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.

ACHTUNG BABY

December 24th, 2017.

In some fancy hotel at suburban Delhi, Subhojit and Hitesh were busy with their baby. They were supposed to launch their respective books at the same time. Therefore, they were excited and busy with the final touches. You may ask why they were launching it at the same time, at the same hotel. The answer is simple. They worked together for 10 years and were passionately involved with one another. Are you letting your imagination loose? FYI, two people can be passionately involved with each other’s work. Maybe I mean body work. Okay, enough, don’t imagine.

Subho - Come here.
Hitesh - Please Subho, it's getting too much.
Subho - You ungrateful swine.
Hitesh - Ok, I'm here. Bark.
Subho - I'm excited with our boobs.
Hitesh - You mean books, right?
Subho - Ya ya, smartass.
Hitesh - So, you still want to hibernate from the others?
Subho - Maane?
Hitesh - You were avoiding a lot of people after college.
Subho - Oh that. I thought they were dumb.
Hitesh - What's your point?
Subho - Nothing. I wanted a break. I was tired.
Hitesh - You weren't the only one (sarcasm).
Subho - Fuck off. No wait, just turn around.
Hitesh - All right but only twice.
Subho - That's what you think.
Hitesh - What's your point?



Abhishek Mukherjee and Baharul Islam never got along after college. This was after the former developed feelings for the woman that the latter liked. It happened 10 long years ago and the woman in question is now the chief editor of the world’s largest daily. Coming back to the two, they were supposed to work together for a project called- Save The Cats. This was a move started by leading Follywood (those stuck between Bollywood language and Hollywood accent) star, Mr Salmon. Baharul’s involvement is pivotal since he was the star’s PR whereas Abhishek had to cover the story as his promotion from a JJ (Jackass Journalist) to a JJJ (Junior Jabardast Journalist) depended on it.

Abhishek - Please have a shit. I mean seat.
Baharul - Jerk.
Abhishek - So, let’s start.
Baharul – Whatever.
Abhishek – Why this campaign?
Baharul – Mujhe junglee biliya bahot pasand hai (I’m very fond of wild cats). Besides, Salmon bhai is an animal lover and cares for all living beings.
Abhishek – Is that so?
Baharul – Interview over.
Abhishek – Didn’t he shoot black bucks years ago?
Baharul – That was a one off thing.
Abhishek – What about him running over pedestrians?
Baharul – Another one off thing.
Abhishek- When he banged his car over some street people?
Baharul - Another one off thing.
Abhishek – He would pick up fights with any person?
Baharul – No private questions.
Abhishek – He is not a public person at all.
Baharul – Look who’s talking? You were an asshole in college.
Abhishek – At least, I didn’t get a bouquet of flowers.
Baharul – Y… O… U…. (He says ‘You’ in slow motion).

Baharul calls Salmon and he arrives. Upon hearing the interview content, Abhishek gets beaten black and blue. He is thrown out of the room and hears Baharul laughingly saying, “I have got my revenge”. Abhishek sheds a tear, “I have got my promotion.”



December 25th, 2017.

Anurag Kotoky picks up the newspaper on a chilly Christmas day. He laughs as he reads through the headline, “Journalist Attacked: Is The Media Safe”. He reaches for his cell phone and calls Ved to gossip about the old days. Anurag waits for Ved to answer the call and in the meanwhile listens to the song, ‘Laal Laal Honthon Pe Gori Kiska Naam Hai” (Babe, Whose Name Is On Your Scorching Red Lips) which plays as Ved’s caller tune.

Ved – Hello.
Anurag – Hello.
Ved – Who’s this?
Anurag – Oi kela.
Ved – What is it?
Anurag – What is with your caller tone?
Ved – Oh that.
Anurag – Bizzare.
Ved – Why? Aren’t lips red?
Anurag – No, they are pink.
Ved – Oh, I just wanted the colour ‘Red’.
Anurag – But why kela?
Ved – Firstly, it’s my favourite movie.
Anurag – I can’t believe that you have two reasons.
Ved – Secondly, I completed m my post graduation from JNU.
Anurag – So?
Ved – Moron. Red and JNU. Connect.
Anurag – Oh yeah. I’m such a dork.
Ved – That we are competing for.
Anurag – Shut your trap.
Ved – Go peel bananas.
Anurag – Fuck off.
Ved – Why did you call?
Anurag – Hmmm, I forgot. Shit.
Ved – You need help.
Anurag – Oi kela.
Ved – I have a headache.


First things first. Anurag was a member of parliament and Ved was a senior professor in some college at Delhi University. Both kept in touch with one another and helped each other in several cases. This one time, Anurag won an election only because Ved’s students didn’t allow other people to vote for the other candidates. Such is the power of the youth. Anurag returned the favour by introducing Ved to important doctors. That’s when Ved said, “Yippee, now my headache will be over”.



December 26th, 2017.

