“An Urban Legend is similar to a modern folklore consisting of stories thought to be factual by those circulating them. Urban legends are not necessarily untrue, but they are often distorted, exaggerated, or sensationalized over time.
People sometimes take urban legends to be true, instead of recognizing them as tall tales or unsubstantiated rumours, because of the way they are told. The teller of an urban legend may claim it happened to a friend, which serves to personalize and enhance the power of the narrative. Since people, unconsciously or otherwise, often exaggerate, conflate or edit stories when telling them, urban legends can evolve over time.
Additionally, urban legends will often contain a grain of truth (in that, many urban legends are at least somewhat plausible, if not actually possible).”
Monica rightly pointed, “This blog is turning into a boy’s night out fun shit.”
Actually, the blog was supposed to be a reflection of the collective thoughts in college and honestly, the fact remains that the guys had a little more fun. I know it’d be a hard pill to swallow for the other sex but we do love the other sex (okay, let’s not go there).
A ‘women-only’ post was on my mind ages ago but then, like you know, apprehensions run deeper than comprehensions. The only thing that paused me was the reaction, but then I realized that menopause would take place when one would turn 60 and since I am just 23, I should not pause.
INLINE:
We were quite sucked into Greek literature sometime back. This post is somewhat related to that supernatural zone and hence, has words which come from Mount Olympus (I’m sure you’re thinking of the camera, dumb douche-bags!). Be smart, don’t believe whatever it says. Well, believe the Greek mythology for all the glamour attached but don’t believe its relevance with the post. But in case, you do believe the relevance then welcome to the world of Super Perception.
OUTLINE:
Back in the innocent days, there were two MAJOR groups. We had no hood or a ghetto therefore they were just groups not gangs.
The Athenas’ were the ones who had wisdom, wit and craft. They were intelligent, very social, accurate and jovial however there was a catch. They owned a lance to dance from France called ‘arrogance’.
The Aphrodites’ were the wish list of many mortals. They were suave and beauty was the major highlight. However, they had brains to match the looks and with this combination, they carried a fragrance called ‘arrogance’.
By Arrogance, I don’t mean ‘that’ arrogance. It only implies arrogance as a similarity.
CHARACTER ASSASINATION (ALPHABETICALLY):
Amanda (Athenas’) - An individual whose ideas knew no boundaries. She had the firmness to take a strong stand for people close to her and had a fetish for good looking men. Musically inclined and fanatically impulsive.
Monica (Aphrodites’) – Headstrong, aggressive and anti-orthodox. She knew what she wanted and she often got what she wanted (in any way). She’d come initially across as snobbish and sarcastic but that’s how she liked to portray herself.
Rihanna (Athenas’) – Blend of conservatism and modernity. Good orator, super active in social causes and a bad judge of people. She had a mind of her own but often chose not to speak it. Extremely popular and ultimately- most spoken about.
Samantha (Aphrodites’) – Extremely well spoken and brilliantly crafted for making anyone feel like a flop-show. Emotion was her only weakness but she made sure she kept it under the wraps. If there was someone she loathed, she’d leave no stone unturned to put across a statement.
Now, these were the four major characters however, they were two other very important characters who would be absolutely pivotal later on-
Nancy and Miranda (The Twins) - The Artemis’.
By the way- Patrick, Vincent, Terence, Baharul, Hitesh, Subhojit, Abhishek, Ved, Kotoky were the ‘Satyrs’.
According to Greek mythology, ‘Satyrs’ were part human and part beast and were the gods of woods and mountains who amused themselves by drinking, merry making and pursuing the nymphs of the forest.
Patrick, Vincent, Kotoky and Terence were with the Aphrodites’,
Baharul, Hitesh, Ved and Abhishek supported the Athenas’.
Subhojit could not make a choice and abused other Satyrs’.
BITTER SWEET SYMPHONY:
‘The silence often caused violence’.
The Athenas’ never saw eye to eye with the Aphrodites’. Call it an inability or call it an ego clash, the two groups had issues that tissues couldn’t wipe. First things first, Athenas’ hated the exaggerated liberation policy practiced by Aphrodites’. This resulted in a series of events which only resulted in hiding notes which were meant for mass distribution. We could see the entire difference in the ethos, pathos and stilettos when the Aphrodites’ chose a Goa trip and the Athenas’ headed for Pakistan. That gave the Satyrs’ a lot of gossip.
Vincent – Aphrodites’ like to enjoy and that’s the right thing.
Baharul – Athenas’ are trying to improve the society.
Patrick – Society can eat my balls.
