Wake me up when Sunday ends...

Sunday afternoon. Boring Depressing Nostalgic Confused Sunday afternoon. The Sunday which seemed so lucrative in my childhood days. The Sunday which has now become nothing but a buffer between Saturday and Monday.

Mom, dad and didi's wake up calls have been replaced by mobile alarm. Chitrahaar, Jungle Book and Shaktimaan have been replaced by Facebook, Blogger and Youtube. Early morning cricket has given way to early morning CAT coaching. Samose-jalebi in bed is now but a distant memory.

Still, I wait for Sunday with the same impatience and zeal as a decade ago.(I believe every human being is hard-wired to do that). It's just that when Sunday finally arrives, I don't know what to do. On the rare ocassions when I realize what I want to do, it's already Sunday evening!

Photography, reading and blogging are good. They keep me sane. But, I want more. I need more. I don't know what I am missing out on. But I do realize it's a huge miss. Beacuse I feel restless. 

Family is 1200 kilometers and 17 long hours away. College friends, well, to say the least are preoccupied(with booze, late night gaming, worthless rantings-in short,everything I don't approve of as 'entertainment'). I don't have a girlfriend. And I thank God for that. Because even when I had one, my weekends were nothing but a marathon phone call...usually ending up in a quarrel over some trivial issue. So, I guess present situation is still better than that mayhem. School friends, I guess took the meaning too seriously. Their friendship ended(almost) no sooner than school did. Most of them have found new lives,new friends, new circles. A little FB chat every now and then is all I can claim out of their busy schedules. But I don't blame them. I can't. I shouldn't. One of my best friends from school( or so I thought) ended one such conversation on the excuse of going for lunch. After two minutes, I could see her application popups on my wall. Several of them, one after another! Hah! Could've told me to buzz off straightaway. Why this pretense? 

But I don't want to single her out. She is a part of a larger group of people who occupied my life and my memories. And now they all seem to be in a rush to get out of that life and those memories. Strange!

Anyway, I think it's just that phase of life that people talk about. When you realize who your real friends are and all that stuff. And waise bhi all this emotional atyachaar is not my cup of coffee. I feel bad, but I know that I'll get over it as soon as I spew it out here on my blog! That's the good thing about me. I have an emotion-control button in my system! (How else do you think I survived 2 rejections and 2 breakups?!!)

PS- One thing I like about my room is that I get a cool breeze on my bed 24X7....I guess I'll rather sleep out this Sunday afternoon than ponder over useless thoughts about useless people!

The 'misscall' generation!

Saturday morning is not just any morning.It is a very special morning.You don't have to worry about getting up late. You know that tomorrow is Sunday. And this knowledge is a heavenly experience. Even if you are getting up early (like me) you know that you have the whole day all by yourself.

So in lieu of this realization, I was quite happy and relaxed this morning. Until my eyes fell on my phone. 2 missed calls. One of them from a batch-mate who lives 2 rooms down the wing. The other from an unknown number(the usual suspect was the melody-queen sales representative from Airtel).

I hate missed calls. There is something about them that annoys me to the extent of paranoia. Just think about it. 2 rooms down the hall! The guy must have woken up, searched for his phone (because engineering students have their rooms REALLY messed up), searched for my number(until and unless he had me on speed dial,which I highly doubt) and then wait for me to pick up. Couldn't he just get up from the bed, come out and knock on my door? No sir, he wouldn't. Why not? It is because he belongs to the 'misscall' generation.

(You must be wondering what about that AIRTEL nightingale. Well, we can forget her for a while, even though she is guilty of another serious offence.Right now, let's focus on these guys and girls who at the first hint would give you a 'misscall').

For the Generation 'M', a misscall is a modern day 'Brahmastra'. For these people, misscall is a boon. Misscall is a lifesaver. For me, misscall is everything it wasn't supposed to be. Have you noticed how numbers are exchanged these days? The archaic tradition of 'You give me yours,I'll give you mine' has been silently replaced by 'You take mine and give me a misscall'! I would rather smash my phone on your head than do that, you lazy moron!

The most commonly heard phrases these days- "Hey, give me a misscall when you reach destination X", "Hey,give me a misscall if the professor comes in the class", "Hey, give me a misscall if you see Miss. X at the library", "Hey,going to the mess? Give me a misscall if the food is shit!".... Hello! What's the f*** is going on? Don't you get it? It is supposed to be a 'missed call'. One that is missed out on. Not a deliberate act emerging out of lowly money-saving thinking and lazy asses!

And then there is a species whose entire existence depends on these misscalls. You guessed it right. I am talking about 'The GF's'. Boy oh boy! Any CEO could take a tip or two from these lasses on how to cut down on costs without affecting 'customer' relations!

