Wednesday, September 5, 2007

My Friend

A Flashback
Only one hour was left. One hour between me and freedom. And the English paper was a piece of cake. The half-yearlies of class three was finally getting over. But, I was not happy. Something was bugging me. The kid sitting next to me( I think his name was Gnana Ranjan) had copied each and every word I had written in my answer paper. I could have easily covered up my paper if I wanted to, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing, that he could have done about it. And I wanted to as well. But then, I just couldn't. Covering up your paper and not showing it to others would earn you a reputation of being a stingy bastard. Not that I was not one. But, being one, I just didn't want to be known as one. Thats a weakness in all the guys with weaknesses. If you call an intelligent chap a fool, he wouldn't mind it. But, try calling a fool one. If you tell a beautiful girl that she is worse looking than a modern art masterpiece, she would think that you are just bitter. But, just call an ugly one, "plain" and feel bad yourself for the whole day. Similarly, I did not want to be called a selfish, stingy bastard(IITians can read RGier). But, being the RGier that I am, I decided to do something about Mr. Xerox Copier.
Suddenly, I got a brilliant idea. The only questions left were the two essays- My Aim in Life and My Best Friend. I remembered both of them word by word( Thanks, to my mom). My aim in life was being a doctor and Ravi was my best friend( Only Ravi I know personally is a barber). Being a smart kid that I was, I started writing my own lines( instead of the ones I mugged up). I described how I would get a chance to kill people by being a doctor and how Ravi flunked every exam he wrote.(For ignorant fools, Ravis, Mohans and Shyams of My best friend essays are always supposed to come first in class) After writing a lot of bullshit I blew air out of my mouth creating a "whoosh" sound. That is the universal sign language of finishing a difficult task.
Mr.Modi Xerox fell right into the trap. He thought I finished the paper. So, without thinking much( his trademark style), he gave away his paper and went out of the class.
Immediately, I sprung into action. There was not much time to lose. I started correcting the the essays. But, my luck was "really rotten"(Any RGier's team in laffalympics- Ignorant fools can start watching Cartoon Network). I could only finish one essay in time. Ravi was still flunking when the invigilator pulled away the paper from me.
Now, a serious piece of advice- When you copy something, make sure you copy from the right guy. If you copy wrong answers, not only do you get wrong, but, you get caught as well. My teacher was not as dumb witted as I hoped she would be( Thats a rare breed among primary school teachers). Not only was I blasted by the teacher for assisting in copying,( That sadist bitch actually read out my essay in the class) I got branded as a stingy bastard by friends who came to know about my first essay. Mr. Photocopier was as cool as ice throughout the day. ( Being dumb has its advantages)
After so many years, I am in my third year at college now. Lately, a very good friend of mine has been pestering me for an orkut testimonial. But, as a tribute to SDKjunior of class three, I will write an essay with "My Best Friend" guidelines(which can be summarized in one line)

"My Best Friend-"Some-John-Smith-level-extremely-common-name" is GOD"

"He is a god."
"No you idiot, he must be a supermodel."
I think, he is...."Shrivastav(pause).Apurv Shrivastav", a mellifluous voice interrupted the discussion among a group of awe-struck sophomores. That was the day Indian Institute of Technology Madras was blessed with the arrival of Apurv.
What can I say about him?( This is the line that is common to 77% of the testimonials in orkut.Other 23% are some copy-pasted smiley-level bullshit,if you know what I mean) If you think Brad Pitt is handsome, Einstein was intelligent, Ronaldinho can dribble, Brian Adams sings well, Casanova was a ladies man, Al Pacino can act, Churchill knew oration, Shakesphere could
write, Micheal Jackson can dance and lots of other people can do lots of other things they are supposedly good at, then think again. If you still think so, then pay a visit to room number 144, IIT Maddus, and think again. Now, after this experience, if you continue to think so, then I have only one advice to you. Come out of the room, move right, walk straight for 5 metres, turn right, go to the water dispenser kept nearby, fill the steel glass kept over the dispenser with cold water and then try to drown yourself in the glass.
A.H.Shrivastava- Apurv Handsome Shrivastava: The interrupted conversation described above must have given you a clue about the dazzling look this gentleman posesses. In fact, he was the first choice for the LUX ad. But then, our man put his foot down because the ad involved too much exposure.(Its not as if he is against exposing or something, but, he will do it only if script demands it.)

