Do You Really Care?

MOVED!

2009-07-02T01:50:00.004-05:00

So for those who are not aware yet and are somehow magically still reading this - I have moved to a "cooler" . If you have been kind enough to link me on your website/blog, please be even more generous by changing you link to the new one. If you have gotten me on blogspot, you should be redirected right about >>>>NOW<<<<

P.S. Wow, you must really have slow internet if you reading this because you should have been redirected. Anyway, just for the record, Wordpress is way more awesome/convenient compared to blogspot. I think you should move too.

"Hiatus"

2009-03-26T10:45:00.004-05:00

My non-blogging is more of a time issue than anything else. I have never been occupied with more things to do than right now - four 6am mornings courtesy of work, a mega event on April 11, sixteen hours of school every week and a friggin' Indian Bollywood dance that I have committed to which I kinda now regret. I am working on a new website for myself while simultaneuosly doing website/design projects for pay. Easy money is tempting, however much it shovels down the work hole.

Amidst all that, spring break was crazilliant. Cancun was safe and one hell of an experience. More on that soon, when I get time to actually think and blog.

Oh, and I should admit, I'm a little blogstipated too. Maybe this new website will splurge a fresh zeal. Till then y'all should give this a read.

P.S. Arsenal are finally doing well. Watch them wreck...IF this rare expression of Arsenal joy doesn't voodoo us gooners again.

Concert Addiction

2009-02-05T17:51:00.027-06:00

In my 19 years of existence I have come to realize that the one thing I truly enjoy is a good live concert. To hear artists unleash my favorite tunes almost sends me into semi-delirium. It's just an escape, a way of letting go - good live music is priceless. Matchbox Twenty is the the concert I enjoyed the most, not because they were awesome live, but because I love their music. I knew every song and sung along all night long. Robbie Williams comes a close second. Besides enjoying his music, he knows how to get his crowd going. Iron Maiden rocked Dubai out. Ali can tell you more but we were in the first friggin' row and they just blew us away. Eddie, Maiden's mascot, walked in half way through and that was especially special in addition to the friggin Maiden tank which came on later.

My first ever concert was Bryan Adams. It was seventh grade and knowing his ballads made you cool then. Obviously, going to his concert was a must, and it was definitely worth the cool factor. His music is sing-along personified.

Ali, yet again, inspired me to go watch The Scorpions - the German rock legends that sing the Guitar-Hero-classic "Rock You Like A Hurricane". They, though, rocked us more like a rugged storm than anything else. I also saw Jethro Tull, a contemporary rock band, and Remo, an Indian singer, with Ali. Our stint together of watching concerts was only beginning. Dubai Desert Rock 2005 hit us next. We freaked out over the banshee-like band, The Darkness, and got squeezed to death during Machinehead. We laughed at the fake-Dubai-goths who hustled up in front when Within Temptation came on and laughed even more at a couple of local Dubai bands - Nerve Cell and Juliana Down. I remember one of those local Dubai guitarist tried breaking his guitar after "oh-too-cool" a performance, but the stage people stopped him. Dubai Desert Rock 2006 gave us a Testament to some classic and diverse rock. Junkyard Groove, an Indian band, was the first band to perform and they made me real proud of the music that was coming out of my conutry. Reel Big Fish, a random contemporary band, amused us because of this one visibly fat guy who sat on the stage sipping a drink, expressionless and bored, throughout the concert. They are now, three years later, taking over Harendra's life. Three Doors Down were at DDR 2006 too and that concert will largely be remembered for the on/off stage love affair that existed between their lead singer and my great friend/big three-doors-down-fan Tejas. Stone Sour were pretty awesome too. Corey Taylor is friggin solid. Megadeth headlined DDR 2006 - I don't remember much about them, I kinda slept through most of that. I honestly was exhausted.

There is one condition that needs to fulfilled in order for me to enjoy a concert - I need to know at least some of their music. I would have enjoyed The Prodigy, Mastadon, At The Gates and In Flames if I knew their music. I doubt I would ever have enjoyed Lauren Harris though. Anyway, there have only been two exceptions to that condition to date - Sepultura and Naturally Seven. Sepultura is a heavy-rock Brazilian band that I had never really listened to. But they were so energetic and powerful live, that I will never forget how they sweeped me into their world for a good hour. Naturally Seven opened for Michael Buble in Austin and their a capella talents just bedazzled us into a burst of appreciation. Buble, himself, was quite the entertainer. I saw Matchbox Twenty, Alanis Morrisette and Mutemath the day after Buble in Houston and Bon Jovi and Daughtry a month later in April in Dallas. Chris Daughtry had a bad throat so that kinda messed up his performance. Maroon 5 and Simple Plan were next in line in May. The former kicked ass and the latter weren't as bad as I thought they would be. Oh and I helped organize and watched Penn Masala peform at our univerisity in March too. Spring 2008 was truly a concert-filled semester.

I don't know if this is coincidence, but I always try catching a concert when I travel. I saw Keane in Bangkok and "Bedshaped", their greatest song, did officially send me into a delirium. I was super-lucky to catch Metallica in Madrid and this past winter '09 and I got squashed at an Arctic Monkeys concert in Wellington, New Zealand. It's awesome observing different crowds. From Spaniards singing Metallica songs with the weirdest accents/word-formations to the ridiculous knowledge that some Thai people possess about Keane, concerts are truly memorable in some way or the other. One real bad experience was when I tried to watch a concert intoxicated. I was buzzed and it seemed all okay until my bladder betrayed me. Friggin' alcohol triggers the bladder to the extent you just cannot hold it in, especially when your standing in the first row, constantly hitting the railing. I think the Metallica concert is the biggest one I have been too - nearly 40,000 people gathered to witness the metal legends. James Hetfield was brilliant.

On the other hand, Rap concerts don't work - not because I don't enjoy rap, but because there have to be "live" instruments at a "live" concert, not some DJ booth that generates all them louder-than-loud beats. I rather stick to my headphones-rap rather than some loud and obnoxious c-rap. Flo Rida was pretty pathetic. It was all about him ripping his shirt off, shagging champagne onto the largely naive audience, screaming rather than rapping and making a fool of himself. Cherish, who performed at the same show as Flo Rida, were even more disgraceful. They were hot, but a bunch of pretty girls singing their only "good"/popular song in a ridiculous fashion isn't really a turn-on or a source of entertainment.

I saw The Killers this last Tuesday and Coldplay back this last November. Coldplay were awesome, as expected. The Killers were umm, mehh. Mr Brightside, (my and many of my friends' high-school song) was good - that's about it though. They could have done so much more with their stuff. It was a good concert, but not great. Nickelback are coming to Texas soon but we felt guilty buying tickets to yet another concert, how much ever I was so ready to. Anyway, next time.

All this concert-watching has put me on the cover of one documentary - Global Metal. Oh and I also play a 0.76 second cameo in it. That's where the picture is from, try spotting me. So yes, the one thing I truly, truly enjoy with all my heart is a live concert. I will keep watching them as long as I can afford to watch them. You should try it too.

P.S. Have you been counting how many concerts I have watched? 40, if you were curious :).

New Zeal + New Zealand

2009-02-03T01:28:00.006-06:00

Yes. I haven't blogged in a while. Apologies. I should be consistent. Yes. It's not that difficult. I know. But it's the will that struggles. Excuses, excuses, but let's sincerely hope that this is a new zeal.

I went to New Zealand this winter break! Yes, very cool indeed. My roommate is from New Zealand and I stayed with him and his family for a great five weeks. If they ever do come across this, I sincerely thank them for taking me in. It was an amazing vacation and we did a lot of cool things which you might not want me to rave and rant about. So, I'm gonna make a compromise and talk about just one thing - Bungee Jumping.

We reached "Gravity Canyon". It was somewhere in the middle of nowhere in this city/town-like place in the North Island called Taihape. An 87-meter tall bridge stood in front of us. People were spreading their arms apart and jumping off this bridge with a bungee attached to their feet. Some screamed and yelled and others were too cool for all that. They bounced and bobbled in mid-air and it almost seemed too crazy to be true. Yes, I was scared. But my heart wasn't beating as fast as I thought it would. 87 meters is a long way down, but it seemed safe. The people before me didn't bust their ankles nor did they land head first into the shallow water, killing themselves. That seemed to be comforting enough.

I was sitting somewhere on the bridge, all strapped up, ready to fall under the force of gravity. I looked down. It was a long long way down. I know Dad's scared of heights, but it didn't pass on to me. For some reason, I was more excited than scared and I was loving it. To me, it was my first ever moral victory. I was actually being half-brave, right? The safety officer gave me last minute instructions and did her last minute safety checks. Everything was fine. I stepped up to the jump board.

"Three, two, one...bungee!" she said.

I took a deep breath, spread my arms wide open, smiled and without a second thought, jumped into the open. The three seconds of free fall went away just like that. I then dangled and bounced in mid-air, spinning too many times, and still somehow enjoyed the extreme nature of what I had just done. I then lay their hanging; upside down with blood rushing to my head, yet embracing this truly unique opportunity, unquestionably happy that it had all gone well. I was lowered slowly and the fifty-seconds long experience was over, all too fast. My heart must have obviously been beating way too fast to process anything. Sometimes excessive adrenalin washes everything away, even something you want to remember. The free fall is not even a blur, it's just a feeling I really want to go back to. Not because I loved it or hated it, but because I don't remember it. It just went by too fast. The feeling of accomplishing this relatively daring act seemed to overwhelm the experience itself. I felt bloody good about myself, but on retrospection I feel slightly incomplete. I want to do it again. I need to do it again. And the next time I do it, I'm going to make it a point to remember the air thrashing against my face, the blood bubbling through my veins and the sheer joy of the thrill erupting in my head, or whatever it actually feels like.

I have videos and pictures but they don't translate anything. It's one of those unexplainable feelings that you have to experience to understand. I feel that even the greatest writer cannot explain the thrill, because it's only when the reader resonates with the writing does the piece of writing seem beautiful. If you've bungee jumped, you might be able to relate to this. If you haven't, you must, and then come and read it again. Technology has made something so ridiculously extreme, possible, and in that, almost trivial. Embrace it before it's too late.

P.S. I am going to upload the video on YouTube and will post the link up here when it's processed. I keep looking at it, trying to remember what exactly I must have felt when I was falling. It doesn't really help though.

The Truth Behind Movies

2008-12-07T03:54:00.002-06:00

Most things in movies don't make sense. I guess that's the point of movies though - transcending into the unreal. Right. Life's not a movie how much ever we want it to be so why the hell do we love 'em so much? "entertainment" haha.

It's 4 in the morning and I am pretty intoxicated. Excuse the emotions.

P.S. My first iPhone post! Cool, eh?

Mumbai & India: A Passionate Discourse

2008-12-04T00:15:00.003-06:00

BEFORE YOU WATCH:

Wait for it. Give the guy a little time to move into his passionate discourse and I'm sure you will keep listening, especially if you're an Indian.

AFTER YOU WATCH:

Do I support what he has to say? I don't know.
Does he have a point? I think so.
Is he being slightly hypocritical (because well he is only talking too)? Maybe
Does he speak well? Hell yeah.

P.S. I did not know how to react to this. My only reaction was that I wanted more people to hear him out and see how they react.

Food for Thought

2008-12-04T00:05:00.005-06:00

So,
Do you want to save the world, make a difference, have an impact?
Or
Live your life?

I bet you are gonna say "both" - "Making an impact is my way of living life" or "I will live life for a bit and make a difference for a bit, you know, find the 'balance'."

Me? I'm still deciding. Or, I don't know.

P.S. This is not a cry to ask people to comment on my blog. It's just something that struck me, ironically, amidst all the "studying" that I am supposedly doing. So, it genuinely is meant to be food for thought amidst all your "studying".

BOMBay?

2008-11-28T17:02:00.005-06:00

Every Indian blogger is going to or is already blogging about the tragic scenes in Mumbai. There is enough said and there are enough opinions fluttering around for me to add another. The government is being criticized, the terrorists are being feared even more, the people are uniting under the umbrella of devastation and everyone is wondering what the hell can we do to stop these bastards?

It's scary how a person can be convinced to kill, brutally. Obviously, that person has a strong conviction that what he is doing is the right thing. "Revenge is right." "It's for the greater good. Right?" WRONG. I just wonder what echos in their heads. Are these terrorists freaks? Are they brainwashed? Are they working for money? Are their families being held ransom? What the hell is driving them to do such crazy, mindless things? I'm a human too. I know what it feels like to feel anger, hatred, love and the other countless emotions. Yes, I've been brought up in a good household and have been provided with all the "luxuries" of life. But how much shit can they have gone through, and how much have they been brainwashed to kill? They mindlessly murder and enjoy the success - it's sickening.

Human capacity is at times, unbelievable, especially when the world gets a devastating reminder. Be it 9/11, the London bombings or the countless attacks in India, it is beyond me how someone can live with themselves after killing. I'm naive, unexposed, unharmed - no doubt and I'm glad. I guess it's beyond me to truly understand what it takes to kill and what goes on behind it. I'm glad that I'm not going to kill.

But what do we do about these killers? Hunt them down and kill them? Slightly hypocritical? So, we should NOT kill them? But, how can we live with that? "Kill them bastards!" Right? Should we take things into our own hands? Or no wait, let the goverment handle it, right? But the government sucks balls, what can they really do about it?

We naive, helpless, almost insignificant people light candles, pray, get worried, console those that have lost, get upset, change our status on FaceBook showing that we are praying. But, how much of this praying and lighting candles is going to actually make a difference? Yes, it might lift the ones that have been hurt, but is it going to stop them from getting hurt again?

So, what should we do? Join the army? Start our own armed anti-terrorist organization? Vote? Oh some would say we should do small things to make a small difference and the small differences will eventually sum up to become something bigger. It's all easily said and done, but how big is this "bigger thing"?

I'm not being a skeptic nor am I trying to prove a point. Honestly, I don't have a purpose behind this post. I don't even want this to make sense to you. It's just something that's spinning in my head. I want to throw it out there and see who my mind resonates with.

P.S. It's a mad world. Listen to: Gary Jules - Mad World

Consumed By Time

2008-11-18T06:43:00.002-06:00

I was in Portland, Oregan, away on work, for a whopping 5 days and only came back to Austin yesterday afternoon. It's about 6ish in the morning here in Austin and I have a presentation to give in exactly 6 hours on "same-sex marriages" (oh, the wonders of the free world). I have 2 mini-papers due tomorrow which I haven't really started. Right after my presentation today, we are heading down to Houston to catch the Coldplay concert. I have a mock interview on Thursday and then I am essentially free.

The house needs to be cleaned, the bills need to be paid and I need to communicate with my fellow Malpanis. My New Zealand visa has come through and I can't wait to hit the place under down under this winter. I still need to buy a bed, an iron and an iron-board. 4 out of 6 lights in of our little chandelier have gone bust and need to be replaced. There is a dire need to get groceries sorted out as there is literally no food at home. With Friday/Saturday comes a great desire to "party", get crunk and release everything that needs to be released. With Sunday comes a ton of meetings and the epiphany that I have a bunch of tests coming up that I haven't studied for.

Amidst all this, I really don't know why I'm blogging right now. There is no substance to this post and it has no real objective. It's about me and my life. But, that's the brilliance of having a blog. I can write absolutely anything and getaway with it.

P.S. Haha.

Sporty Depression

2008-11-02T12:12:00.003-06:00

Arsenal lost to Stoke. Texas lost to Tech. Something like that can be so annoyingly depressing. Those loses essentially mean that I cannot visit any sports websites, besides maybe, cricinfo. But still, it's so so depressing.

It's kinda fascinating how something as pointless as a soccer game or football game can affect your life so much. Currently the entire of UT is drowned in this droop, this painful low, that could have easily gone the other way. If we had maybe made that interception with a minute to go, the general mood of the entire University of Texas right now would be quite different.

Recently, like the whole wide world, life's been a little crazy to say the least. Constructive, no doubt, but tiring too. It leaves you desiring timeless time, when you can just lie down and enjoy the nothingness of life. Someday.

I'm saying all this now, but I know I would be complaining even if I had nothing to do. It all comes back the the brilliant balance of life. Too bad it's always imbalanced.

P.S. Que tal?

Oh Lord.

2008-10-20T23:55:00.008-05:00

A South Indian "Thriller" umm...imitation?

Crazy.

Enjoy.

P.S. Life's too busy to blog. Sucks :( Goli Maar!

Losing Wallets

2008-09-16T15:14:00.004-05:00

This summer in Dubai, I tragically lost my oh-so-very-importnat wallet. All my IDs, a good Dhs 500 (approximately $135), a Dhs 250 Food Voucher and a bunch of important receipts all disappeared into the thick, polluted air of Dubai. Thanks to my mum's sensational forward thinking, I was not carrying my debit card, otherwise the tragedy would have indeed been more tragic.

Yes, it was indeed a tragedy. If not a legitimate one, it was definitely an emotional one. I felt truly miserable and ridiculously pathetic. The thought of getting my foreign IDs made again added to the misery. The Dhs. 750 I lost defined my ultimate guilty feeling. Yes, it was a very sad day.

Obviously, someone did find the wallet. They obviously took the money and with a slight feeling of guilty disposed of the Texas-customized leather wallet. But I hoped against hopes that that somebody would have the decency to somehow get in touch with me, and with a delightfully charming smile, deliver to me, my lost life. Maybe he could Facebook me: "Dude, found your wallet. Want it?" Hell, I'd rather he take the money, but at least return the IDs and my beloved Texas-customized wallet.

So for the next couple of days, I signed into Facebook with great hope in mankind and belief in humanity. It was pretty useless. The "Secret" wasn't working. Obviously.

Fastforward to last week: So I was at UT-Austin, preparing for an ISA event in the Jester Auditorium, when I came across a wallet. No, it wasn't mine. But it was this random girl's wallet. The memories of the summer tragedy came rushing back. Karma was testing me - I better have ignited it's positive stream. So, I did what the loser-guy-who-stole-my-wallet did not do. I facebooked the random girl and with the great sweetness that humans can sometimes express, I informed her about my discovery.

I did not steal the money - it was already stolen when I found it (not that I would have stolen it - Hey, I'm being good here). But, like a good little karmic soul, I returned the favor that was never ever showered on me.

This, now, obviously sets up a delicious platform for me to dive into some great philiosophical thoughts on philanthropy, humanity, life, principles and ethics. And I will. Maybe some other time though.

P.S. A random incident-post after a while - I know. I just wrote this to be half-constructive, but I am still confused as to what motivated me to write this in this greatly busy period.

Unbelievable

2008-09-11T16:04:00.004-05:00

Watch this.
Drop your jaws.
Laugh.
Ridicule.
Discuss.
Have a stand.
Watch it again.
And laugh again.
And again.
Wow.
Unbelievable?

Nazar!

2008-09-06T23:12:00.002-05:00

Nazar: A South Asian Perspective is an online magazine that has emerged from the University of Texas at Austin that gives an outsider's opinion about events and activities in South Asia.
It's not a news magazine, it's an opinion magazine. Have a look - www.nazaronline.net

I have kinda started writing for it.
My article is here.

Hope life's good.

P.S. I have finally experienced the power of alcohol. It's deathlike at its worst. Maybe when I conjure some courage to write about the "experience", I will.

Apartment!

2008-09-01T03:46:00.002-05:00

So, on the 25th of August, 2008, Jason and I, officially moved into our apartment. Set a few blocks away from university, amidst a bunch of frat-houses, but still, in a surprisingly silent area, the apartment is probably the best thing that has happened to me since coming back to Texas.

Yes, the apartment is not convenient when it comes to distance from campus and is obviously incomparable to the ease of a downstairs cafeteria, but there is this certain other sense of holding that drowns all the negatives. Even though, I have eaten a lot of noodles and frozen meals during the past week, which has subsequently resulted in a uniquely over-enthusiastic digestive system (if you know what I mean), I feel that I have a place of my own, where I can do what I want and live how I want. That unexplainable feeling of independence is over-riding and blissfully satisfying. The fact that we have our own rooms also, obviously, helps a lot. A nice stereo system and a nicer television don't hurt either. It's a good feeling.

P.S. I just hope I have not spoken too soon. Time will tell.

Break?

2008-09-01T03:29:00.004-05:00

I really don't know what to blog about.

I've somehow been caught between this desire to write and this fear of being too explicit. The latter has obviously gotten the better of me. No longer do I wish to dig into fascinating stories and rant out a strong opinion. Nor do I wish to indulge in metaphorically venting out on some heart-breaker of a girl. Neither do I have plans to unleash my thesis and resolve on the frustrations of life. It seems all too frugal. Writer's block? Or pure lethargy? It doesn't really matter.

Quite honestly, posts like these are excuses. Currently, I am swept in this rare moment of inspiration, where I just want to write. I just saw "The Great Debaters" - a decent movie, a decent script and Denzel directs it pretty efficiently. This blog also had something to do with irking my inspiration. Though it's ridiculously late, I really don't feel like sleeping. Facebook is powerful; until it gets nauseating. The desire to know more about friends back home encourages me to stalk blogs and scan through pictures.

Dubai was constructive, but depressing. Mum, Dad and my Sister were probably the only ones that made it worth a while. Texas, on the other hand, is refreshing.

You might have already read the apartment post.

Sweet.

P.S. Ignore the contradictions - it's my blog.

The Dark Light

2008-07-25T05:07:00.003-05:00

I've really been enjoying movies lately.

Jaane Tu was surprisingly entertaining. Reminded me of me friends, it did. Watching it with Mum and Dad was equally charming. It was interesting that for once Bollywood made the ridiculous seem truly lovable and not annoyingly fake. It was a story being told and that made all the random bursting-into-songs understandable. Everyone apart from Genelia rocked. I loved Pappu yaar.

That obviously leads to the other movie I really enjoyed. There probably are a dozen million reviews of this movie all over the internet so I am not going to attempt to be another redundant addition. The Dark Knight is brilliant. Heath Ledger is legendary. His non-existence is tragic. Whether playing the Joker contributed to his death will always be debated, but the very fact that it could, is scary. The psychedelic Joker is truly powerful both in the movie and in the freakiness of the character. Ask Ali. All in all, like the world will probably tell you, if you don’t watch this movie and if you have anything against it, you suck.

The summer’s been crazy but not in the way that you’re thinking. It’s just been full of epiphanies. It started with Spain with my sister and my cousin. I finally realized how close I am to my sister and how much she means to me beyond just the blood relationship. Dubai was next. My parents re-instated how super cool they are. Mum’s food can never be surpassed. Dad’s greatness can never be appreciated enough. Work at TEN Sports has been a truly fruitful experience. Another change that I’ve come to accept is music-related. Good music is good music - doesn’t matter if it’s a part of your “favorite genre” or not. Amen Romit. Also, intoxication in controlled amounts is dazzling. I think too much. So getting the right amount of drunk makes me carefree and gives me the release that I sometimes really need. It’s a feel-good-don’t-give-a-shit feeling. I like.

But Dubai has its limits. I’m done with it for the summer. I can’t wait to get back to university. Also, New Zealand in winter (thanks Jason!). Good times.

P.S. Nothing P.S. worthy today.

Home

2008-06-19T18:40:00.004-05:00

I hate Dubai but Home feels good. Mum, Dad and Sister are awesome. Rekindling the lost moments with friends is priceless. Losing yourself in the place where a lot of me was shaped is smile-worthy.

Life is friggin' hectic and I love it. Coming back to the old has helped me realise how I have changed over this past year. Meeting people but not deviating from career plans, and the sense of growth is very uplifting.

University is life-changing. It all boils down to what you make of it. You can either come back as an alcoholic, smoking stoner or as a level-headed, matured individual - it's fascinating. Re-igniting old friendships and catching up with people who you never expected to catch up with, is satisfying. Life's good - filter out the hatred and embrace the worthy.

Anyway it's late and I have nothing of great consequence to say, so I will take my leave.

P.S. Hope Netherlands demolishes everyone else. :) Screw you Ronaldo. MUHAHAHAH

Redial Entertainment Today

2008-05-18T16:05:00.003-05:00

The five great souls that constitute Redial Entertainment are still alive, but scattered.

Harendra-ji is in Bombay, India enjoying university life like it should be, caught amidst his dreams, his passions and his recently shaved off afro.

Tejas-ji is in Pune, India, exploring "The Civil Cats" with his city neighbor Harendra-ji, trying to find his true education-calling; yet, staying faithful and connected to the film industry in some way or the other.

Ali-ji is in Toronto, Canada, playing CleopatraII (his guitar) better than ever, piercing, eating and studying Computer Science. Watch out for his guitar-skills - he just might become the next big thing. Remember then that you first heard of him here.

Romit-ji is also in Toronto, Canada, living his life to the fullest, becoming sexier than ever without disconnecting from anything he once treasured, which includes film-making.

I am in Austin, TX, USA, enjoying the independence like never before, getting involved wherever I can, and always staying connected to my passions of football (soccer), film-making and people.

Redial Entertainment will always unite us. Technically, it might just get revived and explore our greatest ambitions. Remember Ali, those ludacris-ly ambitious yet somewhat realistic dreams that we discussed of Redial Entertainment in those cab-rides back home?

Someday...maybe.

P.S. Visit http://redial-entertainment.blogspot.com for new updates and video.

Achieving

2008-04-20T19:55:00.000-05:00

There were once 23 (+/- 2) extremely special, little, brown squirrels. They kept running around the University of Texas with only their commitment to a cause holding them together. They all had this yearning desire to spread their brown squirrel-ness among the other thousands of squirrels. The leader-squirrel was the most hardworking squirrel that the squirrel-community had ever seen, in addition to being unbelievably nice and super-unbelievably calm. The vice-leader squirrel was this tiny, cute, little, passionate thing – you’d probably never find a squirrel more principled in life, in addition to the tons of fun this squirrel could instigate. There were also two special-breed squirrels. One of them was the genetically-enhanced-by-the-Squirrel-God “U-squirrel” and the other was the genetically-modified-by-passion “S-squirrel”. Now these 2 special squirrels were like pioneers for the other extremely special, little, brown squirrels. They inspired, motivated, helped and guided these extremely special, little, brown squirrels through crisis and dilemmas. All in all, these 23 (+/- 2) extremely special, little, brown squirrels were a united bunch of squirrels, functioning together to pervade their brownness throughout the flora and fauna of the University of Texas.

These 23 (+/- 2) extremely special, little, brown squirrels hosted a cluster of events –from serving brown-squirrel-food on campus to hosting thousands of squirrels in the biggest of squirrel-run events. Oh, how these extremely special, little, brown squirrels slogged their extremely special, little, brown backsides off! All this did not obviously come without drama. There were fights, arguments, clashes of opinions, and cut-throat disagreements – oh, these little brown squirrels were feisty and passionate little creatures! But these clashes were always constructive, and in the end, the best won through, and all the differences seemed to evaporate. Instead, there was this binding brown-squirrel-love that ignited. And then, all these extremely special, little, brown squirrels were merry again.

This cycle of constructive clashes was what made these 23 (+/- 2) little, brown squirrels extremely special. But, one day, like a bolt from the blue, Zeus bolted upon these little, brown squirrels, a curse. Oh, how the thunder clouds trembled over these little, brown squirrels! They argued like there was no tomorrow, and they hit an all time emotional low - drama and controversy unparalleled. Life moved on and these 23 (+/- 2) little, brown squirrels limped ahead too. They did their duties, but seemed scarred. The brown-squirrel electricity seemed to have dropped by a few voltages. As, the year came towards end, these 23 (+/- 2) little, brown squirrels didn’t seem to feel the love.

However, amidst all this depression, something hidden under the squirrelly-covers erupted. The 23 (+/- 2) extremely special little, brown squirrels won the coveted title of being the “most outstanding” squirrel group in the University of Texas for all their efforts. All of a sudden, everything seemed worth it. All the stress, pain, anger and frustration fizzled out only to convert into this great feeling of pride. The extremely special, little, brown squirrels had achieved something of great consequence. There was this sense of deserved accomplishment among the squirrels, and for that moment, the fights and the personal riffs seemed irrelevant. There was this burning desire to celebrate and treasure the achievement.

