Gotta Get This Up And Running...Again.

I've been thinking of putting something up here for a long time. An original creation. But sadly that department seems to have shut up shop. Or there's no room for it inside my head right now. Whichever it is, point is that I have written mostly zilch in a long time. If you discount the BS on the many answer papers, I have written exactly zilch.

There are no weird ideas floating around in my head. Which is kinda disturbing, because I never seemed to lack that Dali-ciousness. :(

And now, we've worked our way all the way down to the last week of the year. An eventful one. So I'm gonna go over it once more, and see how it's all balanced out. January was the month of hope. New Year starting out, and a lotta things on the To Do list. Most of which were the same reasons I quit my job for. Exam after exams after exam. Still not enough courage to chuck it all and follow some diaphanous dream. Still enough sense left in me not to chuck it all and follow some diaphanous dream.

February. CAT results come out, eventually. Punch in the gut. Now what? Got no answer to the question "So, what are you doing now?". Some questions of my own now. But still, there's the LIBA interview to look forward to.

March 26th is the LIBA interview, and on March 21st I manage to tear the ligaments in my left ankle. Hobbled on one leg to Chennai, and to LIBA for the interview. Horrible GD, great interview. Met my soon-to-be best friend at the GD. LIBA was the best one I had in my kitty till now, and I hoped I'd done enough.

April brought doubts, and questions, and more questions. Specifically, "Now what?". The "I knew it." look reserved for all those who fall because they strayed off the beaten track was beginning to make it's presence felt. Basketball-wise I was close to regaining peak form, now that the injury had healed. Creativity-wise, I was probably hitting an all time high. The Wacom Bamboo was my weapon of choice, and I was practically invincible. Somehow that seemed to give me the bare minimum self-confidence.

May and I was on the LIBA waitlist. With no more information, or hope of conversion. Desperate times, and Bank PO tests were beginning to look interesting. "Screw the dream, I need a job."

June 2nd. "Why was your phone switched off?! You had a call from LIBA! Call them back!". Damn! No balance. Run to town. Recharge. "Hello? Yeah, I got a call about a seat? Yes, I'm interested. Ok. On 7th. Thank you.". Improptu jig in the middle of the town. I'm telling you man, it felt like coming up for air. Whoosh. Pack up. Fly. Enter LIBA.

July. New life. New friends. Guitar Man, even though I was a rank amateur. Somehow managing to court controversy by everything I did. Or didn't. The people who mattered didn't care though, for a change. Thank God.

August. September. October. More of the same. Parties. Friends. Enemies. Patch-ups. Phone calls. Recharges. Recharges. Recharges. Surprises. Fights. Irrational ones. Rational ones.

November. I have Direction. Interviews. Screwing up GDs. Again. Renault-Nissan. But accidents still happen. "Trust" is a small word, but heaven knows how much it signifies. Guardian angels. Superman still can't fly. But that's no reason to stop being Superman, is it?

December. "Now!". The tension. The panic. And the smiles. It IS worth every drop of sweat, every twinge of pain, every throbbing headache, every tired yawn. The smiles are what make them all worth it. Blank a week before the exams. Last minute swotting. "Screw this, I'm gonna do this my way." Surprise, surprise, it works. Counterstrike. "Fire in the hole!". Still works. "O Holy Night". Everyone stops chattering. Goosebumps. "Merry Christmas y'all!". All I want for Christmas is to go home. Home. "So this is what you look like!". Serendipity. :)

And now, checklist time.

• Nope. Still can't dunk. Can barely run round the court.
• Haven't got a Bucket List yet. Dunno why.
• Oh hell yeah, I can play Wake Me Up When September Ends! :)
• No, it's so not cool to lose my cool. Strikeout!
• I sing out loud. Everyone in the vicinity of C-25 will vouch for this.
• No maniacal driving. Don't feel the need to get anywhere faster than I can.
• Orkut kaput!
• The receding hairline is being successfully countered by longer hair. :P
• Mission IMDB 250 is going strong!
• Writing more often is something I promise to promise to do. :P

That's a fairly good strike rate, I think. Onward ho. I'm thinking, "Roll With The Punches" should cover all resolutions for 2011.

