One of the most humongous problems among Night crawlers is food. of course a smoke is sometimes an issue but woh hostel hi kya jahan bhenchod sutta na mila (to borrow from a very lovable song)
for me the hunger limit is reached near around 2:30 am when Russia and Japan have been successfully conquered by Germany (talking about Rise of Nations here) and there are no more cruel demons running riot (read: assignments). Manipal is one of the few places I've been in where cheap, delicious and most importantly Junk food is served at all hours. granted there is only one place here that delivers at say 5 am but given a choice between a disco night out and burgers from this place, on a day that i need cheering up, and i would def opt for the latter.
among other things, there is something wholly reassuring about sitting down in front of ur laptop, put on an episode of ur favourite TV show and enjoy the quiet of night-time from the comfort of ur dorm room chair, while gulping down huge bites of burgers. i was nicknamed burger-dash by my friends in my first year and now i do profess my love for this remarkable creation of man.
before i get too hungry and eat my mouse..
talking about nightcrawlers in general, it is quite interesting to walk down the hostel campus area at such odd hours. there are only so few people there that you can pretty much tell what each one is there for.
theres the guys who've come for the exact same purpose as me, i.e. collecting food. each "collection" is unique in the nature of the transaction. occaisionally, the poor delivery guy, who's been running the route all night, weighed down by 7 other packs of food, will forget a bottle of cola. it irritates the hell out of u believe me. However, my tired out friend, i do have sympathy for ur job. to be delivering all those delicious meals is a job no self-proclaimed saint will ever take up.
You bring happiness to the NightCrawlers.
...to be continued
Friday, February 27, 2009
Rant 6: "No, see? you got beep"
Our college kicked off it's annual Media and Communication fest, Article 19 on the 26th of February. Among the many eminent personalities attending as part of the resource team (workshops etc) one perhaps stood out for the sheer amount of beeps he might have got on real broadcast television.
they also said that if u tried to play music from two different emotions, say love and anger then the music would jar and not be pleasing..or something to this effect.
ok moving on.
The time came to try this legendary Machine
and this is where it gets interesting
so enjoy...
the master and the slave machine
"oh praise the box"
"it works...I'll show you"
"see? you got music!"
"no, I'm telling you, this shit works bitch!"
"hmm...now what rhymes with shoe?"
"I'm getting too old for this"
"maybe if I sit here for a while"
"broken arrow here.. switching to laptop"
"hey...shit happens"
"ok techie team stand by"
Ladies and Gentlemen...the characters of "soL.O.S.T."
the fest aims at promoting free speech. hence on the second day, i.e. today morning, this company called 3rd thought entertainment. one of their pitches was an "XpresR" yes that is the spelling of this 
Machine (???)
They began by explaining how everyone has different emotions (and i thought I was good...man this was hardcore insight). hence they had a Machine which played music according to these emotions. ok kinda cool yes. we all love music.
Machine (???)they also said that if u tried to play music from two different emotions, say love and anger then the music would jar and not be pleasing..or something to this effect.
ok moving on.
The time came to try this legendary Machine
and this is where it gets interesting
so enjoy...
the master and the slave machine
"oh praise the box"
"it works...I'll show you"
"see? you got music!"
"no, I'm telling you, this shit works bitch!"
"hmm...now what rhymes with shoe?"
"I'm getting too old for this"
"maybe if I sit here for a while"
"broken arrow here.. switching to laptop"
"hey...shit happens"
"ok techie team stand by"
Ladies and Gentlemen...the characters of "soL.O.S.T."
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Rant 8: doubt
I have had quite a weird relationship with one of mankind's most pointless fascinations. yep i'm talking about everyone's favourite Reality show...the GOD show (not to be confused with GOD Tv though there really isn't much of a difference). i'm talking about the one reality show that didn't even need TV to begin with. Egyptians, Grecians etc made sure that we were all participants in this the mother of all shows.
Back when i was a kidI used to assume Mr. Gary O Donnel (the nice old man living up in the sky watching over me) was kind of a mean guy, punishing people with threats of hell for wrong stuff. so i did the necessary prayer time, at home, and mostly before exams. at that point, doing badly in exams was way way worse than say shoving the back-side of a pencil up ur desk partner's rear end...way worse.
i now realise that it was probably all the constant coaxing from my folks etc that got me the results i got...and not some 6X9 picture of a woman with ten hands. it's scary shit. i remember going to an Oriya association function one evening and the only thing i clearly remember is being shit scared of the black coloured statue of my people's god...Jaggannath. i was inadvertanly given the message of fear of the unknown by this statue.
as u can probably guess from earlier posts, i love "conversing". so now that i stand on a platform of uncertainty, i guess i have to take the matter up with the big G himself.
me: 'sup
G: How are you my son?
me: m doin' great. had some questions for ya though.