Treasured, appreciated and celebrated, the moment soon transcended into bitter nostalgia. All the squirrels seemed to look beyond the differences, and seemed to be lost in the memories – the ups, the downs, the laughs, the cries, the fights, the love, the anger, the stress and above all, the squirrel-ly experience.

But, just like how all zeniths have a climax, these 23 (+/- 2) extremely special little, brown squirrels also reached a point of decision. Some of the squirrels felt that they had had enough of the rollercoaster and decided to walk away, satisfied with memories. Some squirrels decided to continue spreading the brown squirrel-ness that they had grown to love. Some squirrels left prematurely, heart-broken and unable to get over the past. Some were driven out and some just drifted away, in search of something different, satisfied with what they had experienced. But, all of these squirrels hoped that there would be new squirrels to take their place and continue spreading the brown-squirrel-ness and wished them the very best of luck. The squirrels realized that just like the American Economy, everything that has a boom also has a recession. They hoped that there wouldn’t be that much of a recession, but instead more of a transition – a replacement, a restart. No squirrel can deny how much the experience has taught them, probably more than any squirrelly book could. Accepting all of this, they ended their united chapter, and looked at starting new, separate, individual ones.

P.S. As the story-teller, I’d say this would make a pretty decent feature film. Anybody want to name the squirrels?

Dancing With The Girl

2008-04-11T18:39:00.002-05:00

Long time, no blog? Yes sir – women, dances and a ton of university work. But besides that, between this post and the previous one, lies a phase of life that shouldn’t necessarily have happened but none the less, has enlightened my brain with quite a few pointers on life and women. Here’s the issue – I fall for the wrong girls. The nicer you are the less I am attracted to you. The more appropriate you are, the less I am attracted to you. The crazier you are, the more attracted I am to you. The more eccentrically messed up you are, the more I am attracted to you. I am attracted to those that fascinate me. Sounds good and all? Not really. The fascinating ones I am attracted to are the ones that screw me over. Intentionally or unintentionally? I don’t know - that makes it worse. Add that to my attachment issues and you get a bomb waiting to explode. Your friends warn you to STAY AWAY, and how much ever you respect their opinion, you do exactly the opposite. Hope + Hormones are powerful forces. The “chase” is even more powerful.

Now this “chase” is more than just stalking a random girl - that’s pure, hopeless, horny-ness. This “chase” is more hopeful. There is an undeniable “something”. That spark that you know exists is what makes it interesting. It’s not entirely one way. It might be dominated by one side, but that response from the other side is what sustains the “chase”. Then what gets added to the “chase” is this crazy mind game. Fun fun? No. I suck at mind games. I am too darn open and thus, always hand the leash to the other. I need to learn the game, or devise a new kick-ass one instead. This “chase” does sometime end and transcend into a more fruitful, stable phase, but at other times you get bulldozer-ed over. Either way, you cannot deny the pleasure of the pursuit.

I, like you, also, cannot deny the fun either. In this “chase” of mine, it wasn’t as if I was Mr Perfect and she messed up, I did some stupid things too (nothing unfaithful you drama-seeking mis-judgers). My over-emotional emotions got the better of my general emotions and I let those bastardic emotions control me. Not smart. I over-analyzed and over-thought everything. I over-said everything I felt. I was over-honest. None of that really works. What’s worse is that this situation made me say stupid, dramatic things. It unleashed this sense of immaturity that I thought didn’t exist in me. If I had ever seen someone else say the things I did say, I would have ridiculed that person’s bum off. I felt stupid and said stupid, immature, snappy, unreasonable, over-dramatic, attention-deriving things. That’s scary. But what I am super-scared of is the type of girls I am falling for. There was no real good reason to like this girl and I shouldn’t have. We are two extremes of the spectrum of humanity. We wouldn’t get along and were not getting along. But I did fall for her! I really hope it is some combination bad luck and hormones.

Anyway, “things” did happen and things did fall apart. All for the good, eh? I think so. My friends turned out to be right, and my counselor back in Dubai helped me take it all out in addition to showering her wise words of wisdom on me. My sister told me to buy this book and I told myself to try and never succumb to my emotions again. I regret some things I said and I regret some things that happened, but I learnt a ton. Good enough.

P.S. Maybe a little too personal, this post is not intended to harm anyone. Writing helps.

Nothingness

2008-03-08T19:58:00.002-06:00

Spring break is here. Woot woot! Time to parttaaayy! Get those trunks and bikinis out y’all, it’s time to hit the beach! Let’s get high! Let’s crunk it up, hoe! Let’s do this, bro!

Not really.

I am in Dobie, doing nothing, and I am loving every moment of it. It’s this weird satisfaction that you get when no one’s telling you what to do. It’s this no-responsibility, no-liability, do-whatever-the-hell-you-want like phase. You sleep when you want, eat when you want, play when you want, listen to music when you want and do absolutely what you want to. It’s brilliant. I have no family member to be nice to or to respect, I have no chore to do that I don’t want to, I have nobody to force myself to talk to - I have nothing to do that I need to. It is pure freedom and it’s bloody brilliant.

The past year has been awesome, no doubt, but there comes a time when you really just want to sit down and do nothing. All my past life, there has been someone looking over or someone I owe a responsibility too or someone I feel I need to make happy – be it mum or dad, or a friend or some other family member. Not now, and it, for some reason feels very good. It’s not that I despise any of these people, it’s just that I am going through a much needed release - a removal of the load of maintaining yourself for the sake of others, a removal of all the unnecessary drama that I somehow get entangled in, a removal of all silly complications, and just a time to sit down and breathe. It’s a time to do a little introspection and think about nothing or everything. It’s a completely no-strings-attached reason to enjoy myself and my life, away from the people I am always surrounded by, away from the good and away from the bad.

I am not in any way saying that I want this situation to last forever. No, I’d go insane without people – without my friends, without family and without everyone who I care about. But, there comes a time when you need to be away from every single thing, when you need to be alone and lonely. This loneliness is not depressing - it’s mind-bogglingly fulfilling. For me, this is that time.

P.S. I don’t when I am gonna get sick of this feeling – maybe sooner than I can imagine. But right now, it’s beautiful, let me enjoy it.

Euphoria

2008-02-29T07:55:00.002-06:00

I had waited a long time for this. It came and is now embedded as a memory, not merely a memory of what it was, but a memory of how it felt. No, it's not sex you over-assuming perverts. It was just a concert. I knew every song and almost every word. Inhibitions withdrawn, I transcended into this swoon of satisfaction, and let go. Almost voiceless and tired after, not to mention deflowered, I finally understood what I could only see on Ali's face at the Iron Maiden concert in March of 2007. It's this weird feeling of how everything makes sense, and everything is so right. I almost can't believe the power of music at times, and the power that live music unfurls is only amplified.

I thank Tarryn for taking me to Houston and back. matchbox twenty rocked the kasbah, or rather the Toyota Center, and I don't care how anyone else feels or felt about it, but I feel and felt bloody great. I guess I needed the release to some extent. I was having a crappy day thanks to the over-paranoid nature that I sometimes seem to illicit within me, but MB20 sorted all that out. Michael Buble, a night earlier, was brilliant too. His concert was more chilled though, in contrast to the energetic, heart-stomping matchboxers. 2 kick-ass concerts in 2 days - I like very much so, lots of.

ICA (& ISA) is bringing Penn Masala's booties down to UT and that should also be fairly entertaining. A Capella is fascinating, eh? Ever heard of "vocal play"? Naturally 7, who opened for Michael Buble, are "vocal players". Ali, you should have heard how one of the dudes belted out a distorted guitar solo. It was unfriggin' believable. I'll post videos on FB soon.

Talking about ICA, a bunch of the ICA committee just pulled an all-nighter to put together the "Swing-Out Application", in our quest to capture the unprecedented-ly glorious award of "Most Outstanding Organization". I was, as usual, making a video - turned out decent enough.

In other self-obsessed news, I and Jason and Tarryn have Bon Jovi to look forward to this April. Ali will probably automatically, emotionally and mentally, message the brain-centers of the world how brilliant a Bon Jovi experience can be - it's a pity how some arrogant, insecure guys frame them as "gay". That's either defensive pessimism or downright superficial. Go die on a prayer, losers.

P.S. 19 feels the same as 18. Birthdays are over-rated.

Fadoslessness

2008-02-18T01:00:00.002-06:00

The futility of futility is so futile. I did nothing of great consequence today. That basically means that today, I did no studying. Two important midterms are coming up this Tuesday and I have done absolutely nothing to prepare for the either of them. My bad, all my bad…

I thought Fado’s, this Irish pub on 5^th street, screwed me over by over-charging my debit card. WelI, I thought wrong, and ended up wasting a whopping two hours traveling to and fro from Fados, thanks to a bus detour, only to later find out that they really hadn’t overcharged my debit card. Apologies Fado’s, but WTF Anish?

Ooh, I am going to be shaking my booty for Jashan ’08 this year to some Bollywood rhythm! I am weirdly excited because it’s been forever since I dhin-chakd (danced) on stage. It kinda brings back those young frivolous days but, at the same time, allows you to be mature enough to not get over-conscious about yourself. Essentially, it’s all for the fun of it. And when something this fun can uphold ICA's solemn goal of pervading Indian culture through the roots of the UT campus, then why not go with the flow?

I am going to now print some study material for tomorrow and hit the bed. Screw the studying. If you do something, do it to the best of your ability. I am currently procrastinating, so I will do it to the best of my ability.

P.S. Peace and have a great week.

Satanic Pointlessness

2008-02-16T17:47:00.003-06:00

We partied last night. I’d have liked to say we partied hard, but we really didn’t. It was one of those Valentine ’s Day parties – a “red light” party to be precise. No, it has not got anything to do with prostitution you over-assuming perverts. What the “red light” basically refers to is that when you enter, you get a colored neck-glow-band according to your current “relationship status” – red to stay wed (i.e. those taken), green for those who are single and ready to mingle, and yellow to stay mellow (i.e. stay neutral). Super cool, eh? Yeah, right. What they should have also had was pink to wink and blue to screw – would have made the night way more interesting.

Club parties are getting boring. I don’t drink because self-intoxication is pointless, so that basically means that I have to look for un-intoxicating ways to get “happy”. I enjoy dancing, but a crappy DJ doesn’t help with that. What really gets to me about these club parties is the sexual tension that floats in the air. Everyone is checking everyone out in the most sexual of ways. That’s fine I guess, but annoying thing #1 is that a lot of things are assumed. If you ask a girl for a dance, they almost all assume that you are shouting out, “Hey, can I get into your pants?” This might be true for some horny guys, but sometimes, a dance is just a dance. If it does proceed to the pants, good for you, because you very well know that you (and your lovely friends) will not let yourself get into the wrong pants. Annoying thing #2: People hate it when someone who they find unattractive harmlessly flirts with them – it’s “weird”. But, if a sexy SOB comes along knocking on the vaginal door, it’s obviously no longer “weird”. Get over yourself you arrogant self obsessed maniacs! Instead, be flattered by the attention that you get, however “ugly” the source seems to be.

Frat house parties are worse, at least through my lens - taboo alcohol flowing like the “Ganges” (Ganga!), sexual tension blowing like the Westerlies and dancing opportunities only as flexible as the first-stage bicentennial man, does not help. Also, being surrounded by drunken people is funny only to a particular extent. At least dancing at clubs with unassuming, decent girls to decent music is a decent amount of fun; but house parties for the un-intoxicated is only a live, monotonously boring, visual encyclopedia of young people.

We, as in Jason and I, had an early morning today. We walked down to Fados, this Irish pub on 5^th street, at 9 in the morning to watch the Satan’s Children – Arsenal game. Arsenal played miserably and Eboue is going to hell. But the Satan’s Children victory was pretty pointless as it seemed that Arsenal were not in any mood to play football or “soccer”. I have the same views as this guy, so let this guy bore/entertain you.

P.S. We (ICA/ISA) are bringing down Penn Masala to UT. Woot woot! I need to make a flier/hand-bill for their show.

Limp

2008-02-15T11:11:00.002-06:00

House is one hell of a television series. The script is, quite simply, breath-taking. So breath-taking, that it literally takes your breath away, and then stuffs it down your lungs with the gustiest of gusts. To add to the breath-taking-ness, Hugh Laurie plays the character of House like a dream. Gregory House is fascinating – messed up in sorts, but principled when it matters, i.e. good. He is bloody brilliant in bestowing his brilliant bedical bisdom on beople. The Vicodin addiction does not take away anything from the brilliant doctor that he is.

Dad, you need to watch this show. Go to Carrefour or Virgin and buy the 1^st season DVDs of “House.” Yes, people do say that there are some dodgy medical facts that the writers do concoct, but that doesn’t really affect the purpose of the show. Being a doctor, you will really enjoy it.

For some bizarre reason, a couple of days ago, on the 13^th of February, a day when I did not blog, my blog got a whopping 200+ hits. Why? Brilliantly stupid, I say.

For all Arsenal fans that do happen to bounce onto this blog, let us bow down and worship the brilliance of Mr Wenger, let us treasure our current 5-point league over Satan’s children and let us pray that we kick Satan’s children’s rears tomorrow. What you also need to do is start reading www.arseblog.com – the all time greatest Arsenal blog. You should also go see the grand old Adebayor rant away about his brilliant form.

P.S. Ali, where art thou?

7-4

2008-02-14T23:23:00.002-06:00

I just saw American Beauty. Heavy stuff. It starts of slow, but picks up like a friggin’ Ferrari as it progresses. The whole “don’t-give-a-shit” attitude that Spacey eventually adopts is fascinating, and seriously, why the hell do we care so much about our friggin’ image? Get you principles sorted out and be good when it matters – things become a lot less dramatic and complicated then. On the other hand, people with the loveliest images can be as bad as Hitler and Satan combined. They appear to be as sweet as peaches when you meet them, but when it comes down to what matters, they mess up like how global warming is kicking our rears right now. And the weird thing is, just like our rears, they also don’t really care that they are being such hypocritical, superficial maniacs. Yes, if you think this superficial maniac is you, then it probably is, don’t doubt it, rectify it, you superficial selfish snob. It’s insane how unfeeling you can be at times. Don’t you get it? People are not stupid. They know you have issues – the only reason they stand by you is because they don’t have anyone else to stand by or fall back on. Another reason could be that you’re attractive, and your “friends” have raging hormones. Or, they might have pity on thou sorry self. We need each other, and as everyone is not great, we have to suffice with what we can get hold of. But hey you, good luck finding real, true friends.

If you are not one of these “superficial maniacs” then it’s a good thing. I am glad you have that edge over others to actually care a little for someone else rather than yourself. Everyone is selfish, and that’s our wretched nature; but show a little love and you’ll get a little love. Be genuine when it matters. Then, listen to Bob Marley, and get high on life.

The weather in Austin is weird. It keeps fluctuating like a singer who can’t sing – when the weather hits those flat notes, it is totally ridiculous, but then there are those random sublime notes that makes it a lot more tolerable.

University is “rocking”. I am in control of my classes and I am enjoying the independence. IM soccer is fun, but ICA is just taking up too much time. It’s good we do a lot, but we need to know when to draw the line. “Live and learn”, eh?

Jason, you're ultra cool. Never hoes before bros, I apologize.

My nose is running like Marion Jones with steroids, and is annoying the tissues out of me. Head's a little heavy - don't want to fall sick.

I am bored of blogging like any other random person about minor, uninteresting, forced issues. I hate the formality that seems to be pervasive in the previous posts and I hate the unnecessary stress I am taking over it. My blog=my way. Change is good if you make it to be, just like life.

P.S. Ridicule away you cynics, stop judging things that do not need to be judged. Feel the love generation foooo!

Back 2 School + The Bahamas + New York = Past Month

2008-01-21T01:04:00.000-06:00

There was this itching feeling/problem that has prevented me from blogging in the very recent past – A great compulsion to blog about my holiday even though I fully know that an elaborate account will bore the life out of you. So here’s the past month in less than two hundred words:

After end of the first semester and a week with my new-born nephew, Orlando came all too quickly and took me by storm. A luxurious stay in my super-cool uncle’s house in an Orlando resort and a chilled and a family New Year’s with the wondrous firecrackers of Disney preceded our journey to our Bahamas cruise ship. Contrary to my pre-conceived belief that I would be among a bunch of uncles and aunties on the cruise, I was lucky enough to meet a merry group of my-age people with whom I had the splendid pleasure of partaayyh-ing it up on all the three cruise-nights. An awesome week in New York followed in which my ultra-cool first cousin took splendid care of me. The “care” included a Knicks v Rockets game, Hairspray – The Musical, an Ice-Skating trip overlooking the NYC skyline, the NYC night life, delectable dinner, lumps of laughter, a cluster of constructive conversations and one hell of a holiday. Back to Austin equaled a lot of partying and a lot of adding/dropping/organizing of classes/schedules, ultimately leading to this blogpost.

- 180 words (expandable to 1800+ words)

I have this nasty/awesome habit of extracting knowledge from everything I experience, so here’s the extracted knowledge from this past month, which is essentially for me to know and care about, and for you to enjoy or ridicule; but not for you to react and annoy me. So here goes nothing:

[Note: It is advisable to listen to "Arrival to Earth – Steve Jablonsky – Transformers OST" while taking in the following.]

Things are easier said than done, and one’s worded beliefs seldom reflect one’s actual behavior. People should not be judged, but judging them is unavoidable and uniquely pleasurable; so, instead, let judgment not dictate your life and please do remember to leave room for accommodation, for no one is perfect. Good Friends are priceless and are the greatest s u s t a i n e r s. And most importantly, as my man Jason and I concluded, be good, always; because it is only from our bad-ness that hatred and complications breed. But then again, it’s all easier said than done, right? Thus, we establish the loop of imperfection.

P.S. Thank You Ajay Chacha, Vaishali Chachi, Ravi, Shreeya, Meghna Didi & Ankit Bhaiyya for a very enlightening and enjoyable holiday.

Taare Zameen Par Indeed!

2007-12-24T00:26:00.000-06:00

So yesterday, after a mega long period of five months, I finally went to the cinemas to watch one and a half movies - A half of "Awake" which does not need to be spoken about and the full of the latest Aamir Khan production, "Taare Zameen Par." Yes, I was friggin' excited, both for the latest Aamir Khan experience and for the replenishment of my cinema needs.

I really wanted to enjoy "Taare Zameen Par" and I did. It was simple, direct and yet, brilliantly creative. The story is straight forward, but intriguing enough to keep you hooked. It is about this dyslexic kid whose parents are oblivious about his dyslexia until the great Mr Khan comes along and turns everything around. People say that it does become slightly draggy, but I hardly felt so. The kid, Darsheel Safary, is beyond brilliant. I really wonder how they pulled out such a convincing performance from this new-young-kid-on-the-block. His rabbit teeth and killer expressions are heart-warming and amusing. He is NOT the cliched kid that we see in almost all other Indian "blockbusters" and that says a whole lot. Aamir Khan is good as usual, but cries a little too much for my liking. I love the way he has this kick-ass Mohawk-of-an-hairstyle throughout the film, but that doesn't rectify his pansy-ness. I guess the Mohawk is somewhat of a decent attempt of bringing out the youthful exuberance of Mr Khan, but I'm afraid the wrinkles get the better of him. On the otra lado, the kid's mother, Tisca Chopra, plays her role so perfectly that no one else could play her role more perfectly that she has - props to her!

But then, to make sure that the "flim" has some Bollywoodness, some of its parts are pretty over done. For instance, Aamir Khan's entry initially takes you by surprise and fills you with glee, but then the "Bum Bum Bole" gets to you. It's almost as if they over-enjoyed shooting the song and thus made it super long. Also, there is a little melodrama here and there, but not enough to annoy, but just enough for it to be lost in the positives.

All in all, I laughed a lot in this film, and at the same time came very close to tearing up. It's intentionally touchy and well sprinkled with outright funny jokes that will crack you up. Aamir Khan, as a director, has tried very hard to look out of the box for inspiration and has succeeded many more times than he has failed. The songs and it's sequences are brilliantly animated and are far from a typical Bollywood film. The subtle use of animation and cartoons is laudatory. The soundtrack blends beautifully throughout the movie and hits the right spots when it comes to eliciting emotions - the song "Maa" is so very touching. I missed my mummy so very much during that song, and the homesickness did creep in...

Beyond the technical aspects, the message that this movie screams out is strong. It preaches equality of education for all children, whether they are physically/mentally challenged or not. It almost ridicules the Indian system of its close-minded, theoretical approach and begs for the introduction of a more creative and practical system of study. It demands the Indian system to tell a child to dwell into his passion and lay more emphasis on it, rather than wasting time mugging extraneous information. The movie delivers this message beautifully and therefore, I think all teachers and all schools in India should deliberately be shown this movie so that it can help open their minds up. I strongly feel our Indian system of education needs to find a balance between rigorous theory and oblivious practical applications. What that basically means is that we need to find a midpoint between the crazy Indian System and the laid-back American/Western High School system, so, umm, shall we?

P.S. Dad, Mum, Gulshan Aunty - please make sure you watch this movie. Thanks.

Nephews & Skies

2007-12-21T23:52:00.000-06:00

My first first-cousin's son was born twenty days ago. Buried in finals and paper submissions, it took me twenty one days to get my first real glimpse of Ayan. He is this tiny little thing with one of the strongest necks among 21-day olds all over the world. He spends the most amount of time sleeping, so interaction is minimum, but enough. Whenever he is awake, his father, his grandfather, his mother, his grandmother and especially his Austin aunt take and make great entertainment from this cute little boy. I just wonder what feedback Ayan gives to the Almighty up above...

God, I like Earth. I get everything I need but the funkiest aspect is definitely my cute little bini. My dad is super cool, but why does he keep calling me "gundabachha"? My Austin-aunt is a little crazy, I must say. She thinks I am some "golgappa" waiting to be devoured, and she keeps messing around with my stomach, yelling that atrocious "golgappa" like thing.. No one apart from my lovely Granny calls me by my real name, so I often forget what it really is. Apparently, it's Ayan or something. Oh and my Mum keeps telling everyone to sanitize his/her hands before they touch me - I must indeed be holy. Sometimes my Dad holds me like he is clasping a magnum rifle! Don't get me wrong folks, it's rather comfortable. God, I need to ask you something, why do I sleep so much? What's worse is that I make these weird groaning noises while I sleep which seems to confuddle the general public. Oooh, I have successfully learnt how to create spit bubbles - it's fascinating. And why in the blooming world can't I cry? God, it's like you are taking away my strongest, most useful weapon from me. Please God, you need to sort these issues out for me. I need to be able to cry. But, on the other tiny hand, thanks for giving me a lot of hair on my head - I just hope it lasts forever. I love the glint in my eyes and my ears are huge - I can hear everything (hehe)! Oh, my parents are super techno-savvy. They have this special camera fixed on me while I am sleeping and can monitor me from anywhere in the house. It's cool and all, but what about some privacy huh? Jeez! But, the bestest thing in the world is the 46-inch-television that is going to be coming into my house soon. I have no clue as to why it is the bestest thing in the world, but I can't wait to find out. And oh, my youngest Austin-uncle is super-duper cool. Right now, that's all I know about him. Okay, Mum's coming to feed me - yum yum. See ya!

P.S. The skies of Austin are so very beautiful.

Finals Week & Homesickness

2007-12-19T20:20:00.000-06:00

Last week was crazy in a not-so-fun way. I had three major finals and a lot emotional “trauma” [yes, I’m exaggerating, but still] to deal with. The finals were awesome – I got my As and I’m glad. However, my Spanish treacher-er did screw me over – he gave me a B for my 89.53%. Everyone rounds up you fool, why don’t you? Life.

But what really made this week crazy was the homesickness. Way back in summer, I was this young man, confident of being in control of my emotions and ready to belittle the homesickness theories. I cognitively dissociated myself to believe that there was no need for me to return to Dubai this winter for I was this strong fellow who had a ton of related people in the US of A, and who thought that visiting them, instead of going back home, made way more sense. After all, spending ten pocketfuls of money and going down to Dubai for 20 days didn’t make any darn sense, right? Wrong! It makes all the friggin’ sense that it needs to, and yearns for far more attention than I have ever given it. I should have gone back home. I really should have.

It hit me when I saw all of the gazillion people that I know in universities all over the world facebook their excitement of heading back home. Pictures and videos of school and Dubai did not help either. The typical-ness of Mum and Dad made me more nostalgic than ever. The thought of enticing Ghar-Ka-Khana [home food] was agonizing. Ali, the fool that he is, was not helping either. One day before my Philosophy exam, these thoughts rattled my emotions. I stopped studying, got on Expedia.com and started looking for the cheapest possible flights to Dubai. How I searched! I called Mum and told her I wanted to come home, giving her vivid details of how the air-ticket was relatively cheap and how it could all be possible.

Oh, it’s not possible! I was in this emotional delirium which made the ridiculous seem reasonable, and that dragged me into thoughts that my Psychology professors Sam Gosling and James Pennebaker would be proud of. Emotions offer stir up such extreme thoughts and actions. However principled and “in-control” you are, the passion of true emotion can sometimes drive you to do things that you know are in no way reasonable or right. Obviously, this doesn’t solely apply to homesickness. Temptation to do the pleasurable wrong, whence engulfed in an emotional trance – that’s a broader description. It is closely related to “cognitive dissonance” [this wacky term that I learnt in my awesome Psychology class]. Cognitive dissonance occurs when you have two contradictory thoughts, which drives you to choose one and justify it. Didn’t get it? It’s a little complicated – e-mail me if you really want to know. =)

I am better now. The homesickness has subsided but I am afraid that it has only become dormant. I am dealing with it right now, but I will not deal with it next winter because I am so going back home then! At least that’s what I’m saying now. We’ll see how cognitively dissociated I will get then.

P.S. Apologies to those that got bored/annoyed by my usage of certain not-found-in-Wikipedia terms [i.e. Cognitive Dissonance =)].

Postergación y Práctica

2007-12-11T18:19:00.001-06:00

Estudiando es muy importante y postergación no es. De los dos días ultimos, tengo perdido mucho tiempo por tocando “X-BOX 360” y disfrutando con amigos. Sé que este es malo pero la vida es así…

¡Tengo tres exámenes en los próximos tres días y necesito estudiar! Más importantemente, mañana, tengo un examen final de español a los dos de la tarde. Yo tratando de estudio pero es muy aburrido, entonces yo escribiendo este “blog post” en español a practicar mi español.

P.S. I write this post to practice my Spanish and with a secondary motive of updating my blog. Translate if you care - http://www.google.com/translate_t

Melting bankPot

2007-12-10T00:35:00.001-06:00

It was a good friend’s birthday the other day, and we decided to go to this stuck-up, “posh” restaurant and decorate our stomachs with one of the most delicious of delicious delights that mankind has ever created – Fondue, expensive Fondue.

So, on the pleasant evening of a good friend’s birthday, the seven of us entered Melting Pot, one of Austin’s finest server’s of scrumptious, expensive food. We were treated with great royalty and were led to a nice, round table. The first thing that took me by storm was the “pre-waitress”. The “pre-waitress” gave us a hearty welcome and referred to our actual waiters (yes dears, there were more than one). They took our drink orders, and a couple of us ordered some virgin cocktail. The second thing that took me by storm was that each of these “virgin” drinks was intoxicated with a bulk of alcohol, even when it was pretty obvious that we were under age. Strange, but my friends enjoyed the extra-nice service.

