Showing posts with label My Life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label My Life. Show all posts

Monday, June 21, 2010

Blue Blood

It’s not easy to hold thoughts, they seek avenues; just like a wet dream. At the back of my mind, I had an idea but somehow was feeling quite reluctant to pen down those random thoughts. Somewhere, in some way I didn’t know how to define HER; defiantly I was missing out something and hence was avoiding. Few days back I read Ramu’s blog where he described his passion for Sridevi; right at that moment I decided that I am going to write what I was feeling for so many years.

Boy meets a girl, either it turns out to be love or hatred, friendship perhaps can exist but what I had for her was unlike of human nature. More often, relationship is seen with the lens of voyeurism or lust and seldom with respect but what I felt for her was above all these lucid emotions, it was divine, of its own league it was indeed a pure devotion and that’s what I felt for her when I first saw her in the springs of 2002.

Springs as a metaphor is interpreted as kind of re-birth, springs of 2002 was much like a arousal for me, although I was born some years back but the day I saw her first is what I feel as I was born in the real sense. It was then I realized the sense and developed the appetite to appreciate beauty, her charm was in comparable; and yet its adorableness was there for the naked eyes. The ecstasy; that ran in my blood was like the 440 volt of current which made be dumbfounded. She was indeed a gratifying edifice, which defined the meaning of delicacy with utmost elegance and grace. If at all I ever thanked god for creating humans then it was only for her; whom I call ANGEL.

Physicist were sadly mistaken as they defined only four forces, and skipped the most important one, “Force of getting lured” which she exuded from her winsome gestures. The spell of her beauty was for which anyone can die for; which can mesmerize even the dead ones, and can make them realize that they are DEAD. Her amiable smile; the symbol of peace; was so pious that it could have cured any hazardous disease; probably that’s why she was a medicine student. I always wished her to be a doctor and me being her patient, ah!! What else can one desire for?

Ok let me try to describe her , I know it sounds bit wired and it’s equally audacious to define ANGEL in mere words where she herself stand as a epitome of literature and whole world seems minuscule in front of her. For me she was the quintessential form of beauty, blended with the rawness of innocence, this made others aesthetic and the enigma of her personality; that I couldn’t fathom till this date was simply telesmatic. Her face gave a resemblance of Vinci’s Mona Lisa; still, calm and enigmatic, her black hair were road to heaven and her nose; which was a like a ruby entangled in a necklace. I honestly believe that adjectives were discovered because of her, and since I have done the sin of describing her, I just want to say she truly justifies the concept of anthropomorphism.

This story began when I joined classes and she too was there. It looks quite disgusting that an Angel has to get enroll, though books was her forte but still like all other routine humans she had to do the dutiful. I use to come hour before as all the students including her use to wait in the park outside the classes. Since she uses to come directly from school so had no alternative but to wait for an hour, although I had no reason to come early and wait there but still I use to be there for her, just to have a glimpse of her from the other side of the park.

The day arrived, she came to classes after a break as she was suffering from typhoid; I went to had some water from the water cooler and suddenly Angel was there in front of my eyes . I wished I could pause that particular moment and behold her till eternity but as we know beautiful moments comes in a small quantum of time and so was this, I thought of kindle the conversation by enquiring about her health but it felt as if I have to ask James Cameron about his break that he took after making Titanic, as she has no other job except briefing me with her health. Nevertheless our conversation was like Titanic unlike of Kate Winslet and L’ DeCapri; it was more like that giant ship which had to sink. I wasted time in analyzing and she herself greeted me and that was last thing I remember because for next one hour I was actually subconscious.

This was the first time when I had an eye contact with her, her dark black eyes with a brownish eyeball looked like a brownish egg with the golden refraction, laid deep beneath in the sea. Her eyes were truly the metaphoric symbol for the calm ocean where lots of ships can co-exist and yet each of them believes that ocean belongs to him only. Her eyes exuded kindness and at the same time they exhibited the authority. Black Bindi on her forehead multi folded the depth of her eyes and a mole on her chin; exuberated the show. She had a dulcet dialect and her voice, echoed in my ear for whole week. For next seven days I tried not to be in her vicinity as another dosage of her charm would have made me fugue.

Once after our class was done, i saw her on the road amid with her two friends; negotiating with some Auto driver; how lucky that dog was? Having said that he was a moron too; arguing with damsel, who has come from paradise, beautifully clad in her white uniform was absurd.