Ved – If we don’t improve society then you’ll never enjoy life.
Terence – Life is not sex which can be enjoyed.
Ved – Ya, I think you are right.
Kotoky – He is not right, he is Terence.
Baharul – So, who do you like?
Kotoky – Oh kela, what do you mean? Baal kela!
Hitesh – They are all nice but…
Patrick – Aphrodites’ rule and that’s it.
Baharul – Tell me whom you like.
Terence – You like an Athena’, don’t ask us weird questions.
Baharul – Yes, I love her. So?
Kotoky – Kela.
Hitesh – I liked Samantha earlier.
Kotoky – Me too.
Vincent – Apparently, you like Nancy too, eh?
Hitesh – So what? I have a large heart. Enough space for love.
Patrick – Fuck you bitch. How many times have you fallen in love?
Hitesh – Only twice.
Abhishek – Guys, I think I can’t perform when it matters.
Baharul – Arrey, even I performed badly in the exams.
Vincent – He means another performance, jackass.
Baharul – Accha, dance performance?
Patrick – No man. Try to understand.
Baharul – Then it must be a singing performance.
Kotoky – Kela.
Vincent – Exactly !
Baharul – Haww! Naughty boy.
Abhishek – Throw this guy out.
Patrick – Abhishek man, just fake it.
Abhishek – It’s not emotional, it’s mechanical.
Vincent – Come to papa. Come here.
Anyway, the ‘Satyrs’ were pretty much united in conversations as compared to the other two groups. You should have noticed that Subhojit was no where in the ‘Satyrs’ conversation, that’s because he was busy running errands for both the groups. Every one knew that would take it’s toll someday, just like a bridge takes a toll for the crap it undergoes. One day, it happened, Rihanna did not like Subhojit mingling too much with a group who thought getting wasted was the best way to waste time. The ultimatum was given by Rihanna and surprisingly, Subhojit ignored her. It was speculatively surprising because of the relation Subhojit and Rihanna shared, they were like siblings and for all the love and affection they shared, Subhojit chose the Aphrodites’. No one can find a reason even now. People say that Subhojit fell for Amanda and she did not reciprocate or maybe that Subhojit thought he had a chance to learn all about make up and foundation with the Aphrodites’. The buzz that went around that specific time- Clueless.
One would assume many things but the fact remained. The Athenas’ hated the Aphrodites’ and the feeling was horridly mutual. We can guess why Rihanna issued an ultimatum to Subhojit and the following is the best analysis.
The Athenas’ were working on some college activity and Rihanna was busy with the billboard hoarding preparations. She worked very hard and expected appreciation for her efforts. The hoarding was up and Monica casually pointed to Subhojit that it should have been-
Ramjas College and HT present.
NOT Ramjas College and HT presents.
Subhojit laughed on Rihanna’s face over this and this evidently upset her a lot. This episode probably got Amanda and Rihanna to issue the ultimatum and boy, the ultimatum was golden just like any golden globe award. Anyway, like stated, he refused and chose to be with the ‘supposed’ eye candies of the college. Rihanna called Monica a wild heron thereafter and it also marked the aggression of both groups. Amanda spilled a bottle of ‘strawberry pickle’ inside Monica’s croc skinned Louis Vitton. That triggered Monica to an extent that Amanda had to lose some of her golden locks because of a chewing gum placed very strategically. One fine day, Samantha took the banter to another level. She asked if people actually help the ‘needy’ because they want to or because it adds to their resume. Concrete facts might entertain the thought that Samantha was only voicing what other people started but if that is a fact then we need to know who the other people were. Samantha was great in her ways. She was immensely outspoken, funny and full of wit but what she wanted was 'the mansion and not the apartment'. For the record, guys like Terence and Vincent would love to stay in an apartment and enjoy the weekend football with some anti-depressives.
Here’s a flash. Samantha was an ‘ex Athena’. Monica always claimed that Samantha quit the ‘Athenas’ whereas one Satyr swore that she was ignored when she was an Athenian. If there was any constant throughout the three years, it had to be the Patrick-Monica relation. The Aphrodites were a significant modern 'mansion' compared to the ever comfortable 'apartment' horizon that Athenas represented. The more you saw, the less you knew. People say that implementation of things is what keeps things going but as the world looks for order; there are some things which break the order and interrupt the exodus.
