CAIN'S BLAWG

Just another evening ....

2011-09-02T06:49:00.000-07:00

A few peanuts in hand, Rajala stands amid a flock of pigeons that are ruffling their feathers and squawking impatiently. She throws another handful of nuts into the air, sending the birds into a flurry as they try to get a peck .A smile lights up her exhausted face as a pigeon alights on her shoulder.

Behind her the brick archway of the museum gate looms silent, awaiting the daily crowd.

It is 4:00 pm and the evening is still in its infancy.

The sky looks freshly painted, and there is not a cloud in sight.

The roadside hawkers have started arranging their wares on the ground, in preparation of a long evening. A few foreigners, who are passing by, stop to inspect the goods. There is a lot of gesturing, and it is clear that neither party can understand the other.

A small crowd is starting to form around the collection of teashops, situated along the narrow lane adjacent to the museum entrance. The teashops, which have been around since god-knows-when, are a frequent hangout spot for the young and the old alike. In the evenings, you can hear their chatter over the sound of the rumbling traffic.

The traffic, increases steadily as people start heading home from their offices. One can spot several up market cars as they walk along the stretch of road from Museum to Vellayambalam. Every ten minutes or so, a BMW or Mercedes glides past, in all its regal grandeur.

A sudden gust of wind sends leaves showering down to the pavement. Caught in a beam of sunlight filtering through the branches, they are a pretty sight.

Rambootan salesman, Johnson, is occupying his regular spot outside the Kanakakunnu gate. He doesn’t seem to be having a profitable day as his cart is still three fourths full. He is cheerful, nonetheless.

The bus-stop just outside Kanakakunnu is vacant but for a middle aged woman. She looks anxious. Perhaps she is waiting for someone.

A little further along the street, a couple haggles with an auto driver over a fare. In the distance an unfamiliar Tamil song blares out of a loudspeaker.

Few people notice the model of an aircraft that has been on the roadside, for as long as anyone can remember. The old Navy sea-hawk model has stood the ravages of time. As always, it remains unnoticed, a shadow in the background, as the world flashes past before it.

The traffic signal, before Keltron, turns red, and vehicles come to a screeching halt. People honk impatiently. A hapless old man gets caught in the middle as the lights suddenly turn green. They curse and swear at him.

Its 5:30 now and the sky sports a bluish-orange hue.
What are we, but mortals bound by time.

For a stretch of road and a wonderful evening spent.

Thank you.

NOW WHAT?!!

2010-10-03T05:46:00.000-07:00

Back when I was still a cherubic little boy with little knowledge of the world and its ways, life was mostly simple. Worst, you had to deal with multiple, yes or no questions and a lot of stupid faces. If that wasn’t enough, you could always count on someone else to take care of whatever was bothering you, just by bawling at the top of your voice. However, things started to change over time, and I was expected to tie my own shoelaces, and brush my own teeth. With passing days, life became more and more bothersome, as responsibilities were heaped onto my back without any sign of benevolence.

13 yrs later I walked out of school, thoroughly unsure of what I was going to do, as people around me drew elaborate plans about their future. I was the only one without a clue. I wasn’t too keen on writing the medical entrance. Although I do not cringe at the sight of blood, pulling someone’s entrails out, somehow did not appeal to me. Then there was law. Well, you know what they say about lawyers---they have no conscience. I intended to preserve mine. Engineering, seemed to be very much in vogue, and there were more institutes offering the course, than there were applicants. 4 years?? …piece of cake!!! Too bad, I got the wrong flavor!!!I appeared for every single entrance exam one could possibly register for, only to get creamed by each and every one of them. With my rank, I couldn’t afford to be too picky. Off the list, SCT seemed to be the least disreputable, and so I applied. Well….appearances can be deceiving. It didn’t take me long to discover that I had landed myself, in one of the most godforsaken places on the planet.

