowled!

What holds up a certain format of the game? The fundamental question here is what exactly does Cricket offers us. The classic form and the evolved forms have offered us a display of technique and speed. Test format predominantly offered us technique and class. One-Day offered us a relatively higher fraction of speed, yet giving technique due importance. Now we have T-20, which is predominantly speed.

When One-Day cricket started, some feared that it will eat up the Test form. It couldn't, because Test is a sheer display of what's the heart of Cricket, the technique. Do I want to see some classy centuries and consistent A grade bowling? Yes I do. Now, we have the sheer display of speed in our hands, the T-20 format. Do I want to see nail biting and high paced cricket? Yes I do.

Sachin recently said that we need to protect the One-Day format. He suggested to split the 50 overs in to 2 innings of 25 overs each, where each team plays its innings alternately. He explained why the splitting was important but did not stress on why to save the format? ... fear of losing all the records?

Do I need a "Test T-25"? Not sure.

Sep 23, 2009

Autorickshawsum-2 | A re-take

Previous post: Autorickshawsum

Let's kick the sequel off with a pic i recently clicked.

What you noticed: the vacant seat (1 ft. x 1.5 ft approx :)). What you missed: his neck. He was talking to a fellow autowallah on his right while driving. I was holding my breath as they ignored the traffic and kept cracking jokes for 45 seconds. "My previous auto's vehicle no. was 'MNS 420' ", he said & they laughed. When his friend left, he told me that he likes to talk a lot. "Do you know the word 'recession' (which he pronounced perfectly), what is the meaning?", he asked. Who doesn't, i thought. I explained him the meaning.

He didn't give me much time to wonder about his English speaking abilities. "I like South-Indians and IITans in my machine", he said, bending his neck 150 degrees back. Oh! - the English and Ah! - the recession, i thought and smiled. "They help me learn English and keep me up to date with the latest", he said. I am confident that he didn't know the word "respectively".

IITans love to create situations where they can tell people that they are IITans. Trust me, it could be as small as exchanging email IDs with someone, where they can say "". I had the time and the situation given, but i let go the desire. The guy didn't know about Swine Flu, but asked about Freida Pinto. "Latest", i smirked. I thanked myself for my desire dump.

After a while, he adjusted his overhead mirror and saw me yawning. He laughed and turned on the Bollywood music. I also laughed and told him that i like his type of autowallas. I teased him on his style of sitting. He moved to the center of the seat while pulling one of his legs up to change the sitting style; notice:

I refrained from commenting more on his style. He took the benefit of my fondness for him and kept chattering. "That shattered building in front of the Domestic Airport is Dawood's, that's why these govt. officials have not demolished it completely yet. They fear him", he said. "Even these big restaurants serve dangerous chicken. They purchase cheap raw meat from shops which sell naturally died animals' meat", he added. I know a lot of weird stuff about Mumbai because of these chatterboxes. Not sure about the reliability though.

After a 1/2 hour journey, i got down. I gave him Rs. 80 worth notes and a Rs. 5 coin. He tucked the notes in his pocket but rubbed the coin on the meter before keeping it in. I waved my eyebrow inquisitively. He winked and said "I want to turn this meter in to a magnet, so it can attract more coins. A 5 Rs. coin is a 'Vada Pav lunch' for me after all". I laughed, touched the meter and asked if this magnet theory was given to him by some IITan. "No, it's my belief", he said and asked me to remove my hand from the meter. I obeyed. "Don't touch me", it read !!!

Sep 12, 2009

yoU Pee on the Elephant

My name is Aamir. I am a daily wager. I belong to a neglected caste. I am a farmer by profession and an artist by heart. I love to carve stones. It's less profitable than farming, but it hasn't rained well this year. I got to know about a work opportunity at a nearby state's capital. So, I thought that instead of earning less money from farming, why not tap money by doing something I like.