Stained

2215 hrs. 15 more minutes. “…washes the stain right off…” Why am I watching the Home Shopping Network? Click. “…meanwhile the race for President…” Click. “…que pasa…” Click. Click. “…Britney Spears declined to comment…” Great. Click. “…the clothes in lukewarm water…”

2231 hrs. The phone’s ringing. I didn’t realize I’d fallen asleep. “We’re downstairs. Where are ya, Johnny?”. “Coming”

“We’re making the drop at the St. Louis dock. North pier. Johnny, you and Castano, stay near the walkway. Pop anyone who comes out before me.”

2235 hrs. 10 minutes to drop time. Cold, cold night. Why would anyone want to be out in this weather? Why couldn’t they sit at home and watch TV? But again, with all the tripe that’s on, you might as well get out, make some money, pop some lead.

Franki was talking non-stop.

“…can’t believe Don Marco would’ve doubted me…”.

Yeah Frankie, you’d never let go of the chance to make a few more greenbacks, would you? So what did they pay you Frankie?

“…you listening to me Johnny?”.

Frankie was looking around at me from the front seat.

“What is with you Johnny boy? Too much television eroding your brain?”.

“I’m fine, just a bit…bit under the weather”.

“Under the weather. Under the weather? Who talks like that? I mean…”

2243 hrs. St. Louis dock. 2 Minutes to drop. “Alright, we’re here. Remember everything I told you. If I’m not back in 5, head back to the den, don’t speak to anyone. You hear me Johnny? Castano?”.

2245 hrs. Frankie was a nice guy. His only problem was money. He could never have enough. Don Barzagli had obviously seen this. Well in 5 more minutes Frankie was going to pay more than he could ever earn. The only problem was going to be Castano, the new kid.

“So Johnny, Frankie tells me you were out of town last week”.

“Mom’s sister’s funeral. Down in Texas”.

“Oh yeah? So how come I saw you down in Queen’s, Johnny? With Officer Barrigan.”  Castano was not asking, he was saying. I turned around as a gun pressed into my temple.

“You really thought I’d let you pop me off like that Johnny”. Frankie was walking out from behind the shed. “You think I didn’t know why you were here?” The gun muzzle felt icy against my head. “You’re a pathetic actor, Johnny, even with all the television you watch. Give Don Marco my regards”.

It all happened so quick. Castano’s feet slipped on the ice. He was dead before he hit the ground though. The gun in my hand was smoking. I fired a couple of shots at a figure vanishing into the dark. I heard the sound of a car starting. Tyres squealed on asphalt. And then I felt a warmth in my side. I’d been hit, damn it.

2330 hrs. Back home. Frankie jumped to the Barzaglis. They had men on the inside. Don Marco had known I was a cop. I was supposed to kill Frankie and Castano. But then I was still alive. It didn’t make sense. Christ, I was bleeding. I’d have to wash this T. Maybe I’d use one of them powders shown on TV. But it didn’t make sense. Why would Don Marco keep me alive knowing I was a cop? It didn’t make sense. Unless…

0032 hrs. They were showing Seinfeld on TV. Again. And then somebody knocked on the door. They’d given me an hour. I put my ear to the door, listening.

“Johnny, you there?”. Just as I thought, he’d sent dear old Iacquinto.

“…if you have blood stains on you shirt, maybe laundry isn’t your biggest problem right now…”  

“Fellas, break the door down…”

The Rhyme of Snobberwocky and The Beanpole.

A crazy attempt to cheer up a friend resulted in this.

