Puk-katha

E maa...chi chi chi!

2011-09-04T12:35:00.000+05:30

E maa..chi chi...shotti?
Tumi naa chokkobotti?
Sesh mesh goru aar beer
Bamuner pola nei kono fear?
Jaat ta to geloi..ebar jaabey libhar
Jaabi norokey with high feebar
Bhoga nei bolish..ram ram ram
Jai gonga joley korey aashi snan
Tor moto bitkel dekhlei paap
Chaya ta gaye porleo chaap

The Name-shake..

2011-08-20T10:57:00.008+05:30

These are the times of miracle and wonder. A political activist with no apparent agenda other than bringing down the rule of an inefficient arrogant out-dated party manages to do just that,voted to power on the tide of frustration and resentment of a people who have been oppressed for so long that they were desperate for a change.any change. And what better change can you expect than renaming the state to Paschim Banga? Just imagine the "administrative advantages" one would derive out of this. I can't foresee any with my limited mental faculties, hence I use the word imagine.

Most of us still say 'Calcutta' while speaking in English and we always say 'Kolkata' while speaking in Bengali.Similarly it has always been 'West Bengal' in English and 'Paschim Banga' in Bengali. What will certainly be pissing off is hearing non Bengalis (who can't speak Bangla) trying to twist their tongues and faces in coming up with multiple bastardized versions of the name. A common error most non Calcuttans make is that they think by trying to roll their tongues and turning all alphabets into a O sound, they can speak Bengali. So you get to hear 'Accha...you are from 'Kolkota/Kolkotta/Kalkotta..invariably followed by 'Aami Bongoli...Maach Khaabo?' ....or some crap like that. And all you can do is smile back in your best Dalai Lama smile while actually thinking 'Why don't you go and copulate with a rabid dog you fucking moron?'

Is the name change of the state a precursor of the greater things ahead in the days to come ? Like Calcutta being transformed into London, the Hooghly turning into the Thames..and perhaps if I may be allowed my share of contribution to the pipe dream- Howrah becoming Paris?

We have become cynics,all of us. No one really believes things will improve drastically.. No one has an idea of to what extent the core has rotted,no one really knows how retrograde the evolution has been. no one is willing to bet that he/she can return from exile as a result of a turnaround of the state, with ample opportunities for a livelihood.Having lived outside my home state for more than a decade now,its hard not to wish that I had the same opportunities back home as I do in this alien land living an alien life. But I guess till such time that I do get to go back, it will be just you,me and a wave of nostalgia from time to time in the sea of whining.

Keeping in touch,,,

2010-06-27T21:11:00.007+05:30

The get together was a great success in my opinion. Old friends, plenty of liquor, a good sprinkling of nostalgia..what else did you need? We were meeting after a long time, a couple of years at the least. We had a vague knowledge what was going on in each other's lives thanks to the menace of the social networking sites but none of us were really in touch with each other.Let me rephrase that...none of us were in touch with each other. We had no idea what was going on in each others lives except for the fact that X was married to a girl who looked like the offspring of Red Riding Hood's grand mom and the wolf(serves the uptight bastard right... I still remember flunking Class XI maths first term because the bugger wouldn't let me cheat from him!) , Y was the proud father of a gargoyle who (going by first impressions) definitely would grow up to become a pimp, Z had had his second divorce and was heartbroken (and by the time this post goes live would have told us for the one thousand three hundred and fifth time how much he missed his woobly poobly poo..or whatever he called his ex wife). As the party came to an end, and we got about trying to figure out which shoe went in which foot, someone remarked "Keep in touch... scrap at times!"

This is what "Keeping in touch" has become off late. A customary "scrap" once or twice a year,more likely or not on someone's birthday. A desperate attempt to hold on to a feeling you knew once could be described as friendship. Maybe in remembrance of a time both of you sat on a hillock watching the old couples do the the rounds of an evening walk while you hummed "Bookends" and your best pal told you that he was seriously considering investing in Bees for a lifetime. The sudden recollection of a fight you had with the kid who sat next to you in class II about something you just can't remember now. The thought of the dreamer in college who famously lead a bunk classes movement to protest against capitalism and later went on to become a hot shot investment banker. Hazy images from the past goading us to try and preserve the memories locked up in random cabinets of the mind.

Do you remember the last time you wrote a proper mail to a friend instead of clinically forwarding job leads and chain mails ? Does it even register in your mind that the more technologically advanced we get, the further we are drifting away from each other ? For all the Orkuts and Facebooks and Twitters of the world, nothing can replace the worth of a letter discovered between the folds of old sweaters smelling of moth balls, written a decade ago by a friend,with whom you used to share everything with at one point of time, now since relegated to the customary scrap on his birthday.

Times change. People change. The excuses for not keeping in touch get better and better with each day till a time comes when we just don't care any more. Don't let that time come. Get in touch... NOW !!

Wowbagger speak...

2009-06-14T14:28:00.004+05:30

Now this is something Calvin would love to know.They say that chickens came from dinosaurs.So what you get on your plate roasted to perfection from the grill could have eaten you millions of years ago,had you been alive.No cause for worry..In all probability you were just an insignificant speck of an amoeba then.Not that you are too significant even now,but thats besides the point.If you want to feel happy about yourself thinking you are the coolest of all beings,think again.Of all the species on this planet,we are perhaps the most vulnerable to elimination.That cockroach you killed yesterday has been there since the time of dinosaurs,and will be there long after a nuclear explosion wipes us all out.Most probably in a trillion years evolution would have played the same trick it did on the dinos,and we would we the size of chickens scurrying to save our lives from giant cockroaches.Or worse giant chickens!Maybe this is already happening in some planet in some universe.I certainly don't buy the story that earth is the only life supporting planet in the universe.Our technology and intelligence is just too primitive at this moment to find out or detect other life forms elsewhere. I don't know if the U.F.O sightings that have been reported are true or not.I myself saw a lion's face emerge from a nescafe cup once.O.K...It happened under the influence of some excellent herbs from manali...But it did happen.Or did it?As primitively developed as our brain is,it can play awesome tricks on you causing all sorts of hallucinations...Auditory and visual.What if someone told you that your entire life is a figment of your imagination? Yes,i do sympathise with you that your imagination is pretty fucked up if your life still sucks so much,but still..What do you? How do you know whats real and what's not? That cute girl next door who finally agreed to go out on a date with you just doesnt exist my friend.Neither does your ex girlfriend,your best buddy,your dog,the school teacher you had a big,big crush on. I am not saying you are the only one who is imagining things.I am not talking about schizophrenia out here.It's not so simple for that to set in,plus your knowledge of the subject would be from seeing a couple of badly researched films,so basically you understand crap about the subject!What i am saying is that not only you,but everyone around you see what you see,hear what you hear. With due apologies to Mr.Dawkins,lets call it the god delusion. Think abt it...Millions of ppl thnkng wht u thnk,feeling wht u feel.Just tht it doesnt exist. I'm sorry my friend..You've just been had. Or have been for the last whatever miserable years of your existance! Now if you had some sense you would be feeling more like a loser than usual,but that's your problem. You know what Arthur..You're a jerk,a complete asshole.

Maktub...

2009-03-15T10:54:00.005+05:30

We were sitting in a dimly lit pub at Alibaug,laughing at the jokes that Ajay was cracking. We had met him at the induction programme for our first job, and most of us had taken an instant liking to him.Without fail he would come in exactly 10 minutes late to every class,look at his watch and shake his head as if he couldnt believe he was late,then wink at us as he occupied a seat in the last row.From time to time he would pass an outrageously witty remark while class was going on and maintain an innocent face while the rest of us struggled to hold back our laughter.Outside class he was always interacting with someone or the other,spreading his good humour.