G: (sigh) what is it
me: how does one guy like you listen to the hopes and prayers of a whole fucking planet?
G: its a good trick u know. U dont really have to be listening even. my good friend, Mr. Bush and his dear dad made sure that my "message" gets through to everyone. that way when someone asks me for something (and this is by the millions everyday), i simply throw out random Yes's and No's. this way there's a very good probability that everyone will get somethi ng or the other that he/she asked in his/her lifetime. God bless America.
me: hang on...ur the god here i thought. did u just pray to urself??? and why does god feel obligated to bless only america. why not Jerusalem. I'm guessing the place where three religions were born should be a more blessed place than a place where crackpots like Joseph Smith emerged.
G: well you know, USA called dibs on me first.
me: dibs??? ok now this is getting silly.
G: It is. all of religion is just plain silly. take this conversation for instance. you feel like ur talking to god or someone right? wrong...ur always talking to urself. and for once, i'm gonna lay some truth on ur arse. this whole god thing is a sham. the little voice inside ur head talking to u, is ur own damn brain. Get over urself. all actions are either directly or indirectly a result of human action, and not a result of drinking my blood every sunday or lighting a thousand candles....i wouldn't even need candles if these stupid priests didn't put me in such dark corners of their temples.
and speaking of dibs, it is what politicians have always done. i'm sure u know how my good friend bush has made good use of MY concept and made life soo good for the americans. every social or geo-political master needs an element that binds his/her subjects; in order to acheive social control. apart from today's modern age, lets face it, when brother Ugger (pronounced ooo-ger) left for his morning hunt out of stone-age papua new guinea and saw his first lightning strike, he might have been just a little tempted to think there was more than just charged particles floating around. thus the first human Master emerged. and since it was Ugger who first noticed the lightning strike, thus emerged the first human Prophet. this cycle is repeated in every generation and it is how u end up with a thousand paths to the same frickin' destination.
Goddammit...it irritates me just to be talking about stuff which these idiots (the population) should have been clever enough to guess for themselves.
sigh....i guess man will always be man...and i will always be the product of a 21 year old's incessant uncertainty.
Back when i was a kidI used to assume Mr. Gary O Donnel (the nice old man living up in the sky watching over me) was kind of a mean guy, punishing people with threats of hell for wrong stuff. so i did the necessary prayer time, at home, and mostly before exams. at that point, doing badly in exams was way way worse than say shoving the back-side of a pencil up ur desk partner's rear end...way worse.
i now realise that it was probably all the constant coaxing from my folks etc that got me the results i got...and not some 6X9 picture of a woman with ten hands. it's scary shit. i remember going to an Oriya association function one evening and the only thing i clearly remember is being shit scared of the black coloured statue of my people's god...Jaggannath. i was inadvertanly given the message of fear of the unknown by this statue.
as u can probably guess from earlier posts, i love "conversing". so now that i stand on a platform of uncertainty, i guess i have to take the matter up with the big G himself.
me: 'sup
G: How are you my son?
me: m doin' great. had some questions for ya though.
G: (sigh) what is it
me: how does one guy like you listen to the hopes and prayers of a whole fucking planet?
G: its a good trick u know. U dont really have to be listening even. my good friend, Mr. Bush and his dear dad made sure that my "message" gets through to everyone. that way when someone asks me for something (and this is by the millions everyday), i simply throw out random Yes's and No's. this way there's a very good probability that everyone will get somethi ng or the other that he/she asked in his/her lifetime. God bless America.
me: hang on...ur the god here i thought. did u just pray to urself??? and why does god feel obligated to bless only america. why not Jerusalem. I'm guessing the place where three religions were born should be a more blessed place than a place where crackpots like Joseph Smith emerged.
G: well you know, USA called dibs on me first.
me: dibs??? ok now this is getting silly.
G: It is. all of religion is just plain silly. take this conversation for instance. you feel like ur talking to god or someone right? wrong...ur always talking to urself. and for once, i'm gonna lay some truth on ur arse. this whole god thing is a sham. the little voice inside ur head talking to u, is ur own damn brain. Get over urself. all actions are either directly or indirectly a result of human action, and not a result of drinking my blood every sunday or lighting a thousand candles....i wouldn't even need candles if these stupid priests didn't put me in such dark corners of their temples.
and speaking of dibs, it is what politicians have always done. i'm sure u know how my good friend bush has made good use of MY concept and made life soo good for the americans. every social or geo-political master needs an element that binds his/her subjects; in order to acheive social control. apart from today's modern age, lets face it, when brother Ugger (pronounced ooo-ger) left for his morning hunt out of stone-age papua new guinea and saw his first lightning strike, he might have been just a little tempted to think there was more than just charged particles floating around. thus the first human Master emerged. and since it was Ugger who first noticed the lightning strike, thus emerged the first human Prophet. this cycle is repeated in every generation and it is how u end up with a thousand paths to the same frickin' destination.
