Blogs die

I had imagined I would document here whatever happened to happen around, here and there. But the sad truth is that blogs die. We cut down on writing, but I don't think we forgot why we wrote here in the first place.

I used to refresh these pages on the right a few times a day, expecting wonderful things to turn up any minute, and they sometimes did. I still do that once a week. If you come here sometimes too, you would know what it feels like. Probably like knocking on a locked door. If you have followed those 100-odd embarrassing posts, I know this rusty one will be forgiven. The burden of expectation is gone, and that is not necessarily a good thing.

I know we are all still the same, just that we have still not gotten over the shock that graduation was. It would be funny to write something very smartassy under Ganguly's latest post on his blog (trust me, we still have a sense of humour), but the pic and caption are all too fucking sad. The truth about college is that it was once a means to an end, or to another means to some end, and I hope it still is to the students there because that is why people go to colleges, but we had stopped caring about it a while back. Which is why this post is not about the present. I might tell you about the present and try to give myself false satisfaction in the process, but I realize now what it will be. In our own ways, we are all probably trying to make the future better, but I have strongly felt that in reality we have been trying to make it resemble the time that was semesters 7 and 8.

Fourth year, IIT Kanpur is where it should have stopped. We might just wake up one day and find ourselves in our wings and rooms, but we do not. We wake up in weird places, meet weird people and do weird things all day. Fourth year, IIT Kanpur ended - so here we are. No matter what here is, it is a bad place to be in. Giving it time does not help you get over it. We had planned about, or at least dreamed of doing something, but we chose to be safe and maybe there still is time to take a risk worth taking. I hope we take that chance one day.

So here's to what Ganguly says - we never did leave Hall 1. One day we might. But I hope that day we move somewhere close by.

From Wikipedia

Reporter: I'd like to direct this question to messrs. Lennon and McCartney. In a recent article, Time magazine put down pop music. And they referred to "Day Tripper" as being about a prostitute...

Paul: Oh yeah.

Reporter: ...and "Norwegian Wood" as being about a lesbian.

Paul: Oh yeah.

Reporter: I just wanted to know what your intent was when you wrote it, and what your feeling is about the Time magazine criticism of the music that is being written today.

Paul: We were just trying to write songs about prostitutes and lesbians, that's all.

Don't read if you grow old and mature

Hey dawgs, the Benjamin Buttons of the brain have come up with yet another masterpiece. It's partly a product of having nothing to do and partly because Durable is a real life hero, peace prize deserving person.

Go to MaaBehenJokes for the best MaaBehen Jokes in town, y'all. That going to be the 2 millionth word in English by the way - MaaBehen, so come back to check what it means in some time.

Theme of the Week: Life roxcxbcjbxcjhfd

Life couldn't possibly rox more. We're all done with college and there are no words to describe how roxing it is. But not quite all of us. Prashant Gautam is coming back but hey, what do you know? His internship rox so hard it puts rox kings Iron Maiden out of business.

Let us start with Sameer Singh's life. He enjoys the recession, this lad. While the West reels under it, we here have managed to grow at 6.something percent and thus, he's bound to have his laughs. (After all, they did call him a Paki when he was in the United Kingdom for a couple of years. Even in his report card.) He's happy with our government and everything else. Hell, the captain of the Indian cricket team is a Bihari (Jharkhandi if you like), which is what Sameer Singh is as well, and so he has every right to even be a notch happier than the rest of the nation. He's at home, exercising and shaping up for his wife to be and that is known to make you feel good. He needs to take a dozen or so exams but he was known to be a top notch examinee back in his college days, so that's not a big worry. He really did bedazzle professors with his amazing prowess and that is exactly what he will do again? Will you not, Sam?

Oh, but the knock-out punch of roxiness is this - he's out of IIT Kanpur, but as a special favour (recognizing his drop-dead good looks) the college has still not pulled down his brilliantly designed and conceptualized home page. Once again ladies and gents, but sadly for the last time ever, I give you: Sameer Singh's home page.

Note: Someone, anyone, somehow, anyhow, please fucking save that page.

Now a quick look at Soham Ganguly's life in the remote land of Siliguri. That place is quite nice he says, and relatively free of communism too. That makes Soham Ganguly's life nice and bluesy but not quite roxy enough. What does make it so is his job. Brilliant, is it not? Pays him a lot and down there in Siliguri, them Bolsheviks don't even know there is a rich bull to milk in their midst (or whatever that process might yield, don't be lame). Of course there are minor questions about whether the offer sees the light of day but for a man who has love in his life, they pose but an academic threat.

His lady does not know he has that absolutely smashing job because he wants to win her over with honour. Mind you, gorgeous and respected as he is, he will. Post graduation, he has found both direction and meaning in life, and could it get better than that?

