Lullaby

An induction motor
Turning in my head,
Perfectly in phase
With what was being said
By a dreary monotone.
Sandman descended
To switch off supply
To the flux in my head.

An Excerpt from Hardy Potter's diaries

(Hardy's adventures so far- episode 1, episode 2, episode 3)

So here we are, Trichy, India. I had a rough time in the bus to NIT, and somehow, I feel that it's going to get more hostile. Nancy is drpping with sweat, and that's washed away all her makeup. She looks like Emma Watson now, yeuch.

Anyhu, we entered the gates together, only to be stopped by a strange khakhi clad man with a huge potbelly and a bigger moustache. He looks at us and asks, "Thambi, which year? Which state? Which hostel?"

I looked at Nancy, alarmed. She nodded assuredly at me and started speaking, "Sir, the year is 2008, we're from California, and we don't live here. We just came to investigate the possible extinction of humankind." She gave him one of her 'thankyou' smiles.

The man did not understand a word. He just stood there and looked at us. More at Nancy than me. I was considering punching the guy in the face and running, when someone behind me spoke.

"Is there a problem?"

It was a tall guy sporting a t-shirt that had weird figures on it and a caption which said "Something, somewhere went terribly wrong". He seemed to be our age.

"Yeah! This guy won't let us in. He doesn't understand what we're saying," I said.

"I'll speak to him," he replied, and turning to the weird man, he said something in the same loud, nasal dialect that we had heard so much ever since we reached here.

"He says ok. Let's go."

"Thanks!" said Nancy.

"You're welcome!" he said, blushing slightly. What is it with Indian men and blond chicks?

"Let's catch an ice cream while we talk, shall we?" he suggested.

"Sure," I said.

So he led us about a kilometre into the wasteland, where a group of shabby shops had sprung up, not unlike an oasis. There was an ice cream place there, and I was amazed at how they got a huge bull to guard it. But then I remembered, hey, these buggers worship them. Probably returning the favour. We walked in and sat down.

"You guys didn't introduce yourselves, I'm Siddharth Mahesh, but my friends call me Mapute, or just Mapu."

We mumbled introductions, but I was curious about his nickname, and I asked him.

"Oh! It's a long story. But it has a nice tribal zing to it, doesn't it? Anyway, let's order."

We walked up to the counter and saw the menu. Very imaginative spelling. They somehow seemed to convey that they were special, not like any other ordinary ice cream place.

So we had our ice creams, and Mapute paid for us, despite my protests.

"Hey," he said, "I'm an NRI! Let me do my job!"

I didn't know if that was National Resources Institute or Negative Refractive Index, but neither seemed to make sense. I didn't enquire.

...to be continued.

Kodaikanal: A Photographic Expedition!

We started out on one hot sweaty evening, with high hopes of rest and relaxation at beautiful Kodaikanal. And what you see on your left was our means of transportation. I have heard of Air Buses and stuff, but this definitely was a first.

The journey was bumpy. The bus was small and cramped, it just about held 47 of us. But the ride wasn't as bumpy as my friend's nose to your right.





We were all very tired and some of us were not used to the altitude. Like my friend here.
We finally reached Kodaikanal at about seven in the morning. We stayed at "RJasmine Gust House". Surprisingly, it wasn't really windy!

We rested a while and got ready to see the sights, and as the Kodai tourism people put it, the "Seeneries". Come to think of it, it was my second time in kodai, and i had already "seen" most of the stuff there...






And we went to the following places, among others:
1. Pillar (or is it "Piller") Rock.
2. Suicide Point: Here, we were requested to "Put the waistes in the dustpin" and avoid smoking to "save the forest fire"!

The other places we visited were not as eventful so we returned to the gust house. We played rummy and bluff until after midnight and went to sleep. The next day we boated and then returned to college in our spare bus. I could not find any more images to reminisce the trip with, but it was one awesome experience. And the rest of us couldn't agree more...

Well here we are...