4 years have gone by; I’m not any closer to being an electronics engineer than I was when I began the course. Apart from a few genuinely sweet people, most of the teachers in our college, are disgruntled with life in general, and are just looking for a chance to screw you over. And with a university that’s even more messed up, you’ve got a surefire recipe for disaster! All these years, I have wondered what prompted me to make this distinctly wrong choice. Maybe it was the illusion that all engineering graduates end up in well paying jobs, with a lot of benefits, and a good contingency plan. Maybe, that was what urged me to go against my better judgement. I refused to listen to that little voice that has always whispered encouragingly into my ear guiding me the right way. With just the right amount of attendance and only a handful of back papers I’ve somehow managed to stumble along. My inability to keep pace with my mates, during project discussions and other academic activities, subjected me to condescension from my peers. We barely have 6 months left in college and almost everyone is looking to augment their bachelor’s degree with something more, and I’m still stuck with 3 uncleared papers.

Despite the occasional story about a physician who left to become an author or an attorney turned singer, the overwhelming majority of unhappy people choose to stay miserably stuck largely out of pride. The idea of having wasted all these years, in pursuit of that coveted degree isn’t as scary as disapproval from people we love and care about. Rather than fear of wasting the degree this is what prevents us from making the jump.

Writing as a career has yet to find the mass acceptance in India. It is considered as an offbeat career that is supposed to be done in your free time or as a hobby. I’ve always been very passionate about writing. Somewhere in the corner of my brain I’ve often toyed with the idea of writing professionally, but not having enough confidence in my abilities, it never materialized. Once I’m done with college, I seriously intend to take up writing as a full time profession. This time however, I’ll have a B-tech degree to bolster my resume. After all a B-tech degree has to amount to something; not everybody has one!Even though,I may not do anything related to my field of specialization ,a few years down the line,I’ll still be an electronics engineer….a shitty one at that, but an electronics engineer nonetheless!

So far in life I’ve had this abiding belief that everything happens for a reason. The key is to find the lessons. Maybe this was how it was meant to be. I have a feeling everything is just going to snap into place. Well, if they don’t, I suppose, I could always return to SCT as a janitor!

My First Movie Review! ...Inception the neverending psychological thriller :D

2010-07-19T05:56:00.000-07:00

There are movies you like and then there are movies you like. So how does one judge a movie? What are the defining characteristics of a good movie, whatever the genre? Of course it should be emotionally engaging; we should feel for the characters and have an empathetic attachment to what s going on on the screen but it should be cerebrally stimulating as well. It is very rarely that a flick is so effective in the second department that it messes with your brain and alters your entire mode of thinking. True to its imdb review “Christopher Nolan's mind-bending, intelligent, exciting and disturbing sci-fi extravaganza, blends the best of traditional and modern filmmaking.”

I watched the movie on the day of its release, and again today with a few other friends, and I found it extremely intriguing. I found myself mulling over the different plot points of the movie and arguing with my friend DJ over our theories about the ending, and different details of the story in general .We were so obsessed with the whole notion conveyed by the movie and all its complexities,and constructed elaborate theories for some of those bothering questions we’ve been having since 16 July. However I don’t expect even a third viewing will be sufficient to nail things down. Besides,its so baffling and ambiguous that different people may have conflicting and contradicting opinions, just like we interpret our dreams.

Leonardo de Caprio plays Dom Cobb an extractor specialized navigating people’s minds, and stealing information from deep within their subconscious. He is assisted by his point man Arthur, who does background research on his subjects .They offer freelance espionage (well it is implied) to any client wealthy enough to pay for it, for which, he is wanted by most of the law enforcement agencies on the planet and he’s constantly on the run. When his most recent job turns out to be a failure, he’s offered a chance at redemption, if he s able to perform the perhaps impossible act of "inception”. He assembles a team and starts working on an exceptionally complex, multilayered dreamscape where they plan to place their subject and plant an initial seed of a subconscious thought that will eventually grow to a major, conscious decision that he would not otherwise make. What follows is a wild head trip, through this visually spectacular, labyrinthian world embellished with such ravishing detail all painfully constructed by Nolan. When things go wrong,the team has to deal with several issues, not the least of which is Cobb’s own disturbed subconscious.I cannot risk revealing more of the plot without spoiling it for those who haven’t watched the movie yet.