Goddammit...it irritates me just to be talking about stuff which these idiots (the population) should have been clever enough to guess for themselves.
sigh....i guess man will always be man...and i will always be the product of a 21 year old's incessant uncertainty.
Rant 5: out of my mind
random
me: guess wat?
mine: i get it...ur bored again...why this time though?
me: dunno...maybe its because I went through a rough patch recently. dont ask me how boredom is a solution for that though.
mine: ok come on. is that how u shud think? i mean look around u. the beauty of life, so much to do, see and hear. u know....................
me: &*)$%@#
mine: what was that?
me: nothing. enough ppl have told me life is all hunky dory. and most times, thats you. so i need to
GET OUT OF MY MIND
my first action of getting out of my head was to change the font that i write in
2nd solution was to ask a friend :
me: gimme a good topic to blog about
friend: well i like writing solutions to world problems
me: woah! that's a little heavy. how about i just write about what i think of when i'm drunk. trust me world peace is a big topic after 3 rounds.
friend: ya that would work as well. provided you gave legitimate feasible solutions.
me: ---------------------
friend: actually u cud just write random
now that's a thought
me: guess wat?
mine: i get it...ur bored again...why this time though?
me: dunno...maybe its because I went through a rough patch recently. dont ask me how boredom is a solution for that though.
mine: ok come on. is that how u shud think? i mean look around u. the beauty of life, so much to do, see and hear. u know....................
me: &*)$%@#
mine: what was that?
me: nothing. enough ppl have told me life is all hunky dory. and most times, thats you. so i need to
GET OUT OF MY MIND
my first action of getting out of my head was to change the font that i write in
2nd solution was to ask a friend :
me: gimme a good topic to blog about
friend: well i like writing solutions to world problems
me: woah! that's a little heavy. how about i just write about what i think of when i'm drunk. trust me world peace is a big topic after 3 rounds.
friend: ya that would work as well. provided you gave legitimate feasible solutions.
me: ---------------------
friend: actually u cud just write random
now that's a thought
Rant 4: Bad tennis players
I believe the sports world has the following two classifications amongst so many others.
Good Tennis players Bad Tennis Players
Disclaimer: this post is based on BTP, a class of "players" found as of today in Manipal. Any resemblance to groups elsewhere is purely coincidental.
further i pay homage here to Melvin and Jenkins from M.A.D. Magazine who epitomise the concept given here. any caricatures from fans of the same on these differences are welcome.
1) GTPs realise the importance of a good warmup before settling into the game.
BTPs realise that to be actually able to hold a racket long enough for a shot, you need to be a min of 4 pints (eqv to 2 shots) down. However, in the case of BTPs, there is not much of actual "playing" after the afore mentioned "warmup".
2) GTPs wear appropriate sports footwear comprising flat soles (for clay court play).
BTPs prefer a more hawaian approach, comprising the ever so indian hawai chappal and of course, the kitos, that probably went out of fashion even before the war on terror began.
3) GTPs know that a good swing of the racket is just as important as the point won.
BTPs realise that full body keanu reaves lunges are far more effective at popping the ball back (most often met with even wilder smashes)
4) GTPs playing a friendly learn to trust their opponents' line calls.
BTPs playing friendlies need not a reason to "fight" for every point...they just fight.
5) A 20 shot rally can be a great confidence booster for any GTP.
A 20 meter high shot landing in someone's toilet through the window is the high point of a BTP's day
6) GTPs know that the Tennis court is to be used for TENNIS alone.
BTPs realise 5 a side football is a better usage of the court.
...to be continued
Good Tennis players Bad Tennis Players
Disclaimer: this post is based on BTP, a class of "players" found as of today in Manipal. Any resemblance to groups elsewhere is purely coincidental.
further i pay homage here to Melvin and Jenkins from M.A.D. Magazine who epitomise the concept given here. any caricatures from fans of the same on these differences are welcome.
BTPs realise that to be actually able to hold a racket long enough for a shot, you need to be a min of 4 pints (eqv to 2 shots) down. However, in the case of BTPs, there is not much of actual "playing" after the afore mentioned "warmup".