I don’t know why I love monsoon, but I just love them. After a heavy shower, there is a rare aroma due to the wet loam (soil), this aroma has its own hysteria, incomparable fragrance. Gosh I love to love what I love about monsoon.

Some motivate by their deeds and some with their actions; it started raining; I took an extra umbrella for her. In the meantime it got really dirty; though it was noon but it was already dark. First I thought of skipping my class but then I thought about her and soon all ambiguities were over. She came in, almost dry yet her hair were wet. Though she had an umbrella but somehow her face was looked wet. It looked like an angel from a fairy tale has found new abode and has witnessed first shower of her life; intrigued about rains so playing with it and up there; so called deities; watching the delightful sight and this made rain of proud of itself.

What I saw next was truly cinematic; in a tight close up, where only the upper half of her face was in the focus; the grip was so fine that I was able to capture even her small gestures and she did something; she winked her eyes, her eyelashes kissed each other and when they got apart something happened and it disturbed me, something got dripped which shifted my focus from her eyes; it was the rain drop. At that particular point those rain drops were like price less pearls. Her ear had an entangled drop and it looked like the tip of the snowy covered mountain, this was indeed majestic. At that time, my eyes kept wide open as was my mouth and it felt that there is goddess, goddess of beauty who has just taken a sacred bath, standing in front of me and she shredding priceless moments which none of the camera can ever capture except; except my eyes, and with that I winked them and captured the most rare moment of my life.

Rare thing happens rarely and that’s why they become rare. It was a dream come true, I was in my car and she came out from the classes, I asked her friend’s friend for the drop, chain reaction got instigated and soon she with her friends were there. I wanted her to sit beside me as other way; her glimpse in the rear-view mirror would have distracted; jokes apart it would have been ………. . She sat behind driver’s seat and with that I adjusted my rear-view, she scroll down the window and cool breeze came in and kissed her face, disturbing her hair and then my concentration. With every turn I had her view and it became more prominent, though it was only side view but it worth a ton. I left them at their destination but the presence of her is still there in the rear view.

I hate winters and there is no second thought about that, freezing down to the single digit temperature, wrapped with fleece, can’t imagine a second without room heater, and that’s why I always wonder why the hell it has to be. Finally I was dawned with the wisdom and winters of 2003 became the most memorable and the unforgettable one.

It was an arduous winter, we had a class at 7 in the morning, I was there at well before time, as it was supposed to be the last time I could see her and I had no intentions to ruin it so I was well before time, I had a company of my friend and FOG, of course no need to say about angel since was always there in my mind. At around 8 doors were opened and except me and my friend only few were there, trembling in the cold winter my mind was praying only for her, don’t know just wanted to see her for the last time.

Few more came, but still something was missing; it was 8:30 and finally she arrived; she was in a velvet green jacket. She entered with a smile on her face and of course seeing her smiling, I felt esthetic, somehow there was the sense of Warmth and the amalgamation of being in cold and warmth was divine, which I never felt again. She uttered something to her friend; although her voice wasn’t audible but I could see the smoke/frost coming out from her mouth, and somehow I think I owe it to god since all these feeling and especially this scene was not possible without having WINTERS

Before I can end up I just want to say, throughout this post I didn’t mention her color, neither I mentioned her height nor I made her a selling commodity and address her with derogatory rhetoric like ravishing, sensuous, voluptuous…etc; because I feel that these things can never define the essence of the beauty, to the maximum, they can manipulate the feelings with the Sham of some glamorous vocabulary and glittering emotions which die as soon one closes his eyes. I never heard any violins or for that matter Mozart; neither I visualized any song sequence, in short no filmy clichéd happened with me but whatever happened was more than that, something which can be seen with your closed eyes, which could be realized without touching it, u can hear it not from your ears but from your heart and finally, it’s the feeling which never dies as its connected with your soul. This is exactly what I felt about her.

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

ROAD TO PERDITION

Of late I have been stuck with a feeling that I should pack my bags and find some new abode. It’s always been a hurricane task to where one should ahead and one must have equally strong reason to do so. I can’t dismay the fact that if a feeling for doing something arises; then there is always some base of inking which strides one to move forward.

It may sound like as if I was watching SWADES last night and today I have made up my mind and want to be at my Native place; on contrast such decisions comes with lots of thinking and tons of belief.