Though conceptually similar to an earlier movie “Shutter Island” which also starred De Caprio, however “Inception” is much more complex, exploring the idea of “dream within a dream”. The plot is so intensely composite but the director expertly gets the characters to stand around explaining the complexities of the plot at regular intervals,so that each and any unanswered question the audience may think of is answered. For such a complex plot the movie is coherent, and paced to perfection that we are always there right in the middle of everything. It is also very visually outstanding, without resorting to 3d or too much CGI. At one point when an entire cityscape folded in on itself the audience was left dumbfounded with awe. The movie also boasts of a stellar cast, but they do little to progress the plot, and there are moments when they are just standing around occupying screen space. The camera work is impeccable as the movie moves on to its latter half and we delve much deeper into the characters’ subconscious, with action occurring at multiple levels simultaneously. The score isn’t Zimmer’s best work, yet it gives us a sense of anticipation.

Bottom line? With “Inception” Nolan establishes himself as the foremost mainstream moviemaker of Hollywood. Despite it being an impossibly audacious concept, Nolan manages to pull it off with ease. Yet there is one thing he fails to provide us, and that is closure. Like most other Nolan movies the audience is kept guessing. As the ending credits roll no one knows for sure whether he’s still dreaming or not. Give us closure, Christopher Nolan , our subconscious yearns for it !!

Rating: 9.5/10..

Of ancient motorcycles and psycho doctors!

2009-03-01T01:58:00.000-08:00

I’ve always been into doing things the “extreme” way and “living on the edge” and all that shit. Even as a little kid, while others my age were engrossed in wrestling and nascar and all that girly crap I used to watch roller jam…for the uninitiated roller jam is this totally awesome sport where beefy hunks and busty chicks, on roller blades, race against each other in a circular rink, quite frequently ramming into one another in an attempt to shove them off the playing area (Apparently you get points for doing so). Whatever it may be, it used to get pretty darn violent and I remember I enjoyed watching it. As a matter of fact I used to enjoy being a part of any thing that had the potential to be obscenely violent. My obsession with television violence bordering on insanity, my parents deemed it inordinately stupid to let me too close to anything that if used creatively could cause a lot of pain.

Now, let me tell you some thing about my uncle’s motorcycle. It is ANCIENT .The artifact has been passed on for so many generations that the original owner had long since been forgotten. The machine had been manufactured in some primeval era when the human skull was large enough to accommodate only so many brain cells that the thought of “braking” or “stopping” never occurred. Good for them, their cranial capacities were inadequate. They never thought of taking these contraptions out for a test-drive either. Lets just say, the human race would have become extinct that much earlier. Well so about the bike…my uncle was trying to get rid of it, and I was pretty certain that he knew that I knew that he wouldn’t be able to get shit for it if he tried selling it. I guess that’s why he let me have it for free. All I had to do in return was keep it in proper running condition. Well what did I have to lose? It sounded like a good bargain so I took it…. only to regret it later.

All was well for a couple of days, until I decided to take my recently inherited 17th century motorcycle out for a spin. As was wont to happen, despite all of my uncle’s warnings I forgot to get the brakes repaired. After a good 15 minutes and several wasted kicks later, I manage to get the infernal thing started. Deciding that brakes aren’t all that important for a motorcycle, I set out, throwing caution to the winds. As I entered the highway, I became ambitious. Wanting to see how fast she’d go, I opened her up. I managed to get the thing all the way up to 90,which was a great thing considering all those years of neglect the machine had been subjected to. The road was quite slippery owing to recent rains, but that did not matter. Feeling sublime and at peace, I closed my eyes. As most of you probably know, doing 90 on an ancient motorcycle with zero brakes, on wet road, with your eyes closed is suicidal. But all that TV violence had gone to my head rendered me completely brain dead and I was thoroughly enjoying it. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, something darted onto the middle of the road.

Some people say that the mongoose is an extremely elusive creature, very difficult to spot and capture. Hit him full on the face, going 90 kph with the headlights on and the horn blowing! OH YEAH! There’s your elusive creature! He must’ve been quite a mongoose, because upon impact I lost all semblance of control and instinctively tugged at the brakes. Nothing whatsoever happened. I could only watch helplessly as the bike careened off the road and raced toward a nearby thicket. I lost balance and fell off, as the bike caught in all the shrubbery, came to a standstill. But for a bruised toe, I was unhurt, thanks to all that protective blubber.

