Category Archives: Taureum Excretae

Older and, hopefully, wiser

I’m not going to use any gimmicks in this post. No protracted sentences. No loquaciousness. No references only understandable to certain people. It will just be my attempt at simple, straight, hard facts.

I have often complained of how life throws shit in my face. Whined in wangst at fate and the tortures it puts me through. And I did nothing about it.

A mining analogy:

We are all digging for gold, diamonds and other gems (ideological and literal) to enrich our lives. And some of us happen to hit a drainage pipe and end up with a pile of shit in our beloved gold mines. I am one of these people. People try to assist you out of this (in this analogy, literal, but otherwise metaphorical) shithole. And I was no different. Except that I didn’t use them to get out. Rather, I almost pulled them in.

Now, I’m through.

If I whine again, shoot me.

It is time for action.

But first… A few words which I have to make known public.

The people I knew while I wrote this blog over the past 4 years have defined this era of my life. An era that is reaching its end. And they deserve my thanks. I will not hide any details, by the way. If anyone here would like me to; say so and I will give you my id and password for WordPress. Knock yourselves out.

First, and most important:

Monisha Vemavarapu: Venom, SuperMon and a million sobriquets. No one has influenced me as much as she. Currently in London on an exchange program, she is dating a large, oafish, somewhat paranoid, whiny, self-obsessed and neurotic nutbag. I feel that she perhaps deserves better; but she’s a wiser judge of such things than I am. No one I have ever known has ever evolved so much so quickly. When I first was re-acquainted with her, she was a wild, kranti-kari, ultra-modernist pseudo-hippie. She is now one of the most level-headed determined and pragmatically intelligent people I know. I will be frank: When I first met her, both online and in person, I felt I was the superior individual. But I must now concede this title to her. She has proven herself to be a most fascinating person and one who accepts a random destiny with an élan that I wish I possessed. Monisha is one of those people who you just know will not fade quietly into the night, and will leave a mark on the world. I find my vocabulary failing me in my attempts to describe how happy I am to have known, and know, this singularly unique individual. I sincerely hope that we will never become strangers through providence or (more likely) some ridiculous action of mine.

Nimish Batra: After working at Infosys Technologies in Bangalore, Nimish is now pursuing a Master’s degree at the University of Florida. Nimish’s jesting misanthropy was what really resulted in our ever becoming friends. We shared in our fandom for Douglas Adams, I introduced him to Radiohead, and he introduced me to Monty Python. But in our protracted one-downmanship contests, (held periodically over the internet, the telephone and in person) I believe I learnt a lot. And perhaps too much. I appreciate and respect him for a lot of things, but I must say that what applies to me in a large measure applies to you too… Stop whining. Shut up and live. The thing about Nimish that few people get is that he is a genuinely warm-hearted person. Try visiting his home in South Ex, and be amazed at the hospitality shown by him and his family. One part of his brain has the capacity to make him do what’s necessary and drag him across the finish line while the other part is kicking and screaming. As long as that former part dominates the latter, he has nothing to worry about. Genuinely.

Dinesh Kapur: Decay is currently working in Gurgaon for a sustainable ventures firm whose name I can never remember, but it starts with a W. (edit: WinRock! It’s WinRock!) His George Best old-school footballing skills are no longer useful to him in the modern game much like my Karl Marx old-school thinking skills are of no use to me in the modern world. As I’ve often said; this man is a kindred spirit. We’re almost alter-egos of each other. Decay is someone who I can trust to understand my point of view on a matter, usually because he’s been there before. Like Monisha, Dinesh is someone who I feel is destined for far bigger things in life than he can possibly see now. And like Monisha, is an individual in possession of far too many talents, such that it looks unfair to the rest of us.

Anupam Guha: After a successful stint at the Georgia Institute of Technology (where he completed a 2-year Master’s course in a year with a perfect 4.0 CGPA), Guha is currently in Ahmadabad, working for a company that pays him to essentially be their poster-boy. His relationship with Anupama (who I’ve never met properly) was much joked about (my contribution was the idea for “Anupam (1+a)” wedding cards) in college. Oddly enough, it appears to be highly likely that theirs’ will be the first marriage of a friend that I will be a guest of. The conversations on every topic under and beyond the sun were, and still remain, much appreciated. Even the ones where we vehemently disagree. And his conviction to “save” me and show me that humanity is worth saving might just pay off. The path of the wannabe Bushido-ist is fraught with many perils, I joked of him. Well it appears that he intends on making these words an eerie prophecy. Much like a Katana, he has forged his tamahagane worldviews by repeatedly putting it through fire, folding it and beating the shit of it. And that’s why Guha will probably end up as that rarest species of all: A happy, intelligent man who is satisfied with his life and the world he is living in. Or we’ll embark on our plan for revolution. He’ll be Trotsky, I’ll be Stalin… Minus the backstabbing, of course.