Where am I? What is this place? Why are all these people here? How do they live their entire lives in this God-forsaken hellhole? Are they superhuman? The next step in human evolution? Or are their olfactory nerves severed when they are born? How else can they bear the unbearable Trichy odour? And how do they live right in the center of the same mind-numbing stench? So many questions, so little answers...
These and other thoughts ran through my mind as I sat on a bus to Chatram bus stand. I was going to buy textbooks. A harmless expedition. I tried to guess where we were by the stench outside. Thiruverumbur has sort of the smell of a thousand people who have never seen a deo in their lives, a very strong BO. As you go further, the stench changes to resemble a hundred year old compost pit in a state of pure putrefaction, highly toxic, hell, captain planet would've given up. And when this stench ends, you know you've reached the bus stand. And oh, yes, the bus stand. You would think that people forgot to build toilets in their houses- nature calls all of them to the bus stand, and they leave their offerings to mother earth in a puddle that could've made Noah anxious.
Oh, and where were we? Yes, I'm on the bus, when a couple of women board carrying four huge bags filled with vegetables and the like. They walk straight at me and hand me one bag and say something in rapid tamil. I nodded and smiled and held on to the bag. A few moments later:

Woman 1: "mani enna thambi?"(what's the time, little brother?)
me: "Six Forty Five."
Woman one: "enna six fofofof vaaa? enna thambi? ha ha haaa..."
Woman 2: "ha ha ha...."
Man in the seat behind me: "ha ha ha..."
Man in the seat in front of me: "ha ha ha..."
Conductor: "ha ha ha..."

In short, practically the whole bus went mad with laughter when I told the woman the time.
Well, I am not trying, now, to give an explanation for this, this phenomenon. I just thought it would be good that all of you know now that when asked the time on a bus in Trichy, just smile and nod. And if you have an explanation, email it to me at kc.hcyke@gmail.com.
Hell, where am I?

An early sunrise, and one big download later...

Time: 6:30 am.
Location: I-lab.


Feeling terribly bored. Waiting for a download to finish. Surprisingly, it's my first non-non-educational download, and I have to wake up at this unearthly hour for it. It is the latest edition of altera's nios II prcessor development tool. But, chuck, what do you know?

And as I sit alone here in the peace, solitude and stuffiness, I think about a lot of things.

Like finally going home today. Yup. That's right. twenty two friggin days I spent here, in this hole of a place, killing time watching friends and movies( some info withheld here, hey! It's my private life), writing abstract poetry (The extravagant adventures of a hopeless middle aged romantic- three episodes, Check out the previous posts), taking stupid tests(the previous post), and lying in bed and planning the future(not April first yet, but thought I'd try!).
And now I'm going home. Home to Delhi. Home to non-insect-infested food. Home to a soft mattress and fluffy pillows. Home to... well, all the good things in life.
But as I plan out the next twenty odd days- dividing my time equally between KFC, Dominoes and McDonalds, and, yes, my favourite kebab and tandoori place, Al-qusar or something it's called- I am overcome by a very strange feeling. In case you were wondering how the Oracle felt when Smith poked two fingers into her arm(and arm does not, I repeat does not mean anything else in Trichy slang) call me now. I feel very infinitesimally sorry to leave this place. There, I said it. Yes, yes, I know. Call me a wuss or something. I don't care. I'll miss here, so what?
I'll miss the stench in my room, the meticulously created mess on my table. I'll miss sitting up through the night playing WoW( after they banned the I-lab after hours, I activated GPRS...Hah), downloading shit at the I-lab for free, after the long wait for the rapidshare link to get activated, making fun of matkas, eating at bamboos and azeez every night, watching scores of movies just for the sake of it, getting fried in the tronics lab, hey, I take that back. I'll miss having a maa from the bru at two in the morning and waking up at two in the afternoon.
But most of all, I'll miss my friends. Yup. Go on. I am a wuss. But the fact is, I'll miss being with all these people, their Chandler-inspired punchlines, their equally stinky and messy rooms, their company in CS and WoW and their idiosyncrasies that make them who they are.

Well, i've told you all about my thoughts and feelings, and now my download is done. Hey thanks for keeping me company at this ungodly hour. Claim your reward on 6th January at 12:30 am, I'll be at Bru.

And fyi, I wasn't bluffing about the educational nature of this download, after all, okcupid says I'm a nerd...

You know you've been Trichy-fied when...