They had given me the pictures to be carved on stone, but with strict instructions about the facial expressions. I am creative and I would have loved to carve the expressions on my own. With no choice, I planned to apply my brains over the legs, dress, hairs, hands and fingers. Just before lunch, I finished one of the hands. I carved the fingers and the thumb too. The pictures they gave me featured a politician with index finger pointing outwards, which according to them signified vision, growth and leadership. The statue however is meant to give a different overall message, my friends told me. It’s all a political gimmick, they said. I second my friends on their thoughts about the leader. I never really came to know about the achievements of this leader. Yes, I heard about the wins and laurels, but I never got to know about the benefits which were promised, the benefits which were claimed specially for my caste.

My father used to tell me that the word "Aamir" means "a leader"; i felt it was time for me to be an "Aamir". I took my frustration out, I carved out my revenge from this slave job and dictatorship. I did hammer the finger out, but with a small alteration. It was not the index finger, it was the one next to index. I know the stupid officers and the blind voters will not notice the change in the finger anyways.

The officer visited the next day. He looked a little worried and hurried. "Stop the work, you have to leave the garden before evening", he said. "6 hours" was the deadline he gave to me and my colleagues to leave the place. Some court took the decision to stop the work within 6 hours. "May be the finger pointed towards that court; some supreme ego must have got hurt", I thought and laughed vehemently.

Well, I lost both the earning options. But trust me, I am not sad. I prevented an extra Elephanta caves after all. I would rather carve my own picture back home now, with my "inked" index finger taming a powerful elephant! .. Ha! ..

taken from:


Check out:

Aug 31, 2009

Energy conVERSation

We keep using phrases like "negative energy". Does that mean energy has a direction? Certainly not. In materialistic context it doesn't make sense. There we just talk about conservation and conversion of energy in various forms.

When used in human context, it’s a physical label relying on past experiences and intuition resulting from semi-illusive societal knowledge. One form of energy, which considers itself +ve, labels the other form -ve.


Happiness, partly independent of energy, was spread across the volume. Its 8 pm - dinner time. The +ves in the electric train were getting charged up.

The -ve energy entered the zone; it tried to restrain itself from reacting. It settled down immediately and stored itself quietly. It’s looking for the right time, the time when positivities hibernate and negativities flourish. The time when Sun sets completely and stars come out all proudly to hint their coded maps and disguised armors like polar bears and hunters.

It was 12 am, and there hissed the Black. As you know, black does not reflect anything. It only absorbs. It gets warmer and warmer, even in front of the Sun. Black smiled and showed its metal nail teeth. Its eye balls looked like ball bearings. It was lean with red veins coming out of its black flesh. There were no arteries, just the veins, with stagnant black blood.

The -ve energy which carried the Black had lived purposefully with others -ves, adding up with similar energies to make bigger Blacks. It refrained itself from +ves, for days, for years, to grow big and to run away from its own hidden +ve energy. For long, it lived away secretly. Now, it has personified as the human form of Black, the -ve human.

He stayed there for 4 hours, waiting for the bridge. Leaning from the train door, he looked up. He grinned at the shiny crescent, frowned at the hunter and jumped in to the river. While in the air, he pushed a button; a button that disintegrated his soul. Black got its omen. With 10 small sound energy packets, it sent a huge 11th, accompanying other forms of energy like heat and light. Its eyes targeted real eyes, teeth searched for real bones and the black flesh burned up the real flesh. The +ves rubbed with the -ves to give a zero. Silence.


Aug 23, 2009

My name is K-K-K-Khan | Shahrukh Khan

A 4000 cc sedan got towed. "Shahrukh Khan detained at Newark airport". 48 hours worth news platter for Indian Media. Over 5000 articles all over the world in 2 days.
My picks:

Rajiv Shukla (Congress): "When they allowed him to use his cell, I was the first person he called. Then i just called the US officials and sorted things out." .. ehh? Rajiv? .... Gandhi?