All they have to do is make a 'sweet' buzz on their honey-bunny's cellphone. And the rest will be taken care of. Why lady? Why don't you make a full-fledged call? Ever??? And poor chaps, they have to be constantly watchful. Why? Because if they actually miss that misscall, then hell hath no fury..... Believe me, it hurts me a lot when I see guys calling back their GF's instantly, mostly to hear their cribbing or worse, their scoldings. Phew! If only God gave us     guys the same tacts as our Venusian counterparts...

But, the reason of my hatred is more to do with the doer than the deed itself. A misscall (not the actually missed call) raises many questions about the callers character. Is he a miser? Is he too lazy to actually make the call? Is he an illiterate who doesn't know how to execute the entire procedure of cellphone conversation? Or is he a miscreant who couldn't find a better use of his time? In any of the above cases, the caller doesn't deserve a call back. So to hell with you, Mr./Ms. Misscaller! 

This trend would have been understandable a decade ago, when one cellphone call would cost a fortune. But today? I mean come on, calls are cheaper than matchboxes and chewing gums. So what's the excuse, huh? There is none. So, next time you pick up the phone, please go ahead and 'make the call'!

PS- Why do people keep saying "Misscall maar dena?", "Misscall maari thi?" etc. It is annoying like hell. Shoot me with a bullet, but please 'misscall mat maaro'!!!!

Of names and nicknames...

"Chunnu"- my mom called out in the middle of a busy street. I looked around, everyone was looking at Chunnu. And Chunnu wished that he would just vanish in thin air. I looked at my mom. Her innocent face wiped away most of my anger and irritation. Still, I walked up to her...

"Mom how many times have I told you that I don't like to be addressed by that name", I said with a frown.
"Why? What's wrong with that name?", mom asked.
("It sucks BIGTIME!",I thought)
"Everything", I said.

It reminds me of those nursery ryhmes wherein our protagonist would either be fighting with his more pathetically named brother, Munnu, over a silly rasgulla, or he would be doing some other stupid thing. STUPID CHUNNU! I don't want to be stupid!

Anyway, don't think mom stopped calling me by that dreaded name since then. She can't. She has been doing it for the last 21 years. Old habits die hard. This one would surely attend my funeral. Relatives would be crying and saying, "Oh dear Chunnu! Why did you leave us?"

One of the worst nightmares of my life is that I am rich and successful.(That's not the nightmare, that's the dream). I am getting some big honour and my mom is sitting in the front row and clapping.(That is also a part of the dream). Then suddenly she stands up and shouts-"Well done Chunnu!". The whole auditorium is silenced. Then everyone burst into laughter and the whole world comes to know about my disastrous nickname. Can you imagine my life after that? THAT IS THE NIGHTMARE!

And what if anyone from the family calls out my nickname at my wedding? The bride would surely run away. Whoever would like to get married to Chunnu?
I remember how I saw this hot young girl at my cousin's wedding. But before I could make a move, my dear mummy called out- "Chunnu, mere liye 1 plate dahivade le aana"!
I am sure that girl must've thought I am the family servant, who has been dressed well for the occasion. The last I saw of her, she was looking at me disgustingly and I felt like I was the most miserable thing on the planet.

Why Chunnu? Why not any other name? Varun is a pretty small name itself. And it also perfectly cancels out all possibilities of public embarrassment.( Until and unless, someone pronounces it as Barun. My school rickshaw wallah used to do that and most of my relatives from rural areas still make that costly error...)

"It is a sign of affection"- says grandma.
"It is a sign of the worst form of mental harassment that could be inflicted on a human being"- I cry out.(Figuratively, that is)

I believe the biggest insult to someone is to pronounce their name wrongly. And you can totally demolish them to the point of no return if you have given them a nickname as stupid as mine!

Whatever I do, my family and relatives are not going to change this habit.Not that they don't want to, but they can't.
I have to carry this curse my entire life...maybe in my afterlife as well!


PS- All you Golus, Bittus, Babloos,Chintus,Chinkus....amongst many others...I understand your pain!
But Shanky, I can't even imagine what you go through! (I mean, come on man, people give their dogs a better name!!)

Jottings in the book

I have decided that I am gonna discontinue the Blast from the Past series.I thought writing about those incidents would help me overcome them. But, now I think not writing will do the trick(hopefully)!

Also, I have decided to blog about one contemporary issue every week. I think there are a lot of issues I should/want to/need to speak about, besides my own life.

And, then I've also decided to write a satirical/sarcastic blog on Sundays.Nothing fancy, just an elongated quip on a random topic.

And I am thinking of starting a new fiction series....still in it's nascent stage though....will keep you all posted about that.


PS- Finally it's raining in Dhanbad! *ear to ear grin*

Uploading pics on FB? Be ready to lose a friend!