Ashwin Murali: After half a year of working 80-90 hour weeks at Citibank, he’s now at his palatial penthouse in Nasik preparing for a second MBA. Ashwin’s greatest trait as a friend has been his ability to listen to me constantly abuse, demote, shout at, vilify and generally insult him for over 3 years with a patient nod and that irritatingly reassuring stupid smile. He set me off on a tangential path in my worldview, for which I still hate him by the way, but it might perhaps lead to a better future. You better hope it does bro.

Akhil Garg: Working at Accenture in Hyderabad, his tryst with the Alagappa family continues as my sister was his HR rep as a trainee. We have both learnt, very late, that we weren’t as bad roommates to have as we thought. Perhaps immaturity came between what could’ve been a far more rewarding friendship for us.

Swati, Priya and Ankur: Swati is working with Wipro in Bangalore while Priya is doing her Master’s at the University of Sussex, I believe. Ankur is doing his Master’s at IIT Kharagpur. I drove you guys away from me in a fit of madness and have regretted that decision since. My yet unfinished college life would have been far better if I had not done that.

Nitesh Bhasin: The entrepreneur and fellow backlogger. We really dump on you more than you deserve. The fact remains that if you hadn’t taken the effort of befriending me in IP University that day, I wouldn’t have gotten to know a lot of the people mentioned here. You’ll either end up in jail or in Forbes. Have fun in Vegas.

M.V. Harish: Another man at Georgia Tech, here’s to perpetuating the “crazy Telugu mofo” image with me. Keep it real with the brothas in the hood in Atlanta. We’ll meet up in a gun shop or seedy beer bar someday.

Many others ought to feature in this list, but I feel it has become so sappy, your monitors might have started leaking already; so wait for another epiphany and moment of emo-ness.

Seriously, I have so many epiphanies; it’s hard to tell which ones are genuine.

Oh, and I almost to mention… This post formally ends this blog. There will be no more posting on Chaosverse any longer. Frankly, I would like some order. Unpredictability and randomness are, as always, welcome; but I’ve had it with the chaos.

I would like to delete this blog, but perhaps will save it. Someday, the people mentioned in this post will look back and this and other posts and laugh at the naivety, stupidity, folly, and immaturity on display.

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A Short, Meandering, Pointless and Badly Written Story

Gasp!

He was awake.

“What time is it?”

5 AM.

It was a torrid slumber. He had two styles of sleeping. Either he slept in a manner that could make a casual observer confuse him for someone dead or at least in a comatose state or it was a sleep punctured by sleepy, incoherent muttering peppered with the occasional swear or three and sudden awakenings where he would jump out of his bed with an unexplainable adrenaline rush that would rapidly dissipate as he struggled to decide what he should do now that he’s awake and fresh before he felt sleepy again. Sometimes he would wake up, sit in a corner and contemplate about absolutely nothing, but contemplate nevertheless.

He decided he wanted to take a bath.

It was cold; unseasonably cold for a mid-October morning. He didn’t know that he was shivering while asleep and even though the cooler in his room was switched off by his room-mate, who was watching ‘The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford’ on the nearby desktop, there was a discernable chill in his room. His feet would’ve felt the cold floor if they weren’t sheltered by the socks he had been wearing continuously for the past three and a half days. It should be “almost continuously”. He had been wearing them throughout with the exception of ten minutes a day, when he removed them to take a bath. The left sock was blue and a very good quality one he had got as a free gift when he bought a brand new pair of shoes from Reebok (He had two pairs of shoes, both bought from Reebok. He didn’t even like the company that much). The free socks were the least they could give him in exchange for his act of brand loyalty. The right one was white and had been bought two weeks ago at a department store which were selling them at 149 bucks for three pairs.

He headed for the bath room he shared with 4 other people. The space between bath and room is accurate, as it wasn’t a bathroom – the toilet was a separate room. A pedantic individual might’ve described it as a bath cell. A normal human being would feel claustrophobic inside it. At 6 feet 2 inches tall and 85 kilograms, he was larger than a normal human being and felt constricted having to bathe in a room where he couldn’t move in any direction without stubbing his elbow against the wall. The floor looked clean, but that was a misconception. He opened the tap and stared as the water filled the plastic bucket, making a racket which he believed would be sufficient to wake the person in the room nearby. He touched the boundary of the water with his fingertips, gauging its temperature.

“Cold.”

He went outside.

“Cold.”

“Redundant.”