Many of the times people nag about the wrong choices they made, some extend their folly by blaming their current scenario for the one mistake; if ever one can call it as a mistake, and find it as the sole reason for their debacle. Probably above fact may stand true but for me freedom of choice never existed. Choice is a hypothetical term devised by humans to make our self comfortable with another hypothetical term called as DESTINY; we choose what we were destined but we assumed as if it was our forte.

If a stone is thrown in the sky, and if it has consciousness; then it might believe that it’s flying of its own and so is the case with humans.

The day I thought of returning to my roots I was stuck with oodles of worries as the hero of our Hindi movies finds when villain orders him some odd job. The sleepless nights, followed by skipping of lunches, sometime dinners but no breakfast as we don’t have, but what annoyed me most was the fact of time taken for one simple decision, probably it does take (time) if one is at dead end of a road and thinks that he is at a crossroad.

Some choose death over destiny and some slavery over death, former are the brave ones and I am not. Honestly me and my friends we belong to the later one; How can I leave a metropolitan over some small town which has nothing in it; I mean how even can imagine being at such a place where still people use ABACUS for calculation.

I was born to do something big and how can I achieve without being the integral part of the mob of any Metro??? Think of our films, how does Hero makes his fortunes only when he comes to Mumbai; okie since we belong to the elated clan of Software developers so our fortune has to be in BANGALORE.

If at all for an instance, I believe that I am bored, need something new to taste, am fed up with same thing; wait wait I am talking about my job, please don’t make this otherwise. If at all I imagine then again my worries of insecurity, risk, question of adaptability comes and again vulnerability becomes the key player.

God why I am so vulnerable?

Mumbai or Bangalore, it might be the same context as someone tries his luck at New York and then visits Dubai and finally wants to make a comeback to India and finds pollution, population and amenities as the basic reason of not making a comeback.

So when I was thinking from the above perspective, I got to see some new corners of this multidimensional cube. I needed some strong beliefs which can counter my disbelief and force me to take some stern decision against the uncertain and lame ones which often comes from the copout behavior of being a Southern Asian homo sapiens's.

Yeah I agree it was me who left it over Mumbai and the alibi I made was “Lack of opportunity”; something which entire nation faces and actually it’s not exactly lack in terms of OPPORTUNITIES but in real sense it’s the ZEST. It was my enthusiasm for MUMBAI which became the reason for my graduation at that place and it was sheer confidence and my belief on being a trash in all the engineering departments, except one, and that’s why I am in Bangalore.

Confusion, irritation, palpitation…. This is not the solution to any problem, yet I wasted majority of time on being worried about something, SOMETHING which I could never fathom. It is never a PLACE or the OPPORTUNITIES or the PEOPLE, it is the Programmed mind set which made me gratified that I was at the right place; and while believing it I missed something, something vital; I got RIGHT in a wrong context. Right thing done at a right time at a right place, when pitched against right people makes something called as “RIGHT” and then it becomes an idea which can kill million people.

The best alibi for being a citizen of a metropolitan city is that one constantly learns some new things, gain some experiences which one cannot find in some small town or a city. So here I take the onus of being a Patient Of Over Broad Mediocre Concept as it never states where to implement the learning part and how to unlearn the illogical deductions.

Going with same over broad mediocre sense of belief, I just want to raise one doubt, I want to juxtapose a simple question against my pious conscious; how much did I learn in the past one-two year or which business trick or new idea has struck my mind in the past 12/24 months or in better words what is my gain in last…….?

If the learning graph is parallel to X axis as well as the earning one then how can I justify my deeds of misinterpreting me as a visionary futuristic ?????; who 90 percent of his time is actually a Visionary, Who Is Frustrated….

Yet I know that my mind is fucked up with a programmed mind set and I know the mantra of deprogramming my mind but still I find it hard to believe that this is a road to perdition and still want to continue with this so called coward attitude which some people refer as INBETWEENIST.

This was indeed a scenario where even a dumb can relate it with the CAREER OPTION; however my point was only OPTIONS which some people refer as CHOICES; same process takes place whenever we are in a dilemma and have to take a decision which questions our venerability.

Monday, March 22, 2010

School Days

Not many people know that the only place I have ever respected is my school. It would not be an appropriate affirmation to consider school as barely an institute where one gets develop and learn some text book stuff. The best part about school days is, they are incomprehensive and yet majority finds them comprehensive.


