In which I (re)discover I have a blog – 2

December 3, 2010 § 3 Comments

I am down with sinus. Again. It is one of those things one just can’t get used to. Almost like marriage (or differently sized testicles for that matter). You know it’s going to stay with you forever, and will be a pain in your ass time and again and make you feel all flustered and disabled, but you still gotta live with it. It’s another story that I feel like an outcast whenever I step out of the house, with all the protective layers on me trying to keep the cold out and I run into an off-shoulder garment wearing non-stick non-touchable hot girl with hands in the pockets of her shorts and Egyptian sandals. I am one of those men who accept that we are formed by the women around us.

But I have nothing against marriage in principle. In real life I am all for it. In fact just the other day I was riding next to a bus full of pretty and young things from Lady Hardinge Medical College. A flash from the past kinda thing happened as I remembered how I always had a thing for doctors. Basically anything remotely doctorish and female. I used to have these discussions with Maa when I was barely 12 about how I am going be this hot shot Computer Engineer and will land a charming and nice and warm and pretty doctor girl. I have grown out of it after dating a physiotherapist and a PhD (see ..both doctors), but the idea seems to have evolved with Maa whose only purpose in life before she retires from the active house managing life is to hunt for THAT girl. While her zeal for the project kind of scares me some times (because the prospective girl will have to live up to Maa’s expectations before mine), I also have a defense mechanism to ward off possible successful conquests – my Twitter stream. No girl in her mind would want to meet me for prospective matrimonial alliance after reading my tweets. Unless I have got women figured all wrong here.

So I have been watching Californication these days. I would say it is creepy how you can connect so deeply to a character in a TV show, but then one must always remember you are not the only asshole and definitely not one of a kind on the planet. Needless to say I’m all hooked to the series, given there is a naked breast popping out of nowhere every fifteen-odd minutes in every episode.

And I was supposed to give the IIM entrance this year. But I was conveniently in bed snoring my thundering sinus away waiting for the nymphomanical maid kid to come and make some tea. I guess everything happens for a reason. And I am happy not knowing the reason here until it presents itself sooner or later.

Which kind of throws me back in time a little. I remember myself as a very calculated person. You know the putting two and two together kind. While studying for IIT I used to derive the time I can invest to solve a problem after adding all the problems from the exercises across all the study material and dividing it by the minutes to the day of the exam. I was that freaky yes. Things changed a little after I came to IIT, I loosened up with respect to the ideal importance that should have been accorded to lectures and tests. And IIT Delhi was like the perfect place to delusion yourself. It made narcissists out of every Ram, Raheem and Harinder. There was some kind of pride associated with waiting in the bathroom queue behind an All India Rank 7. We went to lectures with some of the most unattractive girls of the nation put together and back in hostel we were exposed to a treasure cove of scripted porn with Casino grade assets women. IIT had the kind of girls you ended up respecting for all the wrong reasons – for writing fastest algorithms, for scoring an A while you bordered on flunking, for being able to talk to you and other men for years completely asexually etc. Anyhow, any more words and I am jeopardizing readership for the book that should be out soon in the next five years or so.

Right now the priority item on my list of to-dos is to get a full medical/dental check up done. I have been royally ignoring my health for a number of years now, despite having had gentle friendly warnings from people around me. I guess that Tata Safari Dicor ad can be blamed for ruining my good sense in this matter. I don’t think I’d like to remember working out in the corner of a shady gym, when I might very well be downing shots of expensive Mexican tequila in that fancy bar at TGIF. I mean comeon you health conscious people ..you are not going down in the annals of history with any more golden words than me.

Anyway, enough with all of that. This felt good. That is what sickness does. Makes you feel vulnerable and then something happens that just turns things around. Like a she friend going all ‘Awwwww’ and planting a more-than-friendly kiss somewhere on your face.

The point is ..I am happy to be writing again. Hank Moody, after all, seems to get all the girls with his words.

The morning after

August 21, 2009 § 3 Comments

I slept soon after writing that depressing post last night and intimating Disha (who had sweetly asked me to not be an ass and continue blogging) about the addition. Negativism characteristically dispirits me. Couldn’t bear to push my few readers through the same too.