A bright winter morning catches the eye of an ageing philosopher. He finds himself sipping the finest blue vodka, abundantly left over, after last night’s celebrations. No one really knew what Vincent did for a living. He was turning 35 next February and had no future plans except for some heavy real assets which he used as investments. By the way, please do not let your imagination run wild with the word, ‘Real Asset’ because it would be insane when I mention that his assets were scattered across the city. Therefore, by assets, I mean buildings, land, machinery, etc. Anyway, Life was spending time in a mosh-pit for this guy, who never seemed to fulfill your imagination of a penthouse owner. Vincent recently returned to ‘Zee News’ after trying his hand at 17 different media houses. Again, please don’t let your imagination run wild with ‘trying his hand’. Specifically speaking, your first perception of Vincent would be absolutely weird but isn’t that the beauty of perception.

Somewhere else, the majestic morning sparks hope to the man who was supposed to give a lecture on ‘Pop’ at Stanford University. By ‘Pop’, mind you, I don’t mean the kind of music that you listen to. ‘Pop’ is ‘Power of Perception’, a special thought-book consisting of exactly 1976 pages. Like Vincent, no one could tell what Terence did to keep himself alive. However, things were a little clearer with Terence. He lived for his weekend football and worked for an entertainment channel based in Toronto. He had his investments in a football club and also owned ‘Perception Publications’ which encouraged young writers to write about explicit mannerisms.

Patrick soaks in the winter sun after 5 laps of the butterfly stroke. When you find yourself zooming out of this, you’d find yourself staring at his lush 5 room apartment in upscale Manhattan worth more than Britney Spear’s first album. Patrick worked as a ‘Creative Head’. Like any non-residential Indian, Life seemed blessed only from the outside. He wanted a change and wanted to shift back to India but whenever he got back to his apartment, he was lured by his fantastic indoor pool and the amount of white females in it. One can only wonder why Patrick didn't like the Big Apple. Was he actually missing home? Was he subject to sexual/anal harassment by his subordinates in the company hierarchy? Here, you can let your imagination run wild.


The story is not over.

FIELDS OF GOLD

“Nothing is more necessary than the unnecessary”
- Life Is Beautiful.


A year ago, I lazily prepared a convocation speech which would be read out just before we flung our grad hats into the sky. This is how the speech was supposed to start-


"
Respected teachers, anticipated fellow graduates and precipitated juniors.

In the words of Victor Krum, ‘I don’t believe it’. It seems like yesterday when all of us were acquainted to each other. It was a time when we took time to understand what college meant. It was also a time when we were out of school uniforms, when we slowly stepped foot into the first blocks of the ‘snakes and ladders’ game called Life. Most importantly, it was a time for us to realize the ‘individual’ within us. Apart from that, it was time for college romance, heartbreaks, coffee excuses, tequila sunrises and empty wallets. It was also a time when all our professors claimed that the course wasn’t a cake walk, when all our seniors swore about the toughest course that Delhi University had to offer and how we silently promised ourselves that we’d contradict them. Now, when we are on the verge of finishing college, we still act like we’re in our freshman year.

Most of us still don’t know if we were educated the expensive way but what we know for sure is that we were educated the right way and we ought to be thankful to the people behind it. Our life tomorrow would be better only because of these people who stayed up all night to prepare a lecture only to find out that most students skipped classes for a random conversation class at some cheerful, warm place in the campus. On a more serious note, I guess we owe a lot to all of our professors who injected a sense of worldly sensibility along with the entire bookish ethos. So here’s a huge round of applause to all the teachers who have been our alarm clocks while we were sleeping throughout life.

Now, I turn my attention to my fellow mates. While I accept that we probably owe favours to each other, I cannot deny the fact that the world doesn’t owe us any favour. As we put our best foot forward towards the achievement of our personal targets, we should remember that ‘to whom much is given, much is expected’. Perception is the word that will play the artist of discontent. Everything that goes around, every topic that is debated and every technology that is upgraded: everything is a matter of perception. The world is there for the taking and it’s up to us to realize how to. The time is now and by that, I don’t mean ‘Times Now’. Jokes apart, I’d like to state one thing- While we seek our answers, let’s hope we don’t forget the question. On that note, fellow graduates, I end my speech and your sleep here.

Thank you fellow graduates. We strive to be the up keepers of the future (up yours).
You may now throw your hats high into the sky with some inspirational music in the background.

Cheers to the BBC event.”



That was the ‘supposed’ speech. Maybe I was under the influence of some of the best marijuana which Vincent smuggled from Mexico. Gracias.

Anyway, college was good.
It was a moment when everything around felt conveniently perfect. It was like we were stuck in that moment for ages.

Some coffee, couple of smokes, little money and lots of time. Life surely SEEMED settled.

SHOULDER TO SHOULDER

I'm thinking of posting two incidents in this post.

(a) CVENT episode- Our first job interview which had some hilarious twists. Of course, I would add some spice so don't start yawning.

