Help!

Please, please, someone give me an internet connection!
My long hiatus should not be mistaken for laziness. In fact, I churned up enough material in my head to fill pages, but alas, Mahanagar Telephone Nigam Limited has reduced the creativity in the universe, and doesn't even bother to make an excuse.
My family shifted to a new bigger home (incidentally, next to the taj palace hotel). Everything's fine- bigger rooms, cooler, and of course, ipl keeps me occupied, as does the heap of dvds that i burnt back at college. But my life, and everyone else's, is incomplete without a net connection.
So we wrote to MTNL to shift the line to our new address. They called up one fine morning and told us that it's up and running. All happy and smiling, I switched on the comp, waited for the green light to blink and then stabilise, but nothing- no green light. Switch off-switch on... nothing.
So I registered a complaint at their automated complaint centre. A guy came, switched on the comp, refreshed the desktop a few times, deleted all the temp files and said that the problem's in the phone line.
So I registered another complaint-this time about the phone line. Another guy came the next day, dialled a few numbers on the phone and told me he'll be right back. I never saw him again.
I registered another complaint two days later- amazingly the whole process was repeated.
How in the name of hell does MTNL have customers?
We are switching to airtel. They have a nice little Rs 599 scheme- unlimited download, and although the max speed's only 256 kbps, that's still a lot of downloads.
My suggestion, request rather, to anyone who still has an MTNL connection is- please, don't let this happen to you!
My next post will be from an airtel connection. I hope they pay me something for all this publicity!

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...

Leave it all Behind

I am asleep today,
But dawn is on its way.
Peace, I hope to find,
And leave it all behind.

The Sun burns my swollen eyes.
My tired mind he spies.
He sees nought but reposing calm
Curled up in puerile charm.

The Wind stirs my burning skin
To kill the trance that I am in.
But I keep my eyes shut tight,
And leave it all behind.

I leave it all behind.
Peace, I hope to find.
She sings me a dirge tonight.
I leave it all behind.

Phanerothyme

I dreamed last night that the world was lost,
Fires burning, and me and Faust
Left this earth to find a land
As pure and fresh as Gaea's hand.

We learned to fly and flew up high,
Out of the reach of beholding eyes.
We flew faster than any spaceship sailed,
Yet slower than a crawling snail.

We journeyed on across the expanse,
And before our eyes the stars would dance.
We stopped for a while and I glanced down.
I saw a crazy diamond shining on.

Its light was too bright for my mortal vision,
So Faust sailed without me into the horizon.
My wings, like Icarus, were brittle, were weak,
And I fell into depths that none dare to seek.

And in the darkness I lay like a ghost,
Craving and pining for what I desired the most.
To make this trivial world sublime,
Just half a gram of Phanerothyme.



(This is dedicated to all my high-getting friends. I hope my description was not too naive. And FYI the las two lines are Aldous Huxley's.)

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?

Ooh la la la la ley oh!

Ah... those legs!
Spick and span red uniforms that end six inches above the knees, a fake smile that stretches from ear to ear, an even faker accent, coloured hair, weird hairdos, an overdose of mascara and so on and so on... but what catches the eye are the long, bare, real life advertisement for hair removers. Man... those legs!
Yes, I confess. I was ecstatic when I knew I was flying Kingfisher. But it was really refreshing to see that the feeling was reciprocated. "Good morning sir, thank you for flying Kingfisher!." I didn't reply. How could the legs talk?
Yes, I confess. I swelled up with schoolboy pride, almost blushed, when another pair of legs asked me, "Will it be fresh lime or orange for you, sir?." I don't remember what I drank, but I remember those strawberry legs...
Yes, I confess. I waited intently for the for the legs to wave their hands around to show me how to save myself if I was drowning. But the bloody killjoys showed it on the little tv screen in front of each seat. There of course, the focus was elsewhere, so I had to strain my neck to look a live pair serving juice to someone.
Yes, I confess. I asked for extra coffee to see them again. Then I asked for extra mint. Then I asked for tissues. Then I ran out of things to ask for, so I just smiled. I think they turned a little red for me...
And then, it was time to bid farewell. "Thank you sir, and wish you a pleasant stay in Chennai!." I was too depressed to reply. I was leaving them. The piece-de-resistance of Kingfisher Airlines, lost to me forever... for this sem, at least.
Yes, I confess. I will save money this sem for a reunion. My dearest pairs of Beauty herself, I hark to thy bidding. We will meet again...