The culprit image(or should we say the 'victim image')

 

The comments that followed...                                                         

Friend 1-mafia...!!!!...

Me- bad boy!

Friend 2- he he he !! timepass !!

(Ex)Friend- chamaar...(cobbler/Dalit sub-caste…a common slang in India)

Friend 3- luchha......(cheapstake)

Me-‎@(Ex)friend -ya ryt luk who's saying that? jealous hmm?? :)

(Ex)Friend- photu khichane shock hame nahi hai....(It isn’t me who’s interested in getting snaps clicked)

Me- ya probably coz u knw ur face ain't worth a pic! :P

(Ex)Friend - atleast i know it..u don't even know... :P  and dare to question on my blog(The blog being talked about)....f u..i told abt it earlier(thesaurus)

Me- ohh so this is the reason of ur frustration! I see....u knw u shud accept it too...u ain't worth a pic or a blogpost either! :P

(Ex)Friend- mofu....i didn't see that comment when i made the comment....shakal hi teri kuch aisi hai..kya batau..(your face is like that only,what can I do?)

Me- hahaha....seeing u this much frustrated makes Melaugh even louder...poor little thing! go hoMeto mommy and cry out kiddo! ole ole koochi koochi!

(Ex)Friend- m nt frustrated..... chamaar....

Me- oh yeah...gt no other insult in ur bag huh?abey maine suna aaj friend 4 ne tujhe pel diya! (I heard friend 4 beat you up today!) :P

Me-‎(LOL)

(Ex)Friend- friend 4 mujhe kyon pelega be(why wud he do so?)....and i don't lyk to strip anybody on a social networking site... :P :P

(He doesn't like to strip anyone on social networking sites...Ironical,isn't it??!) 

Me- oh yeah...u ain't gt the freaking balls to do tht geeko! And I heard ur blog was being banned for plagiarism!!! is it true?

(Ex)Friend- never..

Me- wht never? u ain't getting balls ever?

(Ex)Friend- do u have balls to face any difficult situation..the one u told me durin lunch..u fucking moron..u quietly pulled back....never know ur capabilities

Me- ooh....cheap shots...cuhmon (ex)friend u can do better than that!

(Ex)Friend- no i can't..happy with these words...u r nw evading frm the topic....nthg's cheap..u have a price to pay for evrything..see its my modesty to not write wat the incident was all about...

Me- go on write it...u knw u r acting so kiddish...goes on to show u can insult others but can't take it on yourself! ever heard the word 'hypocrite'??

(Ex)Friend- of course why should i take an insult.... and what for??

Me- leave it yaar...u r really sound so stupid ryt nw....seems like u r taking out ur frustration frm sum other incident here....

(Ex)Friend- yes...happy...this is what u want to here..and this is my last comment

Me- Thank God for tht! coz I was sick n tired of making fun of you anyway!! :P

My roomie- kya bc hai?bachhey ko chhor bhi do yaar (WTF? Leave the poor kid alone)

End of discussion!

PS 1- I had put up this pic(among others) with immense pleasure! I know they were kidding(were they really?)..but still it hurt bigtime!

PPS- After this the (ex)friend went on to remove me from his FB friend list…wow! Thanks man, because when you did that you just proved it you were never worth my friendship!

'Litti' in the rain

Have you been out in the rain lately? Oh, I am sorry...I asked the wrong question. Considering it's India we all are living in, I should first ask, has it rained at all where you live? If yes(miraculously!!) then have you drenched yourself in it?

I did. After a long time. For a long time!

Saturday Afternoon. I had returned from a 4 hour marathon IMS class. The food as usual looked inedible.
Then suddenly something inside me( most probably my stomach) said I should go out and eat Litti-Chokha( a traditional Bihari dish...one of the few good things I have discovered during my stay in Dhanbad). I oblidged. It was around 2 and the chances of getting the prize were slim(usually the natives go crazy for LC's and devour like 2-dozens per head at one go!). Anyway, off I went( I usually go out alone...not a spooky loner kinda way...but things just fall into place that way).

The first drop fell...on the forehead. Second closely followed and touched the tip of the nose. Soon enough it was all over me. Rain!
From that moment onwards whatever happened on that day is way to much for words...so I'll go for it in this fashion...


Running in the rain, avoiding some puddles, landing in others!

Raindrop splashes on the face while sitting in auto...reminiscent of the ride back from school during monsoons!
Fare- Rs. 4        Feeling- Priceless!

Hurled abuses at a car driver(alongwith the auto-wallah) who drenched me and him in muddy water...
Expenditure- Zero       Experience- Most enjoyable!

Hot Litti-chokha in a cool breeze...
Cost-Rs. 36        Taste- Unforgettable!

Smell of ghee and wet soil intermixing in my nose...that nostalgic feeling of home!
Price- Included above!           Payback- Enticing!