He went downstairs to the kitchen and opened the fridge. In the freezer lay two plastic bottles, each filled to the brim with the regulation two-liter capacity. They had been there all night and were just beginning to freeze. He pulled both out and went back up to the bath cell. He emptied the bottles into the bucket and let it fill. He took of his clothes and stood there, waiting. He touched the water again. Better, he thought. He couldn’t imagine how, but there was a cold draft in the cell. He shivered just a bit. He continued to stare at the water, feeling it occasionally with his fingertips. He would’ve liked it to be even colder. He finally lifted a mug, dunked it so that it was three-quarters full and then lifted it to eye level. He took a few drops and rubbed them across his eyes. This, he thought, will sting. He took a deep breath and lifted the mug over his head. He breathed out, slowly and emptied it over himself.

As he felt the frigid water pour over his body, his closed eyes allowed him to see his biggest fear. He could never describe his biggest fear in the form of an abstract noun or even a proper noun; which is why he was perennially inconsistent with replies to any question whose gist was ‘what are you afraid of?’. The answers ranged from darkness, ignorance, failure, death, a life filled with mundane mediocrity and bees, wasps, hornets and any insect that could fly and sting. In reality, his biggest fear was a scene. It featured him in the middle of the Antarctic Ocean on a cold winter’s night, floating with the support of Athe-knows-what in waters you couldn’t see through because they were that cold and the night was that dark. All around him, all he can see are heaving waves that somehow never reach him. Then, he would see below his feet the form of the largest animal to have ever existed on this planet – a blue whale. Though he knew it subsides on plankton and poses him no predatory threat, he would feel an unnameable fear that was darkness, ignorance, death and insects with stings and wings multiplied and raised to the power of a googolplex. If the same creature were to turn and then break through the surface of the water to take a breath and release a mixture of air and sea-water from its snout, he would at that very moment die of sheer terror. He continued pouring the frigid water over himself and felt his thoughts shift from his fear to his memories. He felt a funny taste on his lips and instantly recognized it.

“You have to be kidding me.”

For someone who doesn’t eat a lot of fruit (unless you count mango shakes), she does taste very fruity. Like apples or strawberry ice-cream or the 3-rupee raspberry icicles you used to get at Bethany High.

Another mug of water over his body. This time, he thought of the drawing he saw somewhere, of how fashion was at the top and nature at the bottom. He then hoped that the “artist” meant nature in the way physicists talk about nature, as opposed to environmentalists. He thought about how nature encompasses everything. Right from him, a dung beetle, the planet Earth, the Andromeda Galaxy and vast tracts of general emptiness between our galaxy cluster and the next. He decided to try to always refer to the environmentalists’ interpretation of nature (trees, animals, clear lakes reflecting the snowy peak they’re situated next to…) with a more accurate word. Biosphere will do.

He was finished with his bath. He didn’t wipe himself off with his towel; instead he just wrapped it around himself and went outside to the balcony to feel the cool breeze against his wet body. This innuendous act complete, he retreated to his room and dried himself. He put on his socks, the blue Reebok on the right and the white local on the left. He wore his clothes, he can’t remember what. He rarely remembers what he wears. He lay down on his bed and went to sleep. He woke up three and a half hours later by shouting “What!” thrice in a row.

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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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A Collection of Modern-Day Pictograms…

Advice: Expectations are the worst thing you can ever inflict on yourself. Especially expecting yourself to do things that aren’t needed.

Note: Goddam it! I’m writing this and all of a sudden, my mp3 player starts playing Behind Blue Eyes.  Second level-10 freaky coincidence (sign?!) to happen in less than 24 hours.

Right-o, advice: Being a loner, and one of those “Fuck you and what you think” type loners to boot, I’ve never mastered the art of impressing people. So when I try… I end up coming across as “angry, irritated” or what is more likely, “creepy and exceptionally stupid”. So, kids… Don’t expect to do great things. Do what you have to, what comes naturally and most importantly… relax.

I’m really irritated and angry, though. At myself. Maybe I ought to… I don’t know what to do. The system. Laziness. Incompetence. Ability. Thoughts. Emotions. Love. Hatred. Freedom. The illusion. Stupid. Intelligent. Woman. Man. Dream. Reality. Dream. Dream. Dream. Day dream. Consciousness. Lack of. Evolving as a person. Untrue to your word. Hypocrisy. Diplomacy. Grammar. Spelling. Research and Planning. Lack thereof. Excess. Deficient. Over-hyped. Under-rated. GO AWAY! (Please don’t leave me! )

A horrible new day will dawn. Everything will cease. I will finally be…

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MONKEY!!!!!

The ads for Foster’s beer have always been at the helm of creativity… so here’s a new one:

FOSTER’S – AUSTRALIAN FOR BEER!

Hypocritical Bastards.

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More Philsophical Muttering…

First and foremost…

A big THANK YOU to the person who inadvertently(?) led me down this path. Keep saying “Random Blah”.