Well, a bruised toe wasn’t much so I didn’t worry about it a lot. Weeks passed, and my wound showed no sign of healing. It developed into a really painful blister that bled constantly. Unable to stand the pain any longer, I finally decided to pay the neighbourhood clinic a visit. Always, consult a specialist if you have the means. Because these so called “doctors”, who run these cheap dilapidated clinics, are completely psycho. I walked into the place only to see this guy in a very colorful ‘lungi’, smoking a beedi. He looked more like a rickshaw-puller than anything else. Naturally I assumed him to be the guy who cleaned the place to earn a little extra something.I asked him where the doctor was. With a totally homosexual simile, he gestured towards the seat next to him. With a sense of foreboding I sat down. I let him take a look at the wound. I swear to god, this guy was high on some local stuff because on seeing my swollen bloody toe he got all excited. “Ippo sheriakkitharam!”, he said and ran inside .He returned with an 8-inch long steel nail and started heating it over a spirit lamp. I was scared shit. No way, I was letting him stick that thing into me.. If he poked me with that, I’d sue him for attempted manslaughter! The thing was larger than a normal average human dick! (Well, not if you lived in Jamaica…). I opened my mouth to voice my thoughts but all I could manage was, “ Doctoreee…vedanikyoo???…”. “Oru urumbu kadikunna pole”, he responded with a particularly murderous grin. “Ready?”, he asked. I closed my eyes hoping I’d pass out before the worst of it.

It was pain beyond everything I had experienced before. I tried not to think of the words ‘searing’ and ‘flesh’ but try as I might, I could not blot out the bizarre image of an 8-inch nail sticking out of my toe. I craved for an analgesic, but my doctor had probably never heard of those. An agonizing 10 minutes later, I dragged my mutilated foot out of the clinic and hobbled home feeling very sorry for myself.

As I lay here in bed, with my leg even worse than before, I swear upon the graves of my ancestors, as soon as I get better I’m gonna shoot that son of a bitch…. well until then all i can do is, recount my story to everybody who’ll listen. : (

ONE LAST BREATH.

2008-10-25T10:46:00.000-07:00

** This post was inspired by gman's "MARTY"

Sunita winced as the freezing droplets pierced her body like tiny shards of glass. She shuddered as the bone numbing chill spread to her legs. Shivering, she stood motionless under the shower fully clothed, letting the water drench her completely. Although, the barometer had shown a steady drop for the past week or so, she felt nothing. The numbness felt good. It helped ease the pain. It helped take her mind of everything...off Timmy.

***

How long had it been, a year, or was it two? Things had been looking down for Sunita Mishra. Being an immigrant doctor she had to face enough hostility. And being a crack addict did not help either. Surely enough they were not too thrilled about the idea of having an addicted doctor in their staff. Enough damage was done to ensure that Sunita would not receive a respectable job anywhere in the near future. Determined to get her life back she joined Rehab. They put her through hell. After a grueling six months of pure torture, she was out.

Having gotten over her addiction, she presumed that it wouldn’t be all that difficult to get her job back. But that was not to be. She wandered around the city in search of employment. Owing to her medical background she was able to find a job as a caretaker in a children’s hospital in a not so posh locality. The inmates were mainly outcasts of society- orphans who had noone else to care for them. Many of them were physically handicapped, a few were too fragile for the corrupted sinful world outside. This was their world; a world of innocence free from the hassles that bother us. Work was not easy for Sunita, what with her having to double as a housekeeper and nurse, but she always had time for each and every one of the inmates, for she knew the pain of being born an orphan- she was one herself.

No one is born an orphan, but Sunita had no memory of her parents whatsoever. Forsaken as a child she was brought up by nuns in a small shelter they ran, the funding for which was provided by those who had enough to spare. However she was blessed with above average intelligence. Coupled with sheer hard work and determination she was able to become a renowned doctor. But her addiction had ruined everything. A bright prospective future lay in tatters. Sunita however did not resent her fate. She was happy to be there for those who, like her, did not have any one else.