Prashant Gautam is the sulky kind. He will tell you he is in a total yenless mess in Japon, sans friend or foe. He might say all of that yes, but who doesn't day dream about Japanese girls? I mean not you Ganguly, since you're in true true (sic) love and your dreams were monogamous last anyone heard, but who else? If you prefer German, then there he has them in the International Students' Hostel near his place. Exotic property this tall brown man is and intrigues strangers, male or female. He has all the time in the world and all the girls in the world to spend it on. If that had been the case with him at other instances in his life too, what differentiates it this time is that he is rich. With a couple of katanas adorning either side of the waist, a kurta-pyjama attire and a moustache, my bet is that he will get laid. Roxcbxjcbdfsfkds.

And then there is Varun Khaitan who took his award along with him to this village in Rajasthan and to Aruna Roy madam, to show off as he does his thing. He creates manure for drought-hit farmers each morning, and that's about all the social work he does, I suppose. But he's going to big titty US of A to get more chocolates and hash functions for himself than ever before and with all that money, he'll just \m/ (a month's salary (after appropriate tax deductions) says he will play the guitar better than Hendrix once's he is as rich as he will be)

Me? I have simple needs. The comforts of home, the World Cup and a modest job that awaits might not sound like stuff for celluloid, but I'm not Shahrukh Khan either. For a fat, balding person, scraping a living is satisfactory enough. I know one might say that it doesn't sound like fun enough and definitely doesn't fit in with the theme of the week.

But guess what?

THE ZUNE IS COMING BACK MOTHERFUCKERS, SO FUCK OFF AND DON'T SHOW ME YOUR UGLY FUCKING FACES EVER AGAIN, BECAUSE I DON'T NEED NO FAGGOTY FUCKING FRIENDS NOW, FOR SURE.

aaHHAHSAHSAIHDASUHFIAFSDIFDSIF. liIFE ROxSCSFDKGKSD.

Convocation '09

So we graduated the day before yesterday (really did, by God) in black robes and hat that required us to pay 500 rupees in caution money. It's all over, I'm home and all my stuff is here too. Of course I will go back to IIT Kanpur once in a while but a person's stuff is important - it tells us where our home really is.

Of course yesterday was the most awful day in many and abruptly, we were all on our way back without the reassurance that we'd be back. Here's looking back on the last two days:

1. Convocation: We cheered for each other as we knew only we could. I guess people did stare but then we had to shout so we did. And then Khet got the best all-rounder award at which point Ganguly went up to the stage and announced it was him who'd recommended him and followed it up with jerking off on stage. Photographs of Kheti, Darua and Sam made it to Amar Ujala. While Kheti looks like a stud with his award, Darua and Sam look constipated without one.
2. Chief Guest: Sucked. His American accent was his biggest ever achievement, he confessed, and if you google "diamond four Cs clarity carat colour cut", you'll get where he got his speech from. Anyway, his company gave IITK loads of money to build the Outreach, so who cares if his speech put us to sleep. Most speeches do.
3. Parents: Our parents were here, which was scary. We couldn't afford to be as us as we are, our rooms couldn't afford to be as dirty, our wingmates couldn't afford to watch what they usually do on Sunday afternoons and our potty couldn't afford to smell as bad as it does. Shit happened with Sam like it usually does and the naked girl sketch that was not his doing got the wrong kind of audience.
4. One Last Time: I returned to the campus for one last night which went the same way it did so often - a round or two of intoxication and a round or two of the campus and a ladyless group's applause for any girl who passed.
5. H3KMKB: H3KMKB we shouted and everyone with parents still around ducked for cover. Sorry for that. But H3KMKB.

And then, Ganguly left. Then I did too. Tonight, Sam shall. And a shitload of others.

Mumbai fed me its shit... again

I'm in a train again, and it partly sucks because I don't have a berth. But the reason it partly does not suck is that the Delhi Daredevils and the Deccan Chargers are on war and Deccan need 19 off 10 balls. By the time I'm done, they will be done too.

Well I read this book today, The Reluctant Fundamentalist, and it was good, but you know what? Fuck the book and fuck this train full of college girls. Full? There are no less than 23 girls from one college, I heard the TTE say. But sadly, this is a point in time when there's more than girls to my life. There's the rotten Mumbai trip behind and the unwelcome Bangalore prospect ahead. There's also loads of irritation over a couple of Indian female authors - namely, Tishani Doshi and Rashmi Bansal.

1. Mumbai trip and Bangalore prospect - Well, the last time I was here was right after the Goa trip that went down in history as the cheapest fucking trip anyone ever made to Goa and Mumbai. Please excuse the over-use of the word 'fuck' as you read this. I am trying to recover from a tremendous overdose of Gujarati and Marathi and it brought back unpleasant memories of the four years I spent in Ahmedabad.

So the last time, I (and so would Sam, Kat, Vaibhav Gautam and Mutta) remember traveling in trains and having a totally shit time in the process. I also remember Ghatkopar, where we stayed and how it made us feel like people in need of UNESCO support. Then there was the Gateway of India which is basically India Gate except that it isn't. So watching Gateway felt like nothing at all. Lastly there were the girls with fancy cameras on Gateway who were supposed to mail us pics of us standing, looking bored, but they didn't since there's no point keeping in touch with ugly people.

