A FINE VALENTINE

It’s Valentines Day. Yes, we know that it’s a shite idea but here’s a post which talks of a guy’s perspective and perception of the idea.

Assembled, assorted and assumed. Don’t expect something brilliant.


SCENE I:

Vincent comes to meet Patrick and Terence with a wide grin. The grin gives away one particular pubic hair between his teeth. Knowing Vincent, he could have placed it on purpose to attract weird attention but like always, ignorance was a virtue.

Terence – Yo mofo, heard you just banged somebody.
Vincent – Oh yes. After a long time.
Patrick – Tell me also.
Vincent – Well, both of us wanted it. Wild and wicked.
Terence – What’s her name?
Vincent – Err. I don’t know man.
Terence – Tsk tsk, you are a rotten man.
Vincent – Look who’s talking!
Patrick – Ha ha. LMAO!
Vincent – Look who’s laughing.
Patrick – Hain?
Vincent – Don’t ‘hain’ me. You are not milk washed.
Patrick – Okay okay.
Terence – So, you plan to meet her again?
Vincent – No man, she said something which pissed me.
Patrick – What? Tell us also.
Vincent – Well, she suddenly got up and left.
Terence – But why?
Patrick – You must have done something stupid.
Vincent – I did not. I am a gentleman.
Terence – Did she say why she was leaving?
Vincent – She just told me one thing before storming out.
Terence – What did she say?
Patrick – Tell me also.
Vincent – ‘My ears are not handles’.


SCENE II:

A very very lazy afternoon at DSE when a women’s magazine interrupted a normal free flowing ‘abuse filled’ conversation. The magazine was called ‘Cosmina Ellgue’ which was the supposed merger between ‘Cosmopolitan’, ‘Femina’, ‘Elle’ and ‘Vogue’.
Anyway, the details aren’t necessary; unlike the power of perception. We didn’t care about the merger or the magazine but the journalist insisted and we somehow agreed to take part in the survey.


Journalist - Make love to a random woman only after you've both shared:

Subhojit - Expectations from a sexual relationship.
Baharul - Our blood-test results.
Terence - No blackmail vows.
Patrick – Time and maturity.
Vincent - Five tequila slammers.

Journalist – Foreplay is to sex as:

Baharul – A trailer is to a movie.
Patrick – A queue is to an amusement park ride.
Terence – Seeing is to reading.
Vincent – Breakfast is to dinner.

Journalist – You think today’s sensitive, caring man is:

Kotoky – Available.
Patrick – Gay.
Baharul – An oxymoron.
Terence – A moron.
Vincent – A myth (like the Bazooka).

Journalist – In the company of feminists, intercourse should be referred to:

Patrick – Making love.
Baharul – Sax.
Subhojit – Screwing.
Terence – Sex.
Vincent – The pigskin bus into tuna town.

Journalist - Passionate, spontaneous sex on the kitchen floor is:

Baharul – A dream.
Kotoky – Bloody (broken glasses all over)
Patrick - Something my girlfriend need never find out about.
Terence – A way of life.
Vincent – Been there, done that (Yawn!).

Journalist - Spending the whole night cuddling a woman you've just had sex with is:

Patrick – The best part of the experience.
Baharul – A dream, sigh.
Terence – The second best thing.
Vincent – 100 bucks extra.

Journalist - What are you most likely to say at the end of a relationship?

Patrick – Sorry, better luck next time.
Baharul – We will always be good friends.
Terence – Welcome to Dumpsville. Population: YOU.
Vincent – Can we keep the sex?

Journalist - A woman who is uncomfortable watching you masturbate:

Abhishek – I don’t give a fuck.
Baharul – Hee hee, what silly questions? Uffo!
Subhojit – Is uptight and waste of time.
Hitesh – What’s your point?
Vincent – Shouldn’t have sat next to me in the bus.


SCENE III:

Anurag Kotoky, Baharul Islam and Subhojit Sanyal party one day. All of them get super drunk and wasted. They talk about things ranging from literature to history, music to sports, future to skiing. Then they fall asleep and share a bed, like usual.

Baharul wakes up next morning with a question on his face. He looks around and notices Kotoky sleeping happily between the three and Subhojit snoring next to Kotoky. He, then, holds a very inquisitive expression. The other two wake up slowly.

Baharul – Man, this is weird.
Subhojit – We shared a bed, big deal.
Baharul – Not that.
Kotoky – Then what?
Baharul – I had this vivid dream of getting a handjob.
Subhojit – What the fuck! I had the same dream.
Baharul – Kotoky, what did you dream about?
Kotoky – That’s funny.
Subhojit – Why?
Kotoky – I dreamt I was skiing.