Right from the beginning I use to misjudge myself as a prodigy and the reason for my wisdom was my mom; she was VP in the same school. Initially when I shifted from my Mom’s school to GHPS I was kind of coy and use to sob a lot, I use to feel alien and there was no one whom I can befriend with. My class teacher, Mrs Ravinder Kaur (RK)whome I regard most made some sitting changes and I was asked to sit with our class monitor; Kavnit, the girl monitor. This change brought a lot of change in me, I was in complete rapture and to a certain extent it was bound to happen since prior to it, I use to share my seat with RAJAT DEEP SINGH aka teera (RDS).

P.S Teera means someone with squint

RDS was not a Bad Guy but he was the GUY; and given a choice who the hell will enjoy such a company. I still remember my first tryst, he gave me those weird looks and he resembled damn close to Sir John of movie Ram Lakhan, who had a glass eye. I know it sounds rude and unethical but it’s the truth. Secondly he was almost double to me in all respects (I am not considering the neural network) and use to DISTRIBUTE warnings as if it comes of free; later I came to know that he was the son of Mrs Sarita Reen, our Hindi Teacher and one of favorites.

Ms RK had some differences with Ms Reen so it was inevitable that she will have any kind of soft corner for RDS; the whole sitting arrangement was a game played between the most ethical teachers and it was me who was real benefiter.

P.S later me and Kavnit became good buddies and we are still in touch.

Kavnit and Navdeep (Ishar) aka laambi were the heavy weights of 4th A and were best of the enemies. There was a continuous exchange of expressions, sorry quote typical girl’s expression unquote and a conscious effort to outplay your rival. Later they claimed that it was the kind of misunderstanding but for me it was the essence of Female physic. Within a year they became bosom buddies; keeping all the allegations aside they joined hands and now shared the same rapport and indulged with their girl rivalry with NAVDEEP (Roll No 1), who became famous after her Picnic for Madhopur.

The Split

The split which took place in the beginning of 6th standard made lot of people in SPLITS. It was deliberate effort to shuffle sections and which end up making section A rich in all natural resources and the waste was distributed between B and C. Section A was loosely referred as Lale Di Section (Ramneek Singh) which later became RUPI ki Class and finally it was remembered as Giant Sameer Gupta’s (Big Show of GHPS) Section and C remained the BY-PRODUCT of A and B. It was time when I came across two young turks, one was all time GEM (Puneet Gupta- the painter Babu) and a Real time blabbermouth (Ankur Raina aka Rabbit singh salesmen of the year); Madeep Singh Kapoor,(MSK), the self acclaimed prince charming of our class or the biggest story teller of all times; I don’t have words to describe him that’s why I use to address him as KulGuru Lapatu das , followed by standoffish persona, the Puneet Singh (aka The blackmailer), Amanpreet Singh aka Sapeera, Shrabhi or Chacha Khadus ……etc . Since there were so many legends under one roof, that’s why section B always remained section of Bastards; Section of many fathers.

Raina was self acclaimed Heart Throb (Army cut, dipped with Dabar Amla kesh hair oil and millions of pimples on forehead) and was again a Whiz kid, his mom was our teacher (Mrs Kamini Raina); he was usually accompanied by MSK, and both made a terrific pair; they were the Uday Chopra and Tusshar Kapoor of our section.

For Raina, every reason use to cease at his DOCTOR dad (izzat to sirf doctor ki hoti hai bhai … from Munnabhia MBBS) and for his counterpart it use to begin from his London/US settled brother; the hotel management Guru, the entrepreneur.

P.S till this date MSK narrates tons of anecdotes of hotels and other business ventures with same zeal and zest.

Another whiz kid was the DILBAUGH SINGH son of Mrs Teerthi kaur. He was bloke who could make blow your mind with his witty one liners; and he can construct them at his will. DS had an inborn talent with which he can turn outdated slangs to be the most enjoyable one; but all his reputation got bane after the infamous football match which he played against GIANT SAMIR’S SECTION. Dilbaugh I still miss your one liners aka gaffe (red in punjabi).