So probably after a huge sense of guilt, I woke up at 4 in the morning. Partly also because I felt something brushing against my right hand which I think was royally twirled over my head beyond the bed post and almost touching the floor. Sudden panic is so not good at that hour in the morning, worse when you’re sick and in much-desired deep sleep. The sudden jerky motion that brought the top half of my body ninety degrees closer to the bottom could partially be regarded to the rat infestation in our house for the last few days. As much as I find these creatures cute for all visual purposes, I have no love to rear and nurture and feed the pests. We (hereafter referring to me [@nitinsgr] and my flat mate Nithin K D [@nithinkd]) had managed to catch four of the family with about a quarter of a Parle G in the space of one night. I had no clue about KD’s awesome creativity when it came to murder (too). He lit a smoky fire in an unused earthen pot, kept the catch in the cage over its face, and covered it all with a cloth. Painlessly asphyxiated with a little carbon monoxide. There are about half a dozen more to be caught and executed in similar or smarter fashion. Will keep you posted.

So this friend calls up very early in the morning, having just returned from a Sufi music night, and a shade too moved to sleep. Few minutes into the conversation and I figured (or she confessed) that she was a little horny after the experience and needed some incitement. Okay. I like this new job. Though I remember I conveniently killed her desires talking about my running nose and phlegm and grey cough. Sorry about that girl. Some other time may be.

Also met @ambikajoshi after a gap of two years. She’s grown fabulously hotter and prettier, except for the fact that her getup makes no bones about her being a mixed South Indian. I think somewhere along the long conversation I mentioned her coming across as partly lesbian. And I still think she has the coolest parents ever.

Mamta, my cook has been barging in and out while I’ve been trying to write cribbing about their being no aata in the house for paranthas. She’s the most unsentimental woman I’m likely to meet. None of my jokes work on her. The sneers she would welcome me with in the morning continue till she steps out of the apartment. I’m pretty sure she thinks I’m a nasty human being and if not for the money I pay her, she would cut my spleen out with her swordish hands and gaze.

I’ve taken another off from work today. Dad seems pretty convinced that I couldn’t possibly get swine flu, and so far it’s just a change of weather according to him that’s hit me. I agree with him due to lack of options. I would anyway hate to die after a cardiac arrest (learnt this morning that’s how people with H1N1 are going).

I’ve good reasons to start looking for the next job, as I approach the end of my one year in the present one. Plus a colleague at work did me a psychic reading and claimed my karma in India is almost done with. I was terrified in the way she conducted this session and so I don’t quite believe too much in her foretelling.

We used to have a lot of pretty girls coming in to Mr. Raghu Rai (my next door neighbor, and yes the acclaimed photographer)’s house all the time. I think they did not appreciate me in my expensive Levi’s denim shorts and just that as every morning I lay chase for them in the corridor with tea in an even more expensive Borosil glass. No footfalls any more.

My foot fetish has taken a beating off late. With winter round the corner, I hope the girls will cover up and all that would be left to see and admire will be the bottoms. And whatever has happened to these amazingly hot girls in Delhi! I mean where’s the factory that’s producing them in such huge numbers anyway! In fact I remember a bunch of eleventh grade students from a school for the excessively rich had come visiting us at work for I don’t know what academic reasons; and the girls there! I mean I did not notice when I switched from talking about software and IT to telling one of the girls how pretty her brown streaks looked! There are just not enough men to match up to these growing numbers of desirable women. Sigh.

Okay. Blogging is not a pain after all. I can be interesting. Right? RIGHT?

Favorites from ‘Abstruse Goose’

February 13, 2009 § 1 Comment

2009

January 1, 2009 § 6 Comments

Happy New Year all.

Having said that, and to some of you personally on sms, I realized how terribly useless some of us find to wish each other on days like this. I myself have never been quite a wisher in the sense of it as such. I remember when I got my first cellphone when I went to college (DCE, before IIT happened and then life would never be the same again), the number that I kept for four-plus years, and that super classy Nokia 3310 that lives with Mom now. The phone made me real popular, thanks to that game of snakes that was such a fun reason to spend hours in my furnished room as I grappled with my JEE books, trying to look focused and force people into shameful exit. Back then receiving a call cost you 7 bucks a minute, and making one about 10 I think. The latter is still pretty much the same for the overwhelming majority of calls made from my phone, but anyway. In those days, 4-5 years I’m talking about basically, I used to send perhaps three of four smses, and that was all the happiness I could spread at the cost of my own on New Years for example. It’s unbelievable now how one recharge would last me a month easily. A missed call from home meant I must show up at the telephone at the guard desk. I wouldn’t pick Dad every day because it cost him his own money and left a sorely disappointed me after every *123#. The idea of instilling a sense of frugality as a consequence of such rationed actions, hasn’t unfortunately gone as planned. It has made some mentionable impact though. I marvel at my remarkable capacity to squeeze all that I want to say in the space of 160 characters provisioned per sms by our carriers. And by squeezing in I mean till the last drop. I’m not a happy person if an sms I send has space for few more characters and I can’t fit in anything sensible. It has been a lot of effort and practice with the girlfriend of two years, who I’m sure hasn’t noticed this penny-wise-ness yet. Never mind my dear. I hope we stay together long enough for you to completely realize how wickedly insane I could be.