Happy Valentines to all the ‘idiotic’ hopeless romantics.
Spread love, not AIDS.



Note – Some of the content is derived from external factors (The Internet). The artist is not to be blamed.

CONSTIPATED SUPERHEROES

There’s a huge ordeal about the existence of 'Superheroes'. Some people claim they exist, some say it’s a mind game and some say things which shouldn’t be said here. This world may or may not need a 'Superhero' but what it actually needs is an environment free from external and internal problem creating agencies. There was a time when the world was perfect and that was before some dumb paracetomol eating douche-bag opened the pandora’s box. Thereafter, we were bestowed with greed, ego, envy, jealousy, hatred and so on (read: Greek mythology).

All right. It was fun while it lasted. Don’t use brains from next time. Anyway, the society that exists has space for a ‘Season Latest’ in Vogue but no-where is a slot for 'Superheroes'. But then, Vogue wouldn’t feature ‘Superheroes’ unless there was a change in the 'Superhero' costumes. Fashion to heroics, see the similies.

Every word mentioned above in the two paragraphs is what today’s 'Superheroes' think about. Yes, you are right. We have three 'Superheroes' amongst us. Vincent, Patrick and Terence might just look, talk and walk like any normal ‘random’ guy but the perception goes deep, maybe deeper and who knows, maybe deepest.

A motivation, such as a sense of responsibility (Spiderman), a personal vendetta against criminals (Batman) or a strong belief in justice and humanitarian service (Superman).

While it would be awe-fucking-some to become a 'Superhero' and save the world. Think of all the difficulties the three would undergo.

Vincent would take red underwears too seriously which he usually does. Anwyay, Superman sucked. Really, it was like 'Good morning Kryptonite' (whatever the effing spelling) and 'Goodnight Superman'. Patrick would gone a little mental jumping from one building to another, apparantly he jumps only to feel the balls touch each other. Terence would go absolutely ballistic if he was ever gifted with something like a laser X-ray fucking vision. Leave the world, he would not be able to save himself. This goes on, Vincent would be able to fly but that would be of no significance because a strong gush of breeze can make him fly anyway. Patrick and Terence would rather save and preserve their own arse instead of saving the worlds’.

When somebody would plead, “Come on, you have to save the world?”. The instant inner answer to throttle would be ‘depends’.

So, 'Superheroes' is not really a valid idea and is quite shite. True, the three have been chosen and cannot fondle with destiny but if they have lazy asses then the world will have to wait.

And believe it, patience is a virtue.

POWER DYNAMICS

“Most of what we learn in the first five years of elementary school will be valid all our life.
Most of what we learn in the first few years of a college degree won’t be”


A man should NEVER underestimate the thinking speed of a woman. Terence and Vincent don’t think so because of the fact that they have a ‘done it’ chart where they place all records and events. Patrick didn’t think so until he was taught a sweet lesson.

One normal winter morning, when we were ‘not’ waiting for our professor to turn up, we were engaged in a nice conversation. College represents a different charm during winters. It’s when the complexion of the fairer sex seems better as if they applied ‘foundation’ in every aspect. The warm heavy jackets, fur coats, pashmina stoles would reveal skin but don’t all ‘the’ boys like to live in a city called ‘Voluptuocity’.

Terence – Winters. Wow.
Vincent – Women. Wow.
Terence – Winter women. Wow.
Baharul – Yesterday, I was listening to Bow Wow.
Vincent – I’d rather choose Bappi Lahiri.
Baharul – Don’t ridicule Subhojit. He’s my friend.
Terence – Does he swing the other way?
Vincent – Only with Hitesh.
Baharul – Ha ha, they still play on swings!
Terence to Vincent – Nevermind.

Meanwhile, there was another conversation going on.

Monica – Get lost, Patrick.
Samantha – If only someone paid you for talking absolute garbage.
Patrick – Then what would happen?
Samantha – Then you would have been a billionaire.
Patrick – I see.
Baharul – ‘I see you’ is about to release.
Monica – Gawd. You are so off topic.
Patrick – But Samantha, admit it. Men think faster.
Samantha – Balls.
Patrick – I won the debate. I won the debate. Yay.
Monica – We didn’t even start debating.
Patrick – I won the debate. I won the debate. Yay.
Samantha – Don’t go mental now.
Patrick – I won the debate. I won the debate. Yay.
Monica – You are irritating me now.
Patrick – I won the debate. I won the debate. Yay.
Samantha – You are simply scared.
Patrick – I won the debate. I won the debate. Yay.


