Monthly Archives: July 2008

John Cleese Ki Jai Ho!

This post has very little to do with John Cleese. I just decided to name it after the first thought that came to my head. Then it dawned upon me that I’d better not do that and named it after Mr. Cleese instead.

My Dad’s laptop is still AWOL. Which means the two DVDs I got from the British Council on the day I left Delhi are lying here unwatched. They just happen to be:

  • How To Irritate People – *ing: John Cleese, Tim Brooke-Taylor, Michael Palin, Graham Chapman and Connie Booth.
  • The Best Of Monty Python’s Flying Circus vol.1

Thank You. A little part of me tried to contain my frustration, anger and sadness at this unexpected, but also quite obvious turn of events. That part collapsed into a very tiny black hole before it perished in an insignificant little explosion that resulted in a near-lethal shower of gamma radiation.

Moving on, I was planning to get some posters printed for my room, but that didn’t work out either.

And… that’s pretty much it! I’ve been watching TV all day, everyday. Num3ers, House, Jonny Bravo etc. Yesterday, I got sick of watching TV all the time and decided not to watch anything till 8 in the evening. Summarily enough, Baseketball – *ing: Matt Stone and Trey Parker was on HBO! Hurrah! I will kill someone now! And is going to be very nasty indeed! Yay!

The only thing I’m thankful about is that I found an mp3 lying around my house which had this album on it. Phew! Blessed are thy souls Thom Yorke, Jonny Greenwood, Ed O’Brien, Phil Selway and Colin Greenwood! Blessed are thy twisted, electronic-jazz-alternative-experimental retarded genius souls.

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Silence! I Want To Hear Silence!

The title is a quote from one of my middle-school teachers. Ah! What noble and gifted souls are those who have been allocated the responsibility of enlightening the young ones of our nation. And the consequences of such an “education” is what this post is about. I’m not going to say a lot because my mind has not been working very well of late. Just view the photographs, and if you cannot read Hindi… I guess you’re kind of lucky.

In other news… Ram Guha’s ‘The Last Liberal’ was freaking amazing. This man is now officially one of my favorite authors and is still the reigning ‘Best Indian Author in English’. Will probably buy ‘India After Gandhi’ after all, regardless of how expensive it is.

And J.M.Roberts’ ‘History of the World’ is… well… it’s well-researched, sort of well-written, concise and academically quite good. But I feel, and this is a personal opinion, that the book is full of negative undertones. There’s white supremacy: his exhortations as to how the first major civilisation in the world, The Sumerians, were Caucasians and how it reached it’s zenith under Caucasians is kind of, excessive. Even if the Sumerians were Caucasian, it really doesn’t deserve the amount of attention he gives it. There are also quite a few sexist undertones along with a lot of pro-Europe bias. But, I might be wrong. This isn’t my area, I don’t know anything about history to actually form any opinion to counter Roberts and so there is a very high possibility that what all these negative undercurrents are just me interpreting his book in ways I shouldn’t.

Anyway, I’m with the folks again. Can’t wait to get back to Delhi. And if this post has invalidated DK’s last comment, it’s because while typing this… I can hear Butters singing What What (In The Butt) . Trey Parker. Matt Stone. Thank You!

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Dance, Gappa, Dance!

I don’t know how many people read my friend Swati’s blog… but I guess it’s better to give MY side of the incident she is referring to here. More specifically, to the following comment:

who knew it took harish a couple of beers to get it going on, he “danced” to some famous punjabi song.

My friends… They strive to make me look like an ass. Something people had hitherto thought impossible believing that I’ve already reached the pinnacle of stupidity, only to realize – as Albert Einstein put it-

Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity, and I’m not sure about the former.