We then placed our order – a three course Fondue Night Special. Starters included two pots of glorious fondue - melted cheese of different types with rich wine and fine flour, and accessory dip-delights that included bread of all colors, beautifully cut apples and some chips of the highest quality. Obviously, the entrees were next. Two large pots of steaming meat fondues were served. Meat Fondue is essentially a boiling, gravy-like oil. We were also given freshly cut raw pieces of all types of meat – salmon, shrimp, beef, pork and chicken to dip into the fondue. The eating process involved us grasping the meat of our choice by our fondue sticks, and putting them into the fondue to cook and sizzle right before our eyes. Once cooked, there was a plethora of sauces to dip into to add more luscious taste to the freshly cooked meat. Sauces included the horseradish spicy cream sauce, the herb butter dipping sauce, the sour cream mustard sauce, the peanut butter sauce and a dozen more. Taken by storm for a third time, I savored every bite of meat and seafood that penetrated my stomach. Little did we know that the best was yet to come.

The dessert was what made the night wonderfully memorable. The two pots were now filled with molten white chocolate and molten milk chocolate. As our waitress poured the chocolate into the pots, the warm, enticing aroma of the chocolate engulfed our nostrils, as we prepared to savor the best of the best. We were given chocolate marshmallows, bright-red strawberries, munchy rice-crispy blocks, freshly cut banana and delicious pieces of green apple to dip into the molten chocolate. As each of us dipped our way into chocolate paradise, we grew oblivious to our surroundings and let the delicacy allow us to reach this orgasmic high, experiencing seemingly eternal joy and thanking the Swiss Gods above for their brilliant gift to Earth. But then, just when it couldn’t get better, it didn’t – the waitress delivered us the bill.

A whopping’ $45/person is what we paid for this mega-expensive meal. Yes, it was delicious, but $45! We’d rather have bought some white chocolate and some milk chocolate, melted them in some melting pot and purchased some marshmallows, some apples and some bananas to enjoy the almost similar “savory” dip. Suddenly, the brilliance of the meal turned to sheer ridiculousness. The orgasmic nature turned to regret – oh why does this sound like a one-night stand? It was no longer royal treatment, but rather an exaggerated, unnecessary exuberance. The perils of temptation that man has successfully created drowned us in this moment of guiltiness. But we shook it all away, because it was one memorable night in the celebration of one good friend’s birthday. And that’s when the extremes ceased to matter, and what remained were the memories that came along with fulfilling a good friends birthday wishes.

P.S. I did get phone-whipped [kind of] by my Dad for this exuberant expenditure, but hey, it’s a once-in-four-years experience. Yeah Dad, I know that’s no excuse – lesson learnt.

Musical Excitement, Etc.

2007-11-26T16:36:00.000-06:00

Without any intention to show-off, but with a definite intention to share my future joy is why I write this post The next four months have Michael Buble, matchbox twenty and Bon Jovi lined up on my calendar - Buble on my birthday at the UT campus, matchbox twenty a day after, that is on the 28th of February at Houston, and Bon Jovi at Dallas in April. Excited? Bloody excited.

Concerts, to me, are still quite simply what I said a year and a half back on this blog:

"I would again like to highlight the sheer joy and memories a 1 hour 50 minute concert can give, so if any of you get any chance of seeing Robbie, or any other good performer for that matter, grab it with your hands, your feet, your stomach and everything else that is possible - because it is rare."
-Sunday, April 23rd, 2006.

Yes, I thoroughly enjoy concerts and love getting lost in the music. Obviously, I am the most excited about matchbox twenty. They have been my favorite band for quite a few years now, and however "cliched" or "gay" this sounds, watching them will fulfill one of my many dreams. Bon Jovi and Buble are supposedly great performers - I love their music too, so there isn't going to be any boredom issues there either.

In other news, my laptop's motherboard has quite conveniently, without any reason, crashed, which has ultimately resulted in the tragic but temporary death of my laptop. To add to this disgrace, HP is being a united idiot with regards to my warranty. I will rant and ridicule about this issue soon. Where as emotionally, I am so annoyed with how much my laptop's crash is annoying me. Lord, we have'st become'st so'st dependent'h on'th our'st laptops'sts.

Thanksgiving at Tarryn's was a great escape - relaxing, fascinating and fun! A bunch of finals and paper submissions are coming up, which I am looking forward to only to get them out of my way. Winter plans are done and involve everything but being home. Ali just blowed the bezeezles out of me, oh how I miss him!

P.S. I am writing this post only after making sure that I have the tickets to all three concerts in my hands. Muhahahaha! :)

The Fall

2007-11-17T15:13:00.001-06:00

It was on a chilly Sunday morning. Thanks to the ICA, I hadn’t slept much in the last 24 hours. A ton of ICA work had kept me up all night. I was at a friend’s place, working, while the rest of the gang chirped away about the most random of things, throwing in bits of laughter here and there. By 6 in the morning, I was done, and decided to finally head back home. Tarryn came along and I hoped to walk her back to her car, and then sleep away the exhaustion in my cozy dorm bed. But things did not quite unfold the way I planned them to.

A heavy breeze made the dark, early morning chillier. Tarryn & I were walking arm-in-arm singing and talking about the most random things, as we inched closer to her car. All of a sudden, the calm of the cold Sunday morning met with a loud yelp. Our heads immediately turned towards this sound and we saw this body falling from about four floors above the ground. It hit the road with a crunch, a crunching of bones, and then the body lay their motionless. No screaming, no twitching, absolutely still, dead.

Initially, I didn’t realize what had just happened. The shirtless body that fell seemed as unreal as a doll. The sheer magnitude of what we had just witnessed seeped in only slowly - this ‘body’ was of a university student who had just fallen four floors to his death. With his back facing us, we couldn’t see the extent of the frontal damage done, and this mysticism somewhat made it worse. Was he alive? Was he breathing? Had he passed out? My heart started to race like it had never before. I bet Tarryn’s did too, and we both started freaking out, so overwhelmed by what we had just witnessed. There wasn’t a soul around us and we needed to do something about this. I frantically asked Tarryn for the emergency number. “911.” I dialed it instantly. About 3 minutes had passed since the fall when I dialed 911. The emergency officer answered instantly, and I started ranting out details of what had happened, where it had happened and to my self-amusement, why it had happened. She told me to slow down, and repeat the details a few more times. I really can’t recall how freaked I sounded on the phone because I was in flight-and-fight mode. The adrenaline was pumping with fear and shock. I was fairly efficient in giving the emergency officer all the details. She seemed as panicked as me for there was no other reason for her to call me ‘madam, sorry, sir’.

The emergency officer then asked me to approach the body and see if there was any sign of life - that’s when I saw his face. His mouth was oozing with blood, and there obviously didn’t seem to be any sign of life in him. I was glad that the sun was not out, because that would have resulted in a gorier picture. I moved away, fearful, but slightly relieved to hear the sirens that now loomed the air. Meanwhile, three people who seemed to be enjoying a morning run arrived at the scene. They were also, obviously, taken aback by what they saw. They asked Tarryn and me what had happened, comforted us and said that they had no business to be there, and resumed their running. That was slightly weird. A few minutes later the police, the EMS and the ambulance arrived. Tarryn & I moved away from the scene and saw the rest unfold from a distance.

The police marked the crime scene – it was either suicide, homicide or an accident. Obviously, it was most likely to be an accident. A few minutes later a bulky police officer came and asked us a few questions, and took our contact details down. We were the only witnesses, and if this death became any bigger a deal, we would be called in for further questioning. We asked the police-officer if we could be excused for a few minutes to go wash our faces and put on a jumper. He obviously agreed. So Tarryn and I went up to my room, freshened up and came back down at the crime-scene. At about 9, we were still there, on police-orders to stay. We were then called by a Victims-Help officer and briefed on what was happening and what would happen. She said that we could be called in to the police station for further questioning. But what she primarily was trying to tell us that what we witnessed could be a traumatic enough experience to affect our life in university for the next couple of weeks. She said that if we needed any help, we could contact her, or visit one of the university counselors. We liked the support.

The detective finally arrived at the scene. He questioned us quickly and told us to go back home. I think he was trying to avoid us getting exposed to the media, and he did a pretty good job at that, because just as we were leaving, we saw a news-channel van arrive at the scene. I was glad that happened. I was also glad that I hadn’t slept in the past 30 hours, because as soon as I reached my dorm I fell asleep, solely because of the fact that I was thoroughly exhausted. What a day.

The next two weeks were not easy, but not that difficult either. My classes were not affected, and ICA work was keeping me very occupied, but more importantly, distracted. My university did its bit by offering us support if we needed it. That felt good, even though we didn’t actually need any of it. I think the reason why ‘the fall’ didn’t affect me or Tarryn that much was because we didn’t witness it alone. However clichéd it sounds, Tarryn and I had each other. We supported each other, and understood what the other was going through, making everything easier for the both of us. Ultimately, it brought us only closer together. I get scared to even think of what would have happened if I was alone that fateful morning.

Having said all that, the side effects of ‘the fall’ are still there. Late at night, when the air gets chilly, and I am walking back to my dorm, this automated fear starts building within me. Out-of-the-ordinary sounds send chills down my back, bringing back memories that didn’t need to exist. This fear is only temporary though and seems to disappear as quickly as it comes. But what will stay permanently in my head, is this video, this video that continues to loop over and over again. It’s barely three seconds long. But it’s three seconds of something that no one needs to ever witness.

P.S. This is a memory I will not forget how much ever I want myself to forget it. Writing always helps.

Cows & More

2007-10-28T00:49:00.000-05:00

My Chinese and Korean suite-mates just semi-disturbed me. They knocked on my door and asked me to come outside and witness something. Gordon, the Chinese one, pointed to a take-away box which had curly and slimy yet garnished food in it, and said, "Try it."

"What is it?"

"It's a cow's stomach and intestine, deliciously savored with garlic sauce."

Gordon and Chol laughed at my reaction, and I laughed back. My religion condemns such actions but their religion almost embraces it. Personally, I really don't care. The only thing I cared about was the ghastly odor that the cow's intestine left behind. Currently, the addressed food sits in the fridge, waiting to be devoured and shut out from contaminating our suite...

*****

I haven't blogged in quite a bit. It's not that I am blogstipated, in fact I have tons to say, it's just that I have been hit by time constraints - majorly. In a nutshell, October of '07 sets out to be the most dramatic and eventful month of my life, and I write that with no exaggeration. From gravitational and traumatic falls to the "biggest cultural event", October might not have had it all, but it did have quite a large chunk of it all.

I wonder if I will be able to write it all out.
Next month, maybe.

P.S. Recently, Austin, Texas experienced a 40⁰F in temperature in a single day. Oh and my suite-mates are awesome . Also, I can assure you that our suite is by far the most culturally and educationally diverse - 1 Korean, 1 American, 1 Chinese and 1 Indian.

The ICA

2007-10-06T04:07:00.000-05:00

If you know me and if I talk to you or if you are an Indian at the University of Texas, you better know what the “ICA” is. The ICA is a decently establishing acronym for the “Indian Cultural Organization”, and quite simply, the ICA is all about the spread of Indian Culture.

So why is it important for you to know about it? Firstly, it is very interesting and often borders a story of sheer devout patriotism, and secondly, I am in it – no Taylor, I don’t intend to sound conceited, it’s just that if anyone is reading this, you probably give half-a-shizer about the world around me. So before I lose you, let the story unfold.

Once upon an exciting long day, Sahil Jain told me that the ICA is loads of fun only if you actually make it into the core committee. That got stuck somewhere in the rear of my brain, and I enthusiastically applied for an interview for the position of a Junior Officer. After a slightly thorough interrogation that was my interview, Saheb led me out and said “good job man”. And later that night, it was somehow magically revealed to me through the brilliance of the electronic mail that I had made it into the ICA as the ICA’s Technical Consultant. Brilliant – Sahil’s words echoed in my mind like some super-filmy Bollywood film, and I was blissfully happy.

There are two major Indian organizations at UT – the ICA and the I(ndian)S(tudents’)A(ssociation). The ISA is largely dominated by the ABCDs or the Indians that have grown up in America, and the ICA is mainly dominated by the FOBs, or the fresh Indians from the Middle East and the Indian mainland itself. However, unlike a typical dramatic Hindi soap opera, there involves no unhealthy rivalry between the two. They both function in harmony, often working together, fulfilling their own objectives; which is a pleasant surprise, considering all the chaotic politics that takes place back home in India.

After having been debriefed on the mega-humongous Indian society that exists in Austin, I was all excited to attend my first committee meeting, and meet the ICA gang! The “ICA gang” has all the good types of unique people that The Almighty has ever produced. From the straight-out “nice” people, and the unbelievably hard-working people, and the academic geniuses, and the creative maestros to the hottest of Indians, and the Love-Therapists, ICA is a melting pot of humanity.

With a dozen or more events that happen through out the semester, which includes the biggest cultural event “Jhalak”, ICA means business. Once you are in, the commitment is hardcore. It takes up a good number of hours each week, and you start feeling the load even before the beginning of mainstream work. With 17 hours/week of classes, soccer activities, Texas Latin Dance and the random fun stuff, another major commitment like the ICA can be quite a dosage. There have already been times when it seemed to be an over-whelming burden. Jason, a very close friend, told me the other day, a commitment so severe may not be worth it, and I could completely get where he was coming from – I kept complaining constantly to him. But what he, or any other non-Indian, will not understand is that unexplainable bond that most Indians have with their roots. It’s so strong, that complain as we may, there is this bound duty that we feel that we almost owe our country. And it’s not negative debt, it’s this inborn urge to stay connected with our culture, and however occupying ICA seems, it is extremely fulfilling.

We freshmen are still new to the whole ICA work ethic, so I guess it will take a bit to get fully accustomed to it, but we seem to be learning and fitting in well - an inspiring senior workforce helps! A bunch of the senior members are doing hardcore double majors and other strenuous activities, maintaining a 4.0 GPA and taking on the third major that is the ICA. When you see such devotion, you feel ashamed to complain, and soon find no reason too. Instead, you get caught in the passion.

Jhalak ’07 is coming up. The Jhalak saga is ICA’s biggest event. It is entirely student driven and aims at the pervasion of Indian culture in the UT society. How does this happen? Indian dances, musical performances, comedy acts, fashion shows, video clips delineating the unique colors of one of the most colorful countries, accompanied by Live Video Editing, Indian food and this Indian ambience that is unmistakable to typical Indian. And to top all that, guess who is headlining Jhalak ’07? Dan Ninan – a stand up comedian who has done many shows with Russell Peters and has even performed for Hilary Clinton. November 2^nd at the University of Texas at Austin is going to be one big Indian bang, and I cannot wait to be a part of it all!

P.S. The usage of ABCDs and FOBs was not intended to offend anyone. However if anyone does get offending, I apologize and want to bring to your notice once again, that this was not my intention. I proud to be Indian.

Goodbye Jose

2007-09-25T01:14:00.001-05:00

19^th September 2007 witnessed one the most dramatic managerial departures that the English Premiership has ever seen in its recent past. One of the most successful, yet controversial soccer managers, Jose Mourinho was an annoyingly effective Chelsea soccer club’s manager. His brute spirit and killer attitude had transformed Chelsea’s ridiculous Abramovich-investments into actual silverware – two English Premier League titles, two Carling Cup victories and one FA Cup triumph.

Jose was a colorful chap, who said the most colorful of things in the most colorful of ways. A passionate coach who would do anything to win, Mourinho was a brilliant player manager, bringing the freakishly international and disconnected Chelsea players together. The players at Chelsea loved him, but everyone else around him just hated his guts. Other managers took great offense to Jose’s verbal attacks on everything that did not go his way. Mr Benitez of Liverpool couldn’t stand the Portuguese Mourinho, and he wasn’t afraid to show his hatred. Mourinho has had spites with almost every other egoistic manager, and watching these egos clash has been a wondrous site at times.

So why did he leave? Did he get sacked? Did he quit? Chelsea say that they reached a “mutual” consent with Mourinho on his removal. But personally, I do not think it was as simple as that. I think Chelsea sacked Jose, and Jose could do nothing else but accept it. So as smart as he is, and as smart as Chelsea try to be, according to them, a picture should speak a thousand pretty words, rather than a thousand true and ugly ones. That is the only bit I think they mutually agreed on.

Sacking someone is all about a clash of egos. The billionaire-owner of Chelsea, Roman Abramovich couldn’t stop poking his nose into Mourinho’s job. For instance, he forced Mourinho to spend around forty million dollars on a thirty-year old striker, Andiry Shevchenko, who he really wanted in the team because of Shevchencko’s and his common areas of descent. And amidst this entire nose poking business, Abramovich’s expectations were unbelievably high. I guess, a billionaire would think that money could buy success. Money did partially bring success to Chelsea, but not as must as Abramovich wished it would. So what did the egoistic, success-hungry billionaire do? He blamed the egoistic, success-hungry manager of not being able to convert Chelsea into the best team there is. Now when two such strong egoistic similar personalities clash, what it really calls for is a “The Bold & The Beautiful” episode on their love-hate relationship.

Personally, I feel that for a manager to be successful, the chairman should have faith and patience in what he has hired, but most importantly, the chairman should enjoy a good rapport with his manager. If he doesn’t then it is not worth maintaining a combustible relationship. So Mourinho’s departure is indeed better for the greater good of Chelsea. On the other hand, he is a great loss to the cinematic entertainment that English Premier League managers are masters at.

I hated Mourinho. He annoyed me so very much, but I always respected the fact that he was a very smart soccer manager who knew how to win, even without playing pretty soccer. Quite simply, he is a passionate untroubled maniac, who always seems to be in control of himself and of everything around him. He is like this mega, huge, strong, annoying wall that cannot be pushed around – to get rid of this wall, you need to break it down with a bulldozer. Mr Roman Abramovich is quite a bulldozer. Good luck to him with him finding a new wall.

P.S. I really felt like going back to my football (soccer) writing roots. It's been a while...

Dobie & Elevators

2007-09-14T19:10:00.000-05:00

Dobie is my dorm. It’s 27 floors tall and is the tallest darn thing in this area. There are about 900 residents living in Dobie and another 900 friends-of-residents too. It doesn’t have any issues, and is very cool with friends [even of the opposite sex] staying overnight. But it has only three elevators.

Yes, the three-elevators-issue is probably the only issue. I live on the 16^th floor and have climbed up the sixteen 3 times. Move-in day was horrendous – there was only one elevator available for vertical transport and it resulted in a very un-merry sight - too many people, too much contact, too much of time-squandering. The elevator waits can be long, very long, but are always entertaining none the less. Here’s why: The elevators are small, and are almost always full. So when you enter them, you are greeted with this eerie silence, and a dozen sets of daunting eyes. You look away instantly, counting the number of hot women around you in your head from a previous freeze-frame, and acting as cool as possible in the process. You press your floor, and then start looking at random conscious things. Sometimes you look at your watch, sometimes at elevator floor-countdown screen-like thing, and if you’re shameless you blatantly stare at the most attractive person of the sex you are attracted too.

There are times, when you are with a group of friends, buzzing in conversation; but as soon as you step into the elevator, there is that eerie silence that takes over you yet again. Thus begins the long, silent journey to your destined floor. Now as these elevators are prone to a large number of stops, you almost always find someone clicking his tongue on every unscheduled stop, and cursing the heavens above for making this seemingly short journey, painfully long. And if you are prone to claustrophobia, God has certainly not blessed you with Dobie.

So for all the above reasons, Dobie has now come up with “Elevator Etiquette” - no two consecutive floor-buttons can be pressed, and people living on floors 2 – 5 have to use the stairs. Robert doesn’t follow “Elevator Etiquette”. No one likes him.

Basically, the point to this pointless post is that the “Elevator Experience” is one of the unique sights and sounds of Dobie that does not ever fail to amuse me. From the etiquette betrayers, to the eerie silences, to the random laughs and conversations, to the furtive glances at a fellow elevator-traveler and to the annoying waits, Dobie elevators can be thoroughly entertaining, if not annoying.

P.S. The other day, Taylor, a close friend, lost a bet and thus ran around floors 16, 20 and 27, in his skimpy boxers. No one was around in the corridors, but the elevators didn’t spare him – apparently seeing a guy naked with only a towel to protect him is highly peculiar.

Hitting The Real World

2007-09-06T17:57:00.001-05:00

50,000 students in and around 40 acres of campus can be overwhelming. From being a decent somebody, it doesn’t take long for your ego to crash-land, and suddenly you realize you are a nobody. Establishment takes time, more time than you think it does.

School is more of a micro-mini-super-special-extra-caring world that you are almost born into. The teachers bring you up as their own little babies, and everyone’s ASS [Attention Seeking Syndrome] is satisfied. Fun and frolic, elementary school is considerably easy to make friends in, and to settle your tiny and naive yet wild brain. After Kindergarten, it’s almost like you ease into High School. If you are lucky enough to be in a considerably small High School [a thousand people or so], then making a somebody out of yourself in some field or the other is not difficult. Sometimes it’s so easy that your ego soars to skies and you think you are one of the greatest undiscovered talents of the world, eager to step into tougher territories to try yourself. But before you enter the real real world, you step into a human-generated independent mini-world: university.

There are no liabilities, no responsibilities, no external pressures on you except for your own, and well for those decent ones, their parents. With numerous doors waiting to be opened, you can’t wait to knock on wood and give yourself to your passions. You embrace freedom and opportunity with such vigor that you almost feel that you are born again, like this vivid butterfly that has just burst out of its cocoon, waiting to discover what’s out there, and at the same time waiting to be discovered of its beauty.

But then, there are times when these butterfly dreams come crashing back to earth and you don’t feel that “beautiful” at all. Yes the world has become small, but there are so many people in this “small” world of ours. People with diverse talents, cultures, faiths, gifts, disabilities, luck and everything else that constitute our global lives exist. Their lives are as complex as ours. And when you fall among 50,000 different people, everything doesn’t seem as colorful. There are ups and downs, but why the “downs” are better is because they bring you back to reality. They don’t necessarily make you feel good, but hey, we non-ideal people should ideally worry about what happens in the longer run, right?

On a slightly positive note, its only 50,000 people now; it will soon be 7 billion. So yeah, university does have a very important role to play beyond education, so make sure you butter-fly your rear to a good, LARGE university.

I missed out on the soccer tryouts and now I’ve missed out on blogging for UT too. I really wanted to at least blog for UT. Anyway, next year, I’ll try again. Classes are fun, except Spanish. I really want to learn Spanish, but unlike most of my classmates, I have no background in Spanish, so it’s tough. I’m struggling in it. I guess it will soon even out. The UT Women’s Volleyball game is on today, so I will probably go watch that, and oh I am going to be “auditioning” for some salsa group too. If I miss out on this, it’s not too bad. I don’t want to compete at Salsa, I just want to dance; and anyway I am getting pretty used to missing out on stuff and crashing back into this human-generated independent mini-world.

P.S. However different and diverse people seem to be, when it comes to a deeper emotional level, everyone is just the same. Some are just very good at hiding it.
Wow, a much needed vent - I really needed that. If you’ve reached so far, thanks. =)

Gone To Texas!

2007-09-01T12:02:00.000-05:00

10,000 people held together with the binding force of the Burnt Orange, the Cheerleaders, the Longhorn Band, the Acapella singing groups, the multi-cultural dances, the videos, the speeches, the cheers, the flying balls, the “ \m/ ”, the Eyes of Texas, more singing, more of the Longhorn Marching Band, the unfurling of the biggest Texas Flag, the lighting of Tower, the Bevo, the spirit and the life of UT was all encompassed in one super-duper mega night. A day before classes began, UT held an official welcoming event for us ’07 freshmen – “Gone To Texas”.

It had two stages at either end of the main mall with performances on both stages. In addition to that, a good light setup, topped by the involvement of the UT Tower, made everything even more glamorous. The show went through as smoothly as a smoothie, with a balance of speeches and performances, and that made everything non-boring. Us Desis performed a traditional dance and an Acapella performance, and I felt glad that the Indian community was heavily involved. But they were blown away by this African American girl who unleashed the UT anthem, “The Eyes Of Texas” in a truly wondrous run-filled voice. But the Longhorn Marching Band blew her away. The grand finale had the massive band laden with percussionists, trumpet players and what not, walk through the audience playing popular Texas anthems, leaving the audience in the state of frenzy. They collected under the Tower and the picture you see above is how it ended.

The common thread that connected all the events was the undying everlasting longhorn spirit. The spirit here at UT [and any other university I guess] is awesome, but what’s brilliantly brilliant about it is that you get drowned into the spirit as soon as you step into university. The pure passion in the faces of the longhorns while chanting out TEXAS spreads like a healthy virus into the blood of even the 5-day-old freshmen. The Bevo horns, the sports and basically the spirit is freakishly uniting. I never felt so united in my school and I like my school!

Classes have begun, I have moved into my dorms, I think I’ve found my friend circles and I am going for the Football [American] game today – so I think I have officially settled in, “gotten into my groove”, “found my flow” and all that rot. I went for soccer tryouts and didn’t make it - I wasn’t good enough, but I now know what I need to work towards. I might be blogging for UT this year – I’ll get to know next week [fingers crossed]. The weather is nice. My dorm is nice. People are nice. Good times. J

P.S. The girls here are pretty darn hot. But it’s depressing; they are so hot that they are out of any league that I can think of. Ahh life!

UT

2007-08-19T15:17:00.000-05:00

13^th of August, 2007 is historical in my short history. My much-older cousin brother dropped me off at the University of Texas at Austin and went of to work. With a map in one hand, and a really heavy backpack on my shoulders, I stood, pretty clueless of my surroundings. I had some formalities to sort out, and I was determined to find my own way to one of the myriad of buildings that make up UT. It was as if there was a glow in my eyes, that combination of excitement and resolute that you see in a pacing racehorse’s eyes as he strides towards the finish line - you could just see it in my face. I stood overlooking my campus ready to dismantle my barriers, and conquer [i.e. discover] that tiny GIAC [Graduate and International Admissions Center] building. But I just stood. I stood for a long long time, starring at the map, straining my “glowing” eyes to find that wretched GIAC on the map. With great effort, I did eventually find it, but all my thoughts of being a “striding” racehorse crashed away.

It was hot, my back was beginning to feel the strain of the laptop and paper-laden backpack, and I was lost. It took me a good one hour to locate GIAC. When I did find it, I realized that I had walked around it three times already. Not cool. But hey, I made sure I didn’t take any passerby’s help when I knew I easily could. This happened for the next few days. As I kept getting lost, I did also, somehow, find my way .What did all this teach me? No, I am not getting metaphorical here about how “we constantly get lost in our lives, but always seem to find a way”. That’s true, but too friggin’ Paolo Coelho – let him write all that. What the getting-lost bit helped in was figuring out the campus. My path to self-discovery of the UT campus has now resulted in me knowing the campus pretty darn well compared to other new students. Yes it took time, and I was no racehorse, but it’s something.

Besides all the self-exploration and the sorting out of formalities, UT is finally getting very exciting. Yes, there are moments when you get drowned in nostalgia and in your insecurities, but you also soon find your way out of them. Now having put many physical emoting faces to Facebookers, there is at least no feeling of being a complete stranger.

I attended International Orientation on the 17^th of August and it was pretty decent. Yes, getting loads of information can be boring, but the Orientation committee tried their best to make in un-boring. They incorporated heavy participation from the audience, unscrambling scrambled letters, food and water, and a vibrant and friendly atmosphere - so out popped a plethora of different people, citing their experiences and first impressions of the US of A. The first 6 people to step up onto the podimu were Indians – some made us a little proud, some made us not so very proud and some just lied their rears off to get some free gifts: yes, we Indians leave no page unfolded. There was this Australian guy who traveled across the world, as in literally, stopping in various Asian and European places, using 7 modes of transportation [horses, water-ferries, airplanes, trains, buses, cars and feet], and finally landing in Austin. Fascinating. Oh and we met a Chinese guy with possibly the smallest full name in the world: Yu Du. Wow.