***

She still remembered that day. It was a Tuesday-when she first noticed that bed at the corner of the room, by the window. It was after 9, yet the bed was occupied…now that was strange. The children hated to stay in bed a second longer than it was absolutely necessary. On it was a small figure staring out at the sky, completely oblivious to her presence. Quietly she crept towards him so as not to startle him. Although Sunita was only a few inches away from him it was evident that he had not noticed her presence. She placed a hand on his shoulder and said in a cheerful voice “Lovely day don’t you think?” Sunita’s voice brought him down to earth. He turned around to face her but said nothing. He was roughly about 11. Long dark hair fell messily over his forehead. There were dark circles around his eyes. He had a dreamy expression on his face. It was clear that he hadn’t left that bed in a long time. “Why don’t you go out and play with your friends?” asked Sunita. “I cant” came the reply. He explained to her that he had a very rare condition, which prevented him from doing so.

Osteoporosis is a disease that rarely affects children. However there are a few exceptions. Timmy was one such exception. Not only did he have the disease, he had it to a magnitude that was unprecedented. His bones were soft to the extent of being brittle- so brittle that his legs were unable to support the least weight. Timmy would never walk .He was confined to his bed for good.

As the days passed Sunita and Timmy became the best of friends. Timmy was different. He was not like the other kids. Often she had noticed a spark in his eyes that she had failed to see in any of the others. She knew what it was. It was the spark of inquisitiveness. Timmy loved to read…while the other children played, he kept to himself, reading quietly. When he wasn’t reading he used to while time away in his own little world dreaming of things that were far beyond the realm of normal human understanding. Sunita was astonished at some of the questions he asked… after all he was only eleven years old. She used to watch as he solved huge arithmetic problems way beyond his level with prodigious skill. It was extremely disappointing that he would never be able leave his bed. It was so unfair. Why did fate have to be so cruel to poor little Timmy?? Little did Sunita know that fate had more in store for him.

***

She was getting him a birthday present. She knew he expected one. They had gotten so close over the past few months. She was closer to him that she had ever been to anyone her entire life. She was sure he’d love her present. He loved puzzles, jigsaws in particular. Planning to throw Timmy a surprise party she got to the hospital earlier than usual. Something was wrong. Timmy wasn’t up yet. Timmy never overslept. She went closer to his bed. There he lay unconscious, drenched in his own sweat. His face was an unearthly white and blood was trickling down his nose.

It didn’t look good. It didn’t look good at all. Sunita immediately had him transferred to a multi specialty hospital where he’d receive proper care. As days passed,Timmy was subjected to innumerous tests and treatments . Finally they came to a diagnosis. He was suffering from chronic myelogenous leukemia, a disease characterized by the increased and unregulated growth of predominantly myeloid cells in the bone marrow and the accumulation of these cells in the blood.Timmy's days were numbered

The news hit Sunita like a whirlwind. She felt drained. How was it possible? Of course, she’d definitely have known. After all she had known him for quite sometime. Apart from being bedridden due to osteoporosis, there was nothing else wrong with that kid. How could it have gone undiagnosed for so long?Not that it mattered.As far as she knew there wasn’t a cure. The only treatment that had any chance of success was bone marrow transplant, which, owing to Timmy’s condition was completely out of question. Bone marrow transplant would cause a significant decrease in his bone density, and any further weakening of his already fragile bones would have serious consequences. The skeletal framework would collapse.

She rushed to the hospital. To prevent the risk of an infection, Timmy was not allowed any visitors. She begged and pleaded with them but to no avail. Finally when she told them that she was a doctor, they granted her five minutes.

What was left of Timmy was a mere shadow of his former self. His small frail body was strapped to a number of hospital instruments that monitored his vital signs. White stuff had started to accumulate at the corners of his broken parched lips. He was in great physical agony. Every once in a while his face contorted into a bitter grimace. It was the sedatives that kept him from screaming. It was difficult to tell if he was awake. Sunita moved closer to him and took his arm in hers. He looked weary and tired. He winced as a sudden burst of pain tore through his frail body.Unable to look Sunita closed her eyes as his tiny fingers clutched at the sheets.As the pain passed momentarily , his face softened.It was several minutes before he finally opened his eyes and looked at her.Using a damp cotton swab, she wet his dry lips.With a great effort he sat up.Licking longingly at the dampness he asked, in a hoarse husky voice “ How much longer do I have left?” Sunita said nothing. “I know I am going to die .I’m not scared. If only the pain would go away.” She noticed a tear run down his pallid cheek. Her eyes were burning. Blinking away the tears, she got up to leave, but he stopped her. “I don’t want to die like this.” , he said in a hoarse whisper, that sent chills down her spine.

