26/2/2010

Alarm goes off at 6. Vaguely recollect a dreadful dream about missing a deadline. Deadline was of fantasy football understandably, no other deadlines have been dealt with independently the past 4 years. Fall into an illusion, for about 20 mins, of being asleep with the snooze shattering it every 5 mins. Cussing ain’t the way to begin a brand new day filled with whole lot of opportunities, but who am I kidding? Everyday’s the goddamn same. Give a friend a ring and let it ring until he acknowledges. Spirits heighten knowing there is a fellow sufferer. Put a brush in the mouth and step out the door.

Put on the shoes, let the cobwebs be, remember forgetting to get them socks washed. Go to friend’s room, ask him why he isn’t up? ‘Watching porn late into the night, can’t make it’. Don’t coerce him, he was okay with an almost similar late night football excuse yesterday. Drag myself to the basketball court, no one’s there yet. Stand there waiting for a good 15 mins. Avoid eye-contact with passersby. Run across the court 10 times, curse the parched throat. Should have drank some water. Fail at hopping miserably, do some crunches, believe in ‘pain is good’. Call it a day. Count, up to 5.

Have breakfast, gaze at the oily hand, take bath, grab a book, go to class. No competition for attention between crazy Yossarian and intellectual drivel. Obediently avoid looking at the lecturer. Power cut and no generator back up. Very pleasing. Agree to scream ‘shit’ when the power comes back on, not when it goes. Attempt to illuminate the room by smiling. No such luck. Give attendance. Leave.

Go to room, sleep with alarm set for 13:15.  Do an encore with the snooze. 13:50, class at 1400, haven’t skipped a single class yet, let’s do that, go for lunch. Come back, update the fantasy teams, Villa and United not in action. Browse some more, come across Arshavin’s website, chuckle my ass off, tweet about it. Browse again, cancel the meals, 3 day vacation coming up, discover being granted a credit for movie appreciation. No need to go to PT again but guess I will.

Call dad, ask him to pick me up while going home. (Pack my bags, stuff back all those apples and oranges. Brave mom’s chagrin.) Tolerate him making fun of the Proteas. Reach home, switch on TV, do nothing. Ask mom for hard-disk ‘No, delete stuff from the old’. Ask dad for hard-disk ‘Wait till next month’s payday’. Tell him I can live with that.

Me and (my nemesis) Math

I hate math, yet I continue to dawdle in it by my own volition. Well, at least I make the initial choice which then compels me and leaves me with no other option but to do it, even though every part of me screams in horror and shrinks at its sight. For example, consider this latest sem:

I opted for a math course just because the majority felt it was the best bet. Since every dick wanted a slice of it, they had to step in and set some limits. Consequently, I found myself outside the zone and with a little bit of thought, I should have been like “it was all for the best”. However, I got agitated since there was no place for me in the barn and every other sheep I knew had gotten in.

Desperate times warrant desperate measures and a lengthy letter bemoaning my “misfortune” I dashed off to the Dean. Prompt was the action and a place in the barn the conclusion. Happy chap I was and gloated the reaps of perseverance I did.

(what is so special about this barn? The shepherd in charge never does a head count)

The seas were calm and the ship sailed smoothly until the first storm came about. The men, lax till then, admirably worked diligently and fought off the storm but I sat there brooding why I had come along for the journey. The men, content with their action, joyously returned to their nonchalant ways but…. can I after all that inaction?

Here’s a simple comparison of my grades between math and non-math courses:

Sanskrit: B, quite boring and unremarkable.

English Literature: A very satisfying A-, the classes under Mr.Marathe were by far my most enjoyable and most rewarding. Even my short story received kind remarks. I would have experienced none of it had there not been 2 add/drops. One would think that I would jump at the opportunity to do such courses, but the inexplicable dread of interactions drives me instinctively to the drab arms of math, more often than I would like.