The Love Triangle

This Bermuda paradox begins from Rehari chungi where Ms Reen use to stay and her door next neighbor was cute, vivacious, athletic, curly haired girl (Kaangana Ranaut, student of B section). Ms Reen always considered her as a close ally and wanted her to be her Daughter-in-law, but her half headed son (Sir John/Teera) was in love with some squinted babe (Bipasha Basu) of Section A. I guess it was the squint which attracted teera to go for his girl. On the personal front Kangana was anytime better than Bipasha (Sorry Abhineet, no hard feeling dude) but it’s indeed a taste.

Love was in the air and so was the environment, before I could tweet some more grapevine I would like to pen down my favorite line from the movie Departed “I don’t want to be the Product of the environment; I want environment to be a product of mine”. All in all I can say that I would have an unaccountable number of infatuations which seldom turned out to be kind of close friendship and finally ended as annihilation. It ranged from my geography teachers (Sonu) to the chemistry faculty (Ajit kaur) to the Lab Assistants (chemistry lab Assistant ) and of course babes of GHPS. Having said that, most of the beauties are married and have kids and they will defiantly call me Uncle.

P.S I think school days attraction is the most quintessential form of infatuation and can never be experienced afterwards.

Of late the concept of valentine day got introduced and every dumb ass tried his pot luck with it. Swami Sharukh BaBa, in DTPH (Dil To Pagal Hai) made the revelation that a girl can’t say NO on this particular day, irrespective of how ugly you look and the real time application was the PROPOSAL made by JUGNU to the Liliput girl (liliput version of Ashwariya Rai); and later they went to Hari and watched Ajnabee.

P.S many lovebirds made their debut with Ajnabee and extended with Jism; thanks to Bipasha.

The Hema Effect

Hema Sharam, the English Lecturer, if someone google’s her name, the result will be the syphilis kind of virus which she spread during her tenure and next will the GURSHISH KAUR as her reference link. She adopted her tone and mannerism to such an extent that even after this Virus evacuate GHPS her shades were there with gurshish & co.(she will kill me if at all she will get the opportunity).The truth is that Hema vandalized the conscious of her students and fabricated them as her followers (kind of Ram dev Baba) and finally turned them as so called CHAMCHAS.

P.S syphilis is used in the context of contagious virus; please don’t find its literal meaning as there were no orgies and Hema was wasn’t bisexual.

I think I wrote a lot, sane insane ….. I have no idea. Well in my next post I will upload some of the pics of GHPS

P.S it was rabbit who made me realized that how important is for anyone to have his own identity, one can’t survive much in the shades of his parents.

P.S.S Sonu and Ajith were the ones who made snoring stuff as the most interesting one and this is when I was dawn with the wisdom that in order to love your subject u need to first take interest in ur teacher or till u never appreciate your teacher u can never find subject interesting.

P.S.S.S my serious apology to all those who got hurt and esp. RDS, dude no hard feelings.

P.S.S.S.S politics is the execution of human physic to please the egocentric motives and earn some sadistic pleasure. Whether it was politics among children or it was at teacher’s level; excellence was reckoned on the basis rivalry, the better u were in politics more u got the dividends in terms of professional excellence. In short everything is relative; I guess that’s what Einstein said.

To be continued

Friday, March 12, 2010

Plight of Being Indian

Its not that i am North Indian; its because i am Indian

It’s commonly misunderstood that north Indians have to suffer in Mumbai or Chennai for their mannerism which sometimes is referred as cultural conflicts; this statement is as true as Indians are only greeted in Australia.

My journey commences from the crown of India, where one set of Indians (Natives of Kashmir) were dethroned by another set of Indians; fortunately or unfortunately I wasn’t among them although I witnessed that humiliation and love lost between two set of ideologies. Before readers will adjudge my religion, I assert that I am a Brahmin; just to make it clear that even Hindus are treated badly, so next time don’t credit any insult for being a minority or OBC; however I believe that the degree of insult and humiliation varies but still, I believe that one should not alibi his/her name by saying My Name is Khan!

I don’t think that every time I was at the receiving end but I can say that the racism and discrimination happened because neither do I belong to Sikh community nor did I have my roots in the Rajput clan. Although I thought that we all were humans, precisely Indians or derivatives of same religion but every time I was proved wrong. However, I can’t deny that I had Sikhs and Rajputs as my coterie.