1. You give a flower sporting, saree-clad specimen another look.

2. You concentrate hard on the conversation two fat guys in lungis are having in the seat behind you.

3. Your eyes search for a sambar-rasam-sadam combination on any menu card.

4. You experience the urge to communicate in a strange new language.(Research has shown that this is a unique combination of Tamil, English, Hindi, Malayalam and also Japanese. Research has also shown that NITT grads have inadvertently mastered the language).

5. You think 'da' means 'full-stop' daaa

6.You eat a 'pizza' at icy.

7. You listen to 'Nethu Rathiri' blaring out of 'Bose' Speakers in the local bus. And enjoy.

8. You travel to chennai more often than you take a bath.

9. Body parts other than your mouth and your eyes start watering after a sumtuous pongal-vada breakfast.

10.Your resume reads bovinology as an area of special interest.

11. you can name 25 types of chutneys. And tell with proper reasons which tastes best with dosas.

12. You think that the world is divided into 'annas' and 'akkas' with the ocassional 'thambi' in between.

13.You pulverize anyone who refers to 'ettukal poochi manidhan as spiderman.

14 All your friends are called GMC, BBC, VH1, VH2, DVD and WTC.

15. You think that Baskin Robbins is a living person.

-Perv and Ulti Khopdi.

The Myth of the Elements.

(The script for our department's prize winning show, 'Elements', at an inter department cultural fest in our college. Excuse us if some lines remind you of Galadriel.)

Prelude

The world has changed, I feel it in the water,I feel it in the earth, I smell it in the air.

Much that once was is lost for few live now who remember it. But the myth has lived through the ages, the myth of the elements.

God created the 4 elements-fire, water, wind, earth, and bestowed upon them the power to control the world, but only if they worked together, in harmony. Even man, with all his technological advancements, depends on the elements for his sustenance. For God knew, the creature man would try with his insatiable thirst, and talent for technology to take over these elements.

Everything God created, yin/yang, black/white, life/death, all were meant to have perfect crystal symmetry, perfect balance, sweet harmony.

That was the way it was, with the elements...

_________________

Harmony

Water

Man has, and always will, revere the purity and sanctity of sacred water, that has ebbed and flown along with civilization, forever keeping man afloat.

Wind

Fickle wind, now sweet and mellow, then gusty and powerful, and back again, but forever will remain a symbol of strength and power.

Earth

The circle of life of man begins from and ends with mother earth. We are born from it, and we shall die into it. Mother earth, ever a symbol of support and sustenance, caters to the needs of humankind.

Fire

Dancing flames, ever a symbol of warmth and protection, yet hiding unspeakable power, was, still is, and would be worshipped for generations.

_________________

Anomaly

It is but a dream that this harmony would exist forever. But as fate would have it, an anomaly presents itself to disturb this magical symmetry, in the form of a steadfast, but stubbornly misdirected soul. He takes it upon himself to bring the 4 elements under his control. He knew, it at all there was a way, the only way to do that was through vigorous penance.

_________________

Thou shalt bow to me

Slowly but surely, fire and water surrendered their powers to his irresistible will, for such was the power of his penance.

He was powerful by now, with the elements fire and water by his side.

But he was still thirsty, and it was a only a matter of time before earth and wind succumbed.

_________________

Ode to Destruction

Volcano

Blazing fire, igniting the skies,
The dormant beast awakened,
Burning, uprooting, leaving all,
In a wreath of fire emblazoned.

Earthquake

The earth beneath cleaved in half,
A wave of fear, a tremor,
Destruction, despair, no soul is spared,
From the wrath of this seismic terror.

Tsunami

From the depths of Poseidon's watery stronghold,
A spear of death was hurled,
Hissing, spitting, tidal fangs,
Sorrow on millions unfurled.

Tornado

Murderous monster, spitefully swirling,
A whirlwind of venomous vice,
Gripping, twisting, turning at will,
No stopping this devilish device.

Walk to their death?

Realizing their helplessness, the elements desperately try one by one to win back their lost freedom. But even the powerful elements had to bow down to his superior will. Try as they might the elements could do nothing to penetrate his black aura.

Fire..

Water..

Wind..

Earth.. they all fall..

The revolution (final fight)

And then there was a light in the sky, a sign from the heavens for the elements to unite and bring down the tyrant in one final fight for their forsaken freedoms.

The sound of a thunderbolt reverberated through the universe, the flash of lightning blinded all, and it was done. The mighty tormentor had fallen, drained of all his powers, he lay on the ground, from ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

Another little something...