As she left the room Sunita felt cold .It was as if she had left a friendly familiar part of her behind. She felt strangely empty and void. There was only one thing left to do. She loved Timmy. Timmy wasn’t given a fair chance in the world.His death was imminent. The least she could do was ensure that he died with dignity and not screaming in pain. She knew he wanted the same thing. It wasn't right or wrong. All that mattered was Timmy, and she was determined to put an end to his misery, once and for all.

Being a doctor it wasn’t all that difficult for her to procure a small quantity of potassium chlorate. Bolus potassium injection affects the electrical conduction of heart muscle. Elevated potassium in the bloodstream, or hyperkalemia, causes the resting electrical potential of the heart muscle cells to be higher than normal. Without a negative resting potential, cardiac cells cannot generate impulses that lead to contraction. Timmy’s death would be quick and painless.

Quietly Sunita crept past a couple of sleepy nurses, into Timmy’s room. Was he asleep; it was hard to tell. His eyes were closed, his mouth twisted into a rictus of pain. He stirred as she ran her fingers through his hair. “It’s going to be all right”; she said. “I know”, he replied with a weak smile. Tears stung her eyes. Timmy however remained strangely calm. He watched as she filled the syringe. It was time. She looked into his eyes. There was something reassuring about them. She kissed him on the forehead. He smiled. She turned her face away as the needle pierced through flesh releasing the deadly drug cocktail into his blood stream. “Thank you”, he whispered as he closed his eyes for the last time.

***

Old School's still the coolest!!!

2008-08-20T12:01:00.000-07:00

I‘ve been putting off this post for quite a while, But I don’t think ill be able to any more seeing that all of my friends’ blogs have a post about Loyola and mine does not. Having studied in Loyola for 13 years it seems only proper for me to have one in my blog as well.
Where do I start? Words fail me … I realize how difficult it is to put in words what Loyola means to me. It’s hardly been a year and half since ive passed out but have I moved on??…I guess not… Everybody knows how passionate we are about school. In fact even after passing out most of us spend our free time at school, hanging out… a rarity in most other institutions, and that is precisely what makes Loyola different. To us it is more that just a school. It has become part of our soul.
13 of the most glorious years of my life I’ve spent here and I am proud to say that I cherish each and every moment of it too, thanks to 48 very special people, with whom ive spent more than three quarters of my life. Well, Ive had conflicts with quite a few of them, but over the years, ive come to realize that, you quarrel the most with people you truly care about. Every time I return to school warm memories swarm my mind. Heck, right now I’d give anything in the world to be a 16 yr old again and return to Loyola as a twelfth grader.
`Boy do I miss those lunch breaks…. Observing Darwins theory of evolution in action, in our own Joseph uncles watery beef curry…what used to be beef evolved into single celled and later even into multi cellular organisms… more recently sightings of humanoid creatures with opposable thumbs have been reported….
Then came a certain Mr. Fijo Funny’s computer classes…Mr Fijo Funny (alias) was none other than our dearest computer professor, who was roughly as intelligent as the guy who invented the wheel… This poor unsuspecting soul believed that every living hour we spent in the computer lab was devoted to cpp…. He also has the dubious distinction of being the only computer professor in the world who was unware of what a small group of computers connected over LAN is capable of. There was also a group of students whose sole purpose in life was to annoy the living shit out of poor Mr. Fijo….
Then there was dear old Edassery achan who threatened to expel me for not repaying a hugeeeeeee loan of 10 bucks. Syam still owes him a couple thousand bucks.
Oh yea, DP s classes were a treat too. DP …….who was able to see beyond the extreme sexual euphemism of a poem (kubla khan) while less confused perversion obsessed mortals like us were unable to. To quote a black immigrant dude from her class “Ithonnum kubla khan swapnathil polum vicharichu kaanilla!!!” Once in a while she’d take us out to the multimedia room to catch a good flick and we’d have the time of our lives “alambing”…that’s where some of us actually learnt to wolf whistle.
I even remember our biology classes way back in the sixth standard and someone asking Thomaskutty sir where a flowering plants testicles were??
Then there was joy sir…. our friendly neighbourhood genius who would have gone on to become the winner of the popular TV reality show ”Americas Next Big MAD SCIENTIST! Muhuhahaha*cough*” if he hadn’t become a teacher!! Some say he’s messy but I beg to deffer… he’s just obsessed with the 70 s style…ya know…the “sodakuppi” glass, the hippie hairstyle sans head band…and its common knowledge that in the 70’s people used to wear the same shirt atleast 4 times a week and shave once a year, so its okay.
Our batch plans to present him with a comb on our 10th anniversary reunion. (If he doesn’t have a wig by then that is!).
Being a K.U. sophomore is no fun at all. Heck, you don’t even get time to take a comfortable dump. Only now do I realize how much I truly miss Loyola. The happiest moments of my life were spent walking down that narrow lane from sreekariyam to Loyola. The Loyola, which gave me a thousand memories that ill hold close to my heart till my dying day; the Loyola that gave us the freedom to be whatever we wanted to be; the Loyola that moulded each and every one of us 49,into proper men of substance…