From there I carried my journey for Punjab; during that, I found all the sign boards were in Gurmukhi script, completely a remote cousin of Devnagri. People were nice but the place had its own hidden protocols. The memories of Massacre that happened at Amritsar were still vivid and practically I could sense that since I was a Hindu, whatever happened can never be forgotten and hence someone has to pay the price; but with all due respect to all those who were sacrificed in the 1984’s Bloodshed; Sir, “I am a Hindu and I am not the one who did operation blue star”.

My next halt was at Delhi, an all together different experience. Although I don’t think it had any religious issues, however it had something else; Regional issues. If one has to survive then he has to adopt a typical Delhi attitude, sometimes referred as the North Indian Attitude and learn their slangs, irrespective of his will. It’s almost the same as inheriting a new set of mannerisms, following a new schedule and the most important; one has to read between the lines; sometimes small discussion can end up as a Homicide felony.

Later I went to UP, someone stared at me as if I was from Pakistan and then somebody spat near my foot. I looked at him and he was the Auto driver. Unfortunately, I indulged in some discussion which later turned into an undesired debate, my dialect was different and they decided that I was mudblood. Being fluent in Hindi is not sufficient to please the UP locals, so it all ended up in me saying sorry since my foot was at the wrong place and it interrupted the trajectory of the SPIT.

Then I entered Maharashtra, precisely Mumbai. It was not that rosy, I had to learn the mannerisms of local trains, but thanks to Delhi I was already well versed in learning new mannerisms and honestly being a Mumbaikar was far easier than being a Delhi wala. Later I attempted learning Marathi which was easier than learning Gurmikhi.

It’s always better to respect the locals and the local language, especially when you are a part of the migrated clan, which I learnt from my prior experiences of UP. Regarding the biasing part, I think the level of humiliation faced by native Kashmiris will always be much more mammoth than what the rest of the India can evince.

I don’t have any interest in writing about Chennai and Bangalore episodes because if N Indian has to suffer in northern India then what else he can expect from the rest of India. Whatever I went through had nothing to do me being a north Indian, the same could have happened had I belonged to southern, eastern or western India; it has to happen because our nationality is Indian.

P.S: Here the objective was to publicly scrutinise the issue of racial discrimination that happens across country.

Thursday, January 7, 2010

DoomsDay

It was almost two years, I could find this as an occasion or probably another chance that made me able to visit this place once again, it was a real tight schedule and my routine was not at all better than any monologue; it was a 15 day stay at Jammu.

It’s still same as it was two years back or probably six. In the recent times, my visits have been curtailed, frequency has been limited, but who cares, lesser the duration better is the kick.

October, November and December; three painful months, marriages everywhere ,well it seems everyone is so damn committed of committing the same mistakes; kind of seasonal flue which comes every Oct, Nov and Dec; roads blocked and traffic Jams; and if it is your near and dear one then, check out some intestinal drug, maftol fort …etc…….. same venue and same menu, same people and same monologue; when are u getting married?

Fuck you!!! For such morons life ends at marriage and my trip begins with marriage, same kashmiri wazwan for next 15 days, Wooh-ah can u beat that. Kashmiri’s categorizes food in two categories, Yellow and red; which further classifies carnivorous as milder or spicy ones.

Its starts with fish and chicken cutlets, come on you can switch to sausages, at least they smell different…. which are supposedly starters but nobody over there treats them with that respect, which is further followed by oily Kabarga, delicious Rista and yummy yakhni , which are the milder ones and the spicy red Roganjosh, soft soft Mas and somewhat fried rosted chicken, that's what they intent; are the Red ones, going for yellow shows your lesser appetite for red ones, which simply means that you are definitely not the chosen one and if you don’t taste Kabarga and rista then it’s a complete lackluster performance; bloody hypocrites.

The middle solution is that your plate should be the amalgamation of Red and yellow, else you will be disowned by the reputed Kash-miri samaj, take my shit. Kashrimi’s understand only one thing, power of appetite; aunties, grannies and grandpa, all believe in eating and they will eat till their last breath, in fact they can hold their last breath so that they can have some more Rista’s and Mas.

Kashmiri’s are graded on the scale of ten and the qualifying criteria is; appetite for RED. Rista’s usually of 3 cm of radius have lesser spices and is deep fried in ground nut oil, preferably trademark "P Marka Oil"; which you can easily have three or four.... as per der believe; where as Mas, it’s like kabab’s but has no tomato and onions, and are 5 cm long, of course the ideal ones, one can accommodate 3-4.