Ambika Soni: "We will do the same to their people".. mam, we couldn't even protect our honourable ex-President Kalam from getting frisked by them, in India!!

Mandvi to Jon Stewart (on their show): "This is Khan .. you don't know who you are dealing with. He is the Shia LaBeouf of Mumbai, the dude from Twilight of Calcutta, Hugh Jackman of Jaipur and Bruce Wills of Delhi." .. who are you? Jacky Bhagnani of Tampa?

Daler Mehndi: "This is very bad. This should not happen to celebrities like us".. us? bolo ta-ra- ra-ra

Shahrukh appeared on CNN-IBN wih Rajdeep Sardesai. Naturally, it was time for TIMES NOW to pull up their socks. They invited Salman on "Frankly Speaking", a show hosted by Arnab Question Bank Goswami.

Here's Shahrukh, after Rajdeep Sardesai (CNN-IBN) tried to dig his unspoken emotions out:

Shahrukh Khan (Obama in disguise): "I don't like visting A; not because it targets B, but because sometimes "small" things like C cause disappointment. I don't mind the D, although as a "human being" i feel it's a "little" E. It's a "system" "we" created, a system we chose to live in. I "respect" the system and therefore i "deeply believe" that i would definitely go there again, whenever required." What the F?

On TIMES NOW, Arnab first labeled Shahrukh a diplomat because he did not speak frankly on CNN-IBN, then he fake-praised Salman for his enormous fan following. Here's Salman, after having told by the Question Bank that he is intrinsically humble.

Arnab (ashamed while asking the cheap question): "If you, you know, went to US, then, what would you, i mean ... "
Salman (bursts in to laughter): "Ha ha ha ...". "See, i think this issue is an important lesson. It's no big deal. It happens everywhere. I used to wear shorts to avoid any rigorous checking. They check you when you are suited-up and "behave" like you are someone big and popular." .. said the "Wanted" star and brother of big and popular Arbaaz Khan and Sohail Khan

Publicity Gimmick?.. Yes! .. but by whom?

Aug 11, 2009


Mumbai auto rickshaw is like a rap song; Dirty, Dhinch & Up-front. It looks like a black pig with a light emitting nose, as "breathtaking" as Asthma. The body is invariably curvaceous, denty & torn. Interiors sport shiny CDs, national flag stickers and tattoos ranging from "Aum" to "786". The leg space is directly proportional to the length of your thigh bone. The proportionality constant, however, is 1. The best part is the multi-billion dollar patented suspension system which protects you from having weak joints. The driver of course is a rapper who rides the song.

Coming to the rappers. There are 2 categories: locals and UPBs (U.P & Bihar). I found that they are 2 completely different breed. The former is quiet, un-interested and flaunts pride and honesty; read 'all boring'. The latter breed is more like my kind of rapper. I love em. Recently, i got a chance to chat-up with a few of the UPBs and what's written below is meant for them.

UPBs have a moderate IQ. Their knowledge about people and relationships is solid. When they stop at signals or get stuck in traffic, they utilize time by cleaning the auto. They normally use sand with water to clean the mirror. However, tobacco with water is the best cleaning mixture!. Apparently, it avoids water drops sticking to the mirror.

They hate 2 things: BEST, their business rival and all women drivers. According to them, BEST is like nicotine, a life-taking lifeline. Women drivers give them obvious and plenty reasons to hate. A few of their everyday comments: "Who gives them the license?", "Look, she is checking herself out in the mirror", "Damn, she took turn opposite to her indicator" .. and so on. I think all men will Roger That. May be women tell you to go on the side where indicator is blinking, that's why it's called "indicator", for YOU!!.