WE WERE THE 49- THE BOTS!!!!- BROTHERS……AND WILL ALWAYS BE TILL DEATH DO US PART!!!

Thommus Tag!!!!!!!!(my very first)

2008-04-03T12:14:00.000-07:00

1. LAST MOVIE YOU SAW IN A THEATER?
National treasure: Book of secrets, it was a pretty okay flick-nothing spectacular. A lil’sillier and stupider than the original yet surprisingly enjoyable. You get your moneys worth, nothing more

2. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING?
The Fourth Estate - Jeffery Archer. Extremely similar to Kane and Abel, but not even half as good. This one’s also about two individuals from starkly contrasting backgrounds who by an unforeseen turn of events are pitted against each other. Sound familiar? :D

3. FAVORITE BOARD GAME?
Uhm lets c…monopoly I guess

4. FAVORITE MAGAZINE?
Naah, not very much into magazines …luuuv comics though, lol, read anything I can get my hands on, faav being Calvin and Hobbes :D

5. FAVORITE SMELLS?
Ahh, yes ze smell of cigarette smoke and alcohol, yea I love the smell of petrol too:D

6. FAVORITE SOUND?
Bruce Dickinson \m/ :D

7. WORST FEELING IN THE WORLD?
U dream that you re having sex with hayden panettiere and then suddenly u wake up!!!

8. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU THINK OF WHEN YOU WAKE?
I wonder what’s for breakfast :D

9. FAVORITE FAST FOOD PLACE?
The kaithamukku thattukada

10. FUTURE CHILD'S NAME?
Eric Cartman ………….

11. FINISH THIS STATEMENT. "IF I HAD A LOT OF MONEY I’D...?
Las Vegas heeereeee I cooomeee!!!!!!!!

12. DO YOU DRIVE FAST?
Dad wont let me go above 60 :(

13. DO YOU SLEEP WITH A STUFFED ANIMAL?
EWWWW!!!! I’M WAAAY TOO OLD TO BE SLEEPING WITH ANIMALS (STUFFED OR NOT)!!!My teddy bear and I were inseparable till I was about 3……speaking of which ..a couple of days back I found my old teddy bear with its head bitten off : (