The Rhyme of Snobberwocky and The Beanpole

Snobberwocky:
I will breathe fire,
I will chew you out,
And I'll vent my ire,
Without thinking about,
Whoever you may be,
Whatever you may say,
I will not smile,
I will only stare.

The Beanpole:
That's what you think,
I know it's not true,
'Cos I see a Titch,
Somewhere inside you,
A Titch that I know,
Who yearns to come out,
A Titch that The Beanpole,
Cannot be without.

Snobberwocky:
Silly little Beanpole,
Stand outta my way,
I'm cranky, I'm irritated,
It's just not my day,
Life's not all jokes,
And LOLs galore,
Life's about realities,
Don't be so sore.

*after a pause*

The Beanpole:
I might be silly,
But I miss the Titch,
And that's all that I know,
Not that any of which,
That you say doesn't matter,
I know it is true,
But remember the craziness,
That I shared with you?

Snobberwocky: 

*grudgingly*
Oh well, I do,
But that's not the point,
There's work to be done,
And words to be coined,
But I miss her too,
Maybe more than I say,
But I cannot be the Titch again,
I want to, but no way.

The Beanpole: 

*encouraged*
Life may not be,
All fun and jokes,
But as long as we can laugh about it,
and say "Holy Smokes!",
Everytime we mess it up,
And then get back on our feet,
That how it should be,
Dear ol' Snobberwocky.

What I've Been Up To.

Another prolonged disappearance, but this time, it's not just 'cos of laziness.

Find out what I've been up to.

Click Da Pic. 

We're All Super. Really.

Because, our real lives just ain't cool enough.

****************

Lord Of The Rings

JRR was a genius. Harry Potter ain't got nuthin' on Middle Earth and its names. Hell, even the bad guys sound cool. The "Orcs" sounded way better than they looked. And the "Uruk-Hai"? Wow. And then there were the "Nazgul". The places too. Minas Tirith. Rivendell. Elendil. Khazad-dum.

What would it be like to live in such a world? What would you be called? 

Find out using this LoTR Name Generator.

Smurfs

Tiny, bright blue, and running on seemingly unlimited banks of Duracell.

You'll need a really cool name if you look like that.

The Smurf Name Generator might help.

Superheros

Ah, of course. We all knew it. In fact, we believed it. More so, some of us still do.

All the vampires (or should I say Vampyres) started making their presence felt after Twilight was released. When Spidey saw tiny thingmajigs coming outta his fingers, we all knew we could scale walls too. 

Ah well, whatever makes you happy.

We're going to save the world. Over and over and over again. And there's nothing anybody can do about it.

Do you know why? 'Cos we're all superheros.

And this is what we'd look like. 

By the way, this is what I'd look like. And I'd be called "WingBlade". With the capital "B" in the middle. Yeah, I know.

Robots

Robots never go out of fashion. There's always a cool robot for each generation.

Which is why we're all robots. Really. Deep down inside, we go "tick tock tick tock" and talk to each other in monotones. And then we do The Robot Dance.

Your parents knew a thing or two before they gave you that name. Find out what it really means. You're a robot. Really. Are you ready for the truth?

Pokemon

The future of the universe is in your hands. Your weapon is the innocuous-looking mouse-pad by your side. When you throw it just so, plasma rays (..they're like, totally, supercool rays, mostly green, sometimes blue in color. Nothing, nothing, can stop plasma rays.) come out from the sides. And you become a two-dimesional, anime-d, Japanese cartoon, with your mouth stuck in "scream" mode. Forever.

Super Mystery Fireball Ignite!

Wait, doesn't somebody have to choose you?

Oh, yeah. Here you go.

****************

Aren't we kewl.

The Sesky Six.

Disclaimer: The names used in this blog are purely fictional, though the same cannot be said about the characters. Any resemblance to any person, dead or alive, is therefore purely intentional. The fine print is intentional too.