Patrick was really loud in his excitement. Everyone heard him.

Vincent – Yo mofo, my baby won something?
Patrick – I kicked ‘feminism’ today.
Terence – Welcome to the club.
Baharul – Club? Which club?
Vincent – I’ll hit you with a club! (frustrated).
Patrick – Ignore that man. We rule.
Terence – Hey, Samantha’s written something on the board.


The board read-
PATRICK SUCKS


Patrick – Baah, no big deal. I have got it covered.
Vincent – Need help?
Patrick – Did the gladiators ever ask for help?

Patrick walked up to the board and chalked something which had him all smiling. His smile seemed as though he had just released a heavy controlled fart.


The board now read-
PATRICK SUCKS GOOD


Patrick – I won the debate. I won the debate. Yay.
Vincent –Nice.
Terence – Yeah, good thinking.
Patrick – I am the king.
Baharul – Samantha’s writing something.


The board now read-
PATRICK SUCKS HIMSELF GOOD


Samantha – High five!
Monica – Yo girl, you the woman!

Patrick – Shit. I thought I won. Shit.
Vincent – You know, gladiators often get eaten up by lions.
Terence – So, why so glum, chum?
Patrick – Shit. I thought I won. Shit.


There you go. That’s the beauty of playing with the fairer sex. They let you think that you’ve won. You will not receive the big punch till the last round. So let’s do what men should do- Love their respective women and respect their thinking.


P.S- After everyone left, Vincent and Terence edited the board.


The board now read-
PATRICK SUCKS DEEP & CALLS HIMSELF SUPER GOOD.


So. Who finally won? I suspect- MEN.

THE FIXED DETOUR

Tom Lehrer was absolutely right when he wrote this song, “Bright College Days”. The beauty behind anything is appreciated when it’s completely over and that’s how, I guess, we feel right now. Or maybe not. Maybe we are no one to talk about beauty. Maybe we are only justified to be the beasts. Wait, maybe I suck at being funny. Maybe ‘maybe’ is my favourite word.

Anyway, just like other kids, college days for us meant the experience of ups and downs in bizarre mannerisms. The three years of relationships, rivalries, accusations, laugh riots, one night stands (platonic), soggy eyes, bust lusts and the unfortunate studies made us pretty much a part of the world that believed that life ended after college.

And while the world went crazy, there was a place for us. A place which did not let us foot bills or run silly domestic errands. A place which welcomed us with open arms (rather- open gates). DSE was our Miami in winters and Vienna in summers. In short, it was all that we ever wanted or needed.

DSE is five minutes from our college. We learnt almost everything without ever gaining any knowledge. You know what I mean. Good.

Every little thing we did had a DSE injection.

SPRING BREAK

“A long recess from the confines of the rigid college life. Activities include, but are not limited to: dancing on tables, getting laid, getting super stoned and/or dead drunk, partying, dancing, heavy drinking, pot smoking, having sex, tanning on various beaches and generally passing out. These are often done with large groups of friends who all want to party hard and have a good time, while simultaneously erasing all memories of academia (and all-night study attempts) from their lives.
Many blackmail pictures ensue from this long trip; relationships dissolve, and grades slip another notch. Some tragic consequences can result from this dangerous but important rite of passage, including your girl/boy friend finding out you cheated them with 8 other boys/girls, your parents finding out how much of an animal you really are, throwing up, getting pregnant and getting killed.”

- Urban Dictionary.


One random Wednesday morning saw Vincent and Terence discussing about the monotony in life.

Terence – I can bet you can’t imagine how bored I am.
Vincent – I can, because I’m doubly bored.
Terence – Then I’m the triple.
Vincent – Triple X, baby.
Terence – Let’s get away somewhere.
Vincent – Subhojit’s place, this weekend.
Terence – How come?
Vincent – His folks will be out of town.
Terence – All right then. I will create the banners.
Vincent – And I’ll create boners.

Terence and Vincent inform few people since it had to be a low key affair. Later-

Vincent – Yo Subho.
Subhojit – Hey man, I’m pissed with college life.
Vincent – Then unwind and relax.
Subhojit – Yes, I’m doing that this weekend.
Vincent – Oh yes. It’ll be a fantastic party.
Subhojit – What party?
Vincent – You don’t know? Aren’t you coming?
Subhojit – Which party? Where?
Vincent – Your place.
Subhojit – Whaa... t?
Vincent – Okay, I got to go. I have to plan the event.
Subhojit – Huh.