Orientation was fun. The pizza-lunch was okay. We didn’t eat much, and instead headed to Gregory’s Gym to play some basketball, but with our greater intention being to finally use our campus’ facilities. So Jason [another Sport Management-er] and I rented a basketball and “shot some hoops”. There were other people there too, as in more seasoned players, who asked us if we wanted to join in for a game. We did. We weren’t that great, but they were. Some of the players we played against were brilliantly brilliant, way better than any I have seen in Dubai. Initially I was scared I’d be embarrassed, but we just fitted in, so it was not all that bad. =)

Next week is scheduled to be hectic and crucial. We have to register for classes and I need to figure out if I will be taking up a double major or not. Other than that, meeting more Facebookers and more new people will continue. Exciting times, very exciting times.

P.S. Again, the world is so small [yeah more crazy connected people stuff happened] and we Desis are everywhere!

Emotional Rollercoaster

2007-08-19T15:16:00.001-05:00

Till the day before, I had not properly spoken to my parents for a good fifteen days. My nights are painfully nostalgic and I am missing home more than I previously thought I would. Getting on to Facebook late in the night, - tired, but longing for belonging and longing for the treasured companionship that is now only the past, I was often depressed. Not depressed in the sense that I have issues, but just sad. Lost in memories, I started to wonder whether I will ever find friends like the ones I left behind. The whole concept of starting my life again, seems exciting, but at the same time a little scary. To physically disassociate from the life I once breathed, and the people I knew and loved, is sometimes difficult to swallow. Maybe it’s because I am thinking too much and have nothing else to do late at night. Yes, I know it’s a phase, and that everyone goes through it. Yes I know it’s temporary and it will last for sometime, before stabilizing itself like it does every morning anyway. Yes, I know I will meet new people, learn new things, grow, enjoy the independence, enjoy 6^th Street [hopefully] and get accustomed to the “new life”. Yes I am excited and I have been excited ever since I have been here. I know all of this, and I know everything will eventually work itself out. But knowing is not feeling. And I can’t help but let nostalgia get the better of me sometimes. Attachment and detachment, however opposite they are, are both so hard.

Ahhh, life! Fascinating, we humans are.

P.S. I don’t know why it took me so long to watch Good Will Hunting – it is an unbelievably brilliant movie, so if you haven’t seen it yet, please do watch it.

Angelina Jolie, Chicago & St. Louis

2007-08-12T23:09:00.000-05:00

The past week saw some of my dreams come true, and others just crash away. Having been deprived of a good theme park experience all my life, I owe it to St Louis’ Six Flags to de-virginize my 18 year-old good theme park virginity. I have now been on enough roller-coasters to satisfy my tank for another year or so; Universal Studios and the Disney experience still beckons.

Also at St Louis, we witnessed one of the greatest spectacles to hit the saintly city in the recent past: the St Louis Arch. Now this mammoth structure is the most pointless, lazy, BIG, metallic, upward parabola I have ever seen. Yes, its giant-ness gets you awestruck for a second, but then it’s back to ‘why the hell would you spend 13 million dollars on such a large pointless, slightly beautifying but blatantly bland silvery upright rectangular parabola?’ There is probably some “deep”, metaphorical explanation for its presence, a whole bunch of “leading into a new world” theories, but all that is pretty darn useless because it is only mildly fascinating. To put it into better light, it at least, seems to be more worthwhile than the 200 million dollars that are being spent in capturing Beck-sie Boy, his Posh and his Romeos and Juliets. However, the St Louis Arch experience wasn’t all that bad; add some younger-cousin-companionship, a decent documentary on Alaska [yeah, we saw it inside the arch in this I-Max like theatre], a sweet family picture and a glimpse of a packed baseball game through the tiny window from atop the Arch which we paid a ludicrous sum of 15$ per head, and it seems pretty worth it.

A road-trip to Chicago was next and the only major highlight was that I was fortunate enough to meet a married close friend of mine from Dubai. Slightly nostalgic, the meeting was mildly therapeutic in its own way. Oh, and I pretty much know all the basic information that there is to know about the architectural work pieces of Chicago along the Chicago river. But the second major highlight is what you guys will be really interested in: Angelina Jolie (and family) were in Chicago when I was there and were about 3 kilometers from us in a museum [we found out later]. Now if it was Sandra Bullock, I wouldn’t care much [not that I hate her, but you get the point]. Oh and we saw Oprah’s building too. =P

Sprayed between and during these road-trips were circuses, and lunches and dinners at all the finest of places that the US of A has to offer, devouring a variety of cuisines and being wonderfully spoilt – that’s what a holiday is all about. All this was possible only because of my highly loving and generous uncle and aunt. Thank you so very much for a lovely stay [Chacha, I am not sucking up!].

Right now, I am heading to Austin, Texas. Excited but more nervous, I don’t exactly know what to feel. Not blessed with the company of a decently attractive woman like last time, I am still passing time wonderfully well. We will be landing in another 45 minutes or so, and then my soon-to-be-father cousin will pick me up. University of Texas tomorrow – I really can’t wait.

P.S. The “Angelina Jolie” in the title is also a publicity stunt to get more hits. :P
Oh Bharath (and all other faithful readers), I apologize for the constant bickering and justifications of my why my posts are turning out to be long.

Hindu Heritage-ness

2007-08-09T12:58:00.000-05:00

One of the first things I did on entering the US of A was the last thing I thought I would ever do – semi-attend a Hindu Heritage Camp. Initially I was quite bamboozled by the fact that Bloomington, Illinois, USA actually had a full out, fully Indian, hard core Hinduism camp. Organized by the HSS, the Hindu Heritage Camp aims to inculcate moral Indian values and the Hindu culture among the detached Indian American children, hoping to build bridges and bring them closer to their roots; by holding a 7 day overnight camp [for the older ones] and a 4 day overnight camp [for the younger ones], without sacrificing the concept of “fun” that every camp should ideally bring. Okay, that was the formal bit that I had to include. Anyway, these camps are held all over the US, so if you ever feel that you want to be a devout Hindu, but stay modern at the same time, just fly up to the US of A. Okay, enough advertising.

My cousin was attending the camp, and as I happened to be there at the same time, I was told to come along and see what it was all about. Still shocked with the fact that it was a Hindu camp, I didn’t know what to expect. Lots of Sadhu’s dressed in their yellow clothes-like stuff? Kids with their heads shaved off, besides the small pony tail they adorn that we all somehow mystically relate too? Cow worshipping? 100% strictly pure vegetarian food? 3’o clock rise and shines followed by Bhajan hymning? My uncle and aunty said: Anish, just come along.

On the first day, I was decently tired – I still obviously hadn’t fully recovered from the jet-lag, how much ever I would love to boast that I did and that I am too cool. So my first visit went in observation, and I thanked the mightiest form of the Hindu God for not making the camp overly serious. It was nowhere close to being extreme, but rather was a brilliant balance of fun and the Hinduism stuff. I was pleasantly surprised [yeah I know that sounds British] by how much the kids wanted to be there, and genuinely enjoyed the camp – my cousin has since been reading comics, Ramayan comics. The lunch and dinner was 100% pure vegetarian but was not always Indian food. It was multi-cultural: Mexican [Tacos], Italian [Lasagne] and Indian. I guess Hinduism also preached multi-culture-ism.

After the observation day, I somehow got myself entangled in semi-attending the next day, as a proper student. My uncle laughed when I politely, but reluctantly said yes to the ordeal. But then I thought about my whole “experience” philosophy, and how this would expose me to the Indian American culture, and how it would also bring along a little bit of Hindu enlightenment that I think I require, and converted the pessimism into semi-optimism. So the next morning, I got up at 5:30 AM and my uncle dropped me off to the camp where I started the day with a yoga session. I hadn’t warmed up and was stiff all over, so ended up straining my back, and internally I yelped in pain. Anyway it wasn’t that bad and I later ridiculed my internal-melo-dramatics. The physical conditioning followed the Yoga session. The children learnt Hindu martial arts, “Dandh” [fighting with a stick] and Hindu games. As I was new, I just got a lesson on the basics of using the “Dandh”. Fascinating. We then played games, Hindu games: stuff like “Vish Amrut” and “Kho Kho”. This rekindled my days in Aurangabad [a city next to Mumbai] where I played such games with my long lost friends – Sai! Vishal! Vaibhav! Those were the days [not a disturbed childhood Ali]!

It was then the turn of a preachy and boring lecture, in which half the class slept or got lost in his or her own worlds. After the boring lecture that preached about the basic concepts of “Adharma” and “Dharma” [i.e Bad and Good], it was time for musical instruments. Most students were into the percussions bit, and I was amused to see a Hindu form of written percussion beats. Fascinating. I didn’t contribute much; just continued to observe. Lunch followed [Tacos] and a sleeping or “relaxing” session followed the lunch. The yoga teacher quite literally made everyone fall asleep. I didn’t sleep because I thought I wasn’t supposed to. When the Yoga teacher asked us to get up, only 3 out of 20 people got up, and rest snored away. Bloody fascinating.

It was then time for me to escape and go play a cricket match for my Uncle’s team. To cut it short, it was no heroic day for me. We lost and I scored a golden duck. Slightly depressed, I returned back to the camp, and witnessed the “Talent” show. Yes it did showcase glimpses of talent, but was poorly organized [sound issues]. But all that did not matter, as everyone had fun, and the mums and dads loved seeing their children do crazy stuff. Oh I had to mention, one of the performances was a Hindu Bhajan rap accompanied by percussion; which was quite funked out and did not give anyone the slightest thought of it being a mockery, thank the mightiest form of the Hindu God again.

Now, this post is getting way too long, so it doesn’t really matter what I write, because most of you will most probably not reach this bit. But I still have to conclude this Mightiest-form-of-the-Hindu-God darn experience. It was fun and mighty fascinating. My first experience with American brewed Indian students and kids was pleasantly pleasant. I am still shocked at witnessing such an ardently preachy religious camp in the middle of the US of A. And guess what, it’s been on for 20 years. Something like this can never happen in Dubai. The power of democracy, I say.

P.S. I too don’t like long posts because they are too long and get draggy, and I therefore apologize for being a hypocrite. But somehow, for some reason I just felt like writing this, so deal with it.

End Of An Era: Epilogue

2007-08-03T14:38:00.000-05:00

Just when I thought nothing more could happen in the “wonderful” city of Dubai before I leave, a few Eastern people entered the fray and enthralled us. Ali, Tejas and Romit dropped me off at the airport [I feel the love guys], and Omar and NC just happened to be there too. Checked in, relaxed, I came out to say my final goodbyes. But before that there has to be a conversational, “hearty” build up you know. So we were talking about how these guys had done haram things before coming to the airport, and we just happened to be a little loud. An Eastern, Kazakhstani-type [not Filipino] couple got a bit annoyed. So the woman of the two, who obviously thought she was the hottest damn queen in the world, snapped at us rather impolitely: Could you please shut up? Now a weird ascent, and a high pitched high volume statement like that cannot be taken lightly, and thus, Omar semi-flipped. He snapped back [more politely than her] telling her that she could have been more polite. But then her ego came sliding in, and she retorted. We retorted too. She then randomly told us to go to the Indian Airport and talk loudly there. I think she was trying to insult us by making a racist comment. You pay for the tickets loser! But then she became more direct. She started yelling, and told us to “shut up our mouse” and go to “India/Pakistan” which she claimed to be the same things. She then called us all one “Indian Animal”. We on the other hand were not quiet, but we dared not to enter racist territory. We laughed at how angry those Eastern-asses were getting, and then we laughed more even more because they got even more annoyed with our mockingly “loud” laughter. Amidst all this laughter we did spray a few “Indian” insults [she was really asking for it]. Then her husband/friend/[really want to but will not use the profane word that I have thought of so you can fill in the meanest thing that comes into your head about Eastern Uzbekistani-type people] joined in. “I will shut up your mouth,” he said, acting all protective and cool. But we laughed. After a decent number of exchanges we got bored, so we calmed things down and walked away. But I tell you, it was an enthralling experience.

Right now I am flying to Chicago in an American Airlines flight, a happy man. Everyone has those hopes of getting a decently attractive person of the opposite sex sitting next to him and her. Today I had no hopes because whenever I did have such illusionary hopes, it only led to disappointment. But today, right now, things are different. I am partially enjoying the company of a fairly attractive German girl. She is next to me looking at the screen, but she says her English is not that very good. But if she is reading this I am kind off screwed. Anyway we have both just dealt with farewells and annual separations so it’s all cool! =)

I will reach Chicago in exactly 2 hours and 2 minutes. I hope I don’t get too jet-lagged. 8 hours of flying time with crappy in-flight entertainment is not that fun.

P.S. The whole enthralling first bit is not intended to be racist in any way, and I don’t intened to hurt anyone’s sentiments except for that wonderfully awful Eastern couple that entertained us in the most insulting of ways.

Romit & Tejas – I saw ‘Lucky You’. Drew is a bore, but Poker is a total score!

End Of An Era

2007-08-01T13:25:00.001-05:00

It’s 30 minutes before I leave, so this is going to be short. I just got off Facebook and MSN, after saying my e-goodbyes. I am still shaken by the “farewell” get together that took place at home. It started off normally; then slowly moved into gear. It then shifted to [in order] condoms and bananas [thanks Romit], pool, foosball, an unbelievably awesome gift, some Indian chat, truth and dare, stripping of my pants, some awesome Ishika-singing, ketchup massage by Ali on Romit’s head, Dad’s entry, Mum’s constant camera work, all the letters and finally, Ali’s “Never Say Goodbye”. Suddenly, it hit me. It hit me hard. It would probably never be the same again. Yes, we would see each other again and again, but time and distance are bitches. Yes, the “love” would be there, but our priorities will have changed – drastically. It would never be the same again - a temporary goodbye for sure, but a permanent end to a friggin’ era.

18 years and “era”? It almost doesn’t make sense. But together, we and alone, I have been through oh so much, done a billion things, had the loudest “output” laughs ever, fought like rabid dogs with egos clashing like Expelliarmus and Avada Kedavra, worked our butts of with Redial Entertainment without much compromise on fun, won the friggin’ Inter School Football Tournament against all odds, went to Burjuman and City Centre a record number of times, buried Romit in Jumeirah Beach, drifted away into another world at Poseidon’s Pier, given exams that we hated, seew my sister leave, seen my parents win the Best Parents In The Entire Universe Award, SFS-ed all year round, prepared for universities, dealt with separations, dropped Mcdonalds and the rest of the fast-food gang for a year, ate pizza, saw a bunch load of midnight premieres, grew our hair and shaved it off completely [Romit!], loved and hated school, loved and hated ourselves, but loved and loved each other. Always. This is my first ending. The final chapter of Part 1 of my life has concluded – time for Part 2.

Mum’s calling. She wants me rattle out the traditional Indian prayers, before heading out with my bags. My mouth smells a bit thanks to the garlic butter in the Shawarma I just had. Oh I am going to miss Shawarma. Tears wiped, goodbyes said [most], hugs hugged and bags packed – it’s Austin time.

P.S. Sonia, I told you I’d do my last entry whilst in Dubai. =)

Driving In Dubai: Beginners

2007-07-24T02:38:00.000-05:00

Today, I failed my first road test. Damn.

I got up in the morning, nervous as hell about two things: (1) Getting a cab at 8:30AM and (2) Hoping to conquer the Dubai RTA Ultimate Road Test. Adding to the nervousness, I cut myself while shaving. “It’s not a sign Anish, chill.” I devoured my banana, drank my milk, packed my bag and went down to catch a cab. Nervous Issue (1) was no problem at all – I got a cab in about 3 minutes, brilliant. Now that’s a sign, definitely very much 100% so, right? Wrong, “I don’t believe in signs” – maybe I should.

It was Nervous Issue (2)’s turn. But what was haunting me, were the "signs". I met this long lost friend who I used to play football with 8 years at the Emirates Driving Centre Road Test Centre. It was his second test and it turned out to be second time lucky for he, or he was plainly just a good driver. He told me they make you drive for literally two minutes; one left turn, one right turn, a couple of lane changes, parking and you are done. “Do that properly, and you’re through.” He buoyed me up with hope, hope that was previously, mysteriously dim. What these driving instructors do is that they scare the living pants off you, and say that the “Shoorteh” will fail you at the smallest possible error. Doing this is good to an extent, but seriously, everyone is crapping in their pants during their driving test due to this injection of paranoia, and that makes it tougher to pass than it should. One activity at a time is seriously enough. Crap time is later.

Anyway, I made my way into the EDC Test Car with my “Shoorteh” and my three other fellow compatriots. They had been waiting for me; apparently I had not heard my name the first time. “Anis KisHOre Malbani” on a not-so-clear mike can be slightly confounding. So I was late - That’s Bad Sign #2. There was this Chinese (or Japanese, definitely NOT Filipino] guy, this South Indian guy and the Paksitani guy, in the car along with me. The Chinese guy was first and he drove well. But I thought, “Hah! I can do better than that!” Semi-over-confidence = Bad Sign #3. He did well, and he did eventually pass. Next on the wheel – Me. I got of to a decent start and shifted into the third gear with supreme confidence. Apparently a confident driver [not a semi-over-confident driver] is a good driver. I took a right and then a left with sublime ease. Time to change lanes – easy stuff. I changed lanes twice quite expertly showing perfection beyond my years. Lane changing 3 – I somehow, quite unfortunately, forgot to look in the side mirror, and there just happened to be a car coming by next to me. I went for the turn, with a crafty smile on my face, and then suddenly, the “Shoorteh’s” hand jut into my sight, and he handled the wheel, saving us from “serious danger”. He failed me on that: “5. Applicant causing a serious danger (hazard)”. All my hopes of conquering the accident-filled Dubai Roads crashed away. I had one chance before I left for the US of A, and I had mucked it up. With a heavy heart and a heavier bag, I got an empty cab quicker than I have ever before in my life. Obviously. Bloody signs!

The South Indian was an okay driver, but a little confused in the head. The Pakistani guy was pathetic. His car stopped in the middle of the road, and the poor bugger let his nervousness get the better of him. So fate or some other shit made one Chinese/Japanese guy euphoric, and three Sub-Continental guys miserable today. I called mum and told her the bad news and she laughed, not out of ridicule, but out of the sheer feeling that I was teasing her. She was like, “How can you fail Anish? Don’t kid me.” I am like I just did fail Maa! That didn’t help, but then that’s motherly love.

Dad called a few minutes later. I recited the story, and he was like you deserved it. Thanks Dad – like a true father. =) And then he dropped the bomb: “Anish I just met someone who could have helped you getting your license, like 5 minutes ago.” No bloody way. “Fate,” right? I guess but “I don’t believe in fate” – maybe I should. Ahh life! What's really annoying is that even though the UAE has such an intense driving program, where passing the Road Test is quite a task for people, there are still such rash drivers on the road, and the number of road accidents taking place in Dubai is nothing to be proud of either.

Anyway, on a more positive note, I don’t really need the license. I am leaving the country for good in 9 days. I might as well get my driving license in the US of A. But failure is in general pissing off, especially when the past two and a half months have gone in learning how to drive. So what was it exactly? I had 3 Bad Signs, and 2 Good Signs. Oh, so the Bad prevailed over the Good? Right.

P.S. Don’t get thrown away by the “perfection beyond my years” bit. I am not that great a driver, only average. The “perfection beyond my years” was to instill a little drama which is greatly inspired by JK Rowling’s writing style.

“Oh Harry!”

2007-07-20T14:51:00.000-05:00

Right. So I saw Harry Potter 5, and no, I didn’t take a pencil and a notepad with me, but I didn’t love the movie either. It was a midnight-er, as in a midnight show, a-weird-Dubai-“premiere” type of thing. Anyway, Romit was really excited and was hitting falsettos quite often. Tejas was there and Ali wasn’t. 3 girls accompanied us – woohoo, yeah? But two were out of place and made the third feel out of place, so you do the math.

Anyway, the movie was okay-ish. The script was poor and Emma Watson cannot act. Nor can Danny-boy. So if your leads are messed up, it is, in no way, going to be a good movie. Emma is supposed to be hot, or well “cute” and supposedly “smart” in her role, but here she is more like a blond-ish bimbo saying some cheap, corny lines. Very disappointed, Emma tut tut. I think it’s high time you learn from Megan (Fox, you can’t-relate-to people). Yes Radcliffe was better than before, but if his previous exploits were rated Z, his current one would be given an F- : an improvement; but still crappy. Rupert Grint is the savior, or well would have been the savior if he had more lines. Crappy acting, marred with major plot holes and pure ignorance, Harry Potter fans should be quite disappointed.

On the positive side, I loved the camera-work, and the cinematography was quite brilliant. Obviously, it was nothing compared to Transformers, but the Voldemort v/s Dumbeldore was beautifully done; props to the director on that.

So I’d say, watch HP5. Hell, watch it in the theatres! Not because it’s great, but because it’s Harry Potter. It’ll help you make conversation, and also gives you a fun topic to blog on.

Yeah, recently, this blog is more of a movie-review website than anything else, and I apologize to those readers that have still remained faithful. It’s just that there is so much going on at present, that I cannot choose something concrete enough to blog on, as in without sounding too cheesy or too melodramatic in my posts. Movie reviews seem safe. Or I’m just being lazy. No no, I have too much to do!

I am going to try and get back to reading HP6 now. I have restarted that darned book to get into the whole “Potter Mania” again. It’s just that I have been faithful to Rowling, and want to finish the saga with as much enthusiasm as I read HP1, i.e. continue to be faithful [hint hint]. Also, it could also be that I have forgotten most of what happened in the 6^th book, so I want to get a heads up before the 7^thone arrives. But that’s similar to the whole getting into the “Potter Mania” bit, yeah? Damn. “Whatever”.

Till more personal posts.

P.S. At least this update was faster than the earlier one.

Transformation

2007-07-12T14:31:00.000-05:00

Yes, I haven’t blogged in quite a while – a thousand apologies.

Yes, I said I would get back to you on the best-est film of the recent past “Transformers”, so here I am.

Yes, I have been a tad bit lazy with the blogging scene, and I am a little late with the “Transformers” review, but screw that.

Yes, here come a bunch load of “I”s.

I attended the midnight show at Al Ghurair with a few friends and Ali, the biggest Transformers fan ever [please contact me if you wish to contest that statement, seriously]. I made it a point to sit next to him to absorb all his enthusiasm and it paid of. I clapped for the movie, I clapped. It has been a while since I have really enjoyed enjoyed a movie, but “Transformers” changed all that. From the beginning to then end, you cannot take your eyes of the friggin’ screen. The movie draws you towards it like the legs of sexy lady. The humour, the direction, Megan Fox, the acting, the heart and the out-of-this-world cinematography will hit you so hard, that there is nothing else you can do but clap or stare in disbelief or stare in awe or act as if you have suddenly become the biggest “Transformers” fan in the world.

“Transformers” has set a new, as-tall-as-Burj-Dubai high standard of film-making; if not for film-making then definitely for special effects. The intricacy and the accuracy with which each frame is done is mind-blowing. 38 hours to do render each frame of CG – that itself says a ton. Hats off to Industrial Light & Magic for pulling off the near impossible. The way these Autobots and Decepticons transform is sublime. The sound effects and the animation is beautifully intertwined to pull off a magnificently pleasing look. How the bloody hell can you make robots lovable [besides cartoon/animation – that doesn’t count]?

The acting is decent too – Shia Labeouf, the lead guy, is funny and more importantly NOT annoying. The robot voiceovers are spot on and the evil, tiny spy Decepticon so cleverly crafted that I want to personally blow the beetles out of him. The only minor flaw that I can maybe point my dirty little finger on is the direction in some of the fight scenes. Mr Bay, a few long shots of these giant robots wouldn’t have done any harm.

A special paragraph must be devoted to Megan Fox. Megan Fox is pure hotness. Her heat blew the life out of me. She is beautiful and sexy. WOW! I would go watch the movie only for her! No seriously, Megan is the next, big thing. Okay well the next, petit, nice, hot, beautiful thing or woman to take Hollywood by storm. Screw Hollywood, the world! I can imagine Bin Ladin and crew enjoying her every move. Ahh Megan, if only every woman was like you. Piss off Ali.

However, everything wasn’t woo-hoo-haa-haa. The movie de-motivated me when it comes to film-making. It was so, so well made, as a film, that any budding film-maker would either be highly inspired or go how the hell can anyone pull that off? I am in the latter phase, maybe sometime later I’ll switch to the former. But for now, I really need to go watch this movie again, in the theatres, because it is a must.

P.S. Talking about “transformation”, life’s current transformation is finally sinking in. Shit. I will blog soon. Mother promise.
Also, Harry Potter 5 is next.

SHOOFTV Competition

2007-06-17T09:23:00.000-05:00

We, as in Redial Entertainment, have entered an amateur film-making competition that is taking place in the U.A.E. To cut to the point, we have made it to the quarter-finals, and are two steps away from winning. Our progression depends on your voting, and therefore any support will be appreciated.

So if you like our videos, and you would like to vote for us, please vote for us in the following way(s):

[NOTE: Voting is possible only on TUESDAY, JUNE 19^TH, 2007 FROM 12:00 AM TO 6:00 PM]

Go to http://www.shooftv.com/sq11.aspx, see our video submission, follow instructions and VOTE!
Follow instructions on this post which are the same ones as the ones on the official website. VOTE by:

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Thank you for all your support guys, and I sincerely hope you will bless us with at least one vote!

P.S. Seriously, thank you for your support.

Fantasticated!

2007-06-17T08:48:00.000-05:00

Okay, this time there was no crazy build-up and there were no freaky-fun occurrences before we entered Cinestar Cinema 01 to watch Fantastic Four 2 – Rise Of The Silver Surfer on the fate-less 15^th night of June, apart from the race in which Tejas kicked our asses because he took a less crowded route. We had Rohit Kataky in our company, and his crazy-hippie appearance did turn a few heads towards us. We smuggled in some drinks that we had previously bought from Carrefour, and Romit was bamboozled when he found out that his 500 ml Coke was 2 dirhams compared to the 1 dirham that my 1500 ml Aquafina water cost. Also, Romit bought pop corn and almost missed the trailers – almost.

So basically, I am going to jump right into the “review”. Fantastical the Second is worth a watch! It’s much better than Spiderman 3 in the sense that it’s much shorter, more gripping, and more exciting. The action and the cinematography is as good as the Spidey flick if not better. Yes, there are a few corny dialogues, but it’s a superhero movie so that’s rather expected. The acting is okay. Jessica Alba is a Goddess dropped from the great heavens above. Truly, God bless you, and God, bless yourself too for creating Her. Also, the movie was genuinely funny at times. Silver Surfer is super-cool! Dr Von Doom is an idiot. The Human Torch kicks some real ass. Basically I really enjoyed it on the whole - a really good Superheroes flick to kick off the crazy block-buster-filled summer up ahead. Harry Potter 5, Transformers [ALI!], Shrek The Third, Ocean’s 13 and so on are all very exciting prospects.

Ooh, one to watch out for is Transformers. Apparently it won the most anticipated summer blockbuster MTV Movie Award over Fantastication, Harry Puther and the other rot. Apparently Michael Bay has cut out the corny-ness and made Transformers more real, shrewd, mature and hopefully cinematographically and brilliantly brilliant. I am looking forward to it, but I don’t think anyone is looking forward to it more than Ali Yar Khan is.

Okay, that was short and quick, so basically my ultimate message is: WATCH IT! And it’s a theatre movie so, WATCH IT IN THE THEATRES!

Till transformation!

P.S. Ali missed the Fantastic Four 2 experience. Idiot.

Constructiveness V/S Laziness

2007-06-17T08:05:00.000-05:00

For the past few days, or rather weeks, or well months, okay, 2 ½ months – I have been busy. Not the “OMG-I-am-so-cool”-type busy, genuinely busy. Redial Entertainment is ruling my world, and so is salsa and so is the Nissan Sunny that I learn to drive every other morning. Also, obviously, I am not going to for any reason, sacrifice fun. So add that to the equation, and it becomes fun-busy.