Now that the end-sems are over… I may enjoy a week/month of fake pride before I see my result and wallow in self-pity. A seven-point something? An imaginative ion in a pathetic little college in Hauz Khas (you know, the one behind JNU and opposite MIS?) confused my end-sem exam syllabus with his class test syllabus. That, of course, was NMST, an easy subject. I guess our Fluid Mechanics and Solid Mechanics syllabus was up to some standard. AND we have full-fledged Aerospace Engineering next sem, not the “Elements of AE” we just finished. Aerodynamics, Propulsion Systems, Structural Analysis, Metrology and MATLAB (or is that next year?). But where was I? Ah, yes. NMST. As I said, an easy subject. However, it annoys the hell out of me. I can’t study the damn thing, because I end up getting pissed off.

Why?

Simple. Some of the formulae we have to learn are  NOT BEAUTIFUL! This lead me to In Rainbows and 15 Step.

How Come I End Up Where I Always Started… How Come I End Up Where I Went Wrong?

How come indeed.

I was an insomniac ever since… birth?. I miss sitting alone in bed and just… thinking.

I used to think that questions about the “meaning of life” and the “quest for the purpose behind reason” et cetera were just pseudo-intellectual pieces of crap. The true questions which I elevated to Valhallic (neologism inventor, am I) proportions were stuff that looked like they came from a Stephen Hawking book (one of two of them actually did!). “Why are Relativistic Gravity and Quantum Mechanics Incompatible?”, “What was the origin of the universe?”, “What is the true nature of space, time and chaos?” et cetera. That kinda changed after some time. That’s because I realized that these were castles built on infirm foundations.

Et Cetera, et cetera. Facts for whatever.

But the word Random“… that got me thinking. Science is built on firm, logical reasoning. Randomness or Chaos (Random and Chaos are after all, the same person in different forms. Chaos results from Randomness and there is no such thing as a Random Cosmos) are not ideas that remain restricted to the realm of logical reasoning, but overlap into abstract thought.

Abstract thought is something that no-one has ever understood properly. However, it’s potential has never been tapped to its full limit. What we need is to somehow incorporate the essence of abstract thought and random-chaos into logical reasoning.

I have ideas, but nothing more…

Info-scions will shout “Thief!”. Hail to me, then… MUTHAFUCKA!

And as everybody’s favorite band from Oxforshire said…

Don’t get any big ideas. They’re not gonna happen

to be continued…

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Run, Children, Run!

Aha! Your diabolical plans have been found out! Fiends!

Ever noticed that all that separates a friend from a fiend is ONE measly little alphabet? Should’ve been an indicator of some sort. A warning bell of which I took no heed.

Was reading Akhil-dasroommate-I’mgonnasulkmyassofmotherfuckers-Garg’s profile, and what did I see? A testimonial from Swati that says, and I quote:

(…)we have lots to do in life, get harish married, make sure his kids arent THAT spoilt(…)

WTF?! 

Are these people my friends or spies from my parents? You guys think of getting married at 19? Nine-fucking-teen? And worse, you think of getting ME married off?

Haven’t I made my stance on marriage quite clear already? Maybe, it’s a good thing; maybe it’s not. But I know for sure that if there exists on this beautiful planet of our’s a human being who is fundamentally un-marriable… ’tis me. And as for the kids part, that warrants an explanation.

You see, my views on parenting are quite different from most others. I feel that since ALL the people I know want their kids (pause: Yes. I know people who have clear-cut goals as to what kind of kids they want to bring up… and they’re in college. For e.g.: my sister (aged:22) has already decided what she’s going to name her kids. The above mentioned Swati has gone one step further and has already decided that her kids will follow in mommy’s footsteps and study in AFBBS. Many male friends I have want to send their kids to Doon School. Err… guys, make your own life first, please?) resume: to grow up to be a successful, good looking, 95+%-scoring, captain of the school football AND Debate team, Head-Boy/Girl type. So on one fine occasion when I heard this inane topic crop up again, I expressed what are my genuine views on parenting. I (very important point here, you bring up your kids nicely, please) am going to make my kids (if I have any, that is) the most spoilt, arrogant, lazy pricks to have ever existed.

Harish: “What’s the matter, son?”
The Boy: “Failed ANOTHER exam”
Harish: “That’s alright. How many girls have you laid?”
The Boy: “Oh, around twelve… if that includes faculty… fifteen-ish”
Harish: “Faculty?”
The Boy: “New English teacher. Just passed out of college. What a piece of ass!”
Harish: “Did you fail English?”
The Boy: “Nope. Topped the class. She wants to see you at the next PTA Conference. ;)”
Harish: “That’s my boy!”

This, of course, excludes the SUV of his choice by the time he’s four- alright, fifteen.

As for a girl… well well well…

Gucci, Armani, Prada, Versace, D&G, Dior et cetera… the cabana boys… the cars… the parties… you know the rest.

As for my friendish fiends (or rather…), just try and stop me!

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