Now then, my rebuttal is divided into three arguments:

  1. It didn’t take me merely a couple of beers to start dancing. It took me a considerable quantity of rum (Old Monk, neat) and more than three bottles of beer. Unknown to you guys, I was stealing beer from the guys at the plush, white sofas next to us. You know, the school kids who were under the impression that the under-25 rule is actually enforced and arrived wearing false moustaches. So, I was considerably tipsy.
  2. The reason I danced to Punjabi songs is… well, I’ve been taught how. There! You happy now? In my two years at KV Gole Market, many of the 76 people I shared my class with were complete assholes. But there were a couple of nice chaps too, one of whom took it upon himself to teach me how to do the Bhangra. Another wanted to teach me how to speak Punjabi (I’ve forgotten most of it with the exception of paynchod , vellaetc.) A third used to keep me updated with the latest happenings in the Punjabi Pop music scene. If it wasn’t enough that I was forced to listen to the latest songs by Jazzy B or Mika on his i-Pod, he would also explain the damn songs to me and sometimes give me a line-by-line lyrical interpretation.
  3. Usually, I only dance while in my room and listening to Idioteque. But there are times when you cannot help but get into the rhythm (no matter how pathetic). This was one such occasion. General debauchery, making a complete arse of yourself in public and doing things you swore you’d never do are how a friend’s birthday is to be celebrated while in college. Plus, a few messages from the right sort of person helped.

Anyway, I’m off to Lucknow tomorrow. Meet the folks and eat some home-cooked food at last! You’d think I’m happy right now. Having a great time and stuff. But I’m not. The Marvin vein is throbbing away and I don’t know why and how to get rid of it. I don’t want to be in Noida right now. Or Delhi, or Lucknow or Hyderabad or Bangalore. I probably am in the right frame of mind for an astronaut who’s about to be blasted off on a decade-long mission to colonize one of the large lumps that orbit Uranus.

In other news, I’m reading Ramachandra Guha’s ‘The Last Liberal’. It’s an oustanding collection of essays about Indian icons (I’ve read it upto Satish Dhawan) in Guha’s inimitable style that blends solid historical analysis, anecdotal humor and a brilliant style of writing that’s intellectually challenging and yet, easy to read. It will be available at the British Council Library, Delhi tomorrow. I’m also reading Isaac Asimov’s Book Of Facts. Classic!

And in a last-ditch attempt to salvage my dignitah in all this mess, dancing in a pub/club is not the stupidesst thing to do while drunk. Watch South Park’s season 3 episode, ‘The Red Badge Of Gayness‘. It includes an opening sequence where Cartman enlightens us with his views on how drums are to be played:

You don’t just hit a drum, you beat the crap out of it. (begins pounding his drum. heh-heh, pounding his drum…) Shut your pot-hole, you fucking drum!

So, there!

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Engineers? Who? Where?

My summer training has supposedly been in progress for the last month. In this time, we have had to go to college 18 times. And today, we had our first lecture. Did someone say farce?

The people who gave these lectures noted the utter and complete lack of interest, dedication, motivation and attention amongst the students present, so they droned on for barely more than an hour each. The weird bit was… these were perhaps the first lectures in my two years at this here “college” where I actually felt we were learning something close to what an engineer ought to know. Did someone say charade?

The 40-minute FEM lecture was conducted by a man who claimed to have a Master’s degree from IIT-Roorkee and Fellowships from Universities in Italy and Greece. I guess he did, because his accent had equal traces of all these three places. Did someone say mockery?

Semi-knowledgeable though they were, all our guest lecturers were united in their commitment to making one, grotesque mistake. They kept referring to us as ‘Engineers’. Whathafuck? ME? An Engineer? HAH! Did someone say satire?

In a series of events that is probably related to the gist of the above-mentioned (which has been written in a manner that clearly shows my bloc hasn’t gone anywhere and now I’m wondering if I ought to write at ALL…), I’m now rekindling my interest in subjects I had speculatively wanted to make a career in of when I was young. Stuff like Anthropology, Paleontology, Ancient History, Philosophy etc. Did someone say burlesque?

Did someone say absolutely anything at all?

 

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Do Looks Matter?

This time it’s Redoable Lite.

Awaiting further reactions.

And as for ME:

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