However procrastination is a common practice, and when you have lots to do, it is not cool. Why? It adds to the tension, finally sums up to last minute hysteria and the school exam days come storming into your brain. So knowing all this, when you do procrastinate when you know you have work to do, off goes your head. You have this urge to be over-constructive, and do megatons of work. But at the same time you need your space, and you need time to just chill, because you are on a friggin’ “holiday”.

So, basically, in this battle of constructiveness and laziness, neither wins. What helps is a balance of both the extremes. Currently that’s what I am enjoying, and the feeling is brilliant. Life’s good. Besides getting my daily meals, I am also self-employed in a potentially prosperous business. The love-life is getting very interesting. University stuff is mostly sorted out, and the only headache that remains in the US Visa. Salsa is the best thing that has happened to me so far. I will soon be a licensed driver [hopefully]. Yeah, I could do with a little more exercise and a little more football, but I have July for that. Mum wants me to stop working and practice mind peace. July, Mum, JULY! Happy Father’s Day Dad!

P.S. I haven’t written for a long time and I apologize. But I had this urge to tread on philosophical grounds, so screw you if it’s too damn clichéd-ly emotionally philosophical for you!

Aerosmith Was AEROSMITH BABY!

2007-06-03T03:02:00.000-05:00

We should have done as our tradition has always told us to do: We should have come a good 8 hours before the concert and created “the line” outside the venue, and made sure that we got ramp-standing space, right in the front. We should have over-enjoyed the freakiness and the sexual nature that Stevie Tyler brings along with his Aerosmith. We should have over-enjoyed Joe Perry smacking his guitar with his shirt, mocking the aspect that his guitar was on fire. Ali should have gotten Joe’s pick! But we didn’t follow tradition. Thanks to Modern High.

It’s almost a tradition. I NEED to blog about the concerts I attend. But this one is more about what happened before and after.

What a wonderful day it was going to be! Prize Day, and then Aero-friggin-Smith! The morning swept past by me digging myself into the most high-profile project that Redial Entertainment has ever received. I then got ready for the most prestigious, but boring day in the Modern High calendar: Prize Day. I tried my utmost best to fix my hair, and partially recover from the disastrous hair cut that I had had the day before. I was loving my hair till then - it was longish, but I couldn’t possibly have attended Prize Day with hair like that, I mean it would have been “such a sin”. I was reminded thrice to cut my hair, for this great, prestigious day. ONE day.

Anyway, this was the plan: Prize Day would finish at 7:30 PM, and the seven of us would immediately transport our battuties to the Aerosmith arena in two cars - simple and cool!

I entered school with my parents and my grandmother, and the first thing the Admin staff of our school did was blatantly disrespect and insult my parents. And something like that hurts, when you have given 9 years of faithful service to the school, and when you are also winning one of the most prestigious special awards of the school. Ahh, well, life! I was visibly disturbed by this, and exhaustion and work-stress made everything even worse - apologies to those who did see my reaction.

Anyway, the “plan” hadn’t even begun as yet, and things were not smooth. Then the “Prinicpal’s Address” kicked in and lasted an entire hour. It was 7:15 PM and Prize Day was no where close to getting over. When a gazillion little children had received their awards, and when the special awards were out of the way, the clock hit 8:30 PM. Brilliant. The after-Prize-Day celebrations/confusion when everyone greets everyone [aww, how sweet] and when the guys can officially mingle with the girls without too many eyebrows being raised. At 9:00 PM we found out that or other transportation wouldn’t be able to make it, and obviously we hadn’t left yet. So it left us with one small car, seven people and one hour to reach the concert in heavy truck-filled traffic.

Now 6 of the 7 people that were in the small car were in no way small. Tejas was the tiny one, so he got onto Ali’s comfortable lap, and Romit put me on his lap. And thus began the journey. Our joy was unprecedented, we fitted in! But then traffic hit us like a bolt from the blue. Ali hit depression, and I started panicking. We got frantic phone calls from friends already at the concert: Where the fuck are you guys? Sonu [he was spotting, as in spotlighting Stevie Tyler – WOW]!

The concert was supposed to begin at 10, and we reached there only at 10:15 PM. Shit. But Dubai has a habit of being late in general, so the concert began only at like 10:30. We had decent tickets, so we pushed our way into a decent spot, and enjoyed the concert. Cryin’ and Miss A Thing were brilliant! Dream On was also good, but could have been better. Stevie, the sexual beast that he is, was seemingly up to his best. Humping anything and everything he could, and screaming and dancing whenever he could, he is a true entertainer, and the soul of Aerosmith. And the funkiest thing about him is that he makes even the stupidest thing look cool. Now that’s talent. His voice is brilliant, and his vocal chords are clearly the strongest chords in the world. He screams like a banshee which only inspires the audience to try and do the same, and he does this without an after-damage to his voice. Yeah, he was entertaining. Joe Perry is a handsome man, but after what Ali said, it’s like he is trying too hard. Oh, and they had these fans on stage, blowing onto their faces, and blowing their long hair in an outward direction. Basically it made them look really cool. Amidst the craziness of Stevie, the concert did have a few lows. They didn’t play “Pink” nor did they play “Rag Doll” nor did they play “Janie’s Got A Gun”, so that left a few disappointed. It was friggin’ hot, but somehow I enjoyed sweating that day - it gives you the whole “wet”, you-are-enjoying-the-concert look.

The concert finished. More shit happened, and the highly eventful shitty-good day ended.

P.S. Contradictory emotions are bad because the good seems to fade away. At least it did on this day.

End Of The ISC Memoirs

2007-05-20T19:03:00.000-05:00

So the ISC/ICSE results came out on Saturday. And as usual they were unbelievably, mind-blowingly, earth-shatteringly and dramatically awesome. Modern High “broke barriers” and is simply “the best”. The ICSE Modern High marks kicked the biggest possible butt ever with almost 50% of the students getting over 90%. Bloody hell.

For those of you who followed my “ISC Memoirs Saga”, my predictions were semi-right. Unmukt who bet his life-savings on himself took most of the gold home. His 98.5% did blow him, me and the rest of the world away, except that young lady somewhere in India who felt that 98.5% wasn’t enough so got herself a 98.75%. Wow, and insane. 17 people committed suicide when they found out that Shrivats did not top, and placed only fourth – apparently they ran into major financial losses as a consequence of the result. Another 17 suffered a heart-attack when they found out that Kaushik Mohan successfully dethroned his brother Shrivats in the loving competition that exists between the two. In a post-result conference, my sources have told me that Kaushik seemed visibly disturbed on having beaten his brother, and refused to accept the fact that he could pull off such a feat. I applaud him for his valour and his brains, but here’s a warning for the random reader, Kaushik is overly-sensitive about his brotherly-dethronement, so handle with care. And umm, yeah life and people and their emotions [like in the example above] can be confuddling.

Govind did himself proud and Bharath placed only 8^th with his 95.75%. Also, Ali and Anjali got the same marks in Computers. Only if you had attended the pre-exam conferences would you understand how crazy that is. And because of Tejas, his odds and his corresponding result, I am a rich man today. Also, Ali apparently lost 5 marks in Maths for sure, but still ended up with a 99. Kudos to him, but a “WTF” to the ISC. Oh yeah, “standardization”. Please refer to Bharath to get a thesis on how messed up the English marks were. Apparently the stupider you are the higher marks you get. Ahh, life! The boys as usual overshadowed the girls and Mrs Balachandran won the “Great Eco Battle”. Congratulations to her. Also, the science batch officially kicked the commerce batch’s bum - as usual.

Sunday – Today Modern High broke another record: Highest ever calorie consumption in the history of schooling and education in 24 hours. The whole of the 10^th grade and a major chunk of the 12^th grade of ’07 bought and distributed the most number of chocolates and sweets…EVER. Our Principal can officially open his own sweet-factory and sir, Redial Entertainment is willing to sponsor. The dissemination of calories was fascinating. Now let the stomach’s fold!

School is almost out – it will officially be over for us after Prize Day, which just happens to be on the same day as the Aerosmith concert. Modern High always did muck up its dates. And no I have nothing philosophical to add here.

Otherwise, I and we have been painfully busy, but earning blissfully well ( I love you Romit!). We learnt a few things over the past few days: there are good people in this world, real good ones, and that hard work pays, always – both emotionally and materialistically, in someway or the other. Straying from life’s greatest lessons (yeah go ahead and roll your eyes), Salsa and driving are also happening. Both started of really well, but have now reached that stagnant phase where you can’t help but think that you suck.

Meanwhile, Facebook continues to rock our world: http://www.albumoftheday.com/facebook/ - [to see when boredom gets the better of you]

P.S. Yes it has been long since I have blogged. Work – lots of!
Harry’s recommended: “Paolo Nutini” is a must hear if acoustic guitar-ish, scruffy voice, “emo” lyrics, etc is your thing. Awesome voice - I like! Thanking thee Harry.

Tararumpum Can Go Up My Friggin’ Bu – Ass!

2007-05-07T14:21:00.001-05:00

Just when the world thought Bollywood was turning a new leaf, Tararumpum had to come along and spoil the party, and that’s putting it nicely. It also quite happily screwed what seemed to be a constructive, good day for my family and me.

Shitty dialogue, poor screenplay, un-noteworthy acting, no storyline and one hell of a long stomach ache, Tararumpum is a movie I will not forget because it has set a very high standard of crap-film-making. Inspired by Disney’s “Cars”, Tararumpum has set a milestone in film making – it is successfully the first movie in the history of film to be more un-realistic than an animation flick.

The biggest mistake I made was not taking a pencil and a notepad to the theatre to note the down the amount of bullshit that was rolling on the screen. From the put-on-didn’t-work American accent of Saif Ali Khan, to Rani Mukherjee’s fake-r “likes” in making an effort to mock the American bimbo, from the inability of Indian cinema to portray a simple lip-lock on screen [they faked a kiss in a Christian marriage that two Hindus were having – the whole back-against-the-screen method of faking], to the new boundaries reached in long-distance communication where the NASCAR driver had a successful conversation with his wife in the crowd of 100,000, 100 metres away, and from the $65,000 removal of glass-piece from a child’s stomach [an open-heart surgery package costs $30,000], to the reality television show “Don’t Worry, Be Happy”, 99% of the film was pure rubbish.

The 1% of decent stuff included some decently shot NASCAR scenes and the little girl who played Saif’s daughter. But apart from that, why? Why would you make such a film? Why would you pay so much of money to make something so poor? This is why Bollywood really pisses the shit out of me.

Why did I go for this movie? My Granny is in town, and this was supposedly our family’s idea of entertainment. However, Mum almost fell asleep during the course of the film and Grand Ma was busy trying to figure out when the movie would actually start making sense. Dad was just cursing the fact that he instigated this plan, and I was organizing transport for football practice tomorrow morning.

Otherwise the day was constructive. Football in the morning was good fun [a few of us ex-students go early morning to school to play football with the current school team], and I finally got my driving classes figured out. Apparently, I am also going to start Salsa classes tomorrow. I had a haircut too – a not-happening haircut.

P.S. If you still plan to go watch this movie, please don’t forget to carry a pencil, a notepad and your iPod. Enjoy.

Spidey 3

2007-05-02T18:41:00.000-05:00

We caught the first show of Spiderman 3 here, in Dubai. Midnight screenings are fun, unless sleepy-ness gets the better of you. Ali, Tejas and I went at about 10.45 pm to make sure we get decent seats, but we got only okay ones. Romit and the rest watched Manchester United lose. Brilliant. Tejas was as hyper as ever. This movie meant a lot to him, and he couldn’t keep shut before or after the film. I understand and enjoy the enthusiasm. Ali was also excited, but was busy texting “someone” pretty much through out the movie.

We met a couple of young Indians, who in appearance, were like us. One of them annoyed the living hell out of Tejas because he claimed to know more about Spiderman than Tejas did. Apparently he saw 11 trailers, which included some “illegal” ones, and claimed that his knowledge of ol’ Spidey was bigger than the size of the theatre. Right. Tejas wasn’t amused.

The movie began after Ali had freaked out over the Transformers trailer. It started slightly slowly, but picked up some hardcore pace towards the end. Tobey Mcguire was only okay, and Dunst wasn’t any better. I liked Topher Grace [the “Eric” dude from That Seventies Show who plays Venom in this flick], and Franco [Green Goblin 2] and Sandman were all good. The fight scenes were brilliantly brilliant. The direction of the action scenes was perfect, and the cinematography topped even the direction. Yes, it had its Bollywood moments, which annoyed me, which in turn annoyed Ali – who promised never to sit next me for a movie because I can’t handle the badly-done “senti”mental scenes. Sorry Ali, but how can you not laugh at fake-ness!

After-movie discussions were a little weird. Tejas was still mad at the young-Indian-who-apparently-claimed-to-know-more-about-spiderman-than-anyone-else-did. Apparently the fact that he wasn’t the best, haunted Tejas throughout the film, so, after, he couldn’t stop talking about how and why he knew more about the Spider than anyone else did. Ali was still pissed off with my inability to handle badly shot “senti”mental scenes. I tried keeping my trap shut for as long as I could. We argued and fought. To conclude, I liked the movie, Ali liked the movie a little more and Tejas considered it to be the best damn thing ever. I wonder what he’ll say after watching Fantastic Four.

P.S. Manchester United lost, and that just added to the fun. =D

A Small World

2007-04-27T06:16:00.000-05:00

Yes, we all know how the internet has made the world smaller and more connected and more accessible, and yes everything is “a click away” and all that rot. But when this cliché hits you like a bullet rattling a can, you suddenly start to realize how small this 510,065,600 km² of Earth is.

Facebook is God. It keeps outdoing itself, and is one of the main reasons as to why this world has shrunk. Having gotten admission at University of Texas-Austin, I decided to “Facebook” potential university-mates. I quite easily bounced upon a few Facebook Groups - “UT Class of 2011”, “UT Internationals”, “UT Desis” and so on, which basicallty consisted of similar direction-ed people. Exciting. Very exciting. Obviously, the obvious formalities with a few obviously random people were exchanged [obviously, a little more with the opposite sex]. And obviously, everyone part of this “exchange” was trying to figure out how exactly the other is. Is he/she a player? Smart? Stupid? Attitude-filled? Boring? Fun? Interesting, but-keep-your-distance type? Gay? Loud? Over-enthusiastic? Potential-filled? Cute? Ugly? Yup, it’s bloody exciting. But then there is always a limit to how much you can get from a few typed messages and with a few looking-good pictures of people. However it does make you feel [or rather, will make me feel] a little less of a stranger when you do land into “the new world”.

All this is all “cool and all” and fine, the world is “small” and all, bla bla, but it’s when you start finding weird connections with the most random people that makes the “small world” theory a lot more interesting. I found this person, who lived most of her life in Dubai, moved to Texas a while ago and is going to the same university as me. I didn’t know her when she was here, but Udai did, and a few more of my decently close friends also did. Hell we already have something in common! Then this other dude, who is currently in Bahrain, and is going to UT-Austin, knows a long lost random friend of mine who I was once half close to. Apparently the dude and this long lost friend knew each other in Bahrain when they were babies [somehow]. Wow. See, it’s fascinating. Oh, and Facebook also helped me come across a person residing in Dubai heading for UT, and she turned out to be a friend of a friend! WOW. These things blow me away. The world is bloody small. It is weirdly interconnected, perfectly imperfect and it never fails to amuse. Yeah I know I have said this more than enough already but all this makes the future bloody exciting. It’s exciting to restart your life, re-build your reputation and meet a whole new breed of people, and clash with a whole new type of life.

Tejas then made everything a little emotional. I was Facebooking – going through fellow Longhorns, when he said, ‘Shit Anish, in a year or two, you are gonna be hanging out with those people [pointing to the screen]. They are gonna be your new Romits, Alis, Harrys and Tejases, and we are gonna be heading down our own paths, with only memories binding us together.’

Apart from being small, the world also moves bloody fast.

P.S. The last “fast” bit would be more appropriate with respect to life, but hey, I needed to connect things. Also, the late post is because I have weirdly, crazily busy doing work, and also tossing a bit of fun in the mix. And also, I used "bloody" 4 times. Sorry Didi!

AUS & Dubai & My Weird Way Of Connecting The Two

2007-04-19T16:35:00.001-05:00

UAE and Universities don’t make sense to me. I thought UAE could not have a good university, or rather does not have a good university. American University of Dubai seems to have a decent campus, but somehow the people and the atmosphere just exude negative vibes. The Knowledge Village is not appealing at all (maybe Dubai Academic City will be, but I won’t be here). Skyline, ACD and others just seem to have a blah feel. I don’t know how and why I have reached such un-researched and arrogant conclusions, but I just don’t like the idea of studying here.

American University of Sharjah changed that a little (we [Redial Entertainment] had a show there). The University is beautiful. The humongous-ly huge campus, the 1000-seater-state-of-the-art Auditorium, the Pizza-Hut-Burger-King food court, the spacious areas where you can just sit and the artistic dome-like structures [buildings] just blew my wits away. Finally, a university in the UAE almost seemed worthwhile to study in. Almost.

No doubt I was impressed by AUS, but I still can’t ever imagine studying in this country. It’s not like I hate Dubai, or this country, I just seem to be sick of it. I hate the restrictions. I hate how our Indian school segregates boys and girls (now how does something like that not promote homosexuality?). I hate how the Dubai Police once ordered us to go to our houses and get some sleep when they saw us outside our houses with a camera at 3:00 AM in the night. I hate how spoilt we are with everything being available to us at the snap of our fingers, I hate how superficial people here can be. I hate the local taxis. I hate the Dubai Public Transport (the other emirates almost seem to be public-transport-less), Dubai Shopping Festival is the most traffic-filled pain-in-the-ass ever. Basically I need to get out of here. Yeah, some of the above generalizations can be viewed as “unfair” and “arrogant” and “debatable” to the random reader, yeah, some of the above statements can be applied to any place, and yeah, right now a lot of negative energy is flowing through my veins, but I can’t help but get annoyed with Dubai & UAE.

It’s not that I hate everything about Dubai – the tax-free life rocks. Dubai has 6 months of gorgeous weather. We do get spoilt by watching big names perform live in Dubai with ease and at a relatively low price. I love my friends here in Dubai and will miss them loads once I leave. But all that’s not good enough right now.

I am really excited about Texas-Ausin.

P.S. Wow, this was supposed to be more of a AUS-related post. Please forgive the arrogance and the over-use of “I”.

Taxis & Dubai

2007-04-12T02:51:00.001-05:00

There are probably a million different taxi-supplying agencies in Dubai, and probably a billion taxis roaming the streets, but getting one taxi for myself, a 18 year old, brown Indian, is many a time, near impossible. Fine, yes I am exaggerating a little, but only a little.

Let me start again. There are 5 major taxi suppliers: Dubai Transport, Cars Taxis (“Cars” – yeah I know taxis are cars painted up, but that’s one non-sensical shitty name), National Taxis, Golden (really?) Taxis & Gulf Radio Taxis (hai?). They supply a good number of taxis for the small city that is Dubai. Hell, these stupid taxis make up a big chunk of the dreaded traffic that is partially drowning Dubai.

Okay, there are a good number of taxis, then why does getting one taxi at 11:00 AM on a Thursday in Deira for an 18 year old, brown Indian seem as impossible as men conquering Mars? Empty cabs go by, without as much as glancing at you, so the finger that is upright also becomes redundant. Some half-decent ones that at least stop, say that they have to go pray, or that they are being awaited by someone else. Fine, but if I was this stunning blonde, with enough exposed skin to light up any man-eyes, the “praying” and the “awaited persons” would disappear, right? And getting a taxi won’t be that big a problem. Here I talk with experience. A few months back, a fellow Indian cab driver with an empty cab drove right past my wavering hand. I was like fine, he must be going home. But then he suddenly stopped 50 yards ahead of me, for this considerably fair woman. Wow, a fellow countryman betraying his own people - very confuddling.

Going to Sharjah by cab is not a possibility. However white you are, Sharjah is a big no-no for taxi-drivers. It’s not like they aren’t allowed to go there, but they just won’t – “too much traffic”. Yes I sympathize with them, when it comes to traffic and shit, but it’s their friggin’ job! They are meant to take people from one place to the other, irrespective of whether the bill is 5 dirhams or 500 dirhams, or whether there is heavy traffic or not. Fine, these poor bastards are not paid that well, and are exploited, but taking it out on their passengers is not nice.

Every cab driver I have been with is always on the brink of bursting out. The way these drivers abuse their fellow road-buddies is more than hilarious. Fine, these guys are visibly stressed, but when they act racist with their own people, it’s not cool. Every taxi-driver wants a pretty passenger who wants to be taken from Deira to Abu Dhabi on Friday at 9:00 AM. But that’s so not happening.

I can’t wait to drive. It will be quite a relief not relying on these turned on, racist tax-drivers. But then a whole new problem will unfold – parking. Bloody hell!

P.S. The metro will help! I can’t wait for that to kick in, but I won’t be here to experience it. The Public Buses and their routes suck. Shit, everything seems useless when it comes to transport and Dubai.

A Tribute To An Economist

2007-04-08T16:25:00.000-05:00

Mrs. Usha Balachandran taught me the brilliant subject that is Economics in Grades 11 and 12. Ma’am was always on top of her game, from explaining convoluted concepts of DMRS to lecturing us on morality and on the principles of life. But what separates her from the rest is that she is a true entertainer of her own sorts. Her one-liners would crack up the entire classroom even at its deadliest hour, and a subsequent little chuckle from ma’am would convert the heated class-discussion into a light-hearted rapport. We enjoyed Economics, and besides all the fun, Mrs Balachandran worked hard for us and drove us to do well. The amount of reference material we received was overwhelming, but what mattered to us was that she would have us fried if we didn’t perform. Believe me, a threat like that works. Thank you Ma’am for everything. =)

The Modern High Economics Boys Batch of 2006-07 will never forget:

“You will deal with me, not Amartya Sen.” – Mrs Balachandran

“Comb your hair properly and everything will be in place.” – Mrs Balachandran to Aaron Gomes for his incomplete work.

“One swallow does not make a summer.” – Mrs Balachandran

“You like to be seen even in the dark, as light bulbs.” – Mrs Balachandran to Zafar Bava, Akshay Mehta and Amir who returned late to class as they were busy handling the lights and sound in the school auditorium.

“It’s good to be Malabari sometimes.” – Mrs Balachandran

“Your respect does not add feathers to my hat, I don’t wear one.” – Mrs Balachandran to us, after punishing us, despite our efforts to reconcile.

“When I said 2 minutes work, I did not mean 1 minute, 30 seconds!” – Mrs Balachandran to Zafar Bava, holding up his inadequate homework.

“Don’t clean your eraser on my school wall.” – Mrs Balachandran to Mansoor Ali Khan on 7^th of September, 2006.

“I have such a vast ocean in front of me, I don’t know how I am going to cover it.” – Mrs Balachandran commenting on our 2^nd term portion.

“You are a new player to the game, unlike all the seasoned professionals.” – Mrs Balachandran to Abhinav Sinha for not completing his homework for the first time.

“Economics is maths.” – Mrs Balachandran, when we were about to begin the chapter on Statistics.

“You are drowning and pulling me down with you.” – Mrs Balachandran to Sunny Rajput when he received low marks in his Economics exam.

“Guesstimates” – Mrs Balachandran’s word to describe something even more inaccurate than estimates.

“I thought peeping was a bad habit.” – Mrs Balachandran when Dr. Khan interrupted the class to point out that Harendra Kapur was sleeping.

"If the marks are there, I can weave, I can spin…” Mrs Balachandran on recommendation letters.

“If you have thrown it out, I will throw you out.” – Mrs Balachandran to Ameya Chatim when he told Ma’am that he had thrown out his Holiday Homework.

“Don’t stab him from the back, stab him face on!” Mrs Balachandran to Arnav Jhunjhunwala for pinching Nawaz Kazi from behind.

“Take IT for instance, hardware is no where.” Mrs Balachandran talking about international trade.

“If we don’t do this, then the Government of India won’t earn any money.” – Mrs Balachandran to us, when she was explaining ‘Sources of Revenue’ to us.

“No one’s going to become an actor on Broadway. If you become, I will cut my right ear off.” – Mrs Balachandran (obviously, when she was furious) to Harendra Kapur when he was not paying attention in class.

Harry you need to get back to Ma’am on that last one. By the way, please note that the quotes quoted above are very accurate. Tejas, Unmukt and I made a note of them in class, behind my notebook, since the day they started amusing us. Ahh, I’ll miss our Eco classes. Not now, not yet, but soon.

P.S. The “India” post can wait, and umm, Superman is the coolest superhero ever.

A Live Crash-Course on the NBA

2007-04-06T16:45:00.000-05:00

I am admittedly a little blogstipated. It’s just that I don’t want to rant about how everyone is leaving, and how I am supposedly “lonely” and all that rot. So I choose to blog about NBA Live 07.

Firstly, it is highly weird to see any computer game besides the Fifa franchise or the PES franchise installed on my computer, but the reason why this NBA game has successfully fought its way into my Godly-awesome computer is that I know two shits about the NBA, i.e. nothing about the NBA.

Now I have decided to head to States, Austin-Texas to be precise, to take up Sport Management as my undergrad degree. Yeah I love sport, and sport fascinates me bla bla, but two sports that I genuinely hate are American Football and Baseball. I can’t pinpoint any reason, and yeah you can screw me on my stubborn-ness, but keeping all that aside, this hatred of mine needs to change. My brain needs to sprout a new leaf that will embrace these “sports”, one being a wrestling-wannabe of Rugby, and the other just a mockery of throw-your-bat-Cricket. Basketball, on the other hand, - I play it. I don’t love it, but I am somewhat starting to like it, thanks to NBA Live 07.

NBA, in general, is energy personified. Players running up and down the court, flying towards the hoop and dunking their buttuties off, is quite a sight. The fakes, the moves, and the crowd’s grooves, makes the sport seem so fun. The commentators make it even better - bloody good, they are. Ask Tejas. The spirit is glaringly overflowing, and there is this distant equality among the teams. Yes, there are the usual favorites and the supreme teams, but it’s almost like every team seems to have half a chance of upsetting the giants. Good shit, quite contrary to Cricket. Upsetting India doesn’t count, they suck. Oh wow, that’s something to blog about. Later.

NBA Live 07 succeeds in bringing out all the above facts. It transcends NBA 2003 that Aaron Gomes possesses, and brings you freakishly close to the NBA atmosphere. Wow, that was friggin’ formal. Anyway I enjoy playing it, because firstly, I get to know more about the NBA so I can enter the States as an informed chappie, and secondly, because Tracy McGrady kicks ass.

Oh, now since I have somewhat taken a liking for the NBA, I need to have a favorite team, right? Now you can’t just start supporting a team, there is always something that draws you to a particular team, and unfortunately you need to wait for that. I haven’t watched much of NBA, but I know I am going to Texas. Houston Rockets are from Texas, so yeah, it kinda adds up to: “Anish, support them”. Also, Yao Ming is tall, and Asian, like me. For all American readers, I am Indian, and India is a part of Asia, so that makes me an Asian, even though I don’t have chinky eyes. Sheesh.

Anyway to conclude this random post, if you want to learn more about a particular sport, play its computer game. It suddenly becomes a lot easier and can be a bucketful of fun. Next on my list are Madden 07 and the latest release of Triple Play. Maybe I’ll review those too, actually no, I am not that blogstipated.

P.S. I know my next post. Sneak peak: The Cricket World Cup is boring… =P. Sorry Bharath.

