Monthly Archives: May 2008

A Dialogue of Shortcomings

“I came in my shorts”

“You WHAT?

“I came in my shorts, alright?”

“Jesus Fucking Christ, dude! How? Why? What the…”

“Listen, it was the most embarrassing moment of my life. I was humiliated in front of her!”

“But… you knew. You can’t claim the surprise factor did you in!”

“I didn’t know we were going to do it right then! I would’ve been prepared! I don’t know what to do, man! I mean… I didn’t even know!”

“But you said she’d been giving you hints!”

“Yes, I knew she wanted to… but I didn’t now right now! She should’ve told me what she had in mind on the phone, at least!”

“What exactly happened?”

“Well, she called me over. I didn’t know what was going on, or I would’ve done something. I turned up there and saw her… God, she looked amazing! She was wearing this red dress, the kind you usually see on Bond girls. And it made her look so hot! I mean, every feature of her body was captured flawlessly by it. She looked stunning, like a vision, a goddess. There was nothing in the world that could’ve possibly distracted me from the sight of her. I was so enamored that I didn’t notice…”

“Don’t tell me that… Oh, no! She didn’t point it out to you!”

“Yes. She did. She looked at me and then looked down and noticed. She didn’t say a word. But from the look in her face I knew what had happened. She then finally told me in a voice so cold I was surprised that someone so beautiful could muster such fury, ‘You’ve come in your shorts’. There was something in the deadpan way she said that and I knew… her love for me died that very instant.”

“Now that’s not fair! She can’t not love you just because you came in your shorts! It’s an honest mistake!”

“Not in her eyes. Then…”

“Then what?”

“The concierge of the restaurant arrived at the spot. He took a look at me and gave me one of those looks of snobby distaste.”

“Dude! This IS embarrassing!”

“Yeah. First he didn’t say a word. I think he was trying not to laugh. Oh, how stupid I must’ve looked! When he did finally open his mouth, all he did was remind me that in a restaurant of this class, you MUST wear trousers or you won’t be allowed inside. Even jeans weren’t allowed!”

“And you went there in your shorts!”

“Dude! I didn’t know! She’d told me for some time that we’ll be going there, but when she called me, she just told me the street. Not that ‘We’re going to the restaurant’. Jesus!”

“It’s alright, dude. Apologize and take her there. And this time… SUIT UP! Let’s just hope that this doesn’t affect your sex life!”

“Yeah. I’ll do that! And dude, stop correlating everything with sex. Fucking immature douche!”

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Some like it in the pot ten days old…

Edit: I wrote this post almost ten days ago on my internet-unabled desktop. I write stuff like this and name the document after the time and date of writing, which is why I’ve the edited the timestamp.

This entry was supposed to be about something else. It was supposed to be about dreams and how we as adults are no different from children when it comes to expectations from themselves. It was about unrealistic dreams; how I saw things that made me think about the nature of dreaming and expectations. About how we want things that we can’t possibly get.

But then…

Let’s start from the top. I had an exam today. It was a utter and complete disaster. The pass mark is 18 out of 60. I think I attempted 16 marks worth of questions. I was devastated. Which is strange because I’ve given more bad exams than good ones. The last paper I was satisfied with was my 10th standard pre-board Maths exam where I got 96. So, I haven’t done a paper well in 4 years. Hence, I shouldn’t be surprised or devastated or even disappointed with my performance. But I am. As I gave the paper, there was only one thing on my mind: “That’s it. This is the end. 2 backs, my future’s over. Forget GRE, give CAT and do a fucking MBA from some fucking IIM or something. You can still become a Professor, maybe. You can do PhDs in Management, right?” If anyone doesn’t know what I’m talking about, I have believed that the hallowed MBA route is relatively easier for me than most other people. But what I really want to do is a PhD is Particle Astrophysics (or Quantum Cosmology. The field’s so new that it doesn’t quite have a definite name!). However, with 2 backs and one of the single-most atrocious GPAs in human history, that dream looks all but dead.