Between all the seriousness, there was a sweet funny patch. Apparently, a satyr had fallen for one of the Athenas. There was a lot of misunderstanding teamed with miscommunication. That makes you wonder, doesn’t it, as to how a mass communication aspirant would let miscommunication creep in, but it did. To solve it all, the innocent satyr presented a bouquet of the choicest roses straight from Mughal garden. This was followed by a nice conversation with the satyr carefully hearing every word-
Amanda – Wow. A bouquet. Congratulations.
Rihanna – Jeez, in full public view!
Amanda – Now you will be historically remembered.
(Some one behind gives a loud ‘bollywoodish’ giggle)
Rihanna – It’s not funny.
Amanda – It’s romantic, right?
Rihanna – It’s not fair.
Amanda – Flowers have the power.
Rihanna – But why me? I never instigated anything.
Amanda – The Ocean of love communicates.
Rihanna – Try to understand, all this could have negative effect.
Amanda – Yeah baby, but enjoy the moment.
Rihanna – I’m embarrassed. Really.
Amanda – It’s a gesture. Acknowledge it.
Rihanna – Notes behind every flower? Some gesture!
Amanda – This proves he was a science student earlier.
Rihanna – How?
Amanda – We are studying ‘Romanticism’ theory.
Rihanna – So?
Amanda – This was his practical.
Rihanna – Very funny.
Amanda – Trust me, he’ll give a viva and write a thesis too.
Rihanna – So, it is all science.
Amanda – Yes. And considering the blog we are in which is fiction.
Rihanna – The entire thing means, this is science fiction!
Amanda – Ahaan!!!
So, would you really believe it was science fiction?
Anyway, in between the realms of reality, the Athenas were walking on thin ice too. Though not concretely visible, Amanda and Rihanna had minor black outs. It happened when Rihanna took assertiveness seriously when she approached Amanda with a heartfelt propaganda to welcome a satyr’s feelings. And like Newton once stated that every action has an equal and opposite reaction, there was reaction but of a different kind. The kind that broke the satyr’s heart but which was stitched immediately over the thread of ‘more than a friend, less than a boyfriend’.
You can’t blame the satyr here because according to another satyr, the satyr in question had a mixed preference. Apparently, he swung the other way and the ‘much claimed’ love was a cover for his sexuality. Things were further proved when a ‘female’ junior failed to instigate his hormonal feelings.
As weeks went on, the Athenas were losing grip and the Aphrodites leisurely spent time at DSE. Amanda was developing a close bond with the Artemis. Nancy and Miranda were slowly overtaking Rihanna in Amanda’s life. Maybe she was undergoing a change, a change in the head and a change in life. Although none of it was ever made public but it showed. Rihanna was increasingly busy with social work and people said that Amanda was the one who was used to the attention and that’s where eyes didn’t meet. On the other hand, the sledging between Aphrodites and Athenas didn’t cease. Heaven knows why.
Nancy and Miranda were the best friends that people often spoke about. They were together and happy. On one occasion, they were BOTH seen wearing pink sweaters, pink socks, pink stoles and similar sandals. Both of them were 'leftists' but not Marxists. Miranda once wrote a love letter on behalf of Nancy when the latter’s hand was not well. Such was the bonding; they shared lives and were the thickest friends. Vincent claimed they would marry each other sometime in future and he would be the perfect prop.
Don’t we all agree that life picks up when we are at our lowest. Miranda and Monica had nothing in common except for the letters ‘M’ and the wonder boy, Patrick. No hidden icons here but in almost every banter that the two women indulged in, Patrick had a part, intentional or non-intentional. I wouldn’t go into the details of any fight but here’s a tiny example-
Monica – Stay away woman.
Miranda – You stay away and get on your life.
Monica – Do you even have a life to consider?
Miranda – I do, better than yours.
Monica – Yeah, that’s why you opt for forbidden objects.
Miranda – Don’t be a bitch.
Monica – Whom are you calling a bitch, bitch?
Miranda – WHOM are you calling a bitch, bitch?
Monica – Whom are YOU calling a bitch, bitch?
Vincent – Cut it out, girls. Love each other.
Patrick – Show me some love!
Winter bought a significant change. It was a time when all the women were significantly okay with each other. Don’t ask me how. It just happened. Well, that’s what we’d like to believe. Even if there was any hidden animosity, it was tried best to ignore. That was a good stage because all the women were passing smiles and kisses as if they were contesting for a beauty pageant show. They invited each other for social gatherings and fucking greeted each other first thing in the morning. One irritating thing was when they acknowledged each other as ‘baby’, ‘darling’, ‘doll’. It wouldn’t seem to the women but the men had a good laugh over it.