Insomniac.

Heavy eyes, drooping shoulders, shabbily clad, I pass the morning hours like a ghost. Counting each hour as it passes by, I wait impatiently for the night, every minute hoping that tonight would be ‘the’ night that I finally realise that wondrous moment when I finally fall into the blissful state of complete relaxation and ignorance, of heavenly joy, of sleep.

I am an insomniac. Every night for as many as I can remember, I have been teetering on the edge of euphoric semi-consciousness only to be prematurely awakened from the dream by a cold sweat. Every night I squirm around in my bed trying to shake off the skeletons in my head, disturbing my peace. But before all this, this evil kaleidoscope of misery, there was a time, like the little ray of hope in Pandora’s Box, when I could rest, sleep when I was tired, and wake up when I was refreshed. Those days are long gone, but the light in them percolates through the dark cobwebs of my consciousness, showering a little joy and hope into an otherwise futile existence.

We all take sleep for granted. The clichéd “nights before the exams”, the inevitable nights wasted away trying to copy down the multitudes of pages of an assignment that helps “develop interest” in the subject, have all made humungous contributions towards making me and a lot of other people living dead that we are now. And the future does not hold a lot of promise for our lot.

There is absolutely no escaping it. Let’s face it, assignments have to be submitted, tests have to be written. We cannot revolt against the system, which many believe to be very sound. All we can do is wait for the messiah to come and sing an irresistible lullaby to us and put us to a long awaited and extremely well deserved repose.

Till then I remain a figment of Enrique Iglesias’s imagination. I remain an insomniac.

Losing my Festiginity

(The cumulative effort of the lowly second years of Writers' Circle of NIT, Trichy. This may have been our big break!)

I wake up. I brush. I eat. I sleep. Then i go home during Festember. I was just some arbit frustoo who went to Bamboos once a month and had five square parathas and a PBM. But everything changed this time. The darn train reservation wasn't confirment and i was stuck here, just me and the other frustoos without rail reservations. Ofcourse, we found a better way to describe our position. We thought we're really smarter ones since staying here was rebelling against the fickle minded flock that flew north every winter, autmn rather. So we called ourselves the pirates. We went to Chatram to get eye patches but they'd run out of them, so we grew our hair long enough to cover our eyes. We rented an air conditioned old vessel where we took an oath of secrecy through the ip messenger and called ourselves the Writers Circle/ Media Team. And so I lost my Festiginity.

So here it was, Festember '07. Now you'd imagine what mood has been associated with that statement. Do i sound excited? Or nonchalant? Well i haven't the faintest idea, partly because i read last year's newsletter brought out by the WC. That's what this society (read: evil brotherhood) does to you, it takes all the fun out of life. Reading artciles like wake me after Festember ends' don't exactly gear you up for the Fest you're supposed to remember. Frankly speaking, this Festember wasn't very different from the image portrayed by those who had the courage to brave it to the last time around. Definitely, a few events like Power Cut and ChoreoNite were worth watching, but a large portion of the crowd was rather interested in the food stalls. So was I. When i was not devouring the pizzas, i was locked up in Cad lad preparing reports and articles for pirate radio.

I gained a lot, mind you. Three days of fun, frolic, festivity and Iced Eskimos. And it was fulfilling. Am i getting obsessed with the F? But in its varied meanings and diverse views, the F met the K, not one mind you, but two. And that really enthralled the enraptured audience. Yup, the memories of Festember will remain ingrained in my mind forever, or atleast as long as the flavors of the Triple Bar Sundae and the Cool Blue of CCD do. As i look back down the road of drifting memories, conflicting emotions and suppressed nausea, the vivid images of my screaming, red and grey coloured hair, my white painted face, the voices of the radio- jockey- from -Bangaluru- who- assures- that- radio- is no- match- for- TV (which ofcourse is no match to print), the magic of the creative fire lit by the arts exhibition, the lits events which got our rusting grey cells working, our never- quenching thirst for more and more of DT numbers, stays on. Phew! And thus i move on experiencing over and over again the epitome of joy, entwined in a swirl of creativity... and waiting for the next fest to arrive...


By- The Triumphant Perv with an Ulti Khopdi who has a Beautiful Mind that spurts Lava.