Sunday, August 20, 2006

Dark Side of The Moon

For those who realized that the title is a Floyd song, screw you. For those who don't, screw you anyway. This is an excellent post. In this, I'm going to be posting all the 'poems' I wrote, while sitting at the KPN Bus Stand, waiting for an eleven 'o' clock bus, that turned up only at eleven forty five. This is the product of an idle mind, a devil's workshop. Hence the title. QED. By the way, these are more couplets than actual poems. I don't have the patience to write an entire poem.

1. Comets streak the gloomy sky,
brand my heart, I know not why.
Touch a chord within me,
I think I like astronomy.

2. Doubt not the hope of man,
doubt not his desire.
Stain not his character,
nor his attire.

3. Forever lost in thought shall I be,
forever lost in doubt.
Forever trying to rid of thee,
trying to throw you out.

4. She ripped a hole in his heart,
the size of her fist.
She did a lot more,
this is just the gist.

Confounded? Well, I did start every couplet with the intention of writing a serious, proper one. Unfortunately, the dark side took over each time with the above. However, the mark of a man is in his conquering his own spirit. So, I managed to actually write a few serious poems (atleast to me). Here they are.

5. You chant, war is what we hate,
war is what we loathe,
war is as useful as a run aground boat.
Know then that you are a fool.
Peace we desire,
War is but a tool.

6. He limped down the street,
down the road he hobbled.
He tripped and fell,
upon the stones cobbled.

They helped him up, they did,
They asked of him, his story sordid.
Never a larger audience did listen to him.
He sat them down and told them,
the story of his limp.

Vietnam, he called it.
Vietcong, he named them.
A hero he was,
ere a bullet made him maim.

7. In the land of the dead, he roams.
Alone for eternity, his fate he mourns.

Purge his spirit he must, to enter the pearly gates.
Cleanse your soul they say, or a fiery hell awaits.

All this was before loss of power in my hostel for about two hours. Sitting in the dark, I actually managed to write an entire poem. I think this really combines both the types above.

8. So alighted her delicate form,
from the wavering boat.
I felt pangs of passion,
with my lips, hers I smote.

They touched but a second,
she pulled away,
a moments lust,
thrown away.

"I am not the one you pine for.
She died a while ago.
I am not the one you long for,
She drowned in her sorrow."

Her words are heard,
not understood.
He steps out beside her,
a hollow sound upon the wood.

Against her will,
she had been forced to marry.
He owned a mill, they said
and also a quarry.

I will never forget her face that day,
It is etched into my memory, as if today.

My life seemed empty,
my soul seemed hollow,
My eyes stared vacantly.
as if to follow.

Her every move,
in the space of our lives,
in a means to disprove,
her little lies.

"They would condemn us!", she said,
"Burn us at the stake.
Accuse us of heresy,
and throw us into the lake."

And so I agreed to forget,
her love for fear of them.
Thats why I sit here yet,
writing this lesbian love poem.

Thats it. This is what I have managed to compose in the last two days. I assure you I have given up my wayward ways. No more poetry for me. I initially took it up because my best friend kidn of challenged me to. Blame this burden on him..

Sunday, August 13, 2006

India Shining... Dimly.

Man! Is this country ever going to improve? I know there are billions of people who will come running out waving their patriotic, tricolored pyjamas saying 'Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for the country'. That, is a load of hogwash. Thats like asking me to stay in the country and work, but not expect any sort of progress. Bullshit.

Another group of people are those that say "If you want India to improve, do it yourself". These are the same people that stand up and cry when they don't get their monthly pension, or their telephone gets disconnected by mistake. Go climb a pole and fix it you hypocrite!

I had occasion to travel to Ooty recently. It was the biggest mistake of my life. I ended up spending 12 hours on a slow, tortuous trip to Coimbatore, and then suffering through another 5 hour trip to Ooty by bus. Its utter nonsense. It can't take that long to go from Chennai to Ooty, can it? The bus driver was slow, his helper was drunk. The bus was stopped every 15 minutes, for some moron who couldn't control his bladder, to pee. I spent more time traveling to and from Ooty than actually in Ooty.

The first group of patriots probably expect me to shut up and take the suffering right? While the second wants me to throw the driver out and take the wheel. The problem with India is that people don't want to do their job. No one is happy with the line of work they are in. The driver probably hates driving, or loathes buses. Or both. He's stuck driving however. Of course, the pay is not going to be very good either since the guy who owns the bloody transport corporation wants to buy himself a perfumed, stain-proof lungi. Seriously, who the hell wants a perfumed lungi? I've never heard of a more useless invention. Oooh! Look at me! My crotch is fragrant!Idiots.