And boom! Just when we thought we lost the spice. All the women had ‘new’ issues to talk about. I guess the phrase ‘same old brand new you’ spread across yet again. Then, as the months went on, a lot of things kept happening. The cold war, mud throwing, sling matches, jab crunching, pasted chewing gum, personality attacks, relationship agonies, mental games, side kick upsets; all this never ‘actually’ ceased but still within that year of enormous finding, the women realized they were up for a lost cause and realized that another group stole all attention right under their nose. However, the time zone when ‘The Artemis’ attacked the Aphrodites and Athenas, some Satyrs shifted loyalty and probably because they were extremely tempted to. Who knows? But the fact was that no one knew which satyr supported whom.
There was also a time when global warming was compared to being activists and feminists were equivalent to global fretting. If you should know, then Athenas were the activists and Aphrodites were the feminists.
Sometime back, Monica and Miranda swore ‘non solemn’ words to each other over the phone. Then there were further mud-slangs thrown. Apparently, Samantha and Miranda spent some time together and when everyone assumed all was well; a well noted fact came out – Insecurity once, insecurity forever. Topics like diary entries, physicalities, mentalities, pot shots, leaked secrets, murdered trusts all came under the sun when it was absolutely raining cats and dogs. A satyr says, “It happened because they tried living together and besides, trying to forget the past even though they had their loyalties else where is dangerous.”
Samantha and Miranda were at it, full fledged, in public-
Nancy-
Bitching is considered a damn healthy option.
Samantha-
You telling me babe that bitching is healthy? Then I’m sure your best friend is the healthiest unfit person in class of 2007. Patrick and Monica, do you guys agree? And for your kindest info, Nancy, that woman has told me every single personal detail of your life in just a span of one week. Over and out (regarding this topic).
Miranda-
Oh no. It’s just begun woman...wait. Look who the fuck is bitching now; that too to people's best friends thinking they'll believe HER!! We sure know she is the MOST trustworthy person in class. Of course she is, she can dictate when a topic begins and when it ends... ha!! And as far as personal details go, I’m sure I can write documents on HER friend’s lives. I just don’t waste my time on stuff some people spend their lives on, like peculating negative image of people just for random publicity and being OBSESSED with personal details.
Samantha-
Woman, your long and loud comment proves you are guilty because at least I didn’t have to justify myself to people because they all know what you are from the beginning. Tell me na, what'd I say about my friends? Tell me, I’m curious and trust me I have nothing to do with Nancy either but I thought she should know who's told me everything about her, from her personal diary to her love life; poor Nancy, trusting a deadly serpent! All I’m glad about is you got through IIMC or else your negative effect would’ve rubbed off on me too and I don’t bitch behind people's back, what I have to say I say it then and there and everyone knows that. Miranda, one piece of advice- stop thinking the entire world is after you! Get a life please.
Miranda-
The bond between Nancy and her best friend is way too strong for ANY one who wishes to engage them in cat fights; unlike some other so called best friends who love bitching about each other! (NOW IT’S OVER AND OUT) blabber you female. I withdraw my attention from your cheap tricks!
Nancy-
Both of you stop now. The boys are having fun over this. We must unite as women and beat the shit of the boys.
Alas, it never happened. But here’s a thought-
Good girls keep diaries,
Bad girls don’t have time.
All the women mentioned in the post are significant, no matter what ANYONE thinks. The difference in opinion among all of them gave us a bitter sweet symphony. And like they say, ‘Variety adds spice to life’, we saw the spice and we, men, admit that we love these women no matter who was right or wrong. Just imagine! The women got into this mud battle only to entertain us, that’s being very very thoughtful. (Okay, don’t take it seriously).
Jokes apart, today, Amanda and Monica come across as pleasant surprises to each other. They make plans to meet and talk about the weather, books and the city; but they never get an opportunity to meet. Maybe they’d find it weird or strange to sit and have a free flowing conversation. In that case, they should stand and talk. Both the women have undergone quite a year. Both haven’t received what they truly want and both have suffered a little more than they deserved.
There could have been a mention of a relationship gone sour because somebody wanted that relationship for herself but then again, it’s easy to be judgmental knowing only one side of the story. However, since it would only recall old hurts so it’s best to not mention it and walk on.
SUMMARY:
It is quite impossible to summarize what actually went on and who actually was right. Perhaps, they started on the wrong foot in college but, now, as we mature with every passing day, it only helps to feel that life isn’t about fighting over petty issues. Please note that everything written is not a judgemental theory about what was right or wrong; neither is it about a morality report card. And for all the women who found some space in this post-
You can dance; you can jive, having the time of your life
See that girl, watch that scene, dig in the Dancing Queen.
