Friday, February 24, 2006


The waves are racing against each other to kiss the virgin land, only to find the huge rock squashing their fantasy into foams. As the small kids take a dive into the sea , I can see the chilly sea wind unwinding a lock of hair from her twirled bun caressing her chubby cheeks. Breaking the momentum of silence,

“What do you want?”
“I don’t understand, Naren”
“What do you want between us, Maya?”
“I want to be with you. I want to marry you. I want to make love to you always. . I want to have 3 kids. Fight with you. I want to see those eyes always.”

“You see my job might endanger people around me. Moreover, Why me? “
“It’s a girl thing. You wont understand.”

“Alright. Lets get marri… “BBhhhhang!!!!” I wake up banging my head, only to find that I have dodged a marker pen thrown at me, to hit my classmate behind. If you are still wondering, I was performing the age-old ritual of taking a nap, dreaming about the famed Indian actress- Jyothika (who enacted the above sequence in a movie) during a lecture. Instead of appreciating the (polite) way I conveyed the message that he is boring, the professor is taking out at me by throwing a marker.

Well jokes apart, it takes a lot of preparation to settle into this mode of unconsciousness. First of all, well-built classmates to be our fortresses, a window for fresh air, a sentinel to warn of any impending danger, a cozy last bench in the class with a soft head rest, unflinching never say die attitude to forge ahead in spite of the stiff competition from peers, carefully choosing the co-ordinates so as not to create a blurb in the radar of the lurking back-stabbers, and most important of all, the right professor.

The professor should honor the privilege bestowed on him by the ORACLE, that HE IS THE ONE and realize the fact that history repeats itself rather than shattering the hope of Morpheuses like me.

Thursday, February 16, 2006

911 situation

Everyday when I get up, the first thing that pops up in my mind is the spectrum of terror alert. It has been blinking yellow, keeping me on guard at an elevated risk for sometime now. It’s a very precarious position, being in the middle not knowing when it will shoot up. I go about with an air of optimism, praying to myself today will not be the D-day. But as the ruthless time, to which I am always a prey, ticks to unfold a new day, my shriveling optimism gives way to heightened anxiety. With palpitating heart and trembling hands, I slowly open my closet to take a peek at the compartment of the “hour” WWHHHAAANNNGGG!!!!!!!!!. It’s an emergency. Red Alert. No jockeys for the day.

Immediately my brain starts to churn out various permutations and combinations, I start to rummage my entire closet. My desperation drives me to this futile exercise of finding a pie in the sky. Emergency has its own way of striking me. It just waits for its moment and springs on me entirely out of the blue. It couldn’t get much better today with my group meeting presentation within an hour. So going to the laundry or manual labor is ruled out.

I bid my time by taking a time out in the shower, where I am really creative, trying hard, how not to succumb to the situation. Minutes fly by, I am in the last leg of my purging, still no way out. Finally I decided to take the Hobson’s choice of confining my BOYS with a good track record (in my case, the least stinker).

So I turn my vision to the laundry basket. I never treated it with respect, always casting a disdainful look, trotting by with an air of flamboyance. But not today, kneeling in front of it and sifting through my Johnsons trying to avoid the overworked ones, especially the gym johnson, long day Johnson, believe me its my instinct that guides. Finally after sheltering my boys with the CHOSEN ONE of the day, I fumigate myself with axe and step out of my apartment, all set to stink the world with my stench.

Thursday, February 09, 2006

Taste Buds' Nepotism

¾ cup aqueous brown solution, ½ a spatula of sucrose crystals, 1/8 cup of white colloidal solution. Stir for 5 seconds and expose the mixture to the microwave region of the electromagnetic spectrum for 90 seconds. Remove the container and direct the contents to the aperture between the lips cloaking the teeth. Caution contents hot.

This is what it all takes to please my gustatory senses addicted to caffeine abuse. Rhetorically, does it please my taste buds drenching it with a domestic product of steamed coffee? Cerebrum syncs with my cerebellum, and there goes my coffee down the drain. Next thing, I find myself under the roof of leading caffeine chain store – Starbucks, trekking/ hitchhiking at 28 degree Fahrenheit, swiping my plastic card, and now my taste buddies are Happy.

Flip side of the coin, the stimulating aroma of the coffee, gentle background orchestra of strings, contagious enthusiasm of young minds, voracious book crunchers, steamy gossips cum discussions, techno savvy's conglomerations …… for a $2.25 tall cappuccino, Its priceless.

Friday, February 03, 2006

Fourth dimension in all its glory

"Hey Naren, Whats up" near the entrance of my building

"Dude, how you'r doing" another guy while holding the door open for me.

"Goooood Moornninggg" with a wide brimming smile.

I would have come across numerous multi-lingual salutations and warm greetings on a cold and rainy day. I was totally flummoxed with the "hi's" from faces that I have never met. what the heck is happening. Instead of pinching myself, I immediately flipped through the Daily Campus (UCONN's Fourth estate) to see if they finally recognised the unassuming greatness in their presence. Not being disappointed for their lack of insight, I perused the foresight column. For my sunsign it read " You will be made to realize and you may pay for it"

Still wondering and pondering, I waded my way to the teaching session in the midst of nature's natural peeing. After illuminating/polluting the young minds with protons, neutrons and chromatography, I started to leave. All of them in one go, """"""""""""""have a great weekend. """"""""""""

When I rewound the morning log and freezed the fourth dimesion to recapture the events that happened in 3-dimensions, a momentary bliss set in. Its the day of all Days, Mother of all days, Its The Friday. Oh my Friday. How did I ever lost sense of you. How can I ever redeem myself for such a dastardly act. Will I ever be accepted back into the species of the Homo sapiens.

Who am I to break the tradition when even the unrelenting rain took the break to reveal the quarter nudity of the moon with its lewd twinkling spectators. So lets glorify the day.

Wednesday, February 01, 2006

"Living" mannequins

Input "&"
Get "&"
(int i= 0, i< 1000, i++)

system conversation

{ "This is my son and daughter- in -law
He is "&" "

"Hello!!! Congratulations"

"Thank you" }

Thousand handshakes, many a flashes, for- loop (poses/jaw straining plastic smiles), never-ending group photos, blaring musical extravaganza, sprinkling rosewater, sweltering heat under the tungsten sun, live-video coverage/telecast - a ritual, that spares none .

Do the couples really have to undergo this torture on the very first day of their nuptial bliss, all in the name of wedding reception? Does it toll the many social abnormalities in the offing for them? It should be quiet a nerve-wrecking experience for the two little hearts who have no options but to go with tide.

Coming to think of this event as a fund-raiser, one couldn't find a better example for Product Placement than the strategic positioning of the couples either near the entrance or when they are the Manhattan Bridge to the Dining hall. In either way one cannot afford to bypass, without paying the toll, to the repast. This might prove to be pretty "costly" for the famished Indian Grad Students.

Please do not expect any changes from the person slandering this practice as he is an ardent advocate of hypocrisy.
To the Moghuls of computer coding, kindly excuse me for the bugs in the program (if those few lines can be given such a status).

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