Vincent invited Baharul and Kotoky too but they blew him off as they had prior commitments. Terence asked Patrick to join and he said he would certainly join. Hitesh was coming without a doubt, make no mistake about it. So the banner was ready and we were set to roll.

Saturday morning arrived. The day when we would celebrate our special ‘Spring Break’. We had it all planned, well almost. We had the place, we had the entertainment and we knew how much food and booze were to be bought but what we didn’t know was our budget. I mean, we didn’t know if we had a budget but that was the case every time we made some shit slick plan so we had it covered.

Terence, Vincent and Hitesh were in DSE with Benu (Read ‘Bong Song’). Flirts were thrown left, right and center. None were reciprocated and that’s when we realized we were only tillable crops. Benu hung out with us for about an hour and we played some shit game which was to recognize the movie the other person was thinking of. We admit we have a horrid stack of non-inventory games in our head. Patrick arrived after Benu had left and he said he was deeply upset.

Patrick – Guys, I don’t think I will come.
Vincent – Come on now, don’t break the emotion.
Hitesh – Yeah, what’s your point?
Patrick – My notebook’s fucked. I’m upset.
Terence – Don’t worry, we’ll sort it out.
Vincent – I’ll place my top on your lap. Okay?
Patrick – Man, if only jokes made me happy right now.
Terence – All right, don’t be too hard on yourself.
Hitesh – What’s your point?
Vincent – Pat, come na. What happened?
Patrick – (breaks down)

That was when Terence, Vincent and Hitesh were absolutely silent. They had no clue what to say. Then, out of the blue, Patrick said he’d come as it’d make him feel better and boy, I bet he never had such a fantastic weekend ever. In fact, it was the best ‘college’ weekend ever.

So, we grabbed some meat at DSE and left for the metro station. The ride till Dwarka was unbearable as it took nearly 2 hours to get there and it was especially made unbearable by Hitesh’s constant farts. Now, like the ears have ear-drums or whatever, I suppose noses have some drums too or some smelling-limit. Hitesh’s farts were beyond comprehension of the normal human nose but we also thanked him since we pimped our ride till Dwarka on an empty compartment only because of his assforts (efforts).

Upon reaching the Dwarka station, we stood there like stood up bitches since Subhojit would pick us up and the faggot was late. Vincent used this opportunity to practice his seduction moves which he claimed he’d try on the strippers. Oh yes, did I forget to mention that Terence and Vincent invited some strippers from Golf Links. More on this later.

Subhojit arrived and we made a move after gulping down some exquisite vanilla ice-cream imported from Belgium. We hit Subhojit’s crib in twenty minutes and he welcomed us with an introduction to the shag mutt- Husky, who left no stone unturned to make sure he was a part of the party.

So, we were comfortable in the house. Vincent, Terence and Hitesh shared a conversation on ‘wild women’ and ‘bed ideas’ in the front lawn with cold lager. Subhojit kept watching movies that evening and Patrick was on the internet. Our professor joined in too and he prepared a fantastic mutton dish that made us smack our fingers and lash our tongues. All this was before 9 pm and after 9 was when all the insane acts followed.

We placed ourselves around the round table directly underneath one flashing bulb which made the entire scene very mono-chromatic, almost like the World War I era. Then, we smoked up in turns which liberated every soul present.

- Subhojit refused to pay the pizza guy even though he was right on time.
- Patrick consumed excess beer which made him stand on a chair singing a Queen’s track real loud, not realizing that Subhojit’s mouth had found a way into Patrick’s boxers through his denim zippers.
- Vincent thought he suddenly grew tits, therefore was playing with them.
- Hitesh kept laughing in a sadistic tone or a tune (who cares!).
- Terence had enough vodka shots to imagine that he was a slick cobra and he made snake moves on the floor without any background music which was very distasteful.
- Patrick then realized that Subhojit was munching too much therefore he stepped down and fed Husky some beer.

That was it. We were super high on potcohol- pot and alcohol. Damn, it was grander (if there is a word) than the grandest of grands.

Couple of hours later, Subhojit called it a night but we didn’t. We took the festivities to the next floor. We took our asses to the next floor where Terence, Patrick, Vincent, Vincent and Proff barred their tops and danced for two fucking hours entirely topless. We put the strippers to shame and they stormed out of the house without any performance. But we couldn’t care less, we were enjoying to the fullest and I bet, none of us shouted louder than each other. Each track we violently danced to, was the battle of the highest decibel between us.

Then suddenly, we decided to go down (not on each other!) and wake Subhojit. We ran down the stairs and woke a very scared Subhojit who was sleeping on the couch (Yes, I know what you’re thinking and yes, he had a very large couch).