Finally, I didn’t mean to go very personal and hollow but sometimes fiction should take a backseat. And even if reality is in the front seat, we realize that we are all running to a stand still.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
CASABLANKET
There are two positive things that happen when you finish college. You get a post graduate degree and work. A post graduate degree would help you gain contacts and some other valuables. You work because you have to, not because you want to. That’s the underlying reality of the cruel world we live in.
- Patrick.
There are two positive things that happen when you finish college. You either work or you opt for further studies. Well, you don’t opt for further studies, you are selected on the basis of vigorous interview and discussion sessions; but that’s another story so let’s just assume that you opt for further studies. As far as work goes, you work because you have to eat and survive. That’s the sadistic reality of the cruel world we live in.
- Terence.
There are two negative things that happen when you finish college. You want to study further yet you work. You work because that helps you come in contact with newer models of the other species. You work because you know, somewhere really deep within your heart, that there is an ‘Ugly Betty’ waiting for the transformation and wanting to get laid. That’s the pivotal reality of the cruel world we live in.
- Vincent.
June 2007:
College was over and done with, that’s what we thought. But we lived in the thought and continued whisking the summer drooling over TV shows and internet consumption. And then the phone rang:
Tillie-let Tillie-let, Tillie-let Tillie-let.
Terence – Hello?
Patrick – Hey, what’s up?
Terence – The usual.
Patrick – Wanna work?
Terence – Depends. Where?
Patrick – The company is called CVENT.
Terence – Cement!
Patrick – C VENT, asshole.
Terence – What do we have to do?
Patrick – Does it matter?
Terence – Of course, it’s about integrity.
Patrick - They pay us 18k.
Terence – I’m coming.
Patrick – Monica and Samantha would also join us.
Terence – Sure.
Patrick – Call Vincent too.
Terence – He must have known already. Telepathy.
Tillie-let Tillie-let, Tillie-let Tillie-let
Vincent – Yes?
Terence – I have a job for you.
Vincent – The only job I want is a blowjob.
Terence – Think decent, at times.
Vincent – Okay, handjob will do.
Terence – Opening at CVENT.
Vincent – Cement!
Terence – C VENT, asshole.
Vincent – What’s the job detail?
Terence – They pay us 20k.
Vincent – I will sell myself for that amount.
Terence – All right, I’ll see you when I see you.
Couple of days later. Terence and Vincent meet at the metro station, as they wait for Patrick, Monica and Samantha, they start a conversation-
Terence – Here’s your resume.
Vincent – You call this a resume!
Terence – No, I call it the periodic table.
Vincent – Jackass, Paris Hilton is not my ambition in life.
Terence – Shit. Just throw stuff when they ask you.
Vincent – What the fuck do I say?
Terence – Tell them you want to open new Hilton resort in Paris.
Vincent – You think the interviewers are dumb.
Terence – Well, they called us for an interview.
Vincent – Aha, now you make sense.
Meanwhile the two discuss things that shouldn’t be discussed. Patrick, Monica and Samantha arrive an hour later.
Patrick – Hello.
Vincent – You smell good, is that aqua marine?
Terence – It’s probably nicotine.
Patrick – You have your resumes, right?
Vincent and Terence – Right.
Patrick – Let’s go. It’s an hour from here.
Terence – Why couldn’t they come to us?
Vincent – Yeah, why do we have to go to them?
Patrick – You can’t have your cake and eat it too.
Terence – What good is a cake if you can’t eat it?
Vincent – Why should I eat someone else’s cake instead?
Patrick – It’s a proverb, a saying.
Vincent – Proverb saying what?
Patrick – Never mind. Can we go?
Meanwhile the two women were busy conversing with each other and therefore, they aren’t too vocal in this post. Anyway, the five of them hopped into the metro only to get down at some weird place to catch a local transport. A yellow DTC bus with fresh pukes, semi pisses, dry nose wastes, shining yeasts, solid saliva and probably hand ridden semen all over the seats.
Fret not and don’t make faces. They placed themselves far away from the ‘special’ seats and also took some pictures. Speaking of which, that’s where the ‘hand of god’ was conceived. An hour later, they got down from the public transport and that’s when the two women thought they’d rather visit a friend staying nearby than attend a boring interview session. So they left. Patrick, Terence and Vincent caught hold of another public transport and drove off in that beauty for about twenty minutes. The beauty referred to was a cycle rickshaw, which incidentally couldn’t race a van which carried nearly fifteen people. The fifteen people were also called for an interview and they stopped midway to ask for directions, since they were lost and confused like us. Now, there was a problem. No matter how absurd the situation, we don’t ask for directions. We simply don’t. Like Hannibal said,
‘We will either find a way or make a way’.