It was our last evening at Alibaug,the following day we would be going back to Mumbai to start our careers.The conversation turned to what we had done previous to joining a B School.There were a few stories passed to and fro,none vaguely interesting in any manner, then Ajay told us his story.

Ajay grew up in a small town in eastern Uttar Pradesh,the eldest of four siblings.His father worked in a small post in a government job and spent most of his time worrying how he would raise enough dowry to marry off Ajay's sisters.Ajay was written off as a no gooder a long time back by his family and relatives.He had flunked his board exams in the 12th standard,somehow cleared it the following year, and managed to complete his 3 year B.A degree in a span of 4 years. His friends comprised of mostly local hooligans and by the time Ajay scraped through his graduation,he knew more about country made revolvers and the intricacies of booth rigging than the subject he had graduated in.

One day as he was recuperating from a bad hangover brought over by the excesses of the country liquor of the previous night and his father's shouting the same day,Ajay chanced upon an article in the local newspaper which mentioned about the salaries drawn in by freshly recruited MBA graduates. Ajay thought that the figures were mind boggling. He began to imagine himself doing a MBA, earning a lot of money,helping out his father financially,redeeming himself in front of his family and relatives.The article had mentioned of some coaching instutes in Delhi which prepared you for MBA entrance examinations, and Ajay made up his mind to go to Delhi and join one of these institutes.

Ajay's father burst out laughing when Ajay informed him about his plan. A bad egg is always a bad egg, he said.A person who found it difficult to pass college would never get into a MBA college, and he was not willing to spend several lakhs on the whims and fancies of a son who had never done any good in his life. The money would be needed for finding a suitable groom for his daughters, Ajay could as well forget about this silly notion of doing a MBA for all he cared. He advised Ajay to apply for a government job as a clerk somewhere.

Ajay ran away from home the next day. He was carrying two thousand rupees in his pocket which a friend had lent him and set off for Delhi in an unreserved compartment. He had the phone number of a friend in Delhi who had promised in the past to help him in case he needed anything. Ajay reached Delhi and called up the number his friend had given him. It was that of a PCO.Ajay asked for his friend,and when he came on the line, informed him about his situation. His friend said that he busy and asked Ajay to call back in a few hours time. When Ajay called up again, his friend did not receive the call. Ajay kept trying for the next few hours, but didnt manage to get through his friend. Slowly realisation struck that he was standed in an alien city where he knew no one and had nowhere to go . For a brief moment Ajay thought about returning back home,but the thought of the sneers and the caustic comments of his relatives was enough to make him drop that idea.

Ajay called up another friend back home and managed to get the number of someone his friend knew who lived in Delhi. After another phone call and a bumpy bus ride to the outskirts of Delhi, Ajay landed up in the place where this person lived. The gentleman gave Ajay dinner and promised to help him out,but told him that since he lived in a one room flat with his wife, Ajay could not stay there. However,there was a godown next door, where Ajay could take shelter for a few days.Borrowing a bedsheet to put on the dusty floor, Ajay set off to make the godown his new home.Ajay spent the next two weeks roaming the streets of Delhi knocking from door to door at the offices looking for a job during the day and listening to the rats scurrying all over the godown at night.

After getting bit by the rats one night,he moved in with an acquaintance of the person who had helped him to stay in the godown.Ajay stayed in a small room with three other people,who made their displeasure very evident at the fact that he was staying there as a free lodger. They would order him around at will. He was told that he would have to sweep the floor,wash their clothes,do the dishes in return for staying in the flat. Ajay bore all this silently. He had no choice till he found a job.

A couple of months passed before Ajay finally managed to get a job as a salesman in the direct sales agency of a credit card company.His office wardrobe consisted of two shirts , two pants and a pair of shoes, all bought second hand from a pavement in Delhi. He would stand in the hot sun whole day pleading with passerbyes to sign up for a credit card. Ajay lived on a budget of 30 rupees a day for a couple of months. He would have puri-vegetables from a roadside stall for breakfast,lunch and dinner.At other times when he felt hungry ,he would have water.

Slowly Ajay saved up some money and moved into another room on his own. He was doing well at work, and got a promotion shortly.He allowed himself the luxury of buying a Reliance mobile phone to keep in touch with his family.The first time he made a call from the phone to tell his parents that he had bought a mobile phone with his own money, there were tears in his eyes.

The MBA dream still on his mind, Ajay went to a coaching institute and enquired about enrolment.He was told that he would have to pay an amount of twenty five thousand rupees for the course. Ajay was heartbroken. There was no way he could gather so much money to prepare in time for the MBA entrance examinations. Ajay went to another lesser known institute the next day and explained his position to the manager there. He asked for a discount and after a lot of haggling was allowed to join at a fee of ten thousand rupees.Ajay paid this in four instalments.

After attending a few classes at the coaching institute, Ajay realised that he would have to put in enermous effort to even come to par with the weakest of his fellow students. His major problem was that his education had been primarily in the Hindi medium, and communicating in English was a pre-requisite for getting into a MBA college.The teachers at the institute used to openly riddicule his accent and his shabby appearance,a few even wondered why he was wasting his time trying to become a MBA. Ajay fought on inspite of all the discouragement. He started reading english newspapers and magazines,underlining any word he did not undertand to look up in the dictionary later,kept on pestering his teachers to help out with any problem he was facing. He would wake up early in the morning to attend the coaching classes,then head off to work.At night he would stay up till late working on mathematics,data interpretation and english.

Ajay sat for the entrance examinations that year.The application forms itself cost close to a thousand rupees per institute, so Ajay just filled the form for the Common Aptitude Test conducted by the IIMs. He gave in his best effort, but was not able to make the grade that year.

He decided to give the examinations another shot the following year. He re enrolled at his coaching institute paying the same fees he had in the first year, and set off working harder than ever before.He started skipping meals in order to save up money to buy books for MBA preparations. He used to walk several kilometers a day in order to save the bus fare.That year he filled in applications for two more institutes apart from the IIMs.

Ajay got into one of those two institutes that year.When he gave the interview for the company which had recruited us, the interviewer commented on his English accent. Ajay replied that he could carry on giving the interview in chaste hindi without using a single word of English, and challenged the interviewer to do the same. He got the job. The years of struggle were over at last.

As Ajay finished his story, there was a silence in the table.As we went back to our hotel that night, we felt humbled thinking about his story.None of us had had to struggle even one hundreth of what Ajay had to in our lives.We felt happy that he had the courage to fight it out in order to realise his dream. Maybe it was written.

Feeling Lost in a City Under Siege

2008-12-05T15:22:00.004+05:30

It’s been a long day at work and you just need to unwind by having a couple of beers with your friend from college who is in town. He wants to go to Leopold’s, the popular pub at Colaba. You think about the beef chili out there for a moment, then refuse to yield to temptation. For some reason you don’t want to travel today. You meet him at a sports bar close to the office and have a great time talking about old times and catching up with each other’s lives. Your friend is in a touristy mood and wants to go to Marine Drive after you are done with the drinks. You turn down the offer again. Somehow, you are feeling too lethargic for words tonight. You decide to take a cab back home, even though a train would have been much faster and much more economical.

The roads are surprisingly empty at that point of time. It’s just 10 p.m., and usually Mumbai traffic is at its peak at this time. You don’t give it another thought. You will get to reach home in 30 minutes today instead of the usual one and a half hours it takes. A friend calls up from Bangalore to inform me that there have apparently been shootouts at Leo’s. A gang war or something, he says. You tell him how you would have been there at this time but decided not to go. Another call from Delhi comes just as you are about to reach home. There’s been a bomb blast at Ville Parle. A cab was blown up at a traffic junction. Alarm bells start ringing in your mind. You were in that very spot just 15 minutes ago.