Niche - WK002

2007-04-01T21:45:00.000-05:00

This is an advert made by us [Redial Entertainment] for a store called "Niche". This shop will sell art-related goods such as canvases and sketches, body art ("henna"), accessories, etc at the Young Entrepreneur Competition that is going to be held in Reef Mall, Dubai from the 3rd to the 5th of April. Special paintings done by the students of the Dubai Center For Special Needs will also be up on sale, and all proceeds from the sale of these paintings will go to Dubai Center For Special Needs.
Visit their website @: www.niche-intheworldofcreativity.piczo.com

This is Redial Entertainment's newest project, and we really enjoyed doing it. It was completely shot by us, and Romit's back is living proof. [see below]

To shoot at a height parallel to ground, with the camera perpendicular to its usual position, we came up with what I would call the "Redial-Ninety-Degree" setup. We piled 2 tables on top of each other, and our famed camera man, Romit, then took the honour of holding the tripod parallel to the ground at a particular height (as shown in the picture) for the whole of 7 minutes. Romit died. Almost, but that hero did hold on well.

Yes the girls took only 7 minutes to paint, or well "doodle", the final picture, with ferocious instructions being shouted from us directors. Anyway, we really enjoyed making this video, and are proud of what we have achieved. Yes, there is scope for improvement, but there always is. Anyway, let's hope it's the first of many.

P.S. Good luck to Niche!

Weird Times

2007-03-31T03:27:00.000-05:00

School finally feels done with, and somehow I am glad it’s over. I don’t feel like studying or like giving any shitty exam, and the best part about it is that I don’t have too. The most I would want to do at school is sit there, laugh, talk and do nothing else. No more politics, no more excessive competitiveness and no more classroom chemistry. Yeah I will miss the football stuff, and the nostalgic stuff, and the class madness, and Mr Mudassir, but not now, not yet. Later, maybe.

I’ll miss my friends. Everyone’s leaving, but everyone’s also getting overly close, and it almost seems as if it's all happening at the wrong time. As in, why now? This could have happened a little earlier. It’s almost like the thought of separation is bringing us closer. Damn? Oh and “love is” literally “in the air”, everywhere except around my air, that is. And that’s good and all, but then it’s time for friggin’ separation and that sucks. Tejas said three somewhat final goodbyes yesterday, and I would have to do the same, soon. And it’s just that I feel really weird. I am so close to my friends, all of them in some way or the other, but how close? What’s gonna happen a few years down the line? Yeah we will be in touch thanks to Facebook and shit, but will I see them again? How close am I really to them?

Loads of friggin’ questions, and yeah this post does border lame, and people would probably go, “it’s life, deal with it, idiot!” But I don’t know, it’s just a weird time. When life gets comfortable, starting a new one almost seems wrong. But I am looking forward to University too, so well, that adds to the list of confusing thoughts. And then, random people have kinda started entering into my life, which is again, weird, but cool. Redial Entertainment and driving and football and other fun stuff makes for exciting times, but separation and departures makes everything a little emotional, and when you add the two feelings, it just gets plain weird.

P.S. Yesternight, Shak Rukh Uncle and Dhiru Dada blew the lights outta me.

Memoirs of ISC 2007 – Economics!

2007-03-29T05:18:00.000-05:00

There are times when the subject you think you like, you just can't hate enough. Studying it is initially impossible, and the “14 days” that you have for its preparation almost go to waste. Well 12 of the 14 were economic-less for me. The other 2 days were just long. Eco, rather “ISC Economics”, in general, is long, and it can be repetitive, and long, and more repetitive. And when the rest of the world is done with their exams, there is this automatic 'make-yourself-more-miserable' process that initiates itself. I cursed Economics, I cursed Sethi & Andrews, I cursed ISC - argh. But then I spoke to my fellow Eco buddies, and none of them were studying either. That’s when things changed a little. I started to feel good. =) And so did they. It’s an exchange - suffer together, and the suffering turns to self-mockery and painless laughter, and then you suddenly don’t give a shit. So you abuse and bemuse, you laugh at yourself when you should actually cry, but you revel in how you are not the only idiot not studying for a crucial, ISC board exam.

That’s how I felt before I gave my Economics exam. But things change…

I slept for seven hours during the night before Eco and that’s a little record in its own way. Now extra sleep means extra hyper-ness, so I apologize to everyone around me that morning for anything inappropriate. Not good, but it was my (our) last exam and I just couldn’t wait to be done with it.

Mrs. Balachandran was there, with a new hair-do, handling the boys, and Dr Murthy was also there (somewhere) handling the girls. There is this brilliant competitiveness between the two, and the way they bolster their herd is admirable – pushes us only harder. So basically they were up to their answering-doubts best. Unmukt had to make sure that he asked ma’am the weirdest of things to freak everyone around him, and Aaron was as supremely confident as ever. Romit had lost hope in everything Eco-related and had reached “eco-saturation” point. Harry’s hair was still annoying the hell outta me, but he was revising his lines for his play that was going to be held that evening for “Great Ghai”, and Eco seemed ‘low-priority’ for him. Tejas was lost in love, somewhat.

Our Economics exam was held in the gym, thanks to Ghai. But it didn’t make that big a difference. Anyway, after loads of last minute chaos-that-should-have-been-constructive-revision and a Tony-Joe-at-his-funny-best prayer, we finally got our papers. A quick glance at the paper, and we all knew that it was going to be a good paper, but a friggin’ long one. It was most definitely both. I hate writing Eco papers, because there is a constant race against time and there is not much time to think. 3 hours of writing leaves you with painful fingers and a not-very-tidy paper. Anyway it was a little different this time, I enjoyed writing the paper. Maybe the 7 hours of sleep allowed my pen to coordinate with my head. Brilliant.

6 months of freedom, loads of fun, loads of Redial Entertainment and loads of Football – that’s what the end of the paper meant, and it signaled joy unconfined! =) What adds to the ecstasy is a good paper and Eco was awesome. Except, well, actually, the compensation of employees answer is 140 – I don’t care what anyone else says – the text book says so. Anyway it’s all good. Unmukt is getting 100 and so are a lot of girls, I think. Though Ankita didn't attempt 6 marks or something [ask Unmukt for the details and his girl-theories]. Aaron is gonna struggle with a 95 – it’s okay Aaron, shit happens. Romit and Tejas and Harry all had a good paper. Harry is looking at the nineties - respect. Dusty has become a little fat, and I’m loving Neil’s longish hair.

There, that sums up my ISC Board Examination experience. Oh, just for the “Who-Will-Top-odds” bit, I heard that Bio was awesome, and Computer Applications was not happening, though Ali is still somehow getting 100. So that adds to my final odds tally [check P.S.]

I really don’t know how to end this post and this whole "ISC Memoirs". Maybe I need to write a closure-type thing. Let’s see.

P.S. And the final odds are in. The investment window will stay open till the results come out, so invest away!
Shayaan: 3:1
Shrivats: 2:1
Bharath: 3:1
Unmukt: 2.5:1
Govind: 3:1
Ali: 1:1
Tejas: 7080090 x 10^903 x infinity:1

300

2007-03-22T15:03:00.000-05:00

Okay, I have not been as excited as I was to see this movie for a long time. The trailers of 300 were just mind-blowingly awesome. Also, the TIME article and the hype around its “beauty” made me very inclined to watching it. So I did. It is pretty darn good.

Romit accompanied me for this one, and he was habitually three minutes late. Just before the movie began, we saw a very inspiring Coca Cola advert, and wondered whether we could ever create anything like it. We also found the trailer for “The Number 23” highly intriguing and noted that Ali just to watch that movie for all it's devil-ness.

Finally the movie began, with our hopes as high as Mount Everest. The introduction of the movie was brilliant, but then it swept into this half-dull phase, where it became semi-Bollywood-ish. There was an over-use of “stirring music”, and too much drama for my liking. But that phase passed very quickly. The movie beautifully switched into brilliant gear. With hair-tearing action scenes and the gut-wrenching voice of King Leonidas, time flew by, and we were stuck onto every inch of muscle-movement. Beyond the action, the mental build of a Spartan fascinated me. Their ability to laugh at death and embrace it as the highest token of honour is a little extreme, but the sheer devotion, unity and courage that the Spartans depict is inspiring in its own little way. Their faith in their King and the principled nature of their leader earn the audiences love almost instantaneously.

It has a decent story line - the fearless 300 warriors of Sparta against thousands of soldiers of the Persian empire in the great battle of Thermopylae. The 300 warriors are on the brink of pulling off a historic victory, until they get betrayed and meet heir downfall. But their sacrifice inspires the rest of Greece to stow away the Persians. Yeah I did put it all together in 4 lines, but you would be going to see the movie is for it's visual effects, its effective story-telling, and it's brilliant directing, and not for some complex story line.

The movie, however, lacks realism, but then it is not meant to be a “Saving Private Ryan” either. As TIME rightly put it, 300 is beautiful and is meant to be so. It has beautiful virtual sets, with excellent costumes and hair-raising sound effects. The amount of post-production work put into this film is laudable and the whole concept of it being shot completely in front of a green screen makes it a technological milestone in film-making. In addition to that, the photography and the direction of some of the shots is beyond brilliant. The script is also decent, and the acting is above average. Gerard Butler, who acts as “King Leonidas”, gives a powerful performance, but nobody else is noteworthy.

If you have seen the movie, you will call me an old fart for framing the movie “beautiful”, because its one of the most gruesome movies ever to hit the screens. It’s 18+ and rightly so, because well it’s like a “pornaction” film due to the explicit blood-spilling. There are more than enough head-cutting-offs and enough blood to fill a river. In one scene, an ‘Immortal’ (one of the enemy soldiers) cuts of the Spartan army’s Captain’s son’s head, the head spins into the air, and its oesophagus and trachea are visible from underneath, as it lands onto the ground. The head-less body stays put, and then suddenly falls. With blood oozing out, the body and its head are seen together, lying motionless on the ground. Fine, this movie may not compete with Hannibal and the other gruesome movies on the "disgusting" scale, but it has its fair share of eye-poking, disgusting creatures, blood and death. There are times where you will just want to look away or clutch your seat with sheer disgust. Romit is currently being haunted by all the head-cutting action. He can’t seem to get those images out of his head. So yeah it’s not a beautiful film in totality, but is the epitome of beautiful film-making.

Overall, this movie is a must-watch-in-theatre types, though the extra-sensitive and the blood-phobic people will not enjoy it. And please, don’t take your girlfriend for this one.

P.S. I would give it a 7 on 10 because I don’t think it comes close to Gladiator. Why Gladiator? Because it’s one of my all-time favourites and is partially comparable to 300.

Russell In Dubai!

2007-03-18T17:19:00.000-05:00

Yes, we lucky people of Dubai always seem to get luckier. Russell Peters, arguably the best comedian in the world today, did four friggin’ shows the melting pot of the Middle East, each having been sold out more quickly than the other. He came, he conquered and he made us laugh our asses off!

Okay, enough of the formal crap.

Initially, we [especially Romit] were heart broken to hear that the great Russell would be performing just before our Physics exam. Bloody hell, I couldn't have hated ISC more. But then relief came and relief is always good. 18^th of March was the perfect day to add 2 more shows Mr Peters, thank you! Tickets for his earlier shows had been sold out in 40 minutes, and the shows on the 18^th got sold out in about 8 minutes. Romit and I bought 8 tickets. Brilliant.

The 18th day of March came faster than I thought it would. We were surprisingly occupied with tons of Redial Entertainment work, and umm some other “fun”. It was a long time since the five of us had been together and boy it felt good. But all that aside, Romit and I geared up for the gig. We had bought Bharath a ticket as a birthday gift, which he initially greeted with scorn to my surprise, but came around later. Bharath, sometimes you are just too nice, but I still love you.

We [Romit, Bharath & I] made our way to Crowne Plaza hotel at about 6:30, three and a half hours earlier than the beginning of the act, hoping to get the first row, and having our asses picked on. All of that did happen, and boy we enjoyed it.

In all popular concerts, programs and shows held in Dubai, there is one common thread - the annoying pre-entrance debacle. Today was pretty much the same. There was no line system initially and everyone seemed to be everywhere outside the entrance gates. So well we thought we might as well start a line. There we stood, all proud and tall, first in line to hit the seats. But then, suddenly, a couple of Arab people came in front of us and started chatting up their fellow over-weight Arab bodyguard. When you suck up, the result is always good, so there was no budging those suckers from the front of the line. Fine. Dealt with. Then this innocent Indian boy emerged, asking our fat fellow Arab bodyguard, which of the two lines was the VIP line. The fat racist Arab fellow put on this shit-ass fake Indian accent and told him that “this was the Vee-Aai-Pee Liyun, and this was the Narmal liyun”, pointing at the two different lines as if he was addressing someone slow. His fellow Arab suckers enjoyed a snigger, and the fat racist Arab basked in the glory. Now what the hell is that? Friggin’ racists. I gave that fat bodyguard a mean look, but then, that was most I had the balls to do.

We then entered the hall to form another non-organised line. The first few people [which obviously included us] were in line, but the remaining people were like a kindergarten class gone wild. Some weeping aunty-ji came like a little toddler to complain to the second big ball-less teacher-like bodyguard saying that 'no one was standing in line' and that 'everyone was “butting” in'. Some “chicks” joined aunty-ji and it was a beautiful ensemble of chicks, aunty-hens and big ball-less bodyguards. The second body guard gave into their plea and said that there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. He therefore allowed them to butt into the line too - another bastard that one. The hypocritical chicks suddenly had tears of joys in their eyes. Brests always win with us men, don’t they?

Yup, I have sidetracked a little, but the humanity of Dubai is always worth a mention. Anyway, as soon as the doors opened, we rushed in like hounds, elbowing any obstruction in the way to get to the best possible seats. And by doing all that, we obviously did get the best seats. My parents were going to come in later, as they were evidently busy at work, so we saved them seats hoping that no Arab would pick a fight with us to get them. We were saved from this, but the Indian Sindhi sitting next to us fought her ass off against this aggressive Arab kid to protect seats for her loved ones. Congratufuckinlations to her.

We waited for an hour, at ease, sitting in the first row, enjoying the superior seats to those behind us. At 10:10 PM, the super-huge Greek "Angelo", Russel’s opening act, came onto the stage. He ridiculed his own obesity to make us laugh and was quite successful in that too. He was the perfect appetizer for Russell, and activated our stomachs for the main course.

Enter Russell Peters. He was obviously met with loud cheers from the over-enthusiastic crowd. Yes, I must admit, being a big fan, it was great to see him. Romit thought Russell had "teleportated" some of his weight. Russel began and penetrated our stomachs brilliantly, and was on song through out. Well I would say he was more than on song, he was on friggin’ fire. He didn’t repeat any of his earlier jokes, and cleverly inculcated the Dubai aspect in this new plethora of jokes. From the Lebanese “Habibis” to “Mr North Carolina”, from the “Egyptianpino” to his other impromptu crowd interaction, and from his usual spin on hairy Indians to his brilliantly witty jokes, Russell entertained our asses off. His impersonation of George Bush was spot on and his take on the Football World Cup 2006 was awesomely hilarious too. What makes him brilliant is that he has this wonderful ability of striking the right note and making a universal connection with his Asian dominated crowd. And besides just being plain funny, Russell's jokes have bitter honesty in them. As he said on his CBC interview, it's easier for a coloured comedian to spurt the honesty in an act than some bimbo President in some Congressional speech.

I had a fair share of his crowd-interaction. Being an Indian, Russell screwed me over my apparent hair-yness. He spotted my monobrow and told me to shave it off because it would give me two eyebrows, and for us Indians, the more of anything the merrier, right? He didn’t leave me there. Later on, when he spoke about Indian men and their hairy dicks, he picked me out yet again and told me to shave that jungle off too. Cool. Yes I was a working definition of the Indian man for Russell. As Romit later said, I got what I want. Russel then went off and came on for an encore. He then threw upon us my favourite joke of the evening on “Bollywood Pornography”. Romit and I almost fell out of our chairs, and I have never heard my Dad laugh so loudly. It was a perfect end to brilliant show of a brilliantly talented comedian.

The fairy-tale-like experience didn’t end there. We then got to meet Russell & Angelo in a conference room where we took photos with him and got his autographs. He remembered my mono-brow and I did have one-tenth of a conversation with him, but he gave most of his attention to the hot girls that were there. I don’t blame Russel for this. He was being a true man. I like this honest entertainer.

P.S. Besides all the fun, Arsenal lost today, and I lost my house keys.

Redial Entertainment Kickstarted

2007-03-18T16:10:00.000-05:00

Redial Entertainment has formally begun...www.redial-entertainment.blogspot.com

[click the picture to enlarge]

P.S. Call again.

Dubai Desert Rock 2007!

2007-03-15T16:12:00.000-05:00

After eternally terminating Chemistry from your life, there is nothing more positive you can hope for. But then Desert Rock comes along, and redefines everything. Morally, what Ali and I did was wrong. In the middle of your board examinations, ideally, you shouldn’t be allowed to attend an 80DB+ concert. It’s not right. But our blessed parents don’t exactly resonate with that notion. Thank God.

Essentially, we went there to fulfill half of Ali’s dream - IRON MAIDEN. We made no compromises. We were the first few people to line up, and planned to maintain our 100% record of standing in the first row for every single Desert Rock since its inception in 2004. However, around us, in the lines, were clearly the most annoying aspects of Dubai - the people. You can’t get faker and more loser-ish then them. Their definition of fun is weird, and the only constant pain-in-the-asses for the entire of this Desert Rock are the people. Having reached there 4 hours before the gates opened, we were trying our best to entertain ourselves. So, well, just for fun, we started singing some Backstreet Boys stuff, you know, to see the response of the faggots around us. And it was exactly what we thought it would be. They ridiculed, abused and laughed at us. Their sense of humour really seemed to be up their bums. One of these cool-wannabe rockers, this 15 year old kid who thought he was the son of the Metal Gods, started pulling our leg bordering on pure harshness. So to get the plot - “What the hell is your problem?” asked Ali.
“My problem is that you are a fat-ass Indian,” was the reply. Haih? What was hilarious to see was the enormous joy that he experienced having cracked what he thought was a purely brilliant joke. Ali and I were unaffected, but bemused. Wow, some people are so shallow. The British girls next to him seemed to be having a ball of a time too, ridiculing us with their haughty and gay ascents. One Arab female started mocking our Indian ascent, and everyone was having a blast, with us being the sources of fun. That freak 15-year-old told the non-stop-singing Ali to sing some Punjabi-MC stuff, trying to drown us in embarrassment using his sarcastically sadist Indian accent. We don’t even talk like that. Anyway we were amused and had our own ball at how ridiculously fascinating people can be.

Finally we did enter the arena, and there was no controlling our exuberant energy. We needed to be in that first darn row. We needed to run our asses off to secure our positions, and we did. Joy, unconfined! But we forgot to get our fluorescent green arm bands, and therefore, essentially, we were “illegal” for the entire of the concert. Anyway, what was fascinating to see was that half of Modern High was there - loads of 11^th graders and 9^th graders and a chunk of 9^th grade girls. The latter bit was confusingly amusing. Fine Tandon knew her stuff, but the other girls seemed a bit lost. Anyway it was interesting none the less.

At 2:00 PM, Junkyard Groove took control of the stage, and surprisingly, they were really good. Yes technical difficulties did muck it up a little, but their front-man, Ameeth, covered up really well. I found their music really soulful, and the band-members very genuinely passionate. I just loved their music, and am really looking forward to getting their album, which is out soon. From their Myspace profile: “What do you get when you put a drummer with heavy metal roots, a guitarist with classic rock roots, a bassist crazy about Jazz and a very drunken vocalist, in 1 band? Junkyard Groove!” It’s worth giving them a listen. Amidst all this, some “Metal” fans, or well “Wannabe Rockers” were “moshing” to their music. Now Junkyard Groove are essentially an Alternative band, so there was no real reason to mosh, but hey man, “it’s cool.”

The Groove were followed by the most untalented celebrity singers of all time – Lauren Harris. Fine she is sexy, hot and all the rot, but that woman is in no way a great singer. She sings all her songs on a low register and tries to make a very desperate effort to come off as a rocker with her fake grimace, singing some “Take Me Home” shyte or something. She is the epitome of ‘riding on your father’s back’, and I was in no way entertained by her, though her accompanying band (i.e. a guitarist, a bassist and a drummer) were not bad at all.

Mastadon follwed Harris and weren’t that great either. They seemed to be lost in their own world. They literally came out, performed and left. There was no crowd-interaction, no uniqueness and basically no performance as of such. Ali did defend them later on saying that they are all about the music and beyond the crowd interaction, and when it came to music they were quite brilliant. But hey, I am at a concert, and I am paying to watch you. The least you can do is half-entertain me. Anyway, SK, who was in the first row till now, got squeezed out after almost having been squashed to death. The crowd is insane for these Metal concerts. They are aggressive, arrogant, self-righteous and so fake, most of them anyway.

In Flames, who were up next, were much better and seemed to have a decent fan-following. This really attractive chick next to me knew all their stuff. Personally, I found them to be quite decent. As a group, they were good performers with some good songs and enough amounts of energy. I liked their lead singer, though he somehow reminded me of Vivek Malhotra.

Stone Sour didn't disappoint either. It was obviously all about Corey Taylor. As Ali said, Corey was one solid sob - energy personified, and one of the best bald head-bangers ever. Just looking at his vigour was entertaining...wow! He was so spell bounding that I don't even remember the other band members' faces. Anyway, I really enjoyed "Through The Glass" and loved the way Corey gave music some substance, though I was a little disappointed that they didn't play "Bother" [the only other song I knew :P].

Prodigy, for me, were just bad. I hated every moment of their performance, which is quite contradictory to what most of the other people felt. Initially, they seemed promising, with their fancy light set up, and this new-generation DJ-Console-like thing. But all they played was non-stop dhin-chak-dhin-chak heavy metal bet that really got to you after some time. They were so loud, and so monotonous, Ali and I just couldn’t get a grip of them, and subsequently ourselves, as our heads burst into dhin-chak-dhin-chak pain . The lead-singers didn’t do much. They were just screaming the entire time, and their crazy guitarist seemed weirdly insane.

Iron Maiden were a complete contrast to Prodigy. After a long wait, and total stage revamp, they finally erupted on to stage and sent the crowd into orgasmic ecstasy. Their unlimited energy, legendary status and supremely-entertaining music capped off a brilliant night. They seemed to make everything worth it. With a war-like stage-dress-code, the infamous tank and Eddie, they gave Dubai the full on 'Maiden Experience'. They literally blew the living daylights out of us. Usually they perform their entire new album when they tour, but they made sure they played their classics too. ‘Number of the Beast’, ‘Run to the Hills’, ‘Iron Maiden’ and ‘The Trooper’ really got the crowd going. Ali, with his supreme Maiden knowledge, knew exactly what was going to happen next. He flipped when Bruce Dickenson cried, “Scrrreaam for me, Dubai!” Wow! They were mesmerizing, especially when the infamous Tank kicked into action, and when Eddie walked on to the stage, in his trademark lanky death-walk. WOW! In addition to that, Bruce’s limitless amount of energy and Mcbrain’s guitar-throwing exploits made it even more awesome. Their stamina for high-energy level performances at their old-ish ages is awe-inspiring. They were simply brilliantly brilliant.

Wow, it was one memorable night, the 9^th of March. We did become partially deaf immediately afterwards, and did have a temporary 2-day period of Tinnitus later, but hell, it was worth it! =)

That was day 1 of the 2 day festival that was Dubai Desert Rock 2007. We didn’t make it to the second day because we were half deaf, pretty worn out and filled with guilt at the aspect of not studying enough. Ahh, life!

P.S. A friggin’ long post, but a memory successfully created. As a matter of fact, this post is essentially only for two people.

Memoirs of ISC 2007 – Physics

2007-03-14T09:00:00.000-05:00

This exam felt painstakingly important to me until I actually started writing it. I had studied enough, slept enough, fantasized-about-what-would-happen-after-it enough and stressed enough, now I just needed to get it out of my system.

The car-ride was pretty uneventful except for Ali’s big fat intimidating ABC Physics book. Shayaan hadn’t studied that well for this exam, so that was encouraging. I enjoyed showing off in the car, and that did annoy the hell out of Ali. Oh, and I had decided to make use of a camera on our last ever exam together as a science batch, so the picture =). Damn I’m going to miss these exams. From the twins walking into school like robots, to us over-discussing things, to Sodium Orgasmate, to us hounding our teachers, to the twins making up good sensible shit for things they have no idea about, to Unmukt’s “not their in the portion” reactions, to Romit’s inability to correctly define things and to the highest amount of stress-releasing laughter we will ever have together as a group, I am really going to miss it. Not now, but later definitely.

Anyway, so I took enough pictures (which I will put up on Facebook soon) to satisfy my memory-cravings years down the line. Oh, and if you ever want to see Ali’s version of “getting-cow-screwed”, let me know. It’s a very udder-ful video to say the least. That and few pictures of Reshmi Ma’am “solving our doubts” – pure gold footageI say!

On a more serious note, before entering the hall, I did get some of my doubts sorted out, but came no where close to the actual morning-revision target I had set. That never happens anyway. We talk, laugh and try to cry, and have a whole lot of fun doing all that, before making a surprisingly sober and sane entry into the hall. After lining up in the AC Foyer, Mr Bloud told us very proudly that he would be saying our prayer. Wow, joy.

We finally did enter the hall, and for a moment, were a little insecure when our question papers didn’t seem to be around. We waited. Oliyolah came. Thank God. We got the paper and it looked weird. It seemed short, but had a lot of unheard of stuff in it. “Digital signals”? “Production pair”? There were some wrong sums too - so unlike the board. Anyway the paper was decent. I don’t think I did enough to get a 90, but Shrivats is getting 99 for sure. Unmukt is getting 100, “maybe”. Shayaan wanted to have a bad paper and had a bad paper. Ali has given up on everything. He just doesn’t care. “Coolness”, I say. He is very, uhm well, happy nowadays and it’s cool, if you know what I mean. Tejas thinks I am getting 100. I really can’t figure that one out. Rubin and Aaron were our Gauss-saviors, and Tejas’ XOR-saviors. Oh and Bharath’s getting a 100/100 too. Govind will also probably max. I am telling you the competition is heating up! I feel that Computers might be the difference. Hmm let’s see. Common Bharath!

The usual dispersal mela followed after the end of the exam with everyone screaming and hounding Ms. Menon yet again. I had my camera out, and was taking random shots. I then almost got bitten by Karan’s dog . Anything to do with that family can’t stand me. Ahh I guess its mutual, and there is definitely an anti-connection. And it makes sense unlike the other “connections” that I have been having lately.

Anyway, the physical experience ended with Ali and me trying to make the fastest and crap-iest video ever. Hopefully I will have time to decorate it someday. For now, 14 days till Eco. What's lined up? Lots of Redial Entertainment work, lots of football and some more of Redial Entertainment work, basically lots of fun.

In our car-ride home, Ali and I did dirty things with Ali’s plasticine.

P.S. The race is heating up, and the investments are as expectedly not coming. Brilliant you guys! However, the odds as they stand now:
Shayaan: 3.5:1
Shrivats: 2.7:1
Bharath: 3:1
Unmukt: 3:1
Govind: 3:1
Tejas: 7080090 x 10^903: 1

Memoirs of ISC 2007 – Environmental Education

2007-03-12T08:33:00.000-05:00

I hated studying for this exam. Our ‘Enviro’ textbook was pure crap. Reeta David seriously needs to find a new career path. I plan to write a letter to the publishers telling them how unorganized, vague and superfluous their ‘great’ book of theirs is. Maybe someday it will happen, but whatever. The past few days were pathetic, study-wise that is. Desert Rock, “Titinus” and other things made it difficult for me to study anything - more on that when I get time to write about Desert Rock.

Everyone came into school wanting a 90+ in what is supposedly an easy-to-score-by-bluffing subject. Harry wanted 100. Romit and Bharath entered with Bharath’s face beaming with excitement like it so often is. He couldn’t wait to tell us Romit’s newest legendary sayings. Apparently, Romit thinks that “environment and development are same sides of two coin.” Thanks Bengali Babu for adding another "great-un" to your pool of ridiculousness. Mr. Sharma asked whether we wanted to go to India to play football matches against some of top schools there this summer, and we whole heartedly agreed. Hopefully it will happen Aaron, let’s see. [I am hating my English right now. Plus this headache and the desire to sleep is really annoying me.]