Grading is relative, it depends upon how much you eat, only few people are bestowed with the skill of accommodating 2 Mas at a time or multiple ristas, again it’s not quantity its quality, one who chooses the best will be ranked number one.

Kashmiri’s have a unique way of calculating their appetite, first two pieces are never considered .... (its something close to checking out the spices.. u know how it tastes .....) in the total count and If at all count increases 4, then they stop counting and yet they give tantrum’s food was not good or I couldn’t eat much, have high B P... just tasted the species... it was finish before i ...... and the best part is that I am one of them.

Kashmiri’s believe in homemade remedies, radish which is supposed to be an difficult to digest eatable; is considered as an emulator to digest this hard core Non Veg preparations when crushed with curd and salt, with Green chilly as toppings; bingo; what a Wis-Dom....must say this should get nominated for Nobel peace prize and if above recipe fails, which will fail because nothings can make PEACE in ur tummy after having such a meal..... and perhaps next day will be your’s Doomsday.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

My Retrospect

My Retrospect

The first time I saw him; believe me I was in awe. The very first thought that occurred to my mind was “Is he a real or a fictional character”.

Average heighted, approximately of my height, but he had plump bums and had busts too; trust me he had those. He was one of those whom I consider to be the most ill stylish. His hair had a unique trait; it was not because of the style which he had, but it was due to his reasoning. He was a perfect geek or better word, a nerd and an add-on of zero dressing sense and yet he was damn confident when it comes about girls. He thought he was Casanova, and the only wish I had that he never asked me for my feedback. I never thought, neither I dreamed that I will be in touch with him, that too almost after a decade. With a limited coterie, he is one of them; and he remains very special and very dear to me.

This guy had an amazing charisma; people usually claim that if one can conjure, then he can procure your mind space, which means a lot, and this is always considered in terms of positive trait (being benign); however I had a different opinion, you need not to be an epitome of morality of altruism, all u need to know is one basic rule, how to get attention; no matter you irk your associates. A person who is coercing in nature can procure our mind space, and yet he will be called as charismatic fellow.In the beginning I was quite apprehensive towards our friendship, for me he was an alien, he use to talk about books (Irido, Rudiments of physics, H C Verma and his favorite Resnick Halliday), some educational magazine (Brilliant Tutorials…..etc); he had an unique obsession, he uses to go ga ga for any educational research stuff, as if it was done by him; his prime objective was to argue and make people eulogize his credentials.

On the contrary, i was a kind of bloke who was more into philandering activities, even I read magazines, but they were more pictorial oriented. I only believed in acquiring specific knowledge, knowledge of real time experiences. Still I believe that I always hated to hate what I really hated about that guy.

For those two years, probably slightly more than that, he shocked me with his gratuitous actions, which actually turned into a disaster. I think he was probably a very simple guy and it was me who made him complicated; this could be because of my non acquaintance with mediocre human beings, as of now I can’t frame any better excuse so let it be.Actually we were never of the greatest buddies, and when it was regarding close associates, we had different realm. Sometimes life actually plays around, we became good friends when we were done with our higher secondary education (XI & XII), that’s astonishing but it is a fact.

I learnt what I call my real time lessons from such a guy who considered himself as a case study and he actually explored human traits by experimenting with his life; I can’t call him as an imbecile specimen, neither a genius, he was a fucking moron. He took that risk and he bet his dick for that, he could have lost his testicles or would have been perished but he survived and that too proudly.People becomes engineer or doctors, some take advance courses and then they do some fucking research, we call them hero’s; people claim them wonders and sometimes associate them with a tag, GENIEUS; but what about those who actually master their life and makes it to succumb. I don’t have any word to define them, or more precisely no one should try that, this could be the probable reason that I am his friend, as of now it suits the most.

P.S This article is an exaggeration of human characters. I was never the way I have portrayed myself and more over he was not exactly the way I put him, he was worse than that (kidding). All the time I tried to criticize my own beliefs. It was more like writing about what I wanted to become.

P.S.S We make our choices for making friends on the basis of semblance, we discard people when we can’t become like them; most of the time we hate someone because we can’t accept someone who lives life the way he wants to and doesn’t pretends and seldom we accept our baseless hatred.

P.S.S.S After so many years, I realized, that for no reasons he disliked me or vice versa; but now I can see what I was not able to foresee when I was with him, that those were the trifle issues and we overlook the other major issues.