(b) Our Gurgaon Festival- About a particular party which went on for 36 hours (maybe more) non-stop. We put wild pigs to shame. It includes Vincent's 5 hour telephone call, our nude dance, the BLACK python revelation and the 'supposed' cobra dance.

Since I'm thinking so give me some time. Lets see how it turns out.

TALES FROM THE CRYPT

Few months ago, we decided to apply to UNR (University of Nevada) and we almost got through, in fact we got through easily that too without the regular shit called GMAT, TOEFL, GRE, blah blah.

Patrick and Terence received call letters in their respective mails. Monica had the backing of National Geographic magazine and also had superb recommendations. Vincent had applied for scholarship under the ST quota (ST- Shameful Talker) and he secured a 100% scholarship.

View from above

(above does not mean heaven)

"Too much heaven" is a number from the Bee Gees. Anyway, let’s not divert. We made plans. We also planned to deal with racism. In other words, we would be the new whites and in some more other words, we would finally be beige.

Our statement of purpose in the application form was simple.

Patrick- Melons and ROYALTY.

Terence- Vertigo and ROYALTY.

Monica- Feminism and ROYALTY.

Vincent- Bazooka and ROYALTY.

Getchell Main Library

The picture above was supposed to the library that we'd never step into. By the way, in my three years at college, I never got a library card made except for the final year. I got it for the final year just because I wanted to know how it felt to have a library card (It felt the same as not having a damn library card).

Anyway, I then sold it off to Baharul who jumped at the thought as he could issue more books. I later realized that Salman Khan's auto-biography ("To Kill A Mocking Buck") was on the library stands.

Manzanita Lake

UNR boasts of a lake with a fountain and that’s what attracted us initially. Vincent thought he could submerge his head under the fountain and truly experience some book he read (Fountainhead).

Patrick is like a mermaid and I'm a piscean so we had no problem with water or wader (in an accent).

The Quad

The Quad was supposed to be our new BBC. To quote Vincent, "We'll smoke up there and then the whites will know what the machine is all about". Sadly, we know about the machine's misfortune before the whites did. The machine has undergone depreciation.

Anyway, we were all set. All set to bake ourselves upon that glorious Orange County, all set to play poker at Vegas, all set to wear red shorts and run along some beach at LA in slow motion, all set to pretend that we were part of the NYPD, all set to sneak into Mexico for some good marijuana, all set to bite the big apple, all set to become the new statues of liberties, all set to use a washing machine in Washington DC, all set to get a Stanford sweatshirt, all set to jump on Oprah Winfrey's couch, all set to say 'howdy pardner' in Texas.

And like they say, "We live in an age when pizza gets to your home before the police"; Vincent was denied admission because the university refused to believe that he was the same guy (er.. his admission form had him revealing his long dandruff ridden hair) when they eventually saw him.

To quote one of the UNR office staff-
"The kid seemed like a chirpy 13 year old who looked million years away from puberty".

Then, we revolted. We believed "The Royalty" should be together. We stood shouting for hours, in rain and in storm, even lit candles at the entrance gate (hoo ha ha.. ). We waited for three months and surprisingly, in those 90 days, Vincent's hair did not grow an inch.

The answer is out 'now'- NOTHING expands for Vincent, its all gossip started and spread by Vincent himself.


Like Charlie Chaplin once said, "In the end, everything is a gag".

GAS LEAK

You must have heard about the 'Big Bang'- a theory which explains the origin of Earth. Well, this is not related to the 'Big Bang' theory but I used this theory for the use of one word- BANG.

First, there was a BANG.

Hitesh- Oops, I passed gas. Please hold your breath for two hours.
Girls- He he. Its normal, even we do it.
Hitesh- But are you explosive about it?
Girls- No. We are feminine.
Hitesh- Whats your point?

PREDATOR

Check out the smile on Vincent’s lousy face (pre-rehab).

Patrick says that Vincent’s skin was too dry, that’s why he closed his eyes and thought of some pumpkin from Venezuela imported from Nicaragua smuggled into Guatemala. Vincent says that the tiny extra layer of skin behind his right ear is his G-spot zone. Ooh, whoever said men don’t experience orgasms.

Then, Vincent was sent to a rehab center and you can immediately see the difference in the picture below. Difference not only by the haircut but also through the way they pose (unlike the earlier picture).

P.S- Everything is a work of fiction. Please don’t get startled and please do not touch yourselves in a moment of fiery internal desire which makes you feel like an Internal Combustion Engine. Just use the bathroom and leave the samples. You never know, Vincent might just sell it off. Oh yess!

The lesser the words, the better.

Pre rehab

Post rehab

IN THE MAKING

Coming really soon: LOLA THERAPY.
- If Lola Therapy doesn't make you laugh, I shall quit smoking.

Also arriving this winter: THE BUTTERFLY EFFECT.
- It includes every single person of the class of 2007. An indept analysis, risky but worth a shot. Written with full facts and detailed research. An honest punch.


Please be patient.

'All human wisdom is summed up in two words - wait and hope.'