When I initially booked my tickets, I booked it at an agency called National Travels. I was told to board the bus from Jehan Bharat Travels. The bus that came bore the name City Travels. I was frustrated at this point itself, but what made it worse, was the part where I was allotted the last seat, and there was no push back. I pay Three Hundred and Eighty fricking bucks and I fricking expect a reclining seat. The monster lady in front of me however, got a full reclining seat. Needless to say, I barely had space to breathe.

Where was I to complain? The drunk helper? The slow driver? National Travels? Jehan Bharat? City? Thats when it hit me. The old lady's seat - in the face.

I can't wait to leave India. I can't wait to get to a place where the public is respected. I can't wait to leave all the smelly, overcrowded cities here. I know that in my lifetime, I can do nothing to fix this problem. Following the advice of the first group, I don't expect anything from this country. Following the advice of the second group, I'm fixing the problem - by leaving.

Patriots beware! I carry a shotgun.

Ban Stupidity First...

Its really aggravating to see cola drinkers like me punished while idiots go scot free. Is India blind? Or just stupid? Or are they led by a bespectacled Sardar? Hmmm... something to think about.

The other day I was reading this 'news' paper called Deccan Chronicle. In it were the rather fervent protests of the morons who think that banning a cola can cure India of AIDS. The front page of the paper carried a photograph of the 'protestor'. It was an uneducated, ignorant buffon who stood triumnphantly holding a bottle of Cola. How do I know he was uneducated and ignorant? The bottle of cola was being forced down the throat of a camel! Hell, even I have more brains than that and I can't divide 150 by 3 without using a calculator! This amounts to animal rights abuse. The camel doesn't want to drink it! Stop forcing it to, you jackass!

I seriously hope he didn't mean to say that even Camels don't want to drink the swill we call cola. Since when did camels become the new standard for testing edible foods? Camels don't drink coffee, they don't drink tea. They don't eat pizzas and pastries. You know what they eat? Grass! Loads and loads of grass! Obviously, they don't want to drink cola! So, not only is this guy practising animal abuse, he's stupid too! Throw him in jail first!

The next time, stupidity hit me like a sledgehammer to the nose, was when I picked up this sham of a newspaper again. A few days later, in the supplement, the editors decided to print some information about how possessive boyfriends butcher their girlfriends. The column was substantiated with an 'expert' opinion. I use the term expert here loosely, since they don't amount to anything more than unemployed dorks. The 'expert' here actually tries to help girls spot when their boyfriend becomes possessive. Here's an excerpt of his advice, typed out for free by yours truly for the sole purpose of geting this quack in jail and buggered for life. 'If you're boyfriend starts acting out of character, somethings wrong'. No shit Sherlock! You don't say! You mean that calling up at 12 midnight is NOT normal? Oh my god, I am a grown woman with a boyfriend and the apparent power to read, and yet cannot figure out that my boyfriends gone off his rocker just because he called me at night to find out where I am or tries to know all my friends. Thank you, Dr. Whats-his-name, I salute your endless supply of needless nonsense.

Please. These are the guys that take India down from the gutter into the rocky layer below the city. These are the intelligential sub-strata of society. They should have an IQ test for anyone over the age of 5 and those who failed, automatically get guillotined.

I say we ban stupidity first. Might give me time to stock up on cola. Idiots.

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

Pretentiously Pedantic, Positively Ignorant

I had recent occassion to read through some of the words used in the GRE (read, I wrote my GRE). It was pathetic. It left me devoid of any emotion and I felt pedantic to the point of nearly becoming pretentious and bombastic. I decided that a philistine outlook was called for and changed my temperament in order to behoove my social standing. The stratum that I am placed in is rather bellicose and required me to constantly eulogize it, when I was actually elegying it. It was incumbent on me to learn the rather tortuous word list and then spew the same out in the exam.

If you can read the above paragraph and understand it, congratulations, you're a dumbass. You just spent ten minutes on a paragraph that means nothing. Its really sad, that the language they expect of you in GRE is rather reminiscent of the lingo used in Management. The best part of management, is that you can say everything, without every saying anything. Using bombastic words to actually pretend you're doing some work is the kind of work I see myself doing ten years from now and I will use bombastic words to pretend I am using bombastic words, till you are stuck in a vicious circle trying to find out just what I have done, all the while being watched by me with a smirk on my face and my inevitably-illegal-by-then cola in my hand.

The unwarranted expansion in my vocabulary, although temporary is still infuriating to many around me who cannot comprehend the verbal barrage that I spew, simpletons that they are. This however, means that I am surrounded by a dwindling numbe of friends, as those simple few who donot wish to partake in the joy that is complicated English, desert me in favour of colloqial and hence simpler English.

Bottom Line of this Post: I wrote GRE. I'm losing friends.

Pirates Of The Carribean: Dead Man's Chest

POC: COTBP was an awesome movie. I am not going to bother expanding the title. If you haven't seen it, stop breathing now. Or rent it and see it right away.