To our ego’s surprise, we arrived at the specified location at the specific time. Well, almost specific thanks to traffic. Atlantic ocean versus the pacific. Kindly ignore the last sentence. Upon entering the office, Terence realized his fly was open which meant it must have been open all the way through but that’s debatable. Meanwhile, Patrick asked Monica and Samantha to, at least, give the interview. Within all the meanwhiles, the conference room was populated by the fifteen people whom the three encountered on the way. A short introduction round was followed with a mini history class on CVENT clienteles, profiles and turnovers.
During the short orientation session, Vincent tried his best to make eye contact with a slender (slim + tender) female across his table; Vincent’s idea of eye contact was playing see-saw with his eye brows with his tongue wagging out. Patrick kept messaging Monica and Terence tried his level best not fall asleep. And suddenly, loud sounds of sharp stilettos could be heard which incidentally broke everyone’s already broken attention.
Monica and Samantha stormed into the room and explained that the traffic situation was overly pathetic and started cursing the government. The man in charge, the CEO, asked them to take their seat and Vincent suddenly popped this, “Where?”
While the CEO kept going on about the company, Monica and Samantha kept on with their unfinished conversation. The CEO requested them thrice to maintain decorum but don’t we all know that entertaining silence is something most women find hard to achieve. So, the CEO was pissed and asked them to leave. Monica and Samantha just rose and stormed out. They banged the glass door so hard that it remains stuck even today. Luckily, there were two doors. Once the orientation finished, we were taken to an aisle to test our writing skills combined with speed and comprehension. As we walked out of the room after the orientation, the CEO asked us if we were with the two ‘rude’ women. ‘No’ came the answer in chorus. Wicked eh.
We, then, sat on twin computers for the written test. Terence and Patrick took lots of time to complete the work whereas Vincent finished in a jiffy. Here’s the real deal- Vincent finished really early and didn’t know what to do with the free time so he fondled with his article and the fonts. He had each paragraph to a different font and colour which included pink, maroon, orange and red. Can you remotely imagine? A six or seven paragraph article with different colours and fonts, that too in an online written test. No wonder he was noted to be too colourful for the company.
Patrick and Terence breezed through the test and managed to impress at the final interview. The chief interviewer told us that there was an opening for only post and only candidate would get the final nod. But like they say, a squint and a pint never reply back. We never received any notification and still wonder who eventually got the job. By the time, we finished all the formalities; we realized that we were running late. The office was kind enough to provide us with transport to any place we desired. Vincent suggested we take the vehicle to Kasauli but Terence was too pissed since Vincent lost Terence’s zippo. Fuck, Vincent still owes Terence a zippo.
Upon much debate, they finally headed to Kotoky’s place to get some rest. On the way, Vincent sweet talked the driver to stop near a local liquor store where he got down and bought the valuables. After a while, a police van stopped the vehicle we were traveling in and at the spur of the moment decided not to check our belongings. As we wondered why, Vincent told us, “Relax. I have the police in my pockets”. Little did we know that he meant pants. Here’s the actual story-
Officer – Where are you boys going at this time?
Vincent gets out of the car and takes the officer to a corner. Then they speak.
Vincent – Please sir, we are students.
Officer – I can sense you are carrying alcohol.
Vincent – Can we please settle it?
Officer – Are you bribing me? Fucker (native language).
Vincent – No no, I’m only showing the love.
Officer takes a good look at him.
Officer – Fine. Come alone to my house tomorrow.
Vincent – (Gulps) But why sir?
Officer – What do you expect? For letting you three go.
Vincent – Okay, but I have a condition.
Officer – What? Protection?
Vincent – No, that’s your wish.
Officer – Then?
Vincent – Let me act cool in front of these two.
Officer – You will say that you threatened me?
Vincent – Yes. And that I have police in my pocket.
Officer – Okay but tomorrow at 10 pm sharp.
Vincent – (Gulps) Sshharp? Ok...kay.
The police van disappears after secretly taking Vincent’s phone number. Patrick and Terence were inside the car and only saw them talking. They were relieved to see the police van go away. That’s when Vincent arrogantly came towards the vehicle.
Vincent – I have the police in my pockets.
Patrick – That’s amazing.
Terence – Brilliant.
Vincent – Hail to the machine. Me.