2) GTPs wear appropriate sports footwear comprising flat soles (for clay court play).
BTPs prefer a more hawaian approach, comprising the ever so indian hawai chappal and of course, the kitos, that probably went out of fashion even before the war on terror began.
3) GTPs know that a good swing of the racket is just as important as the point won.
BTPs realise that full body keanu reaves lunges are far more effective at popping the ball back (most often met with even wilder smashes)
4) GTPs playing a friendly learn to trust their opponents' line calls.
BTPs playing friendlies need not a reason to "fight" for every point...they just fight.
5) A 20 shot rally can be a great confidence booster for any GTP.
A 20 meter high shot landing in someone's toilet through the window is the high point of a BTP's day
6) GTPs know that the Tennis court is to be used for TENNIS alone.
BTPs realise 5 a side football is a better usage of the court.
...to be continued
Rant 3: take a hike mister!
me: i'm feeling bored as usual
mine: take a hike fool....
yeah...thats about how i decided to take a hike. A very scenic place here in manipal is End Point. basically a long road leading up to a hill formation and beyond it lies a beautiful valley complete with a snaking river.
even though there is a sort of beaten track leading down towards the river, i stepped in (or stepped down) at a very random point much before the road ended. what followed was a jungle trek like no other i had been to.
first things first, i was completely alone. no guides unlike mmy first step down on a slopey track almost got me a head injury from a friendly rock.
mine: take a hike fool....
yeah...thats about how i decided to take a hike. A very scenic place here in manipal is End Point. basically a long road leading up to a hill formation and beyond it lies a beautiful valley complete with a snaking river.
even though there is a sort of beaten track leading down towards the river, i stepped in (or stepped down) at a very random point much before the road ended. what followed was a jungle trek like no other i had been to.
first things first, i was completely alone. no guides unlike mmy first step down on a slopey track almost got me a head injury from a friendly rock.
a friendly rock
However i was rewarded for my diligence in not falling down, by a very picturesque view of the river
a lot more of trekking later, i hit my first dead end. vegetation had taken over and i was forced to backtrack several times. there was an entire section of about 50 meters that was pure foliage and after crossing that i finally emerged at a high point some 300 meters from where i'd started coming down.
positioning
However i was rewarded for my diligence in not falling down, by a very picturesque view of the river
a lot more of trekking later, i hit my first dead end. vegetation had taken over and i was forced to backtrack several times. there was an entire section of about 50 meters that was pure foliage and after crossing that i finally emerged at a high point some 300 meters from where i'd started coming down.
positioning
further down and i encountered the first humans of my trek. 2 gardeners from the river side garden were taking a break from their work. the guy on the left happened to be smoking a beedi and i couldn't resist sharing a puff.
note to self: there is a good reason why modern science discovered cigarettes.
note to self: there is a good reason why modern science discovered cigarettes.
finally after much more ginger stepping down slopes, i made to the river side. a winding road led me to a temple quite beautifully situated at the base of a small hill and overlooking the river.
on a long and lonesome road
different "roots"
the temple at the end of nowhere
and finally...
the blessed river
on a long and lonesome road
different "roots"
the temple at the end of nowhere
and finally...
the blessed river
rant 2: night crawlers
yes...we are the night crawlers.
we form a small but nonetheless resilient batch of students who prefer to emerge from their precious watering holes after sundown.
more specifically, it is the time after around midnight, that hostel life seems most abuzz. starting off with some metalhead banging to really loud music and unbelievably unintelligible lyrics, we take our tour from the ground floor up. CS freaks gathered 15 to a room, connected not by Nokia, but the magic of LAN cables. emotions run high even as some poor sob got caught holding metaphorically his own phallus (actually it was a pointless pistol) against the guy with the really big machine gun. mothers and sisters get their usual dose of verbal "homage" as does the warden of the hostel.
our men are true citizens of the global world. every night is a new adventure in the land of Orkut and Facebook. Checking out the latest photo updates...ahem...as well as "status" updates is no mean feat. and our lads make sure that not even a minute is wasted in replying to the latest scrap
note to self: scrap chatting sucks! really pointless...i just dont know why these ppl..........ah to hell with it....next thing u know, i'll be ranting off!
moving on...
the eternal romeo. by the light of the room cleaner's dingy almost-orange-now bulb sits our man..one hand idly holding a phone to his ear. i was lucky(?) to be within earshot of one such romeo at about 2:30 am. and i swear on my aging keyboard, don juan de marco could not have done a better job on his lady as our man managed in less than 20 mins. quite evidently there had been a "major" misunderstanding between the two lovers. something along the lines of "you-sent-her-a-wall-post-with-a-smiley-on-the-same-day-that-i-got-your-lousy-beer-invitation" (ref to facebook issue). our man def had the rhetoric to get around most of her artillery shots. thus emerged a hostel hero.