This visit was different. The trains didn't kick my nuts, the taxis did. Not lowly poor Ghatkopar but rich and swank Juhu-Santa Cruz was where I parked my ass every night and it was a real fucking honor to eat shit near Amitabh Bachchan's home. And Gateway didn't suck; the combination of Taj and Gateway did. It's not as if the Taj wasn't as noticeable earlier but since everyone ogles at it a little more after the terrorist attacks, it has turned cocky. Those camera girls weren't there and an anti-terrorism-pro-peace gathering had replaced them and the speaker auntie's enthusiasm was freaky. And then there were Juhu and Chowpati - Kumbh ka Melas sans naked, high, man-eating, awesome sadhus. No spirituality up for grabs, only over-priced pav bhaji.

And what of Bangalore? Better place than Mumbai I find it, yet there is something amiss. The National Capital Region? the old-new city divide? history? home? punjabis? There's something about Delhi.

2. Tishani Doshi and Rashmi Bansal: Rashmi Bansal, IIMA graduate, author of Stay Hungry Stay Foolish - a book about 25 IIMA entrepreneurs, has narrated tales that may be summarized thus:

Person gets into IIMA. Person is tits and becomes entrepreneur. Person is rich, the end, fuck off.

For the book, I forgive her, but for not knowing where to put spaces and commas and full stops. In the era of Word, she deserves to be sued for stupidity. Fuck all of them IIM-IIT authors.

Tishani Doshi is a totally different case though. She writes on Cricinfo about the IPL nowadays and is authoring the biography of Muttiah Muralidaran. She has written articles about the following, no kidding:

1. One on MS Dhoni being handsome, one on the best butts in IPL, yet another on the 'coolest' teams of IPL
2. Mandira Bedi being sexy
3. Chennai losing matches for having "lost that lovin' feeling"

Sadly these articles are not part of a point-counterpoint series where a sensible male author could write contrasting articles about:

1. Dhoni looks okay but the truth remains that you're horny and depraved and you write shit
2. Bedi's tits sag just a little even as Rakhi Sawant is looking for a guy to marry in a new reality show, so the BSE rose by 4% which is unmistakeable indication that Tishani Doshi should shut the fuck up
3. Chennai is winning now and thus Tishani Doshi must make it a point to either be teabagged or to burn her keyboard, both of which will give me equal satisfaction.

Today she wrote that it surprised her that a country that came up with the Taj Mahal could come up with something as ugly as the IPL trophy. I try to imagine the satisfaction she would've derived from the argument and it makes you feel not like pointing out that by her logic one should be able to use the anus to sip cola, but like stabbing your brain out of the agony of having to accept that people like her are this country's elite authors and journalists.

PS: This was long and pointless and not funny. Anyway, Delhi had won before I could complete the second paragraph. Deccan lost seven wickets for 12 runs in 17 balls at the end and a certain Rajat Bhatia made them beg for mercy, which wasn't coming. Varun Khaitan Reddy and his wife can say my name as Delhi has defeated Deccan for the fourth time in two IPLs now. 

Sehwag said "we have a motivation that if we win, we get US$50,000 from our franchises". That he said because he is a brainless marad Jat.

The IITK Girls Hostel T-Shirt Design

The title is self-explanatory. Hall 1 is the hostel where the fourth year male students stay. Here's the design and it begs the following questions:

What does it have written all over it: "Fuck Me" or "fuck me" or "fck meh"?

See, there's a difference: The first one can come only from a sophisticated whore. The second phrase may be uttered by one who's not in a total hurry but is stupid nevertheless. The third one, however, can come only from one that has loads of attitude and cares a damn about grammar. For instance, a super stud-ass Type 3 whore may end a sentence like THIS!!

Since when did the GH start selling its sexuality?

To the uninitiated, it might sound surprising, but this has gone on long enough. Everyone knows they're ugly. Hell, I'm ugly too but then I don't come up with T-Shirt designs like this: 

When boys know they're ugly, they keep shut. When girls know they're ugly... that's the sad part, they seem to never know they're ugly. Girls in IITK are ugly, and too thick to know it. They have been known to strut around with constipated looks on their faces during Antaragni, waiting to get noticed. And write stupid articles and wear stupid dresses and so on and so forth. I have every right to hate them from the core of my heart. The difference between a slut and a whore is that a slut does it for pleasure while a whore does it for something in return. That's why Miranda House produces good old sluts while we're stuck with whores who'd do it to pass or do it for a job.

Why am I worked up?

That's because the worst part about being an IITian is the tag. It's not just about the girls, but all the other complete assholes who're IITians too. To be thrown into a category with them is a complete agony and disgrace.

Thus I disown this place. I swear I had nothing to do with the complete idiots that go out of here. I swear I had nothing to do with the good ones either.