--------------------------------------------------

In a world full of Heroes and Villains, The Six blur the line that separates the two. Sometimes in the dark, sometimes in the light, they blend seamlessly into each. Talented. Powerful. Enigmatic. They are the Men Of Tomorrow. Well, most of them anyway.

Econo Mystery

On Friday evening, he disappears. Conspiracy theorists believe he teleports to the Magellan Constellation [citation needed]. Returns from his sojourns late, late into the night on Sunday. Sometimes by Monday afternoon. Hidden behind a shaggy mane, his face is as yet unseen by the world. As the end of the month draws near, he switches to a top-secret, highly specialized diet. He is mankind's answer to The Dragon Warrior.

"

Master Tigress : It is said that the Dragon Warrior can go for months without eating, surviving on the dew of a single gingko leaf and the energy of the universe.

"

Well, Dragon Warrior ain't seen nothing yet.




Gizmo Gadget
The ultimate gadget-freak. If it's in the market, he's got it. If it's not in the market yet, he's still got it. His shelves are stocked with "outdated" technology from 3015. 


His current obsessions include :

• an imaging device that actually transforms the surroundings into a place of the user's choice.
• a communications thingmajig that allows per second billing for calls to Alpha Centauri, and, dig this, teleporting.
• a Smoke Device made of Extraterrestrial Crystal. Technically, this is not a gadget. Ah, but who cares, woo-hoo!

Ex Crasy
Years ago, it was rumored that this guy was from another planet. He had the amazing ability to morph into yahoo-road-trip mode in 3.14159265 seconds.Yes, that is pi. Yes, he meant it to be that way. Once, he drank an entire bottle of Absinthe before embarking on a reading marathon that included "The Republic", "Les Miserables" and "The Complete Calvin and Hobbes Collection". Yes, he got through all of them before stifling a yawn.


But then, he met this girl.


Now all he does is shout "Twin-tailed Bushwhacker!" or "Fish-whupped Freefaller!" or something along those lines, every few minutes. Nobody knows what these words mean. But, he insists that in the cosmic sense, they are significant. Nobody knows what that is either.




Sai Lent Maan
He once survived an entire month on air alone. And then he slept. But then, a mortal dared to wake him up. The mortal was skadooshed into tiny, floating particles. 


He rarely spoke, but when he did, the world cowered in fear. He once reduced Hulk Hogan to tears by just looking at him. He was The One they all feared and revered.


But then, he started getting phone calls.




Sodio di Acqua
This jet-setting person lives a 365/24/7 life. Fridays are meaningless to this high-flyer. He is always on the move, sometimes at speeds faster than light itself. No one has seen him during the day. But at night, glimpses of this volatile individual can be caught by the flickering light of a 17" CRT Monitor. He comes, and goes, like lightning. Everything must be done fast, and NOW. And fast.

A repeat offender, he can be identified by his trademark, hedonistic, barf-inducing comments. To ALL photos. Afflicted by the Lastkeystuck Syndrome, his sentences usually end with multiple repetitions of the last character ("wowwwwwwww", "U know whaatttttttt").

Entire tomes have been filled with stories about him. New legends are written about him every day.

He is wanted dead or alive in 3 countries, and dead in 168.

Lightning Bolt Ed

His mind moves at speeds that even light cannot think of. Every decision is made even before the question is asked. Currently the owner of the fastest bike In The Entire Universe, he was pursued by Bajaj, to star in their ad campaign for The World's Fastest Indian.

For him, the past holds no meaning. He lives in the future. He sings songs from the future. His food is made in the future, and time warped to the present. He is The Future.

NOT!

--------------------------------------------------

Fiction! Fiction, I tell you!

We Didn't Start The Fire.

19 years ago. A series of events that eventually led to Ruchika Girhotra's suicide, were set in motion by the horniness of one man. After over 400 hearings and impassioned calls for justice, the Indian Judiciary finally sounded out their verdict. Six months imprisonment, and, dig this, a fine, of 1000 rupees. And that's not all. SPS Rathore gets out on bail almost immediately. All smiles.