Phone calls start coming in from friends and family members all over the country to find out if you are safe. There’s been multiple terrorist attacks at various places all over the city. Apart from Leopold’s Cafe, they have struck at the Victoria Terminus Railway Station, the Taj Hotel, the Hilton, some of the most prominent locations in Mumbai. You feel a shiver run down your back. Another close shave you have had tonight—Marine Drive is a stone’s throw away from these locations. It’s daytime in America and as the news reaches foreign shores, you start getting calls from Chicago, Boston, Seattle where your friends are based. It’s late in the night, but you can’t sleep due to the inherent tension in the air.

The following morning you decide not to go to the office. Admit it or not, you are scared to go out, scared that you might be the next victim of a bullet or a bomb blast. News has come in that some terrorists have stolen a police vehicle and are apparently on the loose in the city, gunning down anyone in their way. The death count has crossed a hundred and several hundreds have been injured. The terrorists have taken hostages at the Taj and the Hilton. They are singling out foreigners, mainly Americans and Britons. There’s a hostage situation at another relatively obscure building called Nariman House, which houses members of an Israeli sect.

The audacity of the attack leaves you puzzled and confused. This time, it’s not the common man on the streets who has been singled out for embracing the jaws of death. This time it’s the rich, the foreign tourist, the head honchos of multinational companies staying at the poshest hotels in town. The message is loud and clear. No one is safe anymore. The pictures of two terrorists taken by a security camera at the station further shock you. These are young men, barely in their 20s, clad in T-shirts, jeans and sneakers. Except for the automatic weapons in their hands, they could easily be mistaken for college students.

More than 30 hours pass since the siege—the terrorists still manage to hold the entire city to ransom. The streets are deserted, you hardly find any vehicles on the roads, the trains ply with a handful of passengers. There is a fear psychosis all around. You never know where and when they will target next. The only place you feel relatively safe is in the confines of your house. There are reports of fresh attacks in various parts of the city. These eventually turn out to be rumors, but by now you don’t know what to believe and what to ignore.

News that the terrorists came in from across the border and that the government ignored intelligence reports about a possible strike has not been taken lightly by the people. The citizens are teeming with anger. They don’t want to follow Gandhian principles any more, they have had enough. You pray that a communal riot does not break out in the city as it did after the ’93 bomb blasts that ripped the city apart.

Another agonizingly painful day goes by; the terrorists still hold out against the elite commandos who have been brought in to handle the situation. Finally, as you watch pictures on TV of the heritage wing of the Taj Hotel up in flames, the beautiful architecture raped by the assault of grenades and bullets, you hear that the Taj has finally been secured. You heave a sigh of relief, but then you hear reports that a few terrorists have managed to slip out of the hotel by pretending to be hostages.

You know the situation is better for the time being, but the hard fact remains that the city is still as unsafe as ever. It’s a cat-and-mouse game you will be playing with death each time you step out of the house. The vehicle you travel in might be blown up any moment; there might be a bomb explosion or firing in the market, the mall, the hospital, any place you might be in at that point of time.

At one point in time, you would have declared without doubt that Mumbai was one of the safest places in the world. Now you know you can’t say that. May the Mumbai I once knew rest in peace. Amen.

This article has got published in a newspaper called Berkeley Daily Planet in San Francisco on 4th December. Thanks to' Lois Lane' for contacting me and asking for an article. Here's the link :-http://www.berkeleydailyplanet.com/issue/2008-12-04/article/31716?headline=Feeling-Lost-in-a-City-Under-Siege

PDF version of the newspaper :- http://www.berkeleydailyplanet.com/pdfs/12-04-08.pdf

10...9....8....7....

2008-11-12T20:29:00.003+05:30

I am totally ashamed of not blogging for ages... will be back soon...Or lets say as soon as I find my way out of all this maze of confusion. Amen to that!!

Stool Pigeon

2008-08-20T00:40:00.002+05:30

They say a bird in hand is worth two in a bush. Bullshit! I do not want a bird anywhere near me, and certainly not in my hands. Don't get me wrong, I love birds, especially when they are cooked properly. Just that I have a problem with pigeons.It will probably go down in history that our man Sritanu was as brave as a tiger, but he did his best to avoid pigeons in all forms,shapes and sizes.

Lest anyone think that I am scared of pigeons, let me put the fact straight. I am not scared. I am terrified, petrified, mortified by them! Especially when they sneak into a room through an open window and then struggle to find their way out,their wings flapping with that scary sound that breaks me into a cold sweat every time I hear it.

Take today morning for example. I wake up to this sound emanating right behind me.One of those blasted birds had come inside the room and was stuck in the curtains.If there was a world record for the longest jump from a supine position, I would have beaten it by miles.Only if this was an event at the Olympics, India would never have to worry about not winning medals at all.
In a split second not only was I wide awake, but standing in the other corner of the room trembling from head to toe.The flutter-flutter of those wings continue in full volume.I arm myself with a broomstick and pick up my bed sheet. A new age gladiator ready to take on the scourge of the aves.

I gingerly try and slide the window open, hoping that the blasted bird will fly away. Mistake! The window opens a bit, but the bird gets released from the curtain and starts flying frantically around the room. I manage to turn the fan off and go and hide in the bathroom.Lets call it a strategic retreat.

Once my heartbeat comes down to normal, I brace myself for the next round.Summoning all the courage I had, I peep into the room. The pigeon has nicely perched on the curtain rod looking very pleased with itself.It looks towards me and smirks. Bastard! I shake my broom towards the bird. It calmly poops on my bed.

This was war now. No holds barred. It would either be the bird or me in this room. I leave the room and go into the kitchen hunting for air rifles,bazookas, missile launchers, hand grenades,anything I can find. No luck! I settle for a steel plate and a spoon. I start hitting the plate hard with the spoon, hoping to scare the pigeon away. The damn thing starts tap dancing to the tune.

I go back to my first choice of weapons. I pick up the broom and mange to open the window a bit further,gingerly keeping a watch out in case the bird tried to attack me. It shifts a bit to tease me, but doesn't fly out. I drop the broom in disgust and just stand silently observing the evil thing. Suddenly it makes a move and flies diagonally across the room, giving me a heart attack in the process. I fall down backwards and watch my life flash in front of my eyes in slow motion.
The bird circles over my head a couple of times and suddenly flies out of the window. I am half dead by then. I stay frozen for sometime in the same position before managing to get up and close the window.I swear I hear some pigeons having a good laugh in the background. Must be my visitor regaling his friends about what happened just now. I ignore them. Maintaining a stiff upper lip is the only way to deal with these beings.

The return of the Jade(d)-i

2008-08-15T10:32:00.006+05:30

Joy to the world, my laptop is back! The blasted blue screen of death had put me out of action for quite some time, but thankfully the evil has been vanquished and here I am, more than ready to continue spreading my garbage into blogosphere!

Several thousand bucks lighter in the pocket, but managed to recover all my data thankfully, and save the hard drive! Two important lessons learnt from this :- 1)Always create backups of the data you don't want to lose at any cost 2)You are 26 years old...STOP surfing for random porn on the net you pervert!

Anyways...lappie is back, and I get to wiki and blog as much as I want again. The net connection sux, but at least I am able to browse in fits and starts.They have blocked the Internet at office (death to the @#$%# insensitive louts who came up with that idea) and I was getting withdrawal pangs like crazy when the lappie had gone for repairs. Life is seriously sadder than ever in office now. I mean one of the very few sites that opens now is this. Gimme a break!! Yes..I know I work for a bank...go figure out for yourself how much I love my job :P

Managed to settle my credit card bills at last sometime back. Nearly 90% of the bonus I had received got wiped out at one go. Pinched like hell to see all that money being debited from my bank account, but at least I'm debt free now.The collection agents who were getting ready with their arsenal to come at me have been called back. I swear I heard this tough looking guy mutter 'Baach gaya Saala' as I was crossing the street one day. Too bad guys...better luck next time. Go bash up someone else if you have to! (For those uninitiated with the sorrows of my life... my credit card bills had touched 6 digits...please don't ask me how!)