Gandhi and India: A- (a mail was sent showing the cumulative scores and I was 3rd in the (quite distinguished) class of 60. Usually in courses involving math, I find myself third from bottom in a (completely undistinguished) class of 40)

Introduction to Biology: A. These two courses relied to an extent on presentations and even though I’m not a big fan, I bit the bullet and it worked wonders.

Linear Algebra: C, Probability: C-, Maths I: C, Maths II: C

Critical Economic Theory: C-. Not the typical math, but math nonetheless…. You get the picture by now.

All this suggests that I should have been elated on being alloted Environmental Planning instead of Linear Programming…. but NO, I had to ruin it all just because the shepherd didn’t count his sheep in one of them.

p.s: Regrets may be bad for the mental state, they are certainly good for blogging.

Facebook Share Etiquette

You log in, you see a video posted by a friend, you play it, you get excited by it, sharing it with your group of friends becomes an absolute must, you think about the protocol to be followed.

Simply re-sharing it and stealing the spotlight from the friend who originally shared it will be rude. So in addition to ‘liking’ it, you also leave a comment (When new to the game, you also tend to wait for a while). With the legal rights now thus bought, you unabashedly share it.

The moment the red notification pops up, you get anxious and tend to it. Good response to that shared, you feel proud as though as you created the video. Lukewarm, you think your friends have a different (and therefore inferior) taste and shrug it off. In case the guy who shared it after you gets more response, you feel downcast.

My favorite movies of 2009

The list is surprisingly unremarkable as I relied on lists compiled by others. The gems forgotten by the masses have been forgotten here too.

Funny People: Judd Apatow, a slim Seth Rogen, a fat Jonah Hill and a brooding Adam Sandler.

Moon: Sam Rockwell’s loneliness, despair and Clint Mansell’s score.

Star Trek: Sci-fi Entertainment

(500) Days of Summer: The customary indie hit of the season. Following in the footsteps of Little Miss Sunshine, Juno.

Drag Me To Hell: Sam Raimi’s laughter riot.

Watchmen: Read the comic if you want to appreciate it.

Coraline: Awesome visual design

The Hurt Locker: Too intense, one might complain.

Honorable mentions: Werner Hezrog’s/Nic Cage’s Bad lieutenant, Tarantino’s Inglourious Basterds, Paranormal Activity, The Hangover.

(The movies mentioned aren’t in any particular order)

The ones that might have made it had I seen them:- Matt Damon’s The Informant!, Fantastic Mr.Fox, Up In The Air, Coen brothers’ A Serious Man

District 9 was okay, not “legendary sci-fi”. Up was a big let down, the clips (not included in the movie) were more fun. Avatar’s tacky dialogue and flimsy storyline cannot be made up by graphics and all that jazz.

The Crusader

My city… is my best friend. My city… is my constant companion. My city… is what keeps me alive. My city… is where I’m going to die.

My city gave me everything, except for one thing and that too, she says, is to keep me from getting hurt. My city grew with me (during my school days) and stagnated with me (during college). My city enrolled me into a college I don’t fancy, and hasn’t opened up to Hollywood, but I love every inch of my city. Even when I sleep, all that I dream of is my splendid city basking in the northern lights under the new moon.

My city was shaken up today. She screamed for help. I couldn’t deny. I jumped some roofs and kicked more ass and rescued her. The filthy enemy couldn’t figure out who hit him as I was wearing a mask which covered my most distinguishable feature (the nose). He knew the only thing I held dear was my city and he had to come up with some other way to get at me and that… was exactly what he did. He blocked all entertainment channels and robbed me of my football viewing pleasures. (One must admit the methodology’s quite an ingenious way of hitting back at masked superheroes who like their Tv, and their identities hidden)

No one can ever walk away after screwing with both my city and my cable. “I’m coming after you, you rotten scumbag. Here’s a generous tip->  Whatever you do, don’t try to hide. If you hide, my city will spit you out right in front of me and I will spit right on your face before clubbing you in the crotch”.

p.s: Do not get inspired by the trailer and watch that movie.