After asking Mrs Ghosh a gazillion times what 'Ecological Indicators' are, and whole bunch of other rubbish, we finally entered the auditorium. We got our paper, and immediately I hated everything about it. I hated the questions, I hated what I wrote, I hated writing it, I just hated the entire experience, and boy, I am glad it’s over. The Indian School Certificate examinations has so got its Environmental Education wrong. I really feel like venting about how pathetic our 'Enviro' syllabus, but it doesn’t even deserve that, not now at least. Anyway, it seriously has its priorities messed up. Alas, only ISC knows how to make perfectly useful and important subject, absolute crap. Anyway how much ever I hated writing the paper, I am still hoping to scrape a 90. Seriously, an 89.5 will do! However, after the paper ended, the after-exam discussions were “marred” with the Headboy’s aggressive, loud and un-needed speech. Just pay your 10 dirhams guys, it’s not worth the drama. And Ritesh relax, I wonder where all this enthusiasm of yours went when Bharath was Dhs 300+ in debt.

Anyway, this paper was totally Bio-students friendly which is kinda annoying. But it gives people like Shayaan, Shri, Kau and the rest of the Bio freaks an edge. They will probably be doing really well in it. Unmukt, despite being an Eco-student, got “micro-nutrients” right, and pre-exam time he had said that he was “screwed”. Yeah he is distracted for certain reasons, but he is also Unmukt none the less – 100/100. Ashiq, Tejas and almost everyone else seemed happy. Romit did an extra question, however I really hope it wasn’t coin related. Aaron is getting full, and Ali is guarenteed full in physics. Rubin was starring at me, and I was starring at Karan. Again that Vesuvius finished his paper super-fast, but says to have written two pages per answer. How? Ameya broke all records by sleeping for one complete hour during his exam, and Jeetu just couldn’t contain his shock at this. Also, apparently Ameya left one question because he didn’t have enough time to think. Anyhoo, I seriously don’t care. I just hope, like everyone else, that I scrape a 90 and be done with it. Phyiscs, on the other hand, I consider semi-important. I need to do well, and I really hope I study today. But before that, sleep is essential.

P.S. Odds for “Who Will Top?” as they stand:
Shayaan: 3.3:1
Shrivats: 2.5:1
Bharath: 3.2:1
Unmukt: 3:1
Govind: 3:1
Tejas: 70800 x 10^3: 1
Romit: 2 coin to 1 coins

Memoirs of ISC 2007 – Chemistry

2007-03-07T07:42:00.000-06:00

All bad things come to an end, and I’m glad they do.

Most of us didn’t get much sleep last night. From Zafar’s frantic midnight call to request ‘Isomerism’ sheets, to Ali’s refusal of letting me study, to Unmukt’s first-time-ever five hour marathon of studying and to the last night’s Champion’s League action that I missed, yesterday was terrible. Studying or trying to study for 24 hours is not a friggin’ joke. But I guess, we were the “makers of our own fate” and all that rot. However the common thread uniting most of us commoners was that we really didn’t give/don't give a shit about chemistry. Yes, not the best of attitudes to have, but when the legendary ISC allows you to fail in two out of six subjects, you might as well fail in what deserves to fail in. Obviously we aren’t “failing” but get the vibe.

Today’s morning was especially stressful. The only positive aspect of that is the fact that releasing this stress with the people you love is a rare joy. How else would Sodium Orgasmate been formulated? Or Kablu Khan for that matter, and all the other things that I can't now remember, but which you can enlighten me with. By the way, if interested, ask Romit or Ali for the exact Khan-Sen Synthesis of Sodium Orgasmate.

Everyone was laughing their stress off, by mocking and ridiculing themselves. Aaron was up to his “screwed” best, which he substantiated when he told me that Phthalic Acid was a Monomer of Terylene. Oh and Rubin knew it too, and so did Jeetu. But yup, they were all 'screwed'. Yeah, Ali you are probably going to want to jump me for what you might consider to be my 'hypocrisy', but too bad. Ameya hadn’t studied anything as usual, where as we were all secretly praying in our hearts that Tejas had studied enough to pass. Romit had done the entire portion, much to the annoyance of Ali, whereas Ashiq and I could still not get over his dream. Basically we were all crapping in our pants before we entered the examination hall, how much ever we tried to mask it with the “don’t-care” attitude.

The paper was tough. According to me, it was tough to score very high marks in, but easy to get a good decent score in. It was better than I thought it would be, and I guess most would agree. I did, however, make the stupid mistake of not pacing out my paper well. I did an extra question in Section A before reaching Organic, and then I didn’t have enough time to do Organic properly, a section in which I knew most of the stuff. But no regrets, I am just happy it’s over.

Outside, the aftermath saw the nerds going insane with the answers and started hounding Dr Khan over intricate details. The irony of the day was that for all the “student-friendly” lectures that Dr Khan gave us, Chemistry was the most un-student-friendly paper we have had yet. Bharath, Kaushik and Nikhil had visibly disappointed looks on their faces trying their best to convince themselves that they are losing only “half-a-mark”. Oh, the tension and drama of competition I say!

Meanwhile outside the school gates, Karan was at his volcanic best, abusing and amusing everyone around him, with his "don't-give-a-shit", "atheist" attitude. I remember, in 7th Grade, I annoyed him so much that he once took out his craft-blade, and came out to kill me. Believe me, he did, literally. People had to hold him back. I freaked, obviously. It was probably as bad as the time Rohit Das "choke-slammed" me onto the lockers. The reason - I used tell him to "keep-smiling". Bloody hell, he could never wipe that smirk off his face, so I used to mocking-ly encourage it. Ahh memories!

Today, Ali is not getting full, but Aaron is, and Shayaan seemed to have had a rocking paper, making minimal mistakes. Hmm, maybe the odds require new entries.

For me, this is the first of three “end-of-exams”. I have the whole of the Desert Rock to look forward too, which no doubt will be bloody exciting. Iron Maiden, Robert Plant! We are very lucky here in Dubai; rather we are a little spoilt with all these high profile performers being showered upon us with unbelievable ease. But hey, I am not complaining.

Sleep is essential.

By the way, Wild Wadi was great fun. You should have seen Kaushik’s face after having experienced the “Jumeirah Scare” and realizing that he had mucked up DDT.

P.S. The odds for “Who Will Top?” as they currently stand:
Shayaan: 3.5:1
Shrivats: 2.8:1
Bharath: 3.2:1
Unmukt: 3.3:1
Govind: 3:1
Tejas: 70800 x 10^3: 1

Memoirs of ISC 2007 – Maths!

2007-03-05T08:38:00.000-06:00

We didn’t know how good today was going to be. Well, I didn’t. I got up and freaked over 3-D. I had studied it the day before, but it didn’t seem to be making sense today. Integration was the same too - nothing made sense. Confidence was on a big-time low.

The car-ride saw Shayaan, Ali and me discussing how none of us had done the vector-prove-that sums properly, though Ali knew it all, that un-naïve, board-topping, non-imbecile of a guitar-cum-study-genius. On reaching school, things didn’t change, I was pretty darn nervous, because this exam was important to me on some un-important level. Anyway, Ameya was at his laughing-because-he-knows-nothing best, Romit was “screwed” and Ashiq was on about his unique dream. Harry cut some of his hair and said that he was aiming for 100, and what would be a 79 mark leap from his previous "promising" score of 21. I say confidence is good weird-haired Harry! Tejas was in some classroom, desolate and lonely, waiting for the sky to ring with eternal pangs of separation, for he felt that nothing separated Shrivats Mohan from Tejas Menon, as their souls rose towards one heaven on the sad music of maths. Bharath was laughing and helping everyone out, whereas Zafar was distributing some Arabic stuff. I was partially freaking out. Oh, and Rohith Salim was also on an all-time nerves-high. Govind came late.

When we did get the paper, the tension was replaced by “haha”. The paper was easy. We had done more than 29/50^th sums before, and for that I, and I’m sure all the rest you too, would like to thank Mr Mehmood Mudassir for his great, devoted and yet Alpha-Q loving, teaching. Most of the nerd gang are getting full, with Ali topping all possible lists. and Unmukt’s paper went only “okay” because everyone else is also getting full. It was a good day indeed, everyone seemed happy and the ISC re-iterated Dr Khan again by proving that these exams were indeed “student friendly” x 10. Next time, attach the answers too, k? No, I am not complaining.

Ali was so glad that he was getting 105 on 100, that he started dreaming of replacing Thapa as the school security guard. No not really, but Ali took Thapa's police-men type hat and wore it. All he needed now was a six-pack and a flaming guitar, then the "look" would be complete. Okay, shit, this is getting too Ali-oriented.

On a more philosophical note, today’s great mathematics exam made us realize that chemistry can die, for I don’t believe in chemistry, I don’t believe in metals, for life is everything but chemistry, for chem is tree. For all those who are interested, please bring 150 dirhams to school on Wednesday. We are planning to head out to Wild Wadi at 12:30 P.M. for some wadi fun! Tell your mums you will be home by 4:30 P.M, and make sure to pack in a lunch, a towel and some trunks. And, umm you girls are welcome too. Till Wadi then, adios!

P.S. The odds for “Who Will Top?” as they currently stand:

The Entire Grade 12 - 1:1

LOST

2007-03-03T06:09:00.000-06:00

"Welcome to LOST. This game is a student project - players score points by inviting others to the game. It aims to show how 7 million people can be connected and become the largest online game ever.

You can join the game if you find an invitation. An invitation is an internet address that looks like this: www.lost.eu/example - but instead of the word 'example' there are some random numbers and letters.

There are invitations written everywhere - on the internet and in the real world.
To win the game you must score points. To score points you must invite other people using a unique address that is given to you. www.lost.eu/youraddress

Everyone in the game has a profile where they can see who they have invited and who has invited them. It's possible to interact with anyone in the game.

The game will end when it reaches 7 million players - the winner of the game will get $5000, and the top ten $500 each. There is also a prize given to the best photograph of an invitation."

...so quotes the "LOST" website...now you might as well join yeah?

www.lost.eu/279bf

P.S. 100th post! But "LOST", hah! And umm, thanks Romit. :P

Memoirs of ISC 2007 – English Literature

2007-03-02T07:20:00.000-06:00

There was nothing half-interesting about our journey to school this time, though Al Futtaim cleaners were polishing my corridor floor when I walked out today, and they got all mad when I stepped all over the polish. But hey, we are talking about my God Damn boards here, I need to get to the lift.

The highlight of the morning was my dad’s outburst, as in a positive one, full of energy. We started discussing my future, only this time it was exciting rather than confusing. It feels good to have your path laid out, now all you have to do is to walk/run it and pray that it’s a decently smooth journey.

English Literature was our first real test. No Bashir, no non-sense, no free marks (English Language) – studying was essential. What I liked about my “studying” was that I really enjoyed Richard II. It’s a brilliant play, and Shakespeare is friggin’ inspiring genius. I actually enjoyed some of the poems too – Prayer Before Birth, Story Of Lost Friends, Flute Music and A Walk By Moonlight are all deep and interesting. Anyway, my point is studying for this exam wasn’t all that bad. However I did get annoyed with my writing in general, I really need to start reading more books.

The paper was as “student-friendly” as it could be, but I can’t really judge how well mine went. I am not all depressed and irritated, so I guess that’s a good sign, but then I also don’t really care that much, so it’s also confusing. One man not confused is Shrivats. In his after-exam interview, the only thing he had to say was – “27 sides.” This study-beast has a clingy chest infection which causes him to burst into a multitude of coughs quite randomly. Now that could prove to be an obstruction towards his ambition of doing the double by topping the ISC, already having topped the ICSE. But, today this chest-infection was a source of mockery for Karan Khanna, which I don’t find funny in anyway. Despite his chest infection, Shrivats is going to kick your sorry ass Karan, because he seems to have had a rocking English Literature and Language exam. You, Karan, on the other hand visited the toilet, yawned, yawned again and finished your paper half an hour earlier. That doesn’t sound too good. Anyway Shri’s odds need re-adjusting and Karan needs an eruption to cool off. Whereas Govind seemed a little distressed about forgetting to write the “first bit” of the Garden scene. But chill Gov, I don’t think it should be that big a problem. Bharath’s went well – I think so anyway, because well, he wrote 3 practice essays for Prayer Before Birth. Whereas Aaron is going to beat Shrivats, apparently he too, like Shri and Kau came close to mugging up the entire of Richard II. Ali didn’t like his Garden scene essay, but he is still going to get full, though Aaron will beat him, somehow.

Nothing more I can think off. Oh, Annika learnt about the Extra-Booklets and Twins Ltd. Soon the rest of the girl’s section will also be enlightened. I think they are the highest consumers of extra booklets in the whole darn world. Guinness, you there? Ladies, Unmukt is a close third. Maths on Monday, and the die-all Chemistry on Wednesday to look forward too. Dad’s playing the Devil by tempting me to go for the Federer V Haas match today. Should I? I won’t get myself to study today anyway, how much ever I try.

P.S. Life sucks and there is nothing you can do about it, sometimes.
Odds for “Who Will Top?” as they currently stand: [screw you anonymous]
Bharath 3:1
Shrivats: 2.5:1
Govind: 3:1
Unmukt: 3.9:1
Tejas: 780800:1

Memoirs of ISC 2007 – English Language

2007-03-01T08:06:00.000-06:00

It’s 8:00 AM and I find it very difficult to get up, though I am wide awake. There is this weird feeling in my stomach. I somehow struggle out of bed, and a long visit to the bathroom flushes out the stomach issue. No no I don’t have diarrhea, it’s PBS – Pre Board Stress. Nerves for English Language? I don’t get it. But a few more visits to the bathroom make it evident that I should not run away from the truth. I get some hard core English Language studying in, and then try some music to soothe the nerves. But it doesn’t totally work. A random profane conversation with Ali is what helps.

Anyway it’s 10:40 AM, time to head to school. Shayaan, Ali and I wait for a cab. But we don’t find one. I am not panicked, Ali is around. Shayaan and Ali however do get a little panicked and we contemplate that the worst case scenario would be running to school. Wow, now that would kick your ass Tejas, wouldn’t it? But Shayaan freaks at the prospect, because I guess only he is smart enough to realize that even running would take over an hour to reach school. I have this peculiar banana peal in my hand. I wasn’t able to devour anything else. We get into a private super-expensive Taj hotel cab. Ali freaks and we think we might have to pay 300 dirhams. It’s then the turn of the banana to make the cab smell. Now put that earlier sentence in wrong Hindi and you’ll see what I said. We discuss pointless English Language doubts and questions. And finally we reach school at 11:15 AM.

No one seems to be tensed, and everyone proceeds into the hall as excited as ever. Shrivats is a little more excited than usual. There is no physical barrier between the girls and boys this time so Shri claims that he will stare his “buttocks off”, in his own style of words. Alas, hormones rage for different people at different times.

Mr Bloud’s prayer and the-external-examiner's-struggle-to-open-the-“sealed package”-that-is-our-ISC-board-papers fails to amuse us. An eerie nervous silence now prevails in the auditorium. We get the paper. It’s simple. Essay topics are good, and I know immediately which essay the twins would do, the one on “One World State” obviously. Later, everyone boasts as to how good their paper was. Ashiq’s was “superb”. Tejas wrote the coolest essay ever in the history of essays. Ali’s getting full, and he also learnt that he got full in Computer Practicals – I tell you, he’s going to break barriers this year, Shrivats beware. Aaron was supremely confident. Eddie and Rubin put on a few cheeks, I mean weight, but hell I shouldn’t be ridiculing. Rohith was awesome, and Imaad kinda forgot that he had an exam today. Shayaan is on the moon as usual, and is skipping Act 2 in Richard. Unmukt kick-started his deadly eco-rant in his “Money” essay, which was also the essay I did, but less eco-ish. My paper was okay, as I don’t think you can say how good or bad it really went. But I felt decent after it, so I guess that’s all that matters. Govind has “studied his ass off for everything” (:p), so his odds need to be altered obviously. Romit. Harry and HIS HAIR. Oh. My. God. [sorry Ashiq, hear OMG is so needed] Literature tomorrow, and I have 4 poems left, and I am blogging. Brilliant.

P.S. Odds . Okay I don’t care if it makes sense or not, so .|. : Odds for “Who Will Top?” as they currently stand:
Bharath 3:1
Shrivats: 3:1
Govind: 2.99998:1
Unmukt: 3.7:1
Tejas: 78080:1

Memoirs of ISC 2007 – End Of “Study” Leave.

2007-03-01T07:37:00.000-06:00

So long “study” leave. For all those that did satisfyingly study, and not get distracted – kudos. I, on the other hand was nothing but distracted, and this uneventful month went by quite slowly. But there were positives. I discovered and invented newer ways of passing time. But this month will be legendary in its own way: [in reverse order]

Facebook revolutionized most if not all of our lives.
I didn’t miss a single Arsenal match.
Got into Illinois, but then the whole of Grade 12 did. I am not complaining, it gave me satisfaction anyway.
Redial Entertainment work continued. We finished making backdrops for an event headed by Princess Haya – Sheikh Mohammed’s youngest wife.
I had an unexpectedly pleasant birthday. Thanks you guys, with a special mention to Ali and his dinner treat. KFC did make us put on a few kilos, for we kept stuffing ourselves, complaining about how bad and fatty the chicken was.
Dads and Mum’s anniversary.
American Idol
More Facebook, more MSN, more pointless conversations, and unnecessary excuses NOT to study.
The Official Farewell - with its toasts, with the awesome percussion and singing, and with a visibly half-annoyed Principal thanks to the ‘mixing’ and the photography.
The Farewell “Before Party” with all its “storming outs” and the consequent rumours. It was night when Modern High and its couples broke barriers, and where there was a whole twist of feelings and emotion, for me, and for many others.
Sister’s birthday and her Spanish departure.
Sports Day and how Aquila didn’t win. Damn it Aaron! Neil broke the 12-second barrier.
And umm amidst all that, a little bit of studying too.

Now it’s time to face the music as they say. Let’s just hope it’s not as sour as we think it might be.

P.S. Almighty Lord, chemistry is unbelievable.

Memoirs of ISC 2007 – Chemistry Practicals

2007-02-23T03:14:00.000-06:00

Chem is tree. Ha Ha. Funny joke huh? Well ‘Chem Pracs’ was a joke, an annoying, half-funny joke.

There was nothing exciting about our car journey to school except that I forgot that it was a Friday and that there would be no buses back home. Shit. But Ali’s parents came to our rescue quite brilliantly, and transport wasn’t a problem. Also Shayaan cracked a very harmless joke about “not-asking-Romit-but-Shrivats-your-doubts” which brought out Ali’s protective colours. He snapped back at the tall 'pianist', and basically, Romit, that’s a sign that you are loved, despite everything. =)

Once we entered school, the same old same old remained the same old same old. Wise-cracks and nerve-releasing laughter rang all around. Ritesh’s “ten dirhams” was a constant amidst all this. Nobody was really revising, though everyone had “sheets” in their hands. The same old teacher-brief followed when Dr Khan enlightened us with his wisdom. We made our entry into our laboratories after a short and sweet Mr Bloud prayer.

I began my escapade with titration. Soon I, and well we, switched into the same old panic gear. The titration required our solutions, which were in the conical flask to be heated, and there where no flames in the physics lab. Screwed. We did have water baths though, but they weren’t really working with the flasks. We did try, and Basheer did almost burn his hand, but all we got for our efforts were broken flasks, exploding stoppers, toppling solutions and a big scare. We were definitely not ready for this. So the whole jing-bang of "authoritative figures" came into the room trying to rectify this problem, with each one trying to outsmart the other. Special cooking-stove-like structures were then brought in. The water baths were satisfyingly manipulated, and 25 minutes later, the titration experiment actually started making sense. But it didn’t need to make sense, because “pssst, 20.1” – go figure.

Organic was easy. We all know why – as Omar (yes Ali, your brother) said, Basheer Zindabad! But even besides him and his great services, it was indeed easy. As we prepared to dive into our mixture analysis, another “psssst…pass it on” occured. So, anyway, mixture analysis was a breeze. We did show all our confirmatory tests to the examiner, now didn’t we? Everyone came out of their respective labs happy, showering wedding congratulations to our man Basheer, and greeting their fellow compatriots with toothy victorious smiles. Everyone got everything. Yay!

Shrivats broke all records today. He asked for an extra booklet to supplement his 16 pages. But my sources say that he wanted to “re-write” the entire paper in thirty minutes because he has scratched something out somewhere. Now something like that confuses me - Should I increase his odds or decrease them? Govind, Bharath and Unmukt seemed un-distressed, so umm, their odds kinda remain the same, though I have reason to believe that Unmukt has more drive, but as I discussed with you Unmukt, there is a fine line between confidence and overconfidence. Ali is getting full as usual and he might actually get additional marks thanks to his seduction skills, Ritesh is doing “brilliantly”, Tejas actually got everything this time, so I think I need to cut him some slack and get rid of one of his zeros. Romit, Yuvraj, Ashiq and everyone else I can think of did well. The girls also seemed happy and the “external examiners” were just awesome. Dr Khan was so tensed, until the end, obviously.

One of the external invigilators, who happened to be some football coach of some school came to me in the middle my grade 12 board examination and whispered in my ear, “So you finally get the cup, hai?”

Anish and Ali couldn’t stop laughing during the car-ride home.

P.S. Odds for “Who Will Top?” as they currently stand:
Bharath 3:1
Shrivats: 3:1
Govind: 3.001:1
Unmukt: 3.5:1
Tejas: 780800:1

Current Investments: 0 – you cheap bastards.

Memoirs of ISC 2007 – Physics Practicals

2007-02-19T03:17:00.000-06:00

I sleep really well last night. Just before, I had filled my ‘pencil’-box with loads of pens, pencils, rubbers and so on, made sure my clothes and lab-coat was ironed, my admit card was around, my alarm was set, my bag was packed and my face and only that was shaved. The physics practical exam doesn’t require studying, apparently.

By 6:20 A.M. Ali, Shayaan and me are in Shayaan’s mum’s car, and after the usual check-ups, there is an eerie board-like silence. Yup our boards have finally begun, and so has the tension and the studying, and the increasingly periodic excretion. But back in the car, I scold Ali for laminating his Admit Card – don’t do it, ever, the ‘authenticity’ (thanks Zafar) of an official document no longer remains once it is laminated. But then Ali commits greater sins, first of which - he forgets to sign the friggin’ Admit Card before laminating it, and second, he lies to us about it, only to confess later on. Loser.

We arrive in school earlier than we should, only to realize that Aaron, Rubin, Tejas and the remaining Sharjah gang reached school at 5:30AM – an hour earlier. Brilliantly safe, you guys. After the previous English Language experience, any earlyy arrival time earlier is better. However, it is now that the board-exam nervous-feeling starts to disappear. A lot of laughing at the same Rohith-jokes, a lot of singing of the same Ali-Tejas songs and a lot of random talking-updates follow. That’s what I am going to miss most about school, the same old same old fun =). Anyway, Bharath enters, and is greeted with a bowlful of love (hugs) and a chorus of Happy Birthdays, by everyone except Rohith. Why? Rohith has forgotten his lab coat. All the jokes don’t seem funny any more, and he actually switches into panic gear, but thankfully, only temporarily.

Finally the time to be half-serious comes upon us. Reshmi Ma’am gives us the potential-could-be answers, and the last minute reminders and tips. We line up, the girls on one side, boys on the other, and Mr. Joseph above us, on the stairs. The external examiner, who has flown in all the way from India, as in THE man, is late. So Mr Joseph unleashes on us the longest and brestest-sorry best-est of prayers, and we finally move into our respective laboratories.

The paper is simple. But I still end up messing up the first, easy Optical Bench experiment. It’s my turn to switch into panic gear, but I calm down after manipulating and rectifying the stupid error. There is a randomly fascinating moment amidst all this. Basheer, our school’s lab assistant, moves to each table, and mumbles random numbers – 33 2 35. Hmm, interesting. Anyway, one experiment down, one to go.

The second electricity experiment seems easy-peesy. But I screw up. The supposed answer is 2, and I know it’s 2, but even after manipulation I can only get 1.64. I put all the blame on the stupid Ammeter, it couldn’t stop vibrating it’s God-damned stick. Anyway, I might lose a couple of marks there and for potentially S.I. Unit related mistakes. Damn.

But as Dr Khan said, the ISC exams are very student-friendly, and today's paper (+ the "experience") was a little more 'friendly' than it should have been, but hey, I am not complaining. The after-shocks and the after-hurray’s were the usual. A lot of confirming-your-answers-with-the-Physics-teacher took place, though different teachers gave us different answers (yeah Aaron, confusing, though I sincerely hope that the Mrs. is right).
From what I’ve heard, a certain Linda hit the nervous breakdown button, but relax girl – you will be fine. Tejas’ ultra-manipulation didn’t work for Question 1, Ali kicked-ass and is getting full, Shayaan got some weird slope for question 2, but the right final answer, Romit seemed satisfied but confused about his P-resistor’s value, Ameya seemed satisfied with a 15 on 20, the girls seemed to have been generally rocking, but Aarthy T seemed a little distressed, the twins were as confident as ever, Unmukt seemed more worried about reprimanding Mrs Balachandran for the apparent false-news that she was spreading and Bharath, my man, seemed to have hit the nail on the head, but Govind’s paper involved a lot of scratching. Hmm, that might make me want to reduce the odds for him.

Ali had a very child-filled entertaining bus-ride home.

P.S. Odds for “Who Will Top?” as they currently stand: (investments start at a minimum of 50 fils)
Bharath 3:1
Shrivats: 3:1
Govind: 3.00001:1
Unmukt: 4:1
Tejas: 7808000:1

Memoirs Of ISC 2007 - Prelude

2007-02-19T02:17:00.000-06:00

It's time for another memory-sustaining phase on this blog. Our fate-less, pain-in-the-ass ISC Exams have finally begun, and I don't want to forget the good or the bad experience it might turn out to be. So these future posts might contain painful details, and intricate, incomprehensible tit-bits which might be only for me to get and a few others to laugh about. So ignore, read, enjoy or hate it. And for those who actually give a shit (as in can relate), please feel free to add your own experiences too.

To all my fellow ISC and ICSE exam givers, and umm also to the regular school exam-givers - Good Luck!

Oh one interesting part though, in the race to have your name printed on the school boards as ISC topper, I am betting on Bharath and Govind, and obviously supporting them. Kick-ass guys, all the way, though a certain twin will definitely be competition.

P.S. Fate-less for me, so Bharath don't jump on me! And umm, a few betting odds as to who might top, that you might want to consider investing in:
Bharath 3:1
Shrivats: 3:1
Govind: 3:1
Unmukt: 4:1
Tejas: 78080:1

"Dear Diary…"

2007-02-13T04:44:00.000-06:00

Everyone has kept a “diary” (especially you women) at some point in their life, in which they have blurted out their “deepest and darkest secrets” and emotions and feelings and all the other rot. Our “diary” is generally a substitute friend in which we vent our hearts out, which we would actually have preferred doing with a living breathing reacting soul instead, at least I would have OR it is this source of amusement ten years down the line when you are laughing your buttuties off at the fact that you were once such a kid. Anyhoo, yesterday, while “studying”, I came across my “diary”. It had only one entry in it, written all the way back in the millennium year. On the cover I had made a movie-like effort to write “STOP”, “DON’T TOUCH”, “DANGER” and all the other rubbish with white-ink. It was an old book, so I stapled the first few pages to make it look new, and wolah! – I had a new “diary”. This is how my first and only entry exactly went:

Today it is the 25^th of Jan, 2000, the tuesday :-

My life is ruined. I, being only in 5^th have to study so much! How can I study for 6 hours. There is a limit for everything. My sister is in 2^nd year of college and she dose’nt study for 6 hours per day. I cannot go for the football tournament on thursday if I do not study well on wednesday. I cannot do down(stairs) to play football except for wednesday and thursday because this is my final term. I have friends who are in 6^th, 7^th, 8^th. They are not studying as much as I am. Now when I tell this to my parents they say, “Do not compare.” And when my friend gets little higher marks than me, then my parents say, “Next time you should get higher marks than him.” Is’nt that comparing!