Shifted to a new place...again! 4th time in the span of an year...and that's not counting the stop gap arrangements at bro's place while I was shifting from one pigeon hole to the other. Methinks I was a gypsy in my past life. I just can't stay put at one place for too long. And just in case you are wondering... I am most probably again shifting in December. :D

Have started travelling by local train full time to and fro office... the horrors of it I shall describe one day, but tis not the time. I bet the Britishers would have fled earlier had they seen the aggression our people display while boarding and unboarding from the local trains in Mumbai! I play it safer. Try and leave for office before the crazy rush starts (even if it means waiting 30 minutes till the first person comes to open the office), and return home by taking a train in the opposite direction and again board from the station where the trains originate. Atleast I get standing space in this way! Life eeej haard as you can guess !

O.k... enough of blaberring for now. Feels good to blog again! :)

The soothsayer's tale

2008-07-21T01:28:00.003+05:30

The catastrophe finally happened. The soothsayer knew it was coming, the impending gloom had warned him much ,much before.It's as if the elements just came together for a second and whispered into his ear what would happen.

The cyclone came and struck, leaving him half dead in the process. But at least he was still alive for some more time. He muttered a silent prayer to Kibza, the God of Protection. There was still hope in the face of all opposition. That's what keeps me alive, he thought. Hope. Funny four letter word isn't it ? Even when it seems apparent that nothing can save the situation, there is always this hope to look forward to.

As far as he remembered,he could always predict things in advance. There were always the few instances when he was way off target, but otherwise his sixth sense was far more developed than other people. It was disturbing at times, but he never told anyone what he knew would happen.... It was his gift, it was his curse. And he had no time for fools who would come to him asking for details about the future. He couldn't do that, only sense what was about to happen. And more often than not his doomsday prophesies came true. He lay tossing in bed every night wondering if at times he willed these things to happen by thinking about them, by worrying about them.

The six suns of Chroma were shining more brightly than usual when the cyclone hit. On his planet, cyclones were not an unusual event. But this one was different. The soothsayer had created this particular cyclone from a part of his heart. He didn't care that part of his soul would be torn to create it. The desire to play God was too strong. He had thought that he would get happiness by creating something so powerful, so strong, so magnificent.

When it struck him, he was surprisingly calm and composed. When a part of you tries to destroy you, you don't feel any sadness. Just a bit confused as to why it had to happen. And a pain that refuses to go away.The soothsayer just stood in the middle of the destruction feeling his life ebb away from him.

The gods seemed to mock him from above, taking sadistic pleasure to see a man humbled like this ! The soothsayer smiled to himself. The gods have their own whims and fancies, he thought. The cyclone has taken my life,but I still have some time left. I may lose the battle in the process, but this time I know I did not give up without trying my best.

The soothsayer never really realised what had gone wrong the first time he tried his hand at this thing. But then, intergalactic phenomena were never his strong point. This time with the cyclone he had acted with clockwork precision,fully knowing it would try to destroy him. But it was a mad hope that this time he wouldn't be wrong. This time the gods would be with him. Funny thing is that he still had that hope alive as strongly as ever.

The soothsayer looked up at the sky. There was no trace of the cyclone. Maybe this is what hurt the soothsayer the most.It had just vanished from his life after striking him down,leaving the shards inside to ensure that he bled continuously from time to time. He had exposed too much of his soul to the cyclone, it knew very well that internally the soothsayer was as frail as he appeared strong on the outside. So when it struck, it made sure that even though the physical wounds would heal, the internal ones would keep tormenting the soothsayer till his miserable life ebbed away from the pain.

Some stars sprang to life as the sixth sun completed it's revolution. The soothsayer dropped to the ground as his legs gave way. The shards are reaching the brain he thought. Just a few seconds more. He gathered up all the strength he had remaining and prayed his last prayer to Kibza. As his brain exploded, he smiled as he saw the cyclone glimmering away in the distance.

The neem poem

2008-07-13T01:01:00.001+05:30

Salim bola oh my love, have i done any sin ?
tell me how ur heart i can forever win
Anarkali ne salim ko bola "arre sun zalim!'
mere liye leke aa tu bahut saara neem

bangalore mein baithi hain chosnee neem wali
address hain bhootni villa, neemwaali ki gali
this neem will make me ekdum beauty queen
in this way my idiot prince my heart u can win

Salim went to Bengaluru heart very very happy
but after meeting chosnee he wanted to wear a nappy
for dear miss ratterjee was in a mood very crappy
she told salim to get out in a tone very very snappy

i am stuck in a land so strange where i only get rasam
and you dare come to me because of ur stupid kasam ?
i dont care if anarkali turns into terrible maa kaali
i'm not giving my precious neem for ur gharwaali

salim pleaded and salim cried but chosnee remained mean
didnt salim know that rosh just loooves her neem ?
so give up hope for your stupid aspiring beauty queen
chosnee will leave the Himalayas but she will never leave her neem

The Luvly poem

2008-07-13T00:49:00.003+05:30

Now that you have become my bride,
Let me go on a mush overdrive,
Tu begum mein tera jahapana,
Only for you is my gaana :-

Jab bhi mein jaata hoon gym,
Sochta hoon only about Luvlean,
75 laps on the tread mill ,
Thinking abt Luvs who stole my dil,

Koi aur usko dekhey to bana jealousy mein green,
Oh I love you my Luvlean ,
Please don't ever lose your sheen,
My luvly lady of my dreams,

Sun re my Lovely Luvly,
I'm your darling hubby,
You are so very lubly,
I don't need to drink any bubbly,

Just thinking of you gives me a high,
Luvs hain to whiskey kyun piyoon mein bhai ??

Now that you have become my groom,
Thinking of you my dil goes Vrrooom ,
My man Lovaboy so fit and strong,
Just like Tarzan wearing a thong,
Pesh karti hoon mein tere liye yeh song :-

Mere ghar aaya tu as cool as Cokka cola ,
dekhte hi tujhey mera dil bola,
this is my knight in armour shining,
Jis ke liye sadiyo se I was pining,
Oh my sexy Lovaboy,
I wanna make you my play toy,

Karenge eksaath exercise everyday at the gym ,
Cut the carbs,ignore the rice and go for a swim,
Treadmill pein humdono chalengey saath saath,
Log bolenge Luvlean mein hain kuch khaas baat,
Lovaboy jaisa munda, jo pahley tha ek goonda,
Ban gaya Luvs ke pyar mein ekdum goonga

Rambling in the rain...

2008-07-02T22:55:00.003+05:30

I didn't really have a reason to walk to office yesterday in nearly waist high dirty water, but I thought that it would be a crazy thing to do, and I really had'nt been upto any crazy act for a long long time!(Getting drunk and sending rude messages once in a while is not to be counted out here!) Anyways... here's the link in case any of you want to check out what it is like walking down Mumbai's roads when they get flooded.

It's been quite a while since I chose to get drenched on my own accord. Last time, if I remember correctly, was many, many months back near the Gateway of India where I got totally drenched, had some awesome bhutta and actually enjoyed the experience for a change!(getting drenched in the rain I mean... I've nothing against having bhutta. Which reminds me that that was the last time I had bhutta actually!)