Junctions and Decisions

Have you come across any movie protagonist saying he’s an electrical engineer?

In the days leading up to my casual check of the ‘ECE in IIIT-H’ box, I was spoilt for choice. I was in a position similar to that of any other student who does not so well in the JEE but does well in the rest. Staring back at me were a dual degree in Civil Engineering over at IIT-Madras, and a couple of ‘choose a course of your choice coupons’ valid at BITS Pilani and IIIT-H.

Looking at the general trend of admissions, it may be safe to say that I opted for the one least in the pecking order. However, the academic fallacies of a decision taken some 3&1/2 years ago ain’t an issue to muse upon. The question to be asked is, had I had the exposure (to movies and stuff) that I have today back then, would I have come the same way? (why this question? There wouldn’t be a post to write otherwise, duh)

Architects. They are everywhere. Many movie, TV, literary characters nonchalantly proclaim to be architects, and by God, doesn’t that sound cool. Electrical engineer, meanwhile, sounds like meh. A simple happening like reading ‘The Fountainhead’ before the D-day would have sufficed to have me lured into the world of buildings and dams.

Speaking of buildings, this tenant of mine called ‘Indecision’ isn’t someone who has moved in recently.

Setting- Post 10th standard

Scenario- I hate Maths, and Biology ain’t my strong suit either as I can’t draw for sh*t. History’s my favorite subject but India has no need for that.

I lean a bit towards medicine. They say, you will get stuck forever once you go down that road. Engineering, they said, has many exit routes and isn’t as tedious a path too. All right!, I say, easy life is what I am in pursuit after all.

What if I had seen Scrubs and a couple of other things prior?

Of course, things aren’t as they are portrayed on the screen but I like to think I have learnt more from TV and Movies than from school and college

In a few months time, I’m going to come across another junction. The only thing I’m sure about that is I won’t be going straight. I’m going to take a left or a right, for good or for worse. Most importantly, I don’t intend to hurry even if the green traffic light beckons

Boring…..

Came across an article which said, “…..there’s also something similar in the experience of being a fan of the two shows(Friends and HIMYM)—namely, a suspicion that it might be cooler not to be a fan. There’s no shame in admitting that you spent a night watching Seinfeld reruns—Ooh, which ones? goes the response. With Friends, a certain sheepishness attaches. What did you do last night?Um, caught this great episode of Friends on TBS, where Ross and Rachel … Never mind……”

I knew it. Always have been a bigger fan of Seinfeld. Like for any other Indian, Friends was my first TV show from across the seas and like any other Indian, it was indeed my favorite…but only until there were other TV shows. Once these others came in, I’ve always struggled to sit through an episode of Friends especially when Chandler’s not involved. (Joey is just an idiot, Fez is a better idiot at that too)

So do I only watch shows which are in no danger of being branded as ‘not cool’? Not true, I shamelessly admit Scrubs is my favorite TV show. For starters, it’s not nearly as funny as an average sit-com but if funny was all it took to be the best, then two and a half men (god forbid) would rule the roost.

Jennifer Aniston-> Her presence in a movie is enough to brand it as a touchy-feely rom-com totally uncool. Brand ambassador for tissues she is. To leave her for Jolie was Brad Pitt’s second best decision ever (First was teaming up with David Fincher).

Who needs characters like Rachel when there are bi-sexual 13′s going around? How cool is Dr. House, huh? He makes even a bi-sexual Ms. Wilde appear second-best on his show. Dr. House even makes the bald guys like Taub like-able. Don’t you dare cross Dr. House, he can even make Kutner redundant.

Entourage has stopped moving these days. They just laze around while Turtle goes to college. Heroes and Lost? Really??

The Daily Show with Jon Stewart is what you should be watching actually.