Being completely indulged in food, licking fingers, forgetting about onlookers!

Being single...not missing someone...and actually enjoying every moment of it!
Money- Nothing              Meaning- Everything!

Coming back all drenched...warm bath...drinking coffee and writing this blog... Priceless! :)


PS- Make sure to wash your hair after playing in the rains, they curl up and become a mess really! :)

Kappa

I ‘met’ a dog today. 

The reason why I say ‘I met a dog’ and not ‘I saw a dog’ is that the dog I met was no ordinary dog. He was a special canine.Very special. He could talk!
Actually, I was on my way to attend the day’s lecture when he stopped me from behind to ask what time it was.I was startled at first.But then he appeared so casual, it made me feel like a dog talking to a human was as natural a phenomenon as, say, old men belching loudly after meals.
“I must rush. Actually, I am late for my lectures”, he said in a hurried tone. Lectures? WTF?Which dog attends lectures? He appeared to be more confusing than any professor I had come across in my life.
He comprehended the look on my face easily.“Don’t be surprised! You think only you guys have brains? We dogs are also very civilized.(Yeah right, that’s why you don’t have toilets and shit on the streets!) My name is Kappa”!(Okay, now I started to believe the ‘civilized’ thing!).”Listen, I am getting late so I guess we’ll catch up later”, he said and was about to run away when I called out to him loudly. “Hey Kappa, come on man. We seem to be mixing up well. Let’s have a cup of coffee and some biscuit leftovers!” He seemed to be offended by the leftover remark, but he agreed anyway. “The human behaviour classes are so boring anyway. What is there to learn about them? “, he smirked.It was my turn to be offended.
During the chat I came to know a lot about him. He was the smallest in his family. He had been good at studies since childhood. After school finished, Kappa’s parents made him give the CIT-JEE (Canine Institute of Technology…..). Kappa came out with flying colours, got into CIT, along with other ‘cream canines’ to embark on a journey to become what every canine parent dreams of for their puppy- a Caningeneer. But CIT was no ordinary place; Kappa had to face extreme competition. At times, he said, it was too much to cope up with. “Only last year, one of my seniors committed suicide by allowing a truck to run over him”! Plus the other devil was expectation. ”My parents are always asking about my CGPA(Canine Grade Point Average).They want me to be the best. So does everyone else’s parents. Someone’s expectations will be shattered. Nobody wants their parents to be that someone”, he said in a low tone, reflective of his dismal performance in the exams of late.
But he had managed to live with it. ”It isn’t total gloomy doomy after all. We guys are good at seeing the upside in everything. We make fun of professors, bunk classes, eat out at the best garbage joints, check out nice bitches (no pun intended) and make the most out of this time of our lives. Although, the fine line between fun and foible is crossed easily. Cigarettes, beer, drugs…you know what I am talking about”. (Hah of course I know, we invented these things you dog!).
He continued…
“You know, placement is not a problem. These days the market is booming. Domestic sector is always an option. Security and Investigation agencies go for the best in the batch, but for a mediocre like me, there are other options like join CIT coaching institute. And these days, many of us also go for the CAT (no pun intended, again) - Canine Admission Test for CIM (Canine Institute of Management). Many others go for CPSC (Canine Public Service commission).And the worst of the lot become professors! (Seriously no pun intended, this one’s a direct remark!)”
“Okay now I’ve already missed one lecture, I can’t afford to miss this one or I’ll fall short of attendance!” he said and ran away.
I was busy pondering over his story and drawing comparisons….

2 weeks in Hell!

14 days...336 hours!
It seemed like an eternity.Rewind 2 weeks: Everything normal. And then suddenly, he went away.Nobody knew what happened to him. Even I was unable to find out what made him go away. And his unexpected departure had left me in a shock...and pain.
I couldn't sleep at night.All through the day, I kept looking at his image in my mind. I had been really close to him.He had been like a guardian to me. Always there to comfort me in my times of distress. We had spent a lot of time together. But amazingly, we didn't talk that much. He was always in my room. The three of us(me, Vikas and him) were almost inseparable.
On that unfortunate day, Vikas returned to the room late at night. He switched on the lights and found him motionless. He tried to wake him up but he was already gone. I was on my way, returning to college after summer vacations when all this happened.
I was the last one to know about it.
Friends came in my room and consoled me. Some told me to move on, some gave the usual 'adjustment crap'. The warden too was worried about my condition. He called me up and told me he would do his best to find out what had actually happened.
I was lying on my bed, thinking about him and the time we had spent together.Sudennly, Vikas entered and shouted...

" Abey electrician aaya hai, bol raha hai yeh fan short ho gaya tha. Abhi theek kar dega woh!!"

I was already jumping around.And why not?
'He'  had returned from the dead!