A.F.Shrivastava- Apurv Footer SHrivatsava: There was this next Ronaldinho contest in which one has to send a video of him playing football(CIA agents looking to collect info on this amazing genius can read SOCCER). The most skill full one gets to train at Nou Camp(Thats Barcelona- for football knowledge impaired). We secretly made a video of Apurv Patriot Shrivastava( who wouldn't let us give his video as he wanted to stay and serve and die in India only) and sent it.
Frank Riijkard, changed his mind, after having decided to sign him as his striker,(He had almost agreed to sell Etoo and Henry to Madrid for free-they were not required anymore, you see) only when he realised that his wife(who also saw the video) was shouting "Ohhh Apurvvvv... Ohhh come on" while bedding him. That is the effect Apurv Handsome Shrivastava has on middle-aged women.
That made him change his mind and training offer went to Chingura Mankamunga of Thailand( And I thought Europeans were professional)

A.M.Shrivastava- Apurv Musical Shrivastava:
Music can make you laugh.
Music can make you cry.
Music can bring down rain.
Music can drain the ocean dry( Wow I wrote a poem!! Must be the company of Apurv Wordsworth Shrivastava)
I used to think that these sort of lines spoken out with a regal tone by sixty year olds (wearing clothes so ludicrously lashy that even any three year old in his right mind won't wear them) were bullshit, until I heard our man singing. He was also drumming, playing guitars and keyboard at the same time.Trust me, he can even make you go to loo with the power of music. All he has to do is to go to loo himself and start singing, All loos next to the one he is in get filled up immediately. No wonder they made him LM coord.

A.G.Shrivastava-Apurv Genious Shrivastava:
Apurv is currently busy in many top secret projects which pertain to national defense. In fact, divulging any information about them may result in Apurv Patriot Shrivastava being forced to kill me. But, let me make at least one earth-shattering revelation. All the projects( the good ones) that have been completed, be it student's or a professor's in IITM in last two years are done by our man. In fact, he made a bulb all by himself as soon as he was born. He made a line follower and a micromouse when he was two and three months old respectively. It was obvious from that day itself that he would one day be a Robotics coord(which he is)

A.C.Shrivastava-Apurv Casanova Shrivastava:
Apurv and ladies are two words which go together. They are just like "Larsen and Toubro" or "Adolf and Hitler". The moment you think of one, the other one just comes spontaneously to your mind. In fact, the only ladies who don't flock around Apurv are the ones who are extremely low on self confidence, suffer from severe inferiority complex and just can't handle the competition.
If any of you want to watch hot girls go crazy, just be near Apurv. Ladies do everything they can, just to get a passing glance from him. In fact, sights like ladies sorrounding him and belly dancing while he is going to class in the morning is not at all uncommon in IITM. Just, be careful of the guys around him as there is a high probability that they make passes at you after being exasperated at Apurv's lack of attention. He is also a major reason behind a marked increase of homosexuals in the IIT campus.
I consider myself very lucky to get a room next to this chap. It wouldn't have been possible, had my dad not discovered a pot full of gold.(most of which is spent bribing the officials so as to get the room next door to him)In fact, all the residents of the Narmada Hostel have spent a lot of dough just to be his hostelmates. Now, they are thinking of having reservations for rooms in the hostel as well.
Anyways, this is Apurv Shrivastava or Orchestra, my room neighbour and "MY BEST FRIEND"