Afterword:
"Accept that some days you're the pigeon and some days you're the statue."
- Scott Adams.
- Patrick.
There are two positive things that happen when you finish college. You either work or you opt for further studies. Well, you don’t opt for further studies, you are selected on the basis of vigorous interview and discussion sessions; but that’s another story so let’s just assume that you opt for further studies. As far as work goes, you work because you have to eat and survive. That’s the sadistic reality of the cruel world we live in.
- Terence.
There are two negative things that happen when you finish college. You want to study further yet you work. You work because that helps you come in contact with newer models of the other species. You work because you know, somewhere really deep within your heart, that there is an ‘Ugly Betty’ waiting for the transformation and wanting to get laid. That’s the pivotal reality of the cruel world we live in.
- Vincent.
June 2007:
College was over and done with, that’s what we thought. But we lived in the thought and continued whisking the summer drooling over TV shows and internet consumption. And then the phone rang:
Tillie-let Tillie-let, Tillie-let Tillie-let.
Terence – Hello?
Patrick – Hey, what’s up?
Terence – The usual.
Patrick – Wanna work?
Terence – Depends. Where?
Patrick – The company is called CVENT.
Terence – Cement!
Patrick – C VENT, asshole.
Terence – What do we have to do?
Patrick – Does it matter?
Terence – Of course, it’s about integrity.
Patrick - They pay us 18k.
Terence – I’m coming.
Patrick – Monica and Samantha would also join us.
Terence – Sure.
Patrick – Call Vincent too.
Terence – He must have known already. Telepathy.
Tillie-let Tillie-let, Tillie-let Tillie-let
Vincent – Yes?
Terence – I have a job for you.
Vincent – The only job I want is a blowjob.
Terence – Think decent, at times.
Vincent – Okay, handjob will do.
Terence – Opening at CVENT.
Vincent – Cement!
Terence – C VENT, asshole.
Vincent – What’s the job detail?
Terence – They pay us 20k.
Vincent – I will sell myself for that amount.
Terence – All right, I’ll see you when I see you.
Couple of days later. Terence and Vincent meet at the metro station, as they wait for Patrick, Monica and Samantha, they start a conversation-
Terence – Here’s your resume.
Vincent – You call this a resume!
Terence – No, I call it the periodic table.
Vincent – Jackass, Paris Hilton is not my ambition in life.
Terence – Shit. Just throw stuff when they ask you.
Vincent – What the fuck do I say?
Terence – Tell them you want to open new Hilton resort in Paris.
Vincent – You think the interviewers are dumb.
Terence – Well, they called us for an interview.
Vincent – Aha, now you make sense.
Meanwhile the two discuss things that shouldn’t be discussed. Patrick, Monica and Samantha arrive an hour later.
Patrick – Hello.
Vincent – You smell good, is that aqua marine?
Terence – It’s probably nicotine.
Patrick – You have your resumes, right?
Vincent and Terence – Right.
Patrick – Let’s go. It’s an hour from here.
Terence – Why couldn’t they come to us?
Vincent – Yeah, why do we have to go to them?
Patrick – You can’t have your cake and eat it too.
Terence – What good is a cake if you can’t eat it?
Vincent – Why should I eat someone else’s cake instead?
Patrick – It’s a proverb, a saying.
Vincent – Proverb saying what?
Patrick – Never mind. Can we go?
Meanwhile the two women were busy conversing with each other and therefore, they aren’t too vocal in this post. Anyway, the five of them hopped into the metro only to get down at some weird place to catch a local transport. A yellow DTC bus with fresh pukes, semi pisses, dry nose wastes, shining yeasts, solid saliva and probably hand ridden semen all over the seats.
Fret not and don’t make faces. They placed themselves far away from the ‘special’ seats and also took some pictures. Speaking of which, that’s where the ‘hand of god’ was conceived. An hour later, they got down from the public transport and that’s when the two women thought they’d rather visit a friend staying nearby than attend a boring interview session. So they left. Patrick, Terence and Vincent caught hold of another public transport and drove off in that beauty for about twenty minutes. The beauty referred to was a cycle rickshaw, which incidentally couldn’t race a van which carried nearly fifteen people. The fifteen people were also called for an interview and they stopped midway to ask for directions, since they were lost and confused like us. Now, there was a problem. No matter how absurd the situation, we don’t ask for directions. We simply don’t. Like Hannibal said,
‘We will either find a way or make a way’.