Patrick, Vincent, Terence, Vincent – WAAAAAH. BOOOO.
Subhojit – What happened? Did you break anything?
Vincent – Get up, fat ass and dance with us.
Subhojit – I can’t. I have two left legs.
Patrick – Then use your middle leg.
Subhojit – I’ll use that on you tomorrow.
Patrick – Shit.
Terence, Vincent, Patrick – WAAAAH. BOOOO.
Subhojit – But why the fuck are all of you naked?
ALL – We always believed in the freedom movement.
Subhojit – I don’t have fab abs.
Vincent – But you have fat abs.
Subhojit – I will exercise.
Vincent – Just sexercise. You’ll lose weight.
Terence, Patrick, Hitesh – WAAAH. BOOOO.

This is not speculation. This is the exact conversation that took place that night.





The next morning was a lazy morning and no one had the energy to clean the bottles that were spread across the house. Terence sat on the lazyboy chair and did not move an inch till evening. Patrick, Vincent, Subhojit and Proff sat close and we watched some movies. All this while, Hitesh was upstairs enjoying cyber-sex in the sex room. He chose porn over male-bonding. Later in the afternoon, we danced to the tune of some song from some ‘bollywood’ movie and shot a video. The best part was Vincent’s sequence when he came running down the stairs playing with his imaginary tits. That video was a killer and sadly, we don’t know where it is.

Some time later, Patrick was lying on his stomach on the floor. This was too much for Subhojit to handle and then he made a plunge on Patrick. Hitesh also joined in and so did Terence. I bet Patrick must have broken his backbone, but then every time something like this happens, it is a brokeback situation. Meanwhile, Vincent was in the sex room.

Evening was fun. We had fantastic chicken cooked in champagne for brunch, which was accompanied with the best red wine from Subhojit’s backyard. Then, all of us went online together and that’s when Vincent revealed his true identity to his ‘then’ love, Sude. He took her number and spoke to her for the first time. While they spoke of intimate things, she didn’t realize that she was on the speakerphone and we were making fart sounds to break Vincent’s momentum. Vincent was brilliant in the vocal department and took several intervals to laugh. He’d dance in an ugly posture while telling her, “Oh, I’m so worried about you. You deserve better”. Hitesh tried diverting Vincent’s attention by making violent love to the closet. At times, Vincent couldn’t hide his laughter while the person on the other end wept buckets over her issues and every time, he’d make a weird laugh sound, he’d hang up and say that the network sucked. We admit that it was a very insensitive thing to do but then, we were on our spring break.


- Proff danced on the ‘Titli’ song from ‘Meenakshi’.
- Terence took a video while Patrick was taking a piss.
- Vincent licked Hitesh’s toe.
- Patrick was almost given a blowjob by Subhojit
- Terence wriggled on the floor like a cobra.
- Vincent thought he had massive tits for two days.
- Patrick suffered from a severe hallucination effect.
- Hitesh shaked his toe vigorously while playing the mouth organ.
- Terence sat on one fucking chair for hours.
- Subhojit was red-faced when everyone stood with no clothes.


We call it the ‘Gurgaon Marathon’ but it really was our Spring Break.

Damn.

DRIFT

Here’s the deal. It is always a special deal to purchase your first car. The deal gets better if you get a good deal. However, the deal is far away from the television show- “Deal ya no deal”. This will make a pointless read because I’m a little high, that’s the deal.


Vincent – I need a car which stands out.
Manager- Sure, you are at the right place.
Vincent- I want it blood red.
Manager- Sir, red wine would be served with the purchase.
Vincent- I want two LCDs inside and also a mini fridge.
Manager- Consider it done, sir.
Vincent- Alloys from Brazil and leather from Denmark.
Manager- Certainly, it would be arranged.
Vincent- I would like the dashboard in diamonds.
Manager- Sir, what exquisite taste.
Vincent- Well manager, don’t comment on my taste.
Manager- Anything else with the fine vehicle sir?
Vincent- Yeah, the gear stick should be 9.5 inches.
Manager- I didn’t get you, sir.
Vincent- I should be accustomed to the handling.
Manager- Aha! I see your point. Done.
Vincent- You seem like an intelligent person.
Manager- Thank you. We are glad to do business with you.
Vincent- (gives an arrogant smile)
Manager- So sir, the total comes to $66,000 with tax.
Vincent- What! But I have only 50 bucks!!