My computer had gone down for repair for 3 weeks. So I couldn’t play computer for 3 weekends, that is 12 hours (I got to play 4 hours per weekend on those days). And then when the computer comes, I get my time of 4 hours, not even 6!

Nothing is going my way, not at home or at school. I am not getting good grades in my projects cause I am not getting information. I don’t have information at home. So I have to get information from the net. But the computer was’nt there for 3 weeks. So no net. Now that I have got net, I haven’t got ‘Microsoft Word!’!!!

In my cricket match, I feilded well but bowled not so good. But it was my first over of the tournament.

---------- 0 ----------

Which match? – Don’t know, don’t remember, so don’t ask. By the way, that was a completely unedited version of the entry, no grammar check, no punctuation correction and no additional masala added to make you go ‘=O’. Surprisingly the entry didn’t have any girl related issues, which normally make it in most of these diaries, especially those pink ones.

I remember Tejas started a diary in 10^th grade – yeah he was real grown up then. And well it was really unique, he wrote, for a week I think, every single detail of that Ali did. 'Ali looked at me', 'Ali laughed', 'Ali dug his nose', 'Romit!', 'Harry is crazzzzy', 'Ali is guitar', 'Ali and I went up to Mrs Joshi and screwed Romit over, and Mrs Joshi loves Anish'. Now if you ever get hold of that, either you’ll get annoyed reading it or laugh your asses off. We do the latter.

P.S. If anyone doubts the 'veracity' of the diary entry, please feel free to ask me to show it to you if you ever make it to my place. =)

An Animal Instinct Indeed

2007-02-11T02:43:00.000-06:00

Galtee Merci, The “Hero of Irish Agriculture”
"Ireland's most prolific bull, which is thought to have fathered at least 100,000 daughters and countless sons and boosted the country's milk output, has died."

An Obituary

7^th February was a day of great sadness, when the doer of all good that Irish Agriculture saw, miserably ran out of steam, and passed away. This mighty soldier who fathered at least 100,000 daughters and numerous sons, has moved on, to explore greener pastures and deflower the divine, in the heavenly abode of God. His William’s services have resulted in the desired pervasion of his kind – the spread of bull-ality in Ireland. When there was no other like him, this beast moved into “rescue-gear”, and BANG – everything came into place. His pleasurable actions saved a country from agricultural peril, for he made maximum use of God’s most private gift. This beast’s never-ending supply of masculine eggs and his stamina to out do the done substantiates his greatness. His passionate anti-celibacy and his celestial health made a perfect combination for producing the very best of his kind – protein-laden, and with premium milk quality. For ten years this fighter penetrated the impossible, and helped his country’s agriculture extensively, and all he needed was his most private God-given gift(s). A genius indeed.

May his soul come to peace.

P.S. Don’t believe me? http://www.4to40.com/newsat4/print.asp?id=817

Concentration Problem

2007-02-05T14:34:00.000-06:00

I got up 1 & ½ hours later than I should have today, took my time in the bathroom, read the paper like it was the last time I will ever read one, ate a banana, studied Probability, took a break, had lunch, continued with the “short-break” and ended up watching Saving Private Ryan, which is awesome btw, and Harold & Kumar Go To WhiteCastle, which is decently funny, after which I logged on to Youtube, Facebook and MSN to watch, seek attention and chat, respectively; I then played PES 4, which is an awesomely addictive game, and followed that up with an hour of sleep, to wake up and realize that it’s dinner time, so I ate a scrumptious home-cooked low-fat dinner and then got very frustrated at my inability to study, so instead of studying I ended up doing something half-constructive – writing our farewell speech; which I was somewhat successful in, but which may be a little long for 'their' liking, and note: I was still MSN-ing and Facebook-ing during this process, after all multi-tasking is the best way to lead a life, followed closely by actually studying, instead of writing a one-sentence blog post at midnight, and now all that I have left to figure out is – should I sleep, or study all night?

P.S. Apart from the title, this post has no connection with the earlier post(s).

Connection Problem

2007-02-02T15:25:00.000-06:00

A “connection” is never one way. But what if this ‘law’ doesn’t always make sense? Maybe I am confusing connection with attraction, or maybe it’s a mix of natural desperation and attraction. But I feel it, and I know I feel it. But she doesn’t, so it’s one way. But I always believed that you can’t feel for someone, without her feeling back for you, because the reason you feel for her, is because she feels back for you. It’s this two way thing that gets it going. She responds, and waits for your response. She wants to know why you couldn’t say ‘hi’ to her the last time you saw her in school, and you feel good that she feels that way. So develops what you think is a “connection” and a “desire”. Yeah? Well not really, at least this time, so the whole idea I once had about “Half-Understanding Human Psychology” takes a trip, because well, the most important aspect doesn’t fit into the jigsaw. So I get confused, and well I am confused, and hope to learn something from this, and then come up with a better “Half-Understanding Human Psychology” theory.

P.S. This post, I write, because I don’t want to lose the emotion that I am currently feeling. So forgive me if it’s annoying.

The Last Official Day...

2007-01-31T07:20:00.000-06:00

31st January, 2007. Wow. School is finally over. Finally? Haha. No more of fighting with your sleep in the morning, no more of sitting in boring Chemistry classes, no more annoying sessions of prep, no more “punishments”, no more of “volcanoes” and other annoying people, no more of dealing with school politics, no more childish cat-fights and no more minor acts of homosexuality. That’s it. It’s all over - a hurdle crossed, a bar cleared, a mountain conquered, a story written, the Section A of “Life” is over. Wow. I should be happy and glad for my childhood prayers have been answered, right?

But then why is it suddenly so difficult to accept? I have been waiting for this moment (and of course, also for end March), and now that I am experiencing it, I just want to rewind, or relive, or continue in the same old cycle, with the same old people, enjoying the same old friendship, the same old flow of love (however corny that sounds), the same old sense of belonging, the same old same old. It’s difficult dealing with attachment, detachment seems almost impossible.

Today was full of contrasting emotions. First was pride. Our slightly younger peers, i.e Grade 11, blew me (us) away with a beautiful rendition of voices and passion. Then the hypocrisy seemed to seep in, not from them, but generally, and that left me wondering negatively. Loads of pictures, rehearsals, autographs (weirdly enough), hugs and smiles followed. I felt happy and sad. Happy for I would be running away from the wasteful and unnecessary politics and wrongness, and sad as I will not get to spend time with those genuine people that I have genuinely grown close to. Sad - more, for I will miss the pure stupidity that elated us, that moment of immaturity that broke my heart, only to mend itself into a stronger one and the pure respect and love that I and we received from those that saw well in us. From the subtle encouragement of our teachers, to some moments of their sheer brilliance, to their acceptance of our failure, to their respect for our honesty, to their company for our pleasure, to their guidance and support in times of our weakness – it just blows me away. There is so much good and bad, but to appreciate the good and learn from the bad is to make the most of what you get.

It is confusing, this emotion. I know I will miss school and that I will always have this un-destroyable desire to return to school, but at the same time I know I have to look beyond it and dive into the realms of what the future holds for me. I will miss our school and the people I have grown to love, but I will not forget them and those that have changed my life, and taught me it’s greatest lessons. I don’t need signed shirts to do that. I will forget the bad, and make my own soft hours to which I can turn to. This contradiction leaves me almost emotionless – I can’t believe there is no more school.

P.S. Attachment can be a source of annoyance, but it’s the greatest sustainer. Wow – now I am philosopher. Anyway, I still have 2 months of studying left, the before-party, the farewell dinner, the board exams, and the Sports Day to look forward too. Not quite completely over yet now, huh?

"Love's Sweet Salute"

2007-01-27T08:25:00.000-06:00

Movie: Salaam-e-Ishq
Length: 220 minutes = 3 hrs 40 mins
Feedback: Fake, 'Faltu' and Filmy

How long can a movie get? How pathetic can acting become? How boring can a feature film be? Salaam-e-Ishq answers all of the above questions more convincingly and satisfying-ly than any other film I have seen to date. It broke records - we actually walked out after the interval.

Why? It’s as if the God wanted to make a really bad film and thought of taking it out on Bollywood. “Inspired” from the classy English film ‘Love Actually’, Salaam-e-Ishq couldn’t go that wrong now could it? Well it did. Sprayed with “un-inspiring” songs and road-side acting, I cannot really point out any positives. Yes the caste seemed very impressive, but figure the following: Vidya Balan is not bad, but is un-pretty and fat; John Abraham is John “too-cool-but-fake-ironed-hair” Abraham; Salman Khan is the epitome of fake + annoying; Priyanka Chopra is fatter and fake-r than ever; Govinda is half decent, but annoying to people who have a general disgust for him; Anil Kapoor hardly speaks a word, but a random, hot, young girl kisses him on the cheek for doing her a small favour, and thus begins a desperate extra-marital wannabe love-affair; Akshaye Khanna is the best over-actor ever and Sohail Khan ridiculously just doesn’t ‘get’ any, but the car in which he is trying to “do it” does fall into his parents’ new house through the roof, but no one dies.

Basically, it was utter bullshit, which was not funny in any way, and this we figured after watching 90 minutes of it, only 130 minutes were left when we walked out. Now if 90 minutes can’t sustain you…

Fine, I guess a story can never, and should never go wrong when it comes to love, but this movie proves even that wrong. As an Aaj Tak reported put it, somewhere within the Fat Lady that is Salaam-e-Ishq, the Thin Lady is waiting to burst out, but the friggin’ flab is too much of an obstruction. I laughed a lot during this Fat Lady. I laughed at the crowd which laughed at the lamest of jokes, I laughed at the ridiculousness of the film, I laughed at Salman Khan for he is one funny pain-in-the-butt and I laughed at myself for paying 35 dirhams to watch this film.

So my advice – don’t you dare watch Salaam-e-Ishq. And if you do, please feel free to walk out whenever you wish. You can enjoy the sheer stupidity of it, but even that gets annoying after some time. To me, this movie is a definition of what not to make and what not to see, so if you are still trying to figure what that is, then it’s a must see.

P.S. It was my sister and my cousin who “forced” me to watch this film.

Penn Masala: The American-Indian Talent + For Facebook Lovers

2007-01-23T09:48:00.000-06:00

Penn Masala - in a nutshell - they make me proud! They are a bunch of Indian students studying in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania who have formed an A Capella group. They are the first group in the world to play Hindi A Capella songs, but what's brilliant about them is they way the bridge cultures and mix styles inculcating English, Hindi and Arabic in their songs which are vocally excellent. My favourite covers by them are "Aicha" and "Maa Tujghe Salaam". You can hear their music on - www.pennmasala.com

I got to know "Penn Masala" through this awesomely hilarious video made by them. It's titled "The Facebook Skit".

It's funny, plus the singing is awesome, and the redone words of Enrique's "Hero" are brilliantly intelligently funny. They have so much talent, and I hope they make it bigger than ever! Kudos and good luck to them.

P.S. Friggin' inspiring.

Becks In The States

2007-01-14T09:39:00.000-06:00

" It's tantamount to a semi retirement isn't it? "
-Gary Lineker on Beckham's move.

Totally. It's an escape, with a hint of exploration for Becks, and family. Obviously, Becks’ PR agent is brilliantly diplomatic, for all his public statements are a hundred percent politically and “for-good-image”-ly correct. Apparently he is in it only to raise the "soccer-bar" of the USA. Right. But credit to David on that. How much ever he does get the stick, there is this general radiation of genuineness in Beckham which must be appreciated. But his wife? Well let’s just leave that bit to the “Insider”.

Let us first understand the enormity of this contract – 128 million pounds of 5 years – yes 128 with 6 zeros, to play for an American “Soccer” Team, in country which calls the age-old game of football, “Soccer”! All in all, the moneys adds up to about 26 million pounds a year, and about 490,000 pounds a week, which is about 70,000 pounds a day. Yes I know everyone can do the math, and everyone knows the “figure(s)”, but I need to reiterate – It’s a bloody large sum of money! All I am saying, Mr Beckham, is that, being Godly is all good, but a sum like that would attract even Him. So it wouldn’t be all that bad to admit the fact that, well yes, the money is a ‘fair’ factor, and along with that, “I can also bring about some growth in the MLS, and take American “soccer” to another level” and the other rot. A good counter on that statement of mine would be that Becks has enough already with all his endorsements, so more of these “paper-notes” wouldn’t make that much of a difference to him, but humanity and Posh are different. We humans spend a lot if we can and so does she, maybe her a 'little' more than we can, and when you have 3 mouths to fill, you need that much money now, don’t you?

Sorry, that does sound a little harsh, but sometimes it’s so glaring that we debate only because of the severity of the situation, which goes beyond reason. Let’s not do that. I feel the money is one of the major factors to David's departure and a sum like that will always be - just accept it - no one’s going to kill you. Another "factor", according to me, is Posh. The Hitler-Beckham would love to go the States right, and to Los Angeles? Jackpot!Well to put it nicely 'the family' would love to spend time in one of the most livable places in the world. Now if one women could get a reward for the highest amount of ‘influencing-of-a-man’, it would be the spicy Victoria. From the wackiest haircuts that sometimes even the most open minded people found horrendous (though some were actually good), to the wrongly spelt Hindi-‘Vhictoria’ tattoo, Posh has shaped the pink-man that David is today. Well she is his wife, so it’s not all that bad, but ever since the one thing he is half-good at, “football” has gone no where. His hair, his tattoos, the children, the money, some more hair and so on have been the center of his life. But then, we shouldn’t take anything away from David, after all the best men are the family men. But Davy-boy, let's leave all that apart, just tell us gossip-hungry sadists the real reason for your new pursuit - that’s all I want.

Maybe I am making a big deal out of the family factor and the female-Hitler, but hey how deceiving is what appears? We will never know. So for my selfish pleasure, I write this half-sadistic post and try and ridicule the living day lights out of the Beckham family.

David Beckham’s right foot is legendary in its own way – but then, that’s it. His time at Manchester is also legendary, but since Madrid, it’s been downhill battle for him, and Posh hasn’t really helped. Will Beckham do any better in a “Galaxy” far, far away? Will he “revolutionize” American soccer? I really don’t think so.

MLS commissioner Don Garber said in a statement: "David transcends the sport and is a cultural icon. David is clearly one of the most recognizable athletes in the world”.

I say: "David is clearly one of the most recognizable male-fashion-icons of world, beyond the little football he can play with his right boot.” But then who the hell am I?

P.S. I superficially apologize for the harshness, but my views stick.

Hot Or Not?

2007-01-08T02:16:00.000-06:00

Bored? Don't know what to do? Feel like judging people? Feel like being superficial? Want to be fascinated? Go here and click away: www.hotornot.com - Relax it's not porn, on the contrary, it's "fun, clean and real". Enjoy your moment of pure sadism and required stress-relief. Sometimes judging people is all we can do, so why not do it to those who actually want to be judged?

What the sites does is, it gives you a picture, and asks you to rate that picture on the scale of 1 to 10. That's preposterous, right? Come to think of it, it's unbelievable, the site that is. About 26 million people from all over the world have registered their pictures, and over 12 billion votes have been counted. Now more than a million people can't be wrong. Right? Wow. But I have to admit, it is a little bit of fun. :P

You can add yourself to the "Hot Or Not" list too, but I don't think I want to end up seeing my picture there. Right?

P.S. "Dhruv" (the 8th commenter on my previous post) - Thanks for the link - fascinating...

3 Months...

2007-01-06T04:06:00.000-06:00

3 months and then F R E E D O M - that’s how I like to look at it. But I complain, and keep complaining. I just have to bring up the now age-old debate – “The Indian Syllabus & How Bad It Is…Or Not” - I am writing a book on it. For the look-a-likes, India Today hit out on the Indian Syllabus calling it an “all rote” experience, and a survey of 30,000 students made them conclude that the Indian Syllabus is way behind the international standards. Apparently the 30,000 Indian students’ survey was good enough for researchers to prove that application-wise most Indian-System-bred Indian students can’t be compared with the international-system-ly bred students. Right. It's true, we sometimes just can't apply Newton's 3rd Law, but then how do we still end up doing well? I think we Indians are just too darn hard-working – and that is the greatest lesson the Indian System can inculcate in us, but then, that’s it.

I am not here to enlighten the already enlightened anymore about how wrong the Indian System is, I am here to complain. I hate this time. Beyond the personal stuff, which always gets messed up at this time of the year, the studying has got to me - B I G-time. There are like a billion distractions, and if I can’t find a distraction, I make one, like reading “Aquarius”. Who does that? I watch Al Ahli V Al Wahda on the television, and convince myself as to how “The Bold & The Beautiful” actually has some substance. Facebook is friggin’ addictive, and I can’t stop eating.

At this point, I wrote another 400 words on how I hate “this time”, which I have no intention of putting in, because it’s too darned whiney. So to sum it all up: I can’t, and I mean, I cannot wait for these 3 long, dreary, painful, fattening, annoying and BORING months to bamboozle themselves out of my God-forsaken life.

That felt good – venting helps.

To bring in a little optimism or dreaminess – there is so much to look forward to as soon as the ISC exams end. Ideas and dreams start erupting one after the other as I seem to plan out every single day beyond the trauma. There is so much to do, football, work, Redial Entertainment, salsa (hopefully), football, gym, football, University, and just the ability to watch television for hours without feeling guilty about it. Bliss…

…is 3 months away,

P.S. I think, and only think, that “rote” is a new Indian term for “mugging” as in memorizing. Please do enlighten me if I am wrong.

2oo7

2007-01-01T07:53:00.000-06:00

A supposedly “planned” out day almost fell apart thanks to well, “God” and a few other “betrayal- of-trust” people. Okay, We ditched the booze-ful, dance-ful and event-ful party atthe Ranches because it was completely contradictory to our definition of fun. But, we heard a lot later of the eventful night that was at the Ranches. Right. Anyway, the highlight of this day was supposedly the football match between the ex-students of our school and us, the current students. But hey, quite obviously the ex-students didn’t show. Hell the guy who was “organizing” the ex-students himself didn’t show up. Thanks Kumar! But credit to Josie for being a darling, and blessing us with his half-hippie presence. So what started of as a would-be formal match, ended up as Man Utd fans v/s Arsenal fans match (kinda), in which the lucky-asses of Man Utd won. Fine and damn. It was fun, none the less.

The “match” gets over, thanks to another cheap ass goal from the Man Utd wannabes, and they win. Exhausted after 3 hours of passionate football we finally breathe. I apologize to all those affected by my uncalled-for and abusive “football-outbursts”, and then thank Dusty for the balls. It is now time to head for our next endeavour, The Beach. But first we decide to freshen up at the ‘always-and-forever’ hideout/second-home, Romit's House. God bless him, his mum and his dad for their whole-hearted acceptance of us, and or 200+ DB noise level. We take turns to shower, and Ali picks up the guitar which clearly signals the most entertaining aspect of any party – Singing with the Best Guitarist ever. We sing the classics; enjoy the flatness of Romit and Harry, while SK, the quiet and bored observer plays TEKKEN 4. Harry comes up with a new song which Tejas encourages, but Ali almost ignores. Ali’s vibrating vibrato than resonates the room, and then enter antagonist – my headache. Okay before any Ali erupts, it’s not because of Ali’s vibrato, nor because of Harry’s and Romit’s flat voices, but because of the dreaded passion of mine, football. 3 hours of heavy football in the cold, cold, "desert" of Dubai seems to have gotten to my head.

Bharath and the rest of the Gang B enter the fray and meet us at Venus Deluxe Restaurant in Karama, and this happens to the be the most entertaining aspect of our day. Vegetarian food at a cheap-ass, but brilliant restaurant, with 10 other guys, turns out to be the highlight of the day. Tejas' & Ali’s balloon is dressed while we wait for a table. Apparently we are the not only people who end up at Venus for new years dinner. The food we order comes quick, and above all is scrumptious. Everyone enjoys his complicated-concoctedly-named dosa. Bharath’s “Dry Gobi Manchurian” is a hit. We order 4 plates of that, and well each one of us eats our heart out, rekindling the memories of the by-gone year and well, our by-gone lives, in which one of the highlights is a certain senior male computer teacher. Then the bill comes, and we are filled with unexplainable joy – 10 Dirhams per head – that’s how much it costs. This makes the dinner even more satisfying. There is nothing like good, cheap food. Call us “losers”, “faggots” or whatever else, but Venus rocks! Meanwhile, my headache, despite the Panadol, is still pissing the hell out of me.

It’s 11. We desperately want to make it to the beach before 12. I struggle with an aching head, and Harry, the sweet guy he is, offers me his Santa cap. Everyone else is hunting for cabs. But all we find is a hundred other people waiting for cabs. We see an empty cab, but the bastard doesn’t stop for us. He prefers to give the Filipino chicks a ride instead. Ass. We give up cursing all the frustrating frustrated cab drivers of Dubai who can be such…well we just give up. Time to revert to a previously non-existent Plan B – Romit’s play area. Romit’s house/building saves the day yet again.

It’s 11:45 and my head is still spinning. I get annoyed. We are running to make it Romit’s roof on time for new years. The gang races ahead, my headache pulls Tejas, Govind, Bharath and me back. We lose our way and get temporarily lost in Romit's corridor. The clock strikes 12. We are still in the corridor. Wow. New Years in a Corridor - simply brilliant. Tejas and me just look at each other and smile, and memories of previous New Year nights race into our heads – Burjuman, City Center and City Center – 3 places of our 3 previous New Years. Yeah, laugh on.

We finally make it to the roof after wishing a party of random people “Happy New Year” on the way and then observe the environment-unfriendly-but-half-amusing firecrackers that light up the sky. It’s then time to wish the people we care about “Happy New Year”. Hugs are exchanged and so are messages and phone-calls. Clichéd-ly ‘awwww’. My headache is still pissing the hell out of me, and therefore I decide to spend the night at the life-saver Romit’s house. Harry & Ali go randomly missing having well a “chat”, anyway I hope there was nothing sexual about their escape. We get a little scared when Ali tells us that he pissed in Romit’s building’s Sauna. What the hell was Harry doing? Observing? Anyway, I ignore, at least then.

We have our “honest” talk at Romits, and then Harry leaves. My head is still spinning so I sleep, and soon the rest follow. The end. But not the end of my head-ache – because the annoying piece of shit still haunts me when I get up. For everyone who still doesn’t get it – its painfully annoying to have a headache on New Years.

New Years is over-rated. It’s an excuse to celebrate, but it’s fun none the less. I celebrate it, and that is a little hypocritical (sorry Ali!) in its own way. But hey fun is fun, and even if New Years eve wasn’t the funnest of fun, it was still an experience.

Happy New Year to everyone, however random you are to me. Let’s hope this year is greater, more eventful and more fruitful than the last. Enjoy…

P.S. A long post, but another memory successfully created.

Facebook please?

2006-12-25T04:23:00.001-06:00

The latest guilty-pleasure to rapidly pervade through the world-wide-web is Facebook! So first step for all non-facebookers should be: Get a Facebook, quick. [http://www.facebook.com]

Why? It's one the best ways of keeping in touch with people. MSN Messenger is good, this is a as good, if not better. The beauty of it is its user-friendliness and it's really easy build a network of randomly connected friends. Picture-uploading is awesome, and shite easy and wall-posting is brilliant. It's easy, not complicated, and very, very addictive. It keeps you updated on everyone you want to be updated on even though you are too scared to admit so. :P

Not convincing enough? Ask anyone who has a Facebook! In short, get one, it's worth it! And add me. :P

P.S. Merry Merry Christmas to everyone, especially to Jesus' followers.

Dubai International Film Fest – DIFFing Around

2006-12-18T13:39:00.000-06:00

I volunteered for this “prestigious” festival, thanks to a few ads in the newspaper, some positive Ish-related motivation and due to the convincing nature of the DIFF website. For all the hype it created, DIFF was just okay, at least volunteering-wise. Fine Shah Rukh Khan showed up and got jumped by the usually fanatically over-eccentric gals, and so did Richard Gere – wow! Old ‘Hot’ Guy – YAY! Stop making such a big deal out of it. *8-|*

Initially when Romit and I went for the “Volunteer Recruitment Session”, I was awed by the good organization and the convincing positive speeches, making it sound as if volunteering at DIFF was everything you could dream of. I have to give it to Bob and the gang – we volunteers were treated too damn well. We got Dhs 45 vouchers to places like Dome and Schzzam for our “40-minute” lunch or dinner breaks. Obviously, “40 minutes” didn’t happen, but a couple of hours did. We got a lot of goodies, a lot of free screening vouchers, a funky-enough t-shirt, a lot of food and a lot of ‘make-us-feel-important’. Well done you guys, but hey, face the facts. We volunteers were actually doing shit. We were tearing tickets, clicking counters to count the number of film-watchers, ushering guests, ushering guests to the other ushers, flirting with the so called “hot girls”, eating great food, making once-and-only friends, and trying to feel important. We weren’t even half important. I feel they had enough paid ushers (the ones in the blue shirts) to handle the event. Also, there were just too many of us volunteers to the extent that unthinkable jobs were being created. This was so over-free-employment.

Okay fine, maybe I am being a little too negative. I must admit I had a decent time. I definitely enjoyed the food and got to know a couple of really nice and interesting people who I hope I will keep in touch with. I also got to know a group of DPS guys, who knew me (somehow) and found out why our school is so much better and more intellectual than the other Indian schools. These DPS guys were cool, but were too damn Bollywood for me. They were worried more about getting the most funked out phone than anything else, and what blew me away was that they were trying to justify themselves. Though one of them did genuinely entertain me, all of them were automatic-unintended entertainers, if you get what I mean. Fun-fill-ment indeed. I also got to spend time with a long lost friend who I only only meet when this other person is in town, whether this other person is there with us at that moment or not – weirdly enough.

I attended 2 of my 3 shifts. The first one was at the Mall Of The Emirates which was half decent – had a scrumptious lunch at Schzzam with 5 other people out of which I think I will never see 4 of them again. Note: At Schzzam there was this really awesome Magician who really and brilliantly, truly brilliantly entertained us while we awaited our food. Tejas, this Spanish Magician-dude would have made you go madder than you have ever gone before.

My second shift was at the Madinat Arena, i.e. The Red Carpet Zone, which was also half decent. Ishika was great company on a very ‘honest’ day (go figure) and so where the other 5 people who we will also, probably never meet again. Food was once again scrumptious, but painstakingly late at the Dome. We were eating like kings. Anyway 2 half-decent shifts make one decent experience, right?

Bob and the other Volunteer-In-charge people did a good job of handling the volunteers. The problem was that there weren’t enough genuine volunteers. Some wanted the girls, some wanted a learning/fun experience (like me :P) and only a minimum few actually wanted to make the most of this Film-Fest experience, beyond just the ticket-tearing and guest-ushering. And that was kinda sad to see.

When it comes to the Dubai International Film Festival itself, it was glorified with all the “big names” and the “big movies”. It was just about putting forth a grand image of the festival. I almost fell into the superficial “grandeur” of the event, but thanks to a local film-maker, I was bestowed with the right facts. A film festival is not about “big names” and “big films”, it’s about showcasing those off-beat films that don’t make it to the cinema theaters. It’s about giving an opportunity to the opportunity-less in a rapidly growing industry. It’s not about showing popular films that will hit the theaters soon. DIFF failed to uplift the true essence of a film-festival. Yes it did make an effort by hosting an Local Short Film competition, but there was too much concentration on the popularity aspect of films. But I guess the commercial approach is important for the sustenance of the festival. But so much of commercialism? Maybe not.

P.S. Any experience is an experience, good or bad, and it teaches you something or the other. So I apologize for the pessimism.