I remember the time when I was in class XI,some of us got the idea that we have to celebrate Aishwarya's birthday by having Coke (I am obviously referring to the cold drink out here!) It was raining like crazy, and the mission was tough, but we were determined in our goal. We (four or five morons who were sad enough to be infatuated by Ms Rai at that point of time in our lives) braved our way through water logged streets and mean vehicles determined to splash as much water as possible as they crossed us, survived the impact of millions of bullet like raindrops that never ceased in their velocity and reached a shop selling the drink that the goddess advertised. (Before you get the idea that Coke was a rare commodity in Kolkata and could only be found in a few shops out there , let me add that part of our deal was to walk through the rain in order to prove our devotion! ) The entire journey was worth it just to see the look on the faces of the shopkeeper and general junta around as we took our bottles and started singing Happy Birthday at the top of our voices!

Pune was heaven when it rained. It was magical sitting at the Pagoda on Fergusson Tekdi (a hill at the boundary of my college) watching the rains wash away the grime off the thousands of trees below us and paint them in brilliant shades of green, shivering away to glory as we shared a solitary cigarette and laughing our heads off thinking of the unfortunate ass who lost his foothold on the slippery rocks and went tumbling down some distance! It was sheer delight biking down the roads in Pune when it drizzled slightly. I had this (in)famous flourescent orange wind cheater in college that was bright enough to ensure I could be spotted from nearly two miles away. (which was precisely the reason my parents made me buy the thing ...It was supposed to reflect light in the dark or some shit like that!. To give it credit, it did help scare away any vehicle coming from the opposite side of the road in the middle of the night !

I joined IMA in Jan '04, when winter was just about starting in full fledge in that part of the country. For a second imagine that it's a typical Delhi winter, and the only thing you are wearing is a thin cotton vest, a shirt, a pair of trousers, and one ordinary sweater. O.k... now replace yourself with Gentleman Cadet Sritanu Chakrabarti, D/36335, Jr Coy, Ma Bn, 116 Regular. Since you are not allowed to wear civvies in the army, replace your shirt and trousers with a pair of olive green dungarees. Throw away that sweater, add a cap to your head and wear combat boots. No wollen inners/woolen socks/thick vests allowed. (nearly all of us tried wearing them surreptitiously the first few days... always got caught by the seniors, got rogered first thing in the morning, and then were sent off for the day's training ahead...came back, and again got rogered for messing up in the morning) To make things fun, one person fucking up by breaking rules (in this case by wearing clothing that was not regulation) , meant that the entire first termers in a particular company got rogered. We fell into line within the first few days itself, better brave the cold than face the wrath of the seniors !

Anyways... so there we were in our dungarees, wearing them everywhere as our Olive Green uniforms were yet to be issued. We were issued three- four pairs of dungarees, so that the pair that got drenched due to sweat by the time you returned to your room, could be left to dry/given for a wash , and you would wear another one the following day. Things were going fine until it suddenly started raining in Dehradun one fine day. My first reaction to the rains when I woke up in that particular morning was 'Rainy Day ... no training today!' Then realisation crept in that it did'nt matter whether it was rain or sun....training would continue as same as ever. Only difference would be that the temperture had drastically dropped a few degrees lower. Riding on your bicycle on mountainous terrain (you always move about in IMA in squads of four or six ,either on your bicycle or you march. If you are unlucky enough to be the odd numbered guy after a squad is made, run all the way to wherever you are going. Walking is something you don't dare do unless you are an officer or a third termer!) in that biting cold ,amidst the rain was tough. Your body got so numb, you could hardly feel anything. And at 4.30 A.M in the morning, the combined effect of the mist and the rain meant that you could hardly see where you were going! Come rain, come shine, the GC has to reach on time. Being late means all your coursemates get fucked by the instructor because of you !

It rained incessantly day in ,day out for about a week. By the third day, I was out of dungarees. Two had gone for washing, two pairs were wet. Have you ever tried wearing dripping wet clothes first thing on a winter morning, then gone out in the rain and got drenched for the whole day ? Try repeating this schedule for about four days in a row. Surprisingly, none of us fell sick or anything. By the end of it, we were so toughened up, that we knew that the first step towards becoming a soldier was taken. We were weather immune to some extent at least.It all seems like a dream today as I look in the mirror and see a fat slob staring back at me! (O.K... resolution made yet again to start exercising and get back in shape from tomorrow!)

Well... rambled on quite a bit I guess. :) I'll go back to my pensieve now and revisit IMA for some time. It's funny, that after all these years, the army is still the only thing that I have been ever passionate about from the bottom of my heart! More from me later...till then Jai Hind! :)

Resume

2008-06-14T18:52:00.003+05:30

SRITANU CHAKRABARTI

KEY STRENGTHS

As I want to join your illustrious company,
I’ll state down my plusses in a short symphony,

I’m creative, as you can probably make out,
I’m adaptable (you will never see me pout)
Working in teams comes easily to me,
I have a track record of leadership ability
I maintain my calm even when things go barmy
Discipline is something I learnt during my stint in the Army

Taking initiative is something I do,
Result orientation is a topic never taboo,
An excellent communicator, I also listen when people talk,
As a result of this I build client relationships round the clock

KEY ACHIEVEMENTS

About my achievements, I shall now speak,
Before you think that in the workplace I am weak,
I won this contest at work , I was first amongst my peers,
Over achieved targets that led to celebrations and cheers,
My branch improved it’s rankings pan India from double to single digits
I’ve single handedly organised events for dignitary visits,
Successful at cross selling products that were not in my domain,
I’ve managed to pin point areas that were causing the company pain,
My recommendations have been followed with the results now coming in,
Cost cutting measures I suggested have been keeping the bills thin.

POSTIONS OF RESPONSIBILITY/EXTRACURRICULAR ACTIVITIES

Positions Held:

As the Cultural Secretary of the student’s body of Indian Institute of Foreign Trade,
I was responsible for taking it’s inter B School fest – Quo Vadis to international grade,
As the Treasurer, I also maintained all Accounts
And organised National Level Symposiums on two counts

As the 1st year coordinator of IIFT’s marketing club Brandwagon,
I helped my fellow students understand Kotler’s marketing jargon,
In my stint as a member of Fergusson’s Cultural Committee,
Amongst diverse cultural groups I helped spread amity

In school I was the head honcho, known as the Prefect,
I supervised all student activities and organised events perfect

Extracurricular Activities/Awards Won:

Dramatics

Performances at National Level I’ve delivered on stage ,
Winning many prizes right from school to college

Quizzing

Being aware about the world at large is of interest to me,
At both city and at national level competitions, I’ve been on a winning spree

INTERESTS

I love writing stories, and poems are my forte,
In movies and music, I have a taste assorted
Dramatics has always been close to my heart,
I blog regularly and take an interest in Art

LANGUAGES KNOWN
In English, Bengali and Hindi, I am extremely proficient ,
Have a knowledge of Marathi and French, for working just sufficient.

P:S I am actually going to send this Resume to a few recruiters and try my luck!

Is there a dream job where I can sit and write nonsense verse whole day and get paid for it ?? Please get in touch if you do know of something like this. You will go straight to heaven for helping a poor soul out ! :D

Song for the asking...

2008-06-03T18:32:00.009+05:30

As I was growing up, most (if not all) the music I listened to was thanks to the influence of my brother. He was(and still is) a Beatles fanatic. I once chanced upon him listening to Lennon and muttering'that bastard..that bastard' with moist eyes. When you are in Class 4 and you hear your elder brother uttering the B word,you are more than delighted! You ask him innocently whom he is abusing, so that the next moment you can go and snitch to your mom that Dada used the forbidden B word to describe so and so. My brother replies "Mark David Chapman" and goes on casting doubts about the legitimacy of the Chapman family tree. Err..who ? I had learnt about both Mark and David during Bible History lessons at school, but who was this Chapman dude and why was my usually docile brother abusing them with such hatred ? I get the answer after my brother is satisfied that his Lachrymal glands are functioning as effeciently as ever ,and also learn that it was Lennon's death anniversary. I learnt another important lesson that day.If you have doubts about elder brother's sanity, do not voice them out aloud (especially when you are within striking distance! )

Years and years later(I was just about to join college) , I was spending a lonely afternoon in Pune rummaging through my brother's cassettes without fear of being reprimanded... he was safely away in MICA,so there was no way he could see what I was upto and enact Vesuvius erupting in front of me again(I mean ...C'mon..just because I recorded my voice over one his his rare bootlegs does'nt mean that I would try it every time!)