To our ego’s surprise, we arrived at the specified location at the specific time. Well, almost specific thanks to traffic. Atlantic ocean versus the pacific. Kindly ignore the last sentence. Upon entering the office, Terence realized his fly was open which meant it must have been open all the way through but that’s debatable. Meanwhile, Patrick asked Monica and Samantha to, at least, give the interview. Within all the meanwhiles, the conference room was populated by the fifteen people whom the three encountered on the way. A short introduction round was followed with a mini history class on CVENT clienteles, profiles and turnovers.
During the short orientation session, Vincent tried his best to make eye contact with a slender (slim + tender) female across his table; Vincent’s idea of eye contact was playing see-saw with his eye brows with his tongue wagging out. Patrick kept messaging Monica and Terence tried his level best not fall asleep. And suddenly, loud sounds of sharp stilettos could be heard which incidentally broke everyone’s already broken attention.
Monica and Samantha stormed into the room and explained that the traffic situation was overly pathetic and started cursing the government. The man in charge, the CEO, asked them to take their seat and Vincent suddenly popped this, “Where?”
While the CEO kept going on about the company, Monica and Samantha kept on with their unfinished conversation. The CEO requested them thrice to maintain decorum but don’t we all know that entertaining silence is something most women find hard to achieve. So, the CEO was pissed and asked them to leave. Monica and Samantha just rose and stormed out. They banged the glass door so hard that it remains stuck even today. Luckily, there were two doors. Once the orientation finished, we were taken to an aisle to test our writing skills combined with speed and comprehension. As we walked out of the room after the orientation, the CEO asked us if we were with the two ‘rude’ women. ‘No’ came the answer in chorus. Wicked eh.
We, then, sat on twin computers for the written test. Terence and Patrick took lots of time to complete the work whereas Vincent finished in a jiffy. Here’s the real deal- Vincent finished really early and didn’t know what to do with the free time so he fondled with his article and the fonts. He had each paragraph to a different font and colour which included pink, maroon, orange and red. Can you remotely imagine? A six or seven paragraph article with different colours and fonts, that too in an online written test. No wonder he was noted to be too colourful for the company.
Patrick and Terence breezed through the test and managed to impress at the final interview. The chief interviewer told us that there was an opening for only post and only candidate would get the final nod. But like they say, a squint and a pint never reply back. We never received any notification and still wonder who eventually got the job. By the time, we finished all the formalities; we realized that we were running late. The office was kind enough to provide us with transport to any place we desired. Vincent suggested we take the vehicle to Kasauli but Terence was too pissed since Vincent lost Terence’s zippo. Fuck, Vincent still owes Terence a zippo.
Upon much debate, they finally headed to Kotoky’s place to get some rest. On the way, Vincent sweet talked the driver to stop near a local liquor store where he got down and bought the valuables. After a while, a police van stopped the vehicle we were traveling in and at the spur of the moment decided not to check our belongings. As we wondered why, Vincent told us, “Relax. I have the police in my pockets”. Little did we know that he meant pants. Here’s the actual story-
Officer – Where are you boys going at this time?
Vincent gets out of the car and takes the officer to a corner. Then they speak.
Vincent – Please sir, we are students.
Officer – I can sense you are carrying alcohol.
Vincent – Can we please settle it?
Officer – Are you bribing me? Fucker (native language).
Vincent – No no, I’m only showing the love.
Officer takes a good look at him.
Officer – Fine. Come alone to my house tomorrow.
Vincent – (Gulps) But why sir?
Officer – What do you expect? For letting you three go.
Vincent – Okay, but I have a condition.
Officer – What? Protection?
Vincent – No, that’s your wish.
Officer – Then?
Vincent – Let me act cool in front of these two.
Officer – You will say that you threatened me?
Vincent – Yes. And that I have police in my pocket.
Officer – Okay but tomorrow at 10 pm sharp.
Vincent – (Gulps) Sshharp? Ok...kay.
The police van disappears after secretly taking Vincent’s phone number. Patrick and Terence were inside the car and only saw them talking. They were relieved to see the police van go away. That’s when Vincent arrogantly came towards the vehicle.
Vincent – I have the police in my pockets.
Patrick – That’s amazing.
Terence – Brilliant.
Vincent – Hail to the machine. Me.
Afterword:
"Accept that some days you're the pigeon and some days you're the statue."
- Scott Adams.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
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.
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.
Thursday, February 7, 2008
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.
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.
Friday, February 1, 2008
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.
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.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
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.
Friday, January 18, 2008
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.
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.
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
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.
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.
Saturday, January 5, 2008
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.
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.
Sunday, December 23, 2007
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”.
- 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”.
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