That’s the beauty of imagination. However, that’s not what actually happened. Vincent did buy a fifth hand car which fell a little above his budget but he did purchase one. The saddest thing is that he received a ticket the very next day. Imagine, getting a ticket for a car one just purchases. Here’s what happened when he told us about it-

Vincent- Man, the system sucks. Really.
Monica- You suck.
Patrick- At least listen to him, doll.
Monica- Are you disagreeing with me?
Patrick- No no. Vincent sucks. Really.
Vincent- I got a ticket.
Baharul- Which movie?
Vincent- A violation ticket for my baby.
Baharul- You have a baby?
Vincent- I mean my car.
Terence- What happened? You got it two days ago, right?
Vincent- Yeah, I parked it near a park.
Baharul- That’s what parks are for, I thought.
Kotoky- So did he. Anyway, what happened?
Vincent- Cops took it away on several charges.
Terence- Did you get it back?
Vincent- What do you suspect?
Kotoky- Your hair seems fine, so you did get your car back.
Vincent- This coming from you, great.
Kotoky- Kela.
Vincent- Here’s my violation ticket.

(They review the ticket patiently)

Kotoky- No windows!!
Vincent- I need fresh air.
Terence- No backseats!!
Vincent- I need comfort only for myself.
Patrick- No fuel tank cap!
Vincent- I never spill (take it any which way you want).
Baharul- No gear gauge!!
Vincent- I’m a neutral person.
Patrick- No rear mirrors!
Vincent- I carry them in my pocket for myself.
Terence- Beat this asshole, no tyres!
Vincent- Told you, the system sucks.
Patrick- That explains shit. You have a tyre-less car!
Vincent- Why waste rubber when you can use round wood.
Kotoky- Fucker, you never use rubber.
Vincent- Why eat a chocolate with the wrapper on.
Baharul- Rubber? Chocolate? Wrapper?



“Some people drink from the fountain of knowledge, others just gargle it.”
- Someone.

PUSH AND PULL

New Year’s Eve was a learning experience. We got together to meet our old university professor. Vincent and Terence arrived late, thinking it was fashionable to do so. Little did we know that we had passed the age of fashion and renaissance was around the corner. Baharul Islam, our eternal ‘flower power’ sensation, was as usual punctual. He swore using words like ‘fart face’ and ‘botox smiley bastards’, we laughed as usual. Anyway, don’t let me drift.

So there we were, early afternoon, with the splendid sunlight glowing along the gaps which escaped the lovely woods at some corner in DSE. Hope tangled like a spring, time wouldn’t freeze but it sure felt fantastic when we saw the combination of the smoke coming out of our cigarettes through vivid sunlight. The moment was excellent because it was an amalgamation of geography, history, culture, language, fashion and art. You will know what I’m talking about if you have also spent many useless afternoons at DSE doing absolutely ‘nothing’ (which seemed so important back then).

Like I said, our conversations range from ‘Mussolini’ to ‘Diesel’, ‘Coffee’ to ‘Flintstones’, ‘Feminism’ to ‘Pocket Billiards’, so on. You get the idea. That day was pretty significant because we were, like usual, discussing about the new Viagra in Agra.

Baharul said that he sacrificed his MBA seat last year so that he could purchase stocks of ‘Axe’ and he cried that no woman came jumping on him like the advertisements show. Vincent and Terence had complications (NON-MATERNITY RELATED).

While we kept whining about life, our professor said he’d get some tea and walked off towards the famous JP Tea stall. We insisted we’d get it but he also insisted, and you can imagine who insisted better. Anyway, our professor returned with a large pot of tea and an assortment of cups- porcelain, plastic, glass, crystal, some plain looking, some expensive, some exquisite. Then he asked us to help ourselves with some hot tea.


When the three of us had a cup of tea in hand, our professor said-

“If you noticed, all the nice looking, expensive cups were taken up, leaving behind the plain and cheap ones. While it is normal for you to want only the best for yourselves, that is the source of your problems and stress.

What all of you really wanted was the ‘tea’, not the cup, but you consciously went for the best cups and were eying each other’s cups.

Now if life is ‘tea’; then the jobs, money and position in society are the cups. They are just tools to hold and contain life, but the quality of life does not change. Sometimes, by concentrating on the cup, we fail to enjoy the ‘tea’.

Anyway, don’t think much. Enjoy the tea.”


HAPPY 2008.



Disclaimer- The ‘Tea & Cup’ example is from some source (Internet). Used only for adverse affect. However, the humour and core of this piece is fucking brilliantly original. Many thanks.