Anyways... I pulled out this cassette at random and started listening to it. I don't know if you have ever heard the voice of God. I mean I haven't either,but you get the general feeling as to how much I was moved. I heard the cassette over and over again. Their lyrics were sheer poetry...the music absolutely divine ! I could totally relate to the songs.It almost seemed as if someone had got into my head and had taken frantic notes as to what emotions I was feeling. I used to sit in class and scribble down the lyrics of the songs non stop. I was obsessed with the duo. I read all about them and bought whatever cassetes were available in the market. I had finally found my Gods. I had discovered Simon & Garfunkel

(to be continued...)

Nightmare comes true :(

2008-05-30T10:56:00.005+05:30

Dear All,
We have observed users uploading huge files to web based email sites. (Gmail, Yahoo etc.) This not only consumes Internet bandwidth but is also a source of information leakage. The attachments coming from such mails are also a potential source of malware intrusion into our network.

In view of the above the Information Security Committee of the company has taken a decision to completely block access to all Internet based email sites. (Pls. note you will continue to receive & send mails to yahoo, hotmail, gmail etc. from your official email id)

Access to all Internet based email sites will be blocked on 5th June 2008.

Thanks & Regards
IT Services

Boohooohooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo :((
How will I entertain myself in office from now on ?? ....methinks I need to move on to a new job soon in protest !!

Smells Like Teen Patti

2008-05-27T09:59:00.001+05:30

Seedy bar mein teen patti
Bujh gaya dimag ki batti
Jab se mili hain usko aapni 'Wish'
Aadmi ban gaya yeh spineless fish

Innara ... aai aai o ....Innara
Innara ... aai aai o ....Innara

No more hiding during auto fights
No more prancing around in tights
Zindagi ban gaya hain disco
Hindi gaana aab pasand hain isko

Innara ... aai aai o ....Innara
Innara ... aai aai o ....Innara

For the benefit of a select few who know what this is about !

2008-05-19T10:23:00.002+05:30

In all matters legal she was the queen, be careful or she would sue
Enamored by her talents(in and out of office), our hero decided to woo
You are the idli, I am the dosa, our love a tangy sambaar
Oh my Mallu, let me be your pallu, shuru kartein hain aapna sansaar

In our courtship you can call me your lordship, yes you certainly can
I feel so regal, when you speak legal, I am your kinky Tam Bram
For you I'll listen to Hip Hop, I'll even sing songs in Hindi
I am ready to go dancing all night, oh my sweet bhindi

Do you see what I see.. I see eye see eye
Naino se naina mil gaya jab, why you feeling shy?
Come my baby lets play flash, we'll together swindle in glee
I am so glad from You and I, ban gaye hum log We

She now calls him honey, she calls him darling , she can't get him out of her head
He likes the attention he is getting but just goes on wishing for a sturdier bed,
She was like a cool breeze in summer,with her around you didnt need a fan
He was the crafty devil himself, wanted her to click pics of him in his Jockey Pocoman

The Unicorn's Tale

2008-04-30T00:39:00.001+05:30

Dabboo was really happy today…it was his quadrentryrt today …and at last he was an adutryrt!...he looked at his reflection in the pool … another few tryrtyrt years and he would be a fully grown unicorn . He couldn’t stop admiring his horn in the reflection ..it had grown to it’s full size …the real sign of an adutryrt!. His mother came up to him and wished him a Happy Quadrentryrt! “But you must behave like a grown up now, Dabboo”,she said . “No more trying to wander off into the Forbidden Forest all by yourself!” Dabboo smiled to himself . He had always been fascinated by the Forbidden Forest ever since he was a mere yountrytrt of an unicorn ! …he had tried to slip in a few times before , but had always been caught by the keepers. But now things were different ..an adutryrt ,with the help of his horn had the ability to turn invisible at will, albeit for a short time ! Dabboo decided to celebrate his quadrentryrt by exploring the Forbidden Forest !! ..he would slip in pass the keepers by turning invisible..…after all what could be there that everyone avoided it ??...he had asked the elders but had only been told not to meddle his horn into grown up affairs !! But he was a grown up now..technically at least!! He was still to pass his Qwetyrt to be considered an adutryrt …it consisted of several tasks he had to complete before the elders were satisfied that Daboo was mature enough to be declared an Qwetyrt Adutryrt. And as his mother kept on reminding Dabboo, wanting to venture into the Forbidden Forest would certainly not please the elders !! Dabboo promised himself that this would be the first and last time in the Forbidden Forest. After this he would settle down as a responsible adutrytrt and be a model unicorn! Dabboo concentrated hard on the tip of his horn and wished to be invisible . It was the first time he was doing it and it took some time . Then he felt a warm sensation all over . He looked at his reflection in the pool …the blue sky stared back at him . “I’ve done it ..I am invisible!!”,thought Dabboo ! He was through the keepers and into the Forbidden Forest in an instant . Suddenly the warm sensation ebbed away . Dabboo realized that he was visible once again . He broke into a trot as he realized he was finally in the Forbidden Forest !! .He looked around but could’nt make out any difference out here compared to the Forest he lived in . Trust the elders to make a big deal about the Forbidden Forest !! Suddenly he heard a loud noise . He turned around instantly towards the source of the sound . Dabboo couldn’t believe what he saw …but how was it possible ?? … he had read about these creatures in his mythology books ...and off course everyone knew they didn’t exist !! . Dabboo poked himself with his horn to see if he was dreaming . But the creature was still there ..in all it’s ugliness ! Dabboo moved towards the creature when it suddenly gave out another loud noise and went further inside the forest emitting noises as it went ! . Suddenly Dabboo heard someone coming his way . Expecting to see the creature again Dabbo turned behind , only to see his father coming up with a most unpleasant look . His father bellowed in anger “How dare you come into the Forbidden Forest…and that too that you are an adutryrt now??”Dabboo was so scared that he meekly followed his father out of the Forbidden Forest , forgetting to tell all about the creature he saw . And seeing the temper his father was in , Dabboo decided to keep shut ! His father would be the last person to believe about the creature he saw in the Forest ! Dabboo went back home and had to swear that he would never go inside the Forbidden Forest again ! . Later when things had cooled down Dabboo told his mother “You won’t believe what I saw in the Forbidden Forest today..it was a…”he whispered the name of the creature lest his father overheard him speaking about such things . Dabboo’s mother laughed and told him “Don’t be silly Dabboo …grow up !!..there are no such things as Humans”

The Perfect Man

2008-04-29T22:47:00.000+05:30

Once upon a time, in a land not so far away there lived the perfect girl, or at least that’s what she thought she was. And it was obvious that she wouldn’t settle for anything less than the perfect man wasn’t it? So she went on spurning suitors, who were numerous …it was natural I guess...Some were attracted by her looks, some by her wit, and some by the size of her father’s bank account. While her best friends got married and pregnant, though not necessarily in the same order, she waited patiently for her perfect man to come. And then she met him. Like in all good old love stories, she hated the sight of him at first. Then as she got to know him better she found out that he wasn’t a bad sort at all .In fact to her surprise she found that she quite liked spending time with him. As time went on she began to ask herself whether he was the man she was waiting for. She began to look out for any faults he might have …she had to be careful …she wouldn’t settle for anything less than a perfect man , and she was willing to wait for some more time if she had to. But her fears went unproved and after a few weeks she was sure that he was as perfect as a man could get. Now she was convinced that he was the perfect man she had been looking for all her life, she decided to broach the topic of love by casually asking him whether he wanted to remain single all his life. He smiled, looked straight into her eyes and replied “Well... I’m still looking for the perfect man”