18 years ago. Sister Abhaya, a 19 year old nun, went down to get a glass of water. She never got it. Her body was eventually found at the bottom of a well, in the premises of her convent. Evidence was tampered with. Evidence went missing. Sometimes brazenly so. For 16 years, the case was a mockery of justice.

36 years ago. Aruna Shanbag, a 24 yr old nurse at King Edward Memorial Hospital, Mumbai, was sexually assaulted by janitor, Sohanlal Valmiki. Using a leather belt to choke her into submission, Valmiki brutally had his way with her, after which he calmly disappeared into world. He was later arrested, but the charge of rape was never proved. Valmiki spent 6 years in jail for "robbery". And what of Aruna? The brain damage she suffered while she choked, left her in a vegetative state. She lives a shadow of a life in the same hospital where she used to tend to patients. She is looked after by the nurses there, who plead that she be allowed to live, despite many calls for euthanasia. Sohanlal Valmiki, long since free, is believed to be working as a janitor for a private hospital in Mumbai.

11 years ago. Model Jessica Lall is shot dead in plain view of the creme de la creme of Delhi's party circuit, by Siddharth Vashisht, aka Manu Sharma. Unsurprisingly, most of the witnesses turned hostile. Manu Sharma, used loophole after loophole and walked free. Finally, somehow, he was put behind bars. But, soon, he got out on bail. The reason? He wanted to party.

3 years ago. Aarushi Talwar, a 14 year student is murdered at her home. By who? The police points fingers at the domestic help, Hemraj, her father, Rajesh Talwar, and then goes on to add more names to the list as time progresses. Pretty soon the case fades into oblivion.

2 years ago. Pakistani gunmen open fire at crowded places in Mumbai, killing hundreds. Their faces are in plain view of the security cameras. Fidayeen are not meant to live through the attack. But Tukaram Omble gets in the way and one of them is captured alive. Ajmal Qasab spills everything from his nationality, to his past, to his training, in the frenzied initial stages of the trial. But slowly he learns of the innumerable loopholes in the Indian Judiciary. Pretty soon, the case assumes status quo. Already, two lawyers have been sent packing. The fires of Mumbai have died out.

These are only some of the stories that come to mind as I sit here on this cold night, a few days into a new decade. A million such cases lie unattended to in our incompetent courts. A million more never reach them.

"What will you do? File a case?" is a repartee that most auto drivers today use to silence newly-nicked car owners. That truly defines the competence of our judicial system, or the lack of it. The Indian Judiciary is the a punchline of a joke. It is without doubt the biggest failure of the Great Indian Democracy, for what is such a Democracy, that cannot protect the rights of her subjects, truly worth?

Welcome to India, where Justice is truly blind. Where killers laugh at the pathetic sentences meted out to them. Where they party on parole. Where character assassination by the police is a way of life. Where a rape trial is even more humiliating than the rape itself. Where money and might is what justice is.

"What will you do? File a case?"

"...the only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta, held as a votive not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous..."

 

I Promise...

...to not say "Twenty-Ten". Ever. It's "Two thousand ten".

...to be able to dunk again, by this time next year.

...to gruesomely deal with anybody who evangelizes to me again. It will be very unpleasant. Be warned.

...to write about the aforementioned evangelizing later this month.

...to write down a Bucket List, and then start working through it steadily. 'Cos, you never know.

...to learn how to play "Wake Me Up When September Ends" on the guitar before September ends.

...to lose my cool more often. It's very liberating.

...to sing out loud, instead of humming with the headphones on.

...to resist the urge to drive like a maniac.

...to stop using Orkut. It sucks.

...to not panic about my receding hairline, each time I look in the mirror.

...to work my way through the IMDB top 250 list.

...to get a REAL life. I heard they have everything on eBay.

...to write better stuff on this blog.

...to write better stuff.

...to write.

Promise.