AWESOME THREESOME

“It’s fantastic to visualize the amount of ignorance in education in the form of inert facts.”
- Henry B. Adams


There is something every artist should avoid, the ‘isms’.

College is a place for the ‘isms’. Be it idealism, plagiarism, sexism or activism (not too sure about the last ‘ism’). When we played ‘Superlatives’, three people emerged victorious in the ‘ism’ chalk-talk.

Subhojit Sanyal, Baharul Islam and Abhishek Mukherjee.


The three names listed above are not in order, neither in chaos.

The cure for boredom is curiosity; there is no cure for curiosity. Rightly stated because in this case, nobody is curious about the three and I suppose everyone accepts the boredom here. While the three are in contention with themselves to educate themselves further, it only helps to mention what Einstein once said-

“It’s a miracle that curiosity survives formal education.”


College is divided into three years, in some cases four. Anyway, this is just a rough memory jump through the three years at Ramjas English. Some famous words quoted by the three upon several random, useless situations.


FIRST YEAR-

Subhojit:
- Xaviers, Calcutta and Presidency, Calcutta have no match in India.
- Hey man.
- Oh, I went back to Calcutta.
- I just returned yesterday that’s why I couldn’t come day before yesterday.

Baharul:
- Hee hee hee.
- You also like Salman Khan?
- I will always have cent percent attendance.
- What! You had sex before marriage!!
- Who said that women liked flowers?
- Hee hee hee.

Abhishek:
- I worship Michael Jackson.
- I will take every professor’s ass.
- Bombay is expensive and I am stingy.
- I really worship Michael Jackson.


SECOND YEAR-

Subhojit:
- Delhi University is not bad.
- Hey woman.
- Oh, I went back to Gurgaon.
- My attendance sucks.

Baharul:
- I talk to all the ladies.
- I am very intelligent, like Ruskin Bond.
- Come on, Salman is a nice man. Just misunderstood.
- Don’t be ridiculous. Only I am ridhiculous. Only I, only I.

Abhishek:
- MJ is innocent.
- I think I should start smoking.
- Everyone is a jackass, I am the best.
- I carry arrogance on my narrow shoulders.


THIRD YEAR-

Subhojit:
- Ramjas English is the best.
- Hey Hitesh.
- Oh, I went back to DSE.
- Attendance sucks but it’s epistemologically transcendental like Sartre.
- To the uneducated, A is just three sticks.
- Hey, I am turning intellectual.

Baharul:
- I sing in front of all and I laugh at myself.
- This is getting ridhiculous.
- Salman is actually a nice person. Please try to understand.
- My goal in life? Like a career or something.
- Hey, I am also turning intellectual.

Abhishek:
- MJ for president. Our children deserve a bright future.
- Men are born ignorant, not stupid. Education makes them stupid.
- I can theoretically rape anyone.
- Hey, I am already an intellectual.


By the way, the three had a troubled love life full of indecisions, many a wrong judgement, ego, confusion between the platonic and the normal tonic, misunderstandings, malnutrition, dependence issue, loyalty circumstances, random insensitive comments, heavy confusion, morality, etc. But there was something the three shared. Something that exists and no, I am not talking about ‘Itching private balls in public’.

The three shared the magic of telepathy. In their case, it’s very sweetly and sourly called ‘Bong Tolopothy’. You could never tell when one was on the overdrive. Anyway, the best thing about the three of them in the three years of college life was that they were each other’s silent touchstone. Not many people know this, even I don’t. I’m only bull-shitting.

So, there you go. In the words of a Cranberries number, you are “Free to Decide”.

UNCHAINED MELODY

Vincent- Love, they say, is blind.
Terence- Get your eyes operated then.
Vincent- She’s got me thinking about her completely.
Terence- Okay, who do you mean?
Vincent- She means the most, I have never been mean to her.
Terence- But she’s totally committed.
Vincent- Did I ever mention that I want her?
Terence- (Thinking)
Vincent- No.
Terence- So?
Vincent- My best memories are around her. Like an idea, an abstract.
Terence- She doesn’t know how you feel.
Vincent- Yeah, I wonder if she’d ever figure out.
Terence- I guess she’ll carry on without a doubt.
Vincent- Your guess is as good as mine.