(Written on 22/11/2002…Mumbai)

The Meeting

2008-04-29T22:46:00.003+05:30

I woke up thinking about her . Again . The same thing had been happening daily for over the past one month now . Maybe it is natural , maybe it’s not , I don’t know . I guess everyone feels the same way I did, sometime or the other in their lives .
As I dressed, I looked at her picture stuck by the mirror . I smiled at it . I knew I would be meeting her today --Our first meeting . She herself hadn’t actually agreed to meet me or anything , but today I was determined to meet her . No more watching her from behind the bushes or waiting outside her apartment to catch a glimpse of her . She was going to her farmhouse today and I would meet her there .
I may be a total stranger to her , but she is not to me. God ! , to what lengths I have gone to know about her . For the past one month I had been running from place to place finding out what she liked , what she didn’t , where she liked to go , which was her favourite food , which perfume she likes wearing , who were her friends , who were not …Shit ..and God knows what not ! .
I left the house after some time and drove to her farm house , listening to “Love Story” as I went … It was her favourite track . On reaching my destination I was pleased to see that her car was parked by the house . Good ! This meant that she had already arrived . I parked my car next to hers .
I waited in the car till she came out of the house and proceeded towards her car . I got out of the car and stood in front of her . She seemed surprised to see me . I smiled at her , then I took out my gun and shot her through her eyes . As she fell to the ground in a pool of blood I spoke into my cell phone “The mark has been eliminated …. arrange for payments”

Recognition

2008-04-29T22:43:00.002+05:30

It was a cold and dark night . The streets were empty except for the one or two dogs howling at each other . The chilly wind knocked at the closed windows and doors sounding like a policeman on his beat . A man stepped out of the door of the building next to which I was standing . sensing a possible prey I followed the man as he started walking towards the main road .
It was dreadfully cold and I saw the man tighten his jacket and shiver as he fumbled in his pocket for a match to light the cigarette he had just taken out . I saw my opportunity and in a flash I was beside him . I held out my lighter towards him . He was at first surprised but then he lighted his cigarette , thanked me and asked “haven’t I seen you somewhere ?” . I smiled . Ever since my picture had come out in the papers I was getting recognized all over town . I moved out of the shade so that he could see me better . The man’s face changed . The cigarette dropped from his hand and he screamed aloud in fright . I took a ;last look at him as he fell to the ground and fainted .
As I moved away I glanced at the place where my forehead was . I sighed . Ever since the mugger had blown my brains off , I wasn’t the same handsome man I used to be .

Written in the English Language period in School...Class XI)

The Approach of Death

2008-04-29T22:41:00.001+05:30

As Yukon III gained consciousness , he felt a searing pain in the abdominal region . He realized that the effect of the toxic gas was still lingering in the room .
Turning around he saw that his father had been crushed to death . Zeka VI was lying in front of him , most probably dead . Yukon III felt like crying . He couldn’t understand why the humans were so hell bent on their destruction . For generations the humans had been killing their tribe and most probably would continue doing so till either of them were completely wiped out .
Yukon III tried to move out of the room but couldn’t . The pain increased as he tried to move . Last month his mother had been killed , and now his father too was dead . “The humans are becoming more and more aggressive each day “ , he observed . Previously the attacks were few , once in a month or two , but now they were attacked nearly every week . Yukon III was feeling dizzy now . His sight was steadily diminishing , but he managed to observe that two humans had entered the room .
he tried to escape , but the humans were faster . Yukon III was crushed to death , like his father had bee , a short while ago . As life ebbed out of him Yukon III heard one of the humans say “ Bloody disgusting creatures ! … never liked on of ‘em roaches” .

(Written in class XI during the Math period in school ,13/XI/99)

Unnamed -11th March,2007

2008-04-29T22:28:00.004+05:30

He had harbored a crush on her as long as he could think. She was the embodiment of everything he wanted in a girl. To him she was perfect in every manner possible. She was a free spirit; her zest for life excited him and left him breathless at the same time. Once when he has gone out with some common friends, someone had remarked that her partner would have trouble keeping up with her limitless enthusiasm. He had secretly made a silent prayer that someday he would be the one who would be with her. He knew it was futile to tell her directly that he liked her. A girl like that deserved the best, and he knew too well that she wouldn’t even give him a second glance. He tried telling himself that he was just being plain silly to even think of the girl .It didn’t work. As much as he tried, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about her in the middle of the night. After getting drunk it was she whom he thought of first. And he was sad that he could never be with her.

The spaceship moved towards the star slowly but steadily. The crew was experienced and frankly so used to the procedure by now that they could have carried out the landing blindfolded. AlphaXIX was the best ship the Mersinontuans had built and could be relied upon to function even in the face of a nuclear attack. The crew was selected from the best in the Sunova galaxy and had undergone rigorous training for nearly five years before they were cleared for the mission. Their task was simple. To land on the star and come back with enough Ewenfullium to power the galaxy for a million more years. After all the entire star was totally made of Ewenfullium , and even a few pounds of the substance was more than enough of what they needed. The difficult part was that no ship had ever been able to go near the star without being reduced to ash. The Mersinontuans had toiled for seven long years before they could come up with a plan as to how they should build a ship that could withstand landing on the star and coming back safely with the Ewenfullium. Building the ship and testing it in laboratory conditions had taken 15 more years. After all, the few fragments of Ewenfullium that broke out of the orbit of the star and could be obtained by the Mersinontuans were few and far between, and replicating the destructive force of the star in a laboratory was tough even for the advanced science of the Mersinontuans. Millions of years of studying the galaxy seemed so futile when they were faced with the scarcity of Ewenfullium. Nothing seemed to work. And that’s when the Mersinontuans managed to create Asqauredm and Esquarev

He was falling for her with each passing day. He kept hoping he would meet her even if for a brief period of time. The smile on her face warmed him up instantly. He had never felt more at peace with himself than when he was with her. He dreaded letting her know in any way. She was a good friend, and he didn’t want to lose that in any way. He hoped to secretly keep on loving her and fade away when she was gone. At times he humored himself with the thought that they were together. Then he would come to his senses and berate himself for his pipe dreams.

The Mersinontuans created Asqauredm and Esquarev out of particles of Ewenfullium after years of research. The tests in the laboratory impressed even the most cynical of the Mersinontuan scientists. They were the only things apart from AlphaXIX that seemed to resist the destructive force of the Ewenfullium. The entire galaxy held their breath when the crew got into AlphaXIX for the first time and were subject to the force of the Ewenfullium in the laboratory. When they came out unscathed, the Mersinontuans realized that hey had perhaps saved the galaxy from extinction. Their own sun had died thousands of years back, and it was only through Ewenfullium that they could hope to energise the life on the galaxy. And Asqauredm and Esquarev were the perfect tools to dig the surface of the star and come back with the vital mineral that would save Sunova from extinction.

He went out on a trip with a group of friends one day. He was tremendously busy, but the fact that she was coming along seemed to make everything else meaningless. He wanted to be with her, talk to her, walk with her, breathe the same air as she was breathing. He was so much in love with her. The twinkle in her eyes when she laughed at his jokes made his life worthwhile. He loved her.

The commander of AlphaXIX opened the hatch as they moved in position over the star. Asqauredm and Esquarev were gently placed in the cosmobasket and pushed out towards the star. As they slowly made their descent, the crew crossed their fingers and hoped that the mission would be successful. Everything seemed to be proceeding peacefully till the time the cosmobasket entered the atmosphere of the star. Suddenly there was a blinding flash and the entire star became blue. The force of the explosion immediately reduced AlphaXIX and its crew to ash.