14. STORMS - COOL OR SCARY?
MUMMY!!!!!!!!!!!

15. WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CAR?
a Mercedes

16. FAVORITE DRINK?
COLD COFFEEEEEEEE…YUMMMMMMMM!!!!!

17. FINISH THIS STATEMENT, "IF I HAD THE TIME I WOULD"
…Have wasted it away

18. DO YOU EAT THE STEMS ON BROCCOLI?
:-??

19. IF YOU COULD DYE YOUR HAIR ANY COLOR, WHAT WOULD BE YOUR CHOICE?
PURPLE…..THEN ID PIERCE MY EYEBROWS TOO!!!!!!

20. NAME ALL THE DIFFERENT CITIES/TOWNS YOU HAVE LIVED IN.
Trivandrum (1990-??),

21. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH?
soccer,

22. ONE NICE THING ABOUT THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU
oru panja paavam :p

23. WHAT'S UNDER YOUR BED?
Piles and piles of dirty laundry, smelly socks, radioactive monkeys & The Boogeyman!!!!!

24. WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE BORN AS YOURSELF AGAIN?
No :|

25. MORNING PERSON OR NIGHT OWL?
a bit of both

26. OVER EASY, OR SUNNY SIDE UP?
Over easy. Sunny side up eggs are way too runny, eating them can be a very messy affair.

27. FAVORITE PLACE TO RELAX?
A bar mebbe

28. FAVORITE PIE?
American pie(s)….all 6 of em: D .

29. FAVORITE ICE CREAM FLAVOR?
chocolate.

30. OF ALL THE PEOPLE YOU TAGGED THIS TO, WHO'S MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND FIRST?
no idea
syam
sid
AD
Bambu

V-DAY+D-DAY=VD-DAY...I GUESS

2008-02-29T10:22:00.000-08:00

Phew, I know it has been quite some time since my first post, and I apologize for the long gap. I have been really busy with…u know… stuff and haven’t found much time to blog…the past few weeks have been very eventful to say the least. Lots of stuff has happened …some good, some not so good…well all I know is that ive come to realize that college isn’t all that fucked up after all. I mean, once u’ve gotten past the dusty classrooms and the dreadful food and all that shit, it’s pretty all right. The past couple of weeks have been positively awesome.
It all started of with a valentines day; as usual I forgot all about the significance of the day and went to college wearing red, got picked on by a couple of seniors for being cocky enough wear red…. nothing worth mentioning happened during class [actually im unaware of what happened as I was asleep for most part of class]. Woke up a few minutes before lunch break. During lunch break I came to know of this “love letter writing competition”. Being the perverted asshole I am I was among the first to register. Filled the paper with enough sexually arousing shit to knock an elephant out for more than a couple of weeks. After this particular incident I spied a number of dudes giving me looks of awe, as if I were some kind of sex God [freaky huh…me of all the people…they used to call me “lardo”. Hahaha…]. Well anyway, there was a tug of war match later on. Unfortunately the rope broke halfway through and this put an end to the festivities. We lost an hour’s attendance. Some thing else happened on v-day, I discovered that I had a crush on this girl. She’s your typical, run of the mill buji. Some how I found her attractive. To me she was a goddess, a being of divine pristine beauty. But I couldn’t muster enough courage to tell her. So I told a friend, who told a friend, who told a friend, who happened to be her friend, and need less to say I got the very answer I was dreading “sorry, not interested”… Heartbroken and devastated, I moped around for a couple of days, unsure of whether to drown my sorrows in alcohol or get drowned in certain other bodily fluids[uhm ........u know what i mean.....]..…well I decided to go with the latter and after 3 days of porn, more porn and then some more porn, I was a new man, resistant to all human desire. Soon after the disastrous Valentines Day we had our freshers day, and need less to say it sucked. Well, actually it wasn’t all that bad .The food was awful, but apart from that it alright [mainly because I got to check out some sizzling hot chicks]…they made us do a lot a shitty stuff on stage, and most of us managed to make complete asses of ourselves. I remember these two dudes who were asked to do a duet dance for the “Om shanti Om” soundtrack. One of them, a northie, determined to impress the seniors swayed and shook (from where I sat it looked as if he was having a seizure).”Shanti” stood some distance away watching timidly. He pranced around and as the music came to a close, he pulled “Shanti” into a tight hug and planted a kiss… on HIS lips…(LIVE GAY PORN!!!!!! How do ya like that????) For a moment everybody was silent and soon tremendous applause broke out. Both of them were rewarded with a “munch” for their effort. On the whole our freshers day was pretty cool. Hey, at least we weren’t forced to wear pinky pointy party hats throughout the event unlike those Bio Tech dudes.