At around 4 in the afternoon, I found myself at Gulmohar Park. I looked at things through whatever it is that is the complete opposite of Rose-tinted glasses. All I could see was misery. People and their illusions. Hopes and dreams that will only end up completely obliterated. Then…

It’s absolutely incredible. One person is all it takes to make you feel better. The rant just died inside me. It’s 2 in the morning now and I feel good. I don’t know about whether or not I’ll stick with my dream or just do an MBA. But I feel good knowing this: There is someone by my side.

Perfection in human beings is regarded as impossible, but I’m beginning to doubt that. Relativity applies in personal relationships. Space and time are not absolutes, but depend on the observer’s frame of reference. So is perfection in human beings.

The unusual bit is; the one thing I never believed in, the one thing I never gave a fuck about, the one thing I thought is an insipid invention and a meaningless waste of energy is the only thing I have in my life that seems to make any sort of sense.

Thank You.

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YOU WILL RESPECT MY AUTHORITAH!

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Not the title I wanted to keep…

I actually planned on writing a post entitled, “The Art Of Cunnilingus”. Just to observe the reaction of my loyal readers. But I decided against it because: a. I don’t think I’m someone who garners readership through shock-value and b. I’d end up on PageRank results for Cunnilingus… the consequences of which are too dire to contemplate.

It’s still exam time. I hate the timing of these exams. The weather is absolutely fucking amazing! It’s been raining for the last two days on end. I had a great day yesterday. A great morning, to be precise. I fell asleep in the afternoon to take my quota of sleep in the last three days to ten hours. I woke up and since then have been feeling… unusual. I saw some South Park and followed it up with a healthy dosage of Black Adder (courtesy: n(00)b42). While watching the stuff, I felt great. Now, I just feel… unusual. I have reasons to be extremely happy indeed. But can my neurotic mind handle it? Ah! Now that’s a question worth asking! Is my mind capable of handling happiness?

I’d like to come up with a lengthy and highly convoluted theory for this using such logical tools as Godwin’s Law, ad homeniem attacks and circular logic. But I don’t feel like it. Maybe it’s the weather. The weather reminds of Bangalore. Of a time when I thought I was actually capable of something. Now, well… you know how things are!

The weird bit is that I am fundamentally the kind of person who prefers solitude to the company of peers. Yet, meeting someone would make me feel a whole lot better. Strange are the ways of human emotion. Insipid and strange. I’ll stop talking now. Listening to ‘I Might Be Wrong’ over and over again.

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TROZ is ZORT backwards. TROZ! TROZ! TROZ!

Here’s where the title’s taken from.

It’s an amazing day outside.  Which is irony, really. After what happened yesterday. Oddly, I’m not really saddened or affected by it at all. And that’s not a good thing.

I’m in a dingy underground cyber cafe. I’m sweating while there’s a cool wind and a drizzle outside, so I’ll end this soon.

Neil Gaiman is not in Delhi, thank you.

And I have exams to study for. While all I really want to do is travel. To Leh. On a Royal Enfield Thunderbird. The route is simple:

  • Delhi – Chandigarh
  • Chandigarh – Reckong Peo
  • Reckong Peo through the Spiti Valley into Lahul and eventually, Rohtang.
  • Rohtang – Leh (one of the world’s highest motorable roads)

All I need is someone to accompany me.

Till then, try listening to Coldplay’s latest song, Violet Hill. I like it. Good Day, folks!

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Dead Leaves, Dirty Ground and a Broken Left Finger

I’m under the impression that my blog has reached its peak, its crowning glory, the height of its achievements. And whatever I write from now on is just meaningless rambling on a webpage that’s on its way down.

Is is really over? Have I, in just three years, said everything I have to say?

I broke my left index finger a couple of days back in a nasty bike accident, so I’m having quite a bit of trouble typing this.

Otherwise, things are pretty alright.

I’m now allowed to sit for ALL but one of my exams. Looks like the goddam institute finally did something for me.

Practicals were… well… forget about them. Let’s just say, my Metrology viva ended with the external examiner shouting at me to “Get out! Get out now!”. Nice!

I have little to say right now. Nimish is working on making an application for the previous post’s idea. Dada blogging.

Will get back if I deem it necessary. Or something.

 

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