Friday, August 31, 2007

A Quest In Vain

Following account is a real life description of a most depressing afternoon of my life. It affected my life so much that just in order to forget this incident, I stopped eating two specific food items, abandoned my favorite mess forever and stopped subscribing to certain cellular phone service provider. So, if you are a heart patient (I sincerely hope not) or a pregnant woman (I most sincerely hope not), you still can most certainly enjoy my plight. Before you come to terms with YOUR SHARE OF PAIN.
A QUEST IN VAIN (These two lines are there just because they rhyme)

A doctor eavesdropping my heartbeat could have died of heart-attack. I could feel my legs shaking and my knees could give way to my bodyweight anytime. But, I had to do this. I just had to.
Earlier the day, I,the new age Don Quixote of Da Macha ( These two words along with illla-saaar constitute my Tam vocabulary) set out on a mission. The same mission every IITian (well, almost every) has on the day before the dance workshop*. After a short walk which was used to remember the tricks and catch lines from "101 ways to start a conversation" I reached the CLT entrance. An inner voice told me to stop this endeveour immediately and return to senses. But all I could hear was a thousand times magnified female voice saying-"yesss youuu indabluh teeshirt. khaman aap"
Now time for a serious peice of advise. If you are standing in front of an Airtel Stall dressed in a blue t-shirt and you hear "yesss youuu indabluh teeshirt. khaman aap", then get the hell out. Don't think.Just run. unless of course you enjoy to try and hang on to a heart shaped balloon placed between your thighs and supported by crotch while you are hanging upside down with someone smacking your face with more such horrendous balloons. That too in the area boasting of "the highest Aphrodite density you ever get to enter" in 52 weeks.
After dropping the balloon, secondarily, because of the balloons that caressed my nose and primarily because of the glaring eyes of 30 odd people( and thus losing the opportunity of my lifetime to win the coveted hanky with airtel written on it), I hoped to salvage some pride by trying to get the "Oh it was a bit childish, but, I enjoyed every second of it" look on my face.That is when I saw HER. SHE was divine. SHE was ah-so-damn-beautiful. SHE was out of this worldly and I was in love.
A doctor eavesdropping my heartbeat could have died of heart-attack. I could feel my legs shaking and my knees could give way to my bodyweight anytime. But, I had to do this. I just had to. My faltering legs were headed towards HER, despite that strange kind of shaky feeling that was starting to grip more and more parts of my body.I felt pain, but this time familiar. The butter chicken at mess, burger at stall and the upside down exercise for five minutes seemed to have caused strange movements in my bowel. SHIT.Yes, shit. That is the word I muttered when I crossed her for the first and last time while running towards the hostel.

Necessity is the mother of all inventions.
The country needed good engineers. So, they started IITs. Students in IITM needed to have a week of enjoyment and female company. So, they started Saarang. But, your average shy studious IITian couldn’t muster up courage to talk to unknown girls without any specific reason. So, they had to find a reason. Thus, came the novelty. THE DANCE WORKSHOP.
Since, only western dance was taught and only couples were allowed, the regular Joe got a chance to be a Romeo. And this (a proper reason to talk to girls) along with hours of group discussions, three continuous days of bath, a bottle each of perfume and hair oil and a shave gave the IITian confidence to talk and actually invite girls to the workshop. The series of invitations, acceptance, rejection and “bulbing” during invitation that occur every year are part of IIT folklore. Due to high rate of rejection and bulbing during invitation, and ,of course, limited registration very few people manage to enter the hallowed portals of the workshop and information on what happens inside is a bit vague. Though there have been some success stories due to the dance workshop, majority of junta still think longingly for a chance to dance.

Spirit of the stairway

Espirit de l'escalier: It means that moment when you find the answer, but it's too late. Say you're at a party and somebody insults you. You have to say something. So under pressure, with everybody watching, you say something lame. But the moment you leave the party.... As you start down the stairway, then-magic. You come up with the perfect thing you should have said. The perfect crippling put-down.

That's the spirit of the stairway.

This spirit has been victimizing your's faithfully since time immemorial. This blog is to express all those "perfect things" which were left unsaid.