and which hostel would be complete without the group of guys who believe that a birthday is a great reason to beat the crap out of you, pour water (inclusive of eggs, soap, shampoo, etc) on you, give u a cake (mostly around ur mouth) and then go crazy over the cheap beer that you managed to sneak in. as their coup de grace some decide the hostel corridors aren't clean enough and hence a hostel wide campaign of "Messiest hostel dustbin" is launched with the top 3 contenders getting the chance to dump their garbage in the wing of their choice. this particular ritual has of course been performed by one particular group that has for the last 8 months shifted locale.
the morning after
...to be continued.
we form a small but nonetheless resilient batch of students who prefer to emerge from their precious watering holes after sundown.
more specifically, it is the time after around midnight, that hostel life seems most abuzz. starting off with some metalhead banging to really loud music and unbelievably unintelligible lyrics, we take our tour from the ground floor up. CS freaks gathered 15 to a room, connected not by Nokia, but the magic of LAN cables. emotions run high even as some poor sob got caught holding metaphorically his own phallus (actually it was a pointless pistol) against the guy with the really big machine gun. mothers and sisters get their usual dose of verbal "homage" as does the warden of the hostel.
our men are true citizens of the global world. every night is a new adventure in the land of Orkut and Facebook. Checking out the latest photo updates...ahem...as well as "status" updates is no mean feat. and our lads make sure that not even a minute is wasted in replying to the latest scrap
note to self: scrap chatting sucks! really pointless...i just dont know why these ppl..........ah to hell with it....next thing u know, i'll be ranting off!
moving on...
the eternal romeo. by the light of the room cleaner's dingy almost-orange-now bulb sits our man..one hand idly holding a phone to his ear. i was lucky(?) to be within earshot of one such romeo at about 2:30 am. and i swear on my aging keyboard, don juan de marco could not have done a better job on his lady as our man managed in less than 20 mins. quite evidently there had been a "major" misunderstanding between the two lovers. something along the lines of "you-sent-her-a-wall-post-with-a-smiley-on-the-same-day-that-i-got-your-lousy-beer-invitation" (ref to facebook issue). our man def had the rhetoric to get around most of her artillery shots. thus emerged a hostel hero.
and which hostel would be complete without the group of guys who believe that a birthday is a great reason to beat the crap out of you, pour water (inclusive of eggs, soap, shampoo, etc) on you, give u a cake (mostly around ur mouth) and then go crazy over the cheap beer that you managed to sneak in. as their coup de grace some decide the hostel corridors aren't clean enough and hence a hostel wide campaign of "Messiest hostel dustbin" is launched with the top 3 contenders getting the chance to dump their garbage in the wing of their choice. this particular ritual has of course been performed by one particular group that has for the last 8 months shifted locale.
the morning after
...to be continued.
rant 1 : of inane questions and pointless answers...
so where do i start?
the other day i had the weirdest mental conversation in a while
me: I'm quite bored you know
mine: yeah i totally get you, there's not much to discuss
me: come on...gimme some ideas on what to ponder about
mine: hey...you're the one who has to do the pondering. this thinking about stuff to ponder wasn't in the job description i got.
me: maybe nuclear weapons...
mine: no wait, there's too much pointless debate over that already.
me: umm..how about AIDS?...
mine: nah too scary
me: oh yeah...even scarier than nukes? come on man...i'm losing you here.
mine: ok how is getting a scary-disease-that-lasts-ur-whole-life, while doing it, not scarier than going up in one whiff of smoke..or u know, weapons grade plutonium
me: hmm...you make a good point there.
mine: ------------
me: stop gloating u fool!
damn...
the other day i had the weirdest mental conversation in a while
me: I'm quite bored you know
mine: yeah i totally get you, there's not much to discuss
me: come on...gimme some ideas on what to ponder about
mine: hey...you're the one who has to do the pondering. this thinking about stuff to ponder wasn't in the job description i got.
me: maybe nuclear weapons...
mine: no wait, there's too much pointless debate over that already.
me: umm..how about AIDS?...
mine: nah too scary
me: oh yeah...even scarier than nukes? come on man...i'm losing you here.
mine: ok how is getting a scary-disease-that-lasts-ur-whole-life, while doing it, not scarier than going up in one whiff of smoke..or u know, weapons grade plutonium
me: hmm...you make a good point there.
mine: ------------
me: stop gloating u fool!
damn...
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