Category Archives: What. The. Hell?

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 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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Weird, ainnit?

Depression and melodrama seem to be a collective group thing. You see one person down in the dumps and next thing you know BOOM! everyone’s feeling miserable. I was feeling low some time back. Am not fully recovered, but I am better, which is what being depressed is all about.

The reasons behind my mood swinging and the bitterness and stuff are something that never change:

  • Career, or lack thereof.
  • Paranoia.
  • Academics.
  • Finances.
  • Self-doubt.

Somehow, I have trained myself to refuse to acknowledge anything to do with emotions. I don’t know why I do it, I just do. And in the process, I have trouble figuring out what it is that I feel. I don’t understand a damn thing.

Do you ever have this feeling where the person you really want to see at some moment in time is also the one person you do not want to see at that moment?

But that’s behind me now. At least I hope it is. My 3rd sem results are coming soon. Fuck.

 It’s gonna be… A Glooooooorius Day! I feel my luck could change…

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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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My life is becoming way to fictional for my own good.

It’s gone from being a Monty Python-esque absurdist comedy to something far more dangerous. My life’s becoming a Neo Noir movie, minus the graphic sex L!!

But first, “I went to them thaar Venky’s. Again. I came second in the quiz. Again.” This is becoming annoying! This quiz was literally gifted to the Stephanians (or is Steve-anians? Ste-pun-ians?). Thanks to our seating arrangement, we scored ONLY from direct questions, whereas Stephanians got around six or seven passed questions. Sitters, too! So it goes.

The prize money was in the form of a cheque addressed to me. We went to the college branch of Andhra Bank to get it cashed. We expected a good amount of bureaucracy and were hoping to get the cash by today itself. The manager looks at the name and asks, “Telugu?”. “Yes, sir.” (In telugu) “Oh! Me, too! Came second in the quiz, eh? Well done. Well done. Just sign behind the cheque. There you go. And, what do you think of the college? Did you try the Vada-Sambar at the canteen? It’s really good here. Well done, again. Congratulations and everything. Here’s your money.” Vernacular saves the day again!

After this was when the excreta really hit the overhead rotatory cooling device! I had to go to Dinesh Kapur’s house (IIT Campus… right behind it) to pick up my copy of ‘Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance’, a book which I am finally reading after nearly everyone I know has suggested that I do so. I was exhausted and was dying to go home.

The AIIMS flyover. I had to get to the other side to board one of those call-center cabs that give you a lift to Noida. I head for the underpass. There were no lights. Pitch dark. I was three-fourths my way there when…

This is true. Including me thinking. It’s the ONLY skill I have. In a pressure situation, I think like crazy. The ol’ noodle works real fast.

I’m grabbed from behind. The assailant tries to put his arm around my neck, gets the base of my neck and shoulder instead. His other arm lands on my leg, where my wallet is and he frantically tries to shove his hand in my pocket and grab it.

Till now, I didn’t react. I did come to three conclusions, though:

  1. This guy is shorter and probably weaker than I am. I could tell that from his arm and the fact that he was pulling me down. Drug-addict. He stank.
  2. He is extraordinarily stupid. I’m larger than him, he shouldn’t have attacked me. Plus, his grip is not properly around my neck and he didn’t try to correct and tighten it.
  3. The reason I didn’t react all the while is because I thought that either he’s armed or not alone. The moment he reached for my pocket with his other hand, I knew he’s screwed.

I’d had a bad day. I needed this, maybe. I ran backwards and this poor fool ended up between a wall and my 85-kg bulk. I probably broke one of ribs in the process of slamming him thus. Obviously his hands slumped and he clutched his chest, cursing in some indecipherable hindi-bhojpuri dialect. I replied with a “Motherfucker!” and aimed a brilliant kick in order to end any hopes this asshole had of ever becoming a father. In hindsight, I realize that wasn’t necessary, but I don’t regret it. He started it!

Now cometh the moment of truth. If I’m faking, I’d add some amazing gang and me beating the shit out of them and finally, finishing the leader with a cool punchline. But since it’s true, all I did was run my ass up to AIIMS and quickly hide in the crowd… watching the underpass all the while. No one came out. Less than 30 seconds later, I got a HCL cab to Noida.

ME MACHO-MAN! ME BEAT SOMEONE UP! ALL HAILING TO ME!

I’m just thankful. I’ll probably avoid that underpass for some time now.

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