Before I forget, my friend Animesh says guys pretend to like ‘Friends’ only for the sake of speaking to girls who, according to him, talk sleep and puke (or whatever) ‘Friends’.

I wanted to write but then I did a raincheck and then this happened

Sleeping on an idea is a bad idea. The idea ceases to be interesting in the morning and you end up like this.

CAT and what not

The CAT notification (or something of that sort) is out. What does that mean? Are you filled with regret at not having done much thus far, or filled with excitement as there is nothing more but to flaunt your proficiency. Does this mean that it’s too late to start reading a newspaper and too late to start trying out the exercises in a diligently scrupulous manner. Hmm I don’t know, time is but an illusion which bends according to our will

Incidentally, the end-sems are scheduled from 30th Nov to 9th Dec and the  CAT is from 28th Nov to 7th Dec. Since, most probably, we’ll have a say in neither, what if the slots clash? Won’t that scenario be a cruel SOB. Watching helplessly as luck “plays havoc” with your “long-term” plans might turn out to be fun, who knows. I’m not saying that I want it but I will not be bitching around if at all, I’ll just have a smile on my face if the card plays out that way. (Competitive Exams are held on a Sunday for such reasons, duh IIM professors)

Let’s say they do clash. What happens then? Worst case scenario you will laze around the house for an year. You can always use that year to get in some sort of a physical shape, learn to drive a car, learn a foreign language and whatever. One can, of course, do a fake job and get a fake one year experience advantage over the freshers.

*This class is really ruining my time. All he does, is rattle out some phrases and read out answers from a key in a dramatic manner. Maybe, all he is, is a professional actor hired to do a job of a teacher. OMFG, tell me he didn’t just crack that joke. “Break down means to cry, but when we say the car broke down, it doesn’t mean the car started crying”. The agony continues: “Did you know that Tom’s full name is Thomas. Who knows, someone might give it as a question”.

I don’t know why I even bother to attend these Grammar classes. Grammar has, unexpectedly, turned out to be my strongest suit in the verbal section, actually. Am I attending these classes solely to gain a glimpse of the bright light who occasionally deals with grammar?  Have a feeling an answer will come to this from the comments section

The class doesn’t even seem to have heard the phrase “pull over the car” . They must be unaware of Hollywood and also of a creation called TV.

Joke of the day (not the exact dialogue sadly):-

Dr. House: As I’m not a cat, I don’t think being curious is a bad thing.

Wilson: Are you sure that saying was designed as a warning to cats.

Bright Lights and Revelations

The world lays impatiently in the dark pining for a day when a light will finally shine upon it. The darkness has overstayed even against the most conservative principles. Still, the world doesn’t actively seek a remedy, it just lays dormant in hope.

The previously serene inhabitants are now becoming desperate by day and sleepless by night. But who can blame them? All they want is light and the world they inhabit is quite favorable and endowed bountiful to bask in beautiful bright lights.

Their world lies, a tad unfortunately, along the southern horizon. That geographical handicap though doesn’t come in the way of regularly coming across the northern lights, which never fail to gracefully shine brighter and penetrate deeper but alas! to get rid of the shadows never.

The morally astute point out that it’s the filament that matters, not the brightness. They say the brightness fades but the filament remains. “Sorry mister!, you can have the dim lights and their pure filaments. Just give me the bright ones.”

The southern lights, i.e lights indigenous to the southern horizon, are usually the eclipsed versions of the northern lights and even on a cloudy damp day the disparity in the luminosity is quite lucid.

There are, of course, a few southern lights as bright as the brightest northern lights but they are so few that, most of the time, they are inadvertently mistaken for northern and thus, in the world’s mind, the northern lights are the (only) lights to have.

Maybe the name Arctic Monkey does have a significance after all.

p.s:- The title is indeed a play on “Black Holes and Revelations”.

Song of the Day:- Knights of Cydonia – Muse.

A foreign light, believed to exist in a place far far away