The sequel isn't as great as the original. But then, sequels rarely are. Johnny Depp reprises his role as Jack Sparrow to perfection. It's really great to see him in action again. Unfortunately, with Depp, they had to bring back Orlando Bloom. This guy is easily the worst actor ever. He's also not the hunk of Hollywood. His role is really good, but he sucks. I hate him. It has something to do with the fact that he got Keira Kneightley in POC: COTBP.

The movie is not as funny as the first one but it's definitely twice as confusing. Something about Davy Jones, barnacles and a lot of gore. According to me, this has all the ingredients to make it an assless movie. It has a great male lead - Johnny Depp, female lead - KK is a goddess, plus a confusing story, comedy and did I mention KK? What stops it from getting a 0 ass rating however, is the pervasive presence of Orlando Bloom.


Don't Ban Colas

The title says it all. The government has no right to ban what they think is harmful for us. We are not a nation of thumb-sucking babies. Atleast, most of us are past the thumb-sucking and have been promoted to bed-wetting.

Jokes aside, this is not the kind of decision a democratic government can make so easily. Lets face the facts. Cigarette smoking is more injurious to health than drinking a cola. How many people you know are 'addicted' to cola? I know just one. Me. You prob know just one. Me. But you see a lot more people addicted to tobacco, something that is more potent and dangerous than a bottle of cola.

Don't show me bottles of cola and tell me they are full of pesticide and can be used to clean the toilet and can dissolve teeth. Those are extremely concentrated acids and no one soaks his teeth overnight in cola so they taste better in the morning. Caffeine is dangerous too, in large enough quantities. Yet, we are alright with taking a cup of coffee in the morning before we brush our teeth. Everyday.

I can just imagine the news. "Drinks Cola, Dies. " This would be followed by a special report, then an extra report and finally an extra special report. All spewing the same nonsense. It's bullshit. Cola is harmful in large quantities. So is caffeine and a hundred other things. Including oxygen. Did you know that if you breathe pure oxygen for too long, you can die?

I hate people showing me news items where a person has collapsed because he drank four 1 litre bottles of cola. That's pure hogwash. Give the same guy 4 litres of coffee and he'd probably die! Its the quantity that matters too doofus! Stopping endorsements of colas by stars is not going to make people forget about it. Its the same way that Bacardi advertises Apple Juice and Kingfisher advertises Mineral Water. Please. We know you trying to sell us alcohol.

Which reminds me. Why hasn't alcohol been banned yet? To hell with all cola banning nations and governments. I say, replace all IV drips with cola. The patient'd die peacefully atleast.

The Priest looked like Aragon

It's official. I've lost it. Not the possession of my mental faculties you dolt, my old poonal. For the non-brahmin readers of this rather modest blog, a poonal is the thread that brahmins consider sacred. Avani Avattam is the day we replace the old poonal with a new one. As usual, it was a day of bizarre occurrences for me.

First off, the priest really reminded me of Aragon. He had the same facial structure and teeth. On a tangential note, did anyone else notice that a majority of the cast in the LOTR trilogy had very poor dental hygiene? Was it just me, or did Aragon and Eowyn have really messed up teeth? Next, the guy sitting next to me also was really familiar. It was really aggravating. I finally figured out where I've seen him before. I once designed a character in a game who looked just like him. What a loser! Imagine being born with a face someone has designed in a computer game!

During the actual ritual, this game guy suddenly produced a twig out of thin air and placed it in front of me. It had a centipede on it. Either a centipede or a millipede. It was blood red in colour and was struggling to get off the twig. It eventually did, and proceeded to weave a course towards me. I was transfixed by this evil creature heading my way. I picked up a twig and caught the 'pede on it and placed it down so that it's feet were off the ground. Harmless thing to do, I thought. My uncle next to me however, kept staring at it. So a neighbour gave him a scrap of paper ostensibly to cover the twig with but my uncle freaked out and grabbed the 'pede with the scrap of paper and folded it and threw it behind him. Seriously more interesting than the slokas.

There comes a time in every brahmin's life when he wears both poonals together. For just an instant. Therein lies the fundamental inconsistency of brahmin scriptures. Or my clumsiness. I managed to get both the new and old poonals intertwined in a matter of seconds. My uncle and I were struggling for about fifteen minutes trying to unravel the darn thing, only managaing to make it worse, when a kindly soul lent us a blade and we chopped off more than half of the old one. I walked out of the temple with half the old one dangling from my shoulder. When I went home, it took all of two minutes for my aunt to untangle the mess and I was a free bird!

The same thing happened last year too. It was like God telling me not to wear a new poonal. Or telling me to wear both. Or telling me to be more religious. Anyway, I don't understand why God can't make his intentions clearer if he is omnipotent. But thats another story, for another day.