Patrick- Yo, what are you two talking about?
Vincent- Your over cooked inners.
Terence- Make that medium rare.
Patrick- It’s not some fancy hamburger.
Vincent- No bitch, it’s always white like an owl’s egg.
Patrick- Okay. So owl’s produce eggs too?
Terence- No. They borrow eggs from fellow birds and pay the rent.
Patrick- How do the owls pay back?
Vincent- Well, they have night vision.
Patrick- So?
Vincent- Does it fucking matter? Who the hell cares about owls?
Patrick- They are also living beings. We should spare a thought.
Terence- Fair enough, but spare us.
Patrick- Ya ya okay. Ever got a spare in a whole bowling game?
Vincent- We always have the perfect strike. Eat that.
Patrick- Eat what? Owl eggs?
Terence- Fuck, that reminds me.
Vincent- What? Nature’s call?
Terence- Yesterday, I was hungry and made a poach egg for myself.
Patrick- Huh.
Terence- Then I thought I’d make one more.
Vincent- Were you still greedy?
Terence- Oh yes. I decided to make one more.
Patrick- Then?
Terence- Three yolks came out of the third egg!
Vincent- Fuck, that’s uncommentable.
Terence- I felt so strange. It looked really horrid.
Patrick- I know, imagine! Three yolks from one egg. Eww.
Terence- It looked like three unborn “Chicken Littles”.
Vincent- Gross but you know, (long silence) I’d have eaten it.
Terence- Well, that’s what I did.
Patrick- That’s what I would have done too.

PULP FICTION

“The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness. For, he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon you."

- Ezekiel 25:17



Vincent is Vincent and Terence is Jules.
That leaves Patrick with two characters; either Marcellus or Butch. While the former was forcibly fucked, the latter killed Vincent. So let’s have Patrick to be Marcellus, minus his wife. We’ll keep the anal thrust on (just for fun). Butch will have no role here. We should also ignore the thought of the devil snatching Marcellus’s soul, which would complicate things. Thereby, the suitcase would not contain his soul but the lock combination would still be 666.

So here it goes. Baharul and Anurag decide to rob a restaurant while eating in one and among them; Anurag calls Baharul his “honey bunny”.

Baharul (to all in the restaurant) - If any of you bitches move, I’ll execute every motherfucking last one of you.


Anyway, earlier, Vincent and Terence have a discussion about ‘hash’, south of France and ‘chicken la fiesta’. That’s what we discuss in reality too.

Vincent- I’m not saying they’re the same thing, but they fall in the same ballpark.
Terence- Ain’t no fucking ballpark neither. Look, maybe your method of massage differs from mine but touching a ladies’ feet and sticking your tongue in the holiest of holies, ain’t the same ballpark, ain’t the same league, ain’t even the same fucking sport.
Vincent- You ever given a foot massage?
Terence- What you talking about? I am the foot fucking master.
Vincent- I’ve given a hundred different women, a hundred foot massages and they all meant something.
Terence- Would you ever give a guy a foot massage?
Vincent- Fuck you.
Terence- My feet are getting a little tired. I could do with a foot massage right now.
Vincent- Fuck you.


Anyway, Vincent and Terence arrive at Ved’s crib to collect Patrick’s PSP. Ved had borrowed it without an intention to return it. Upon their arrival, Ved and his roommates offer fine burgers and sprite which Terence consumes without permission. Then they talk.

Terence- What does Patrick look like?
Ved- What!
Terence- What country you from?
Ved- What! What! (Gasps)
Terence- ‘What’ is no country I ever heard of.
Ved- What!
Terence- You speak English in ‘What’?
Ved- Wha…
Terence- English, motherfucker, do you speak it?
Ved- Ye-yes-ss.
Terence- Then you know what I’m saying.
Ved- Yes!
Terence- Describe what Patrick looks like?
Ved- What! I…
Terence- Say what again. SAY WHAT AGAIN. I dare you, I double dare you motherfucker. Say what one more goddamn time.
Ved- He’s not black.
Terence- Go on.
Ved- He’s has short hair.
Terence- Does he look like a bitch?
Ved- What!
Terence- DOES HE LOOK LIKE A BITCH?
Ved- No!
Terence- Then why you try to fuck him like a bitch?
Ved- No.
Terence- Yes you did. Yes you did.


Vincent picks up the PSP and they take it along. They stop by at a nearby ‘diner’ for a quick meal. Vincent appreciates the 'Bad Motherfucker' wallet and goes to take a huge nasty smelly heavy turd-fest dump. That’s exactly when Anurag and Baharul decide to rob the restaurant. However, Terence and Vincent stop them. Don’t ask me how, ask Tarantino.



P.S- Sadly, this post will make no sense if you haven’t seen 'Pulp Fiction'. Watch it once, for the sheer joy of expressive cinema. Watch it twice to understand it. Then, watch it thrice to analyze the main points and finally watch it for the fourth time to enjoy it with full understanding.

Further P.S- Keep watching it.