I encountered a bindaas rapper recently who gave me a very entertaining company from Powai to Vile Parle. Slim, dark, long hairs and a heart & arrow tattoo on left hand. Waist was around 26, so was his age. He said being slim is cool among men of his league. Opposite goes for the throttle grip. The number of grips on the accelerator is a status quotient. The fatter it is, the duder the rapper. He had a peculiar style of sitting. The dimensions of the pilot seat were 2.5ft. X 1.5ft. He sat only on the leftmost 0.5 X 1.5, angling the lean body over his butt towards right. This is also a very popular way of sitting, he told, smiling shyly. I said Vile Parle. He pulled the lever. Swine flew!

Jul 26, 2009

Kachroo - Part 2

(contd. from previous post)

.. rani is the most awaited and celebrated train of our station. It is always on time and it's entry is always grand. The policemen and Saheb are always on-guard when she comes.

She starts decelerating from hundreds of meters away. The 1 minute odd time which it takes to finally come at halt is scintillating, a treat to eye & ear. The timing is so perfect that she puts on brakes precisely when the Maghrib prayer starts at the nearby mosque. She rides a smooth curve on the tracks and makes noise in harmony with Maghrib. The beautiful sunset reflects from it's black window panes.

I and my friends start running like pigs when we hear the high pitched Maghrib. "She's coming, she is ..", shouts Salim everyday. I told you a few of my friends got the thanda for no money. One of them was Salim. He's the one who starts the 'yelling welcome' everyday. We follow and so the gamble begins; the game is tough. The probability is 1/12. One has to be at the lucky bogey out of the 12 bogeys or it's gone .. the FOOD!. The well suited waiters of rani give away the extra/leftover food at our platform. The food is very delicious. What we love the most is that the food is packed. We save the aluminium foil to make wedding rings for our late night games. The food is predominantly white bread fast food. The bread is soft, although sometimes half-eaten. What we look out for is the thanda. What i look out for is Youngistan in particular.

It was dusk and Salim started the oinking. All the rag pigers assembled quickly. One of the bogey is the kitchen. Oinks include: "second last!!" .. "no no 3rd from front!!" .. "just behind the engine" .. "in front of the toilet gate" etc. Everyone tries to disguise others by yelling what they felt wouldn't be the kitchen bogey today. Rani slowed down enough so we can jump on it's gates. Saheb started yelling too, asking us to behave. Now he was also among the oinkers !!

(taken from

I jumped on 5th bogey from engine, still unaware of the result. A beautiful girl was looking at me from inside the bogey. She had put both her hands against the black window pane and had put her face inside them to increase the vision. She was looking all the more gorgeous in that pose. It takes about 15 seconds for rani to stop after we jump on it. I stared at her for that short & sweet period and for a moment forgot about my Youngistaan. It halts, everyone shouts. Policemen hurled his stick at us and so the gate opens.

I missed it. Missed it again. It was 3rd from the front. Salim got the food again. I am happy only because the one who yelled "3rd from the front" went to the 6th, what a loser!. I jumped back on the platform, took off my shirt and tore off the pocket; it's anyways of no use. I abused my luck and sat down. The sun is almost set. It's teasing me from the window pane, all happy and red. Smiling behind my back and making me see him through the pane; bastard !

Rani waits for about 10 minutes on our platform. I stared at the sun for 10 minutes continuosly. It set and my eyes quivered. I rubbed them and when i looked up at the same pane, i saw her. Sweet mother of all gods. I forgot her as i was busy with my disgust. I winked at her like Shah Rukh Khan and smiled like Aamir. She smiled back. She liked me.

Then i gave a head nod. She smiled again and came at the gate. It was stint time for me. I lied down and got up like Shaun Michaels from WWE. Then i took a curve sharply and jumped to the heaven's own gate no. 5. She laughed mysteriously and Saheb hurled his green signal; dreams shattered. That dog hates me, badly. He couldn't wait for a minute. I had no choice but to jump down. I waved at her and gave her a flying kiss. She went inside, came back again and threw a thanda bottle towards me. I opened it and took a huge gulp.

"Youngistaan" .. the name is perfect.