So getting back to wishing people. Clearly these days most young people don’t make much sense of the act. Young on Orkut once, I used to walk around in a princely gait after I’d received 100-plus scraps on such occasions. It was nice to know that people cared, even if more than half had just remembered you because you happened to be on their list while they ventured to spread greetings serially. But it has all changed now. I made an exception this year. I tried to remember people I had not spoken to in the last six-months or year. At least one person was pleasantly surprised, while there were few ‘Thank you. Do I know you?’! I used to be this person once. I would just give, and expect no return. I don’t know when this changed. And I can’t say if the present liberal state of mind would stay.

Though I can confess I’ve been happier with life in general of late. I have been given/gifted a gorgeous Apple MacBook, the aluminum-cast one-piece object of a nerd’s desire. I got new blades for my razor, and suddenly day three after shaving has this sexy greenish stubble that has me drooling over myself. I have totaled Dad’s new car beyond 5000 kms. I watched Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi and Ghajini, both first day first shows, the first time in my life, and this being exactly the kind of thing(s) I say you must do with the one you love. Somehow being crazy together does bring two people really inseparably close. You can’t win with the mundaneness of life anyway, so some little cheer and fun and laughter with a special someone is all you ever ask for. G, the girlfriend so far in the post, has been with me this entire December (that must partially explain no posts in the last 31 days. I wasn’t thinking of anything else). Being with her, and some external influence in terms of ideas about where my life is going, and aging itself, made me realize how simple and materially uncomplicated I want my life to be. And I believe that is ultimately what we all ask for. It is rather unfortunate, and I really mean it, that most of my closest guy pals have been unlucky in love. So far that is to say. I know these guys will make some girls very lucky (however dumb that sounds), but it just hasn’t happened. They’re so ready to give and take love and get into relationships to take things ahead. Anyhow, I guess no one really gets it all. You gain some to lose some for a while.

I was also catching up with a friend from school after like six years. And one of the things she asked me after we had talked about the rest of the world and where all we and everyone we knew had been all this while for an hour, was if I still dressed the same as in school time! Something tells me I should have studied a little less in the 1990s, and looked a little more after myself. I knew most of the good girls, I mean pretty or intelligent or both or plain desperate, more than liked me. But they all just stopped shy of something. I think I now know how my seemingly lousy style of dressing up killed those sweet love stories that could have been.

One of the two wonderful things I have to look forward to this year is staying in Delhi at least for the next year, doing a job job. I’ll tell you more as things roll on.

My folks deserted me on yet another vacation to the North-East end of the year. Not that I regret not making the trip. I think at times I just miss spending more time with them. Me and my emotional baggage!

Anyway, I haven’t quite figured out how, if at all that is, I’d like to change things about my life this year. I began the year visiting a Sai Temple and later praying to Radha-Kishan, Sita-Ram, Ganeshji and Thakurji, something I’ve never done before. I did not ask to be made a better person. That kind of objectivity is too difficult for even the Gods to understand. I had specifics in mind this time. Perhaps this way it’s easier to work for changes. Perhaps I must stop here and not ward you all of for the whole of this year. Have a good one my friends.

Conversational gaffes

November 19, 2008 § 2 Comments

So basically, I must be a horrible talker..!

Kids

November 14, 2008 § 4 Comments

kids1

Sabeer’s crying at this Microsoft wisecrack!

November 5, 2008 § Leave a comment

“We’ve designed Hotmail storage to grow with you, but at a reasonable pace. That means you should have plenty of storage unless you suddenly want to store the planet Jupiter on Hotmail, in which case we’ll send you a nice e-mail asking you to please not try to store planets on Hotmail (although gradual storage of planets, moons, and asteroids is ok).”

Either way, I like the new Hotmail.

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