He woke up to see she was laying next to him. He had never seen her looking more beautiful. The blue morning light made her look more angelic than ever. He bent over and kissed her gently on the lips. She opened her eyes and smiled at him. A2 dm looked straight into her eyes and said “Eve, I never had the guts to tell you before, but I love you” E2v put her head on his shoulder and replied “I love you too Adam”

the scent

2008-04-04T18:54:00.012+05:30

"Then I fall to my knees

I grow weak, I go slack

As if she captured the breath of my

Voice in a bottle

And I cant catch it back"

-She Moves On, Paul Simon

The whiff of the perfume handed by the sales executive at the swanky mall takes me back several years. I don't need to see the name of the brand. It's etched in my mind. Just like the smell was for a good number of years. My knees start trembling. I politely tell her I will come back later and walk out for a good lungful of smoke. I need it badly. The nicotine spreading through my veins gradually pacifies the tornado in my head.

Long after the bottle was over, I used to smell the cap just to hold on to those memories. Venus was close to the Earth that time I remember. Just one of those random things that comes back to mind all of a sudden. I can suddenly smell the gun powder and hear the staccato of a machine gun burst in the background somewhere once more.

I smile to myself as I sit in the cab that will take me home. The sudden surge of emotions vanished as quickly as they had emerged. I will never forget the name of the brand ever. Was very apt for what I had experienced then. Those were different times, I was a different person.

Heights of Desperation !

2008-04-02T19:18:00.003+05:30

Pant taa khule haathey elo likhtey giye kobita
Bishon-i shaala demanding, aamar-ei hobby taa
Tobou cheshta chaliye jaachi only one thing bhebhey
Kono maagi impressed hoye lagatey aamai debey !

(Translated below just for the sake of translation ! )

The pants they come undone in the effort to write verse
It's really demanding this hobby of mine perverse
Still I carry on with the thought that my efforts will get paid
Some hot chick will get impressed and I will get laid !

An ode to Chosnee - By Jhontu Das, B.Com (IInd division), Bardhaman

2008-04-02T18:56:00.003+05:30

oh chosneeee my laaabhly lil brat
i hope u have killed that pesky rat
warna let me come carrying my gun
i bheel hunt it for you oh my sanaam

i bheel put my life in danger, tere liye
aaab to maan jaa ... kor mujhse biye
from bardhaman i will take a local train
I hope my efforts bheel not go in vain

Bhen you come wearing that red sari
Over you para-r chokras will start maramari
I bheel become tornado and save you fom them
Shotti bolcchi Chosnee... this is called Prem !

You call me "O Go shuncho", I will call you "Tumi"
When bheel you marry me, just sei din gulo guni
You are my shorshe... i will be your ilish maach
I will be your song... you will be my baliye naach

amar shundori Chosnee....I am making propose
I dont habh any money, warna bhejta ek lal rose
Kiney debo lal chiruni,fitey and lipisteek tokey
Please maan jaa chosnee... marriage ke liye say O.k !!

(with due apologies to non bongs... in all modesty, the effect is lost in translation :P )

of plagiarism...

2008-03-17T19:19:00.008+05:30

Well...well...well.. I was just going through some blogs and I came across one written by a friend of mine. I read one of her posts and immediately this thing popped into my mind 'Libertas et natale solum ' ,which roughly translated from Latin (for the benefit of those poor souls who have been bereft of a Classical education) means 'Fine words! I wonder where you stole them!' I didn't actually have to wonder that much...one of my own posts had been lifted (or should I say copy pasted) ,one word replaced...and Voila ..I have been plagiarised!! I am quite kicked about it, to tell the truth !! I mean someone actually liked the bullshit I wrote and used it to convey how they felt about a particular thing. :)

Funny...my depression ebbed away for sometime as I was writing this. Maybe I should just blog regularly,no matter what rubbish emanates from my mind and see if I feel better. I better get about doing something constructive in life before I can think of adding my nameto this list !

One flew over the cuckoo's nest !!

2008-01-19T15:07:00.002+05:30

Disorder	Rating
Paranoid Disorder:	Very High
Schizoid Disorder:	High
Schizotypal Disorder:	Very High
Antisocial Disorder:	High
Borderline Disorder:	Very High
Histrionic Disorder:	Moderate
Narcissistic Disorder:	High
Avoidant Disorder:	High
Dependent Disorder:	High
Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder:	Moderate
-- Personality Disorder Test - Take It! -- -- Personality Disorders --

O.k ppl.... heres something that I (and most of my friends) had been suspecting all along !! ... is it high time I went to my shrink ?? It feels so cool to be crazy :))

Animal Farm Revisited.....

2007-10-10T13:07:00.001+05:30

Said the Dog to the Bee one day , I don't know what to do
No matter how hard I try, I cant get my mind of the Shrew,
You know what happened to me Bee, I've told you all ,
Now just help me one more time, I've been driven up the wall

The Bee smiled and said , you know what Doggy Doo ?
I was just talking to the Worm,and he agrees too ,
We think that you are still naive, you are still the fool,
You refuse to accept the truth, that you are quite uncool !

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

I once asked a question to a Panther

But the silly beast just wouldn't anther !

He just sat there chewing on a bone

So I gave it up and just went home

Later at night when I spoke to my ghost,

I asked him if he thought he was a lamp post ?

He didnt reply just like the panther ,

So I've decided to give up this useless banter !

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

Spaced out !!

2007-10-01T11:37:00.001+05:30

So I went to this pub the other day with a couple of friends, and saw that this company was doing some promotional activity there - They were offering a free trip to space ..which i thought was very stupid anyways because there are very few people rich enought to afford a trip to space (and if u want to know who can afford a trip to space ..well ...they can !) so it doesnt really matter if it's free or not ! Anyways.. this company had hired a bunch of men to dress up as astronauts - complete with outfit (made of what looked like white foam) and helmet.

The poor guys were roaming around looking like ETs in their hideous gear and distributing their pamphlets which probably said that you could be one of the lucky winners if you watched their channel (which for reasons best not explained I will not mention here..lets just say that my deviously dirty mind finds the name of the company too gay for words) , sms-d them fifty thousand times, and wrote mushy letters to the dumb bimbette anchor on their channel, proclaiming your undying looove for the channel and how ever since you started watching the channel your brain cells have been dying at a faster rate than usual!

Before I further deviate from the topic, why I am bothering to write all this down (apart from the reason that I am protesting against the establishment today and refuse to do any constructive work at office !) is that as I watched those men in their helmets and foam suits (and resisted the temptation of burning a hole in the suit with my lit cigarette) I wondered.. would I really want to go to space ??

I used to read Sci Fi like crazy at one point of time... I knew more about the geography of Trantor than any boring place on earth, I created imaginary worlds in my mind with seven moons, three suns , which would be under attack by the gigantic Holruminks from the planet Splinzunzun , and I would save the lives of my alien subjects with my planning and leadership skills. (which translated from MBA lingo means I would let others do the dirty work and serve as cannon fodder while I sat on my ass planning strategy) It is still my secret desire to see an UFO land it front of me and meet aliens, who would be so impressed by me that they would give me super powers in return, and I can then rule the world (and in case you are wondering, I will not resort to wearing my underwear over my pants), Asimov and Star Trek ruled my thoughts day in day out. And it would be so cool to piss in space and watch it crystallise and follow the space ship like little obedient diamonds sparkling away to glory!

But when it comes to the thought of actually going to space , (considering a perfect world where I have so much money I actually can afford to pay for a trip to space and not feel the pinch at all , I don't have to go to work so theres plenty of free time to go where I want, when I want (and stupid..if I had so much money, you think I would have to work ? ) would I want to go ?

It would be a fun one-time-thing to do ... but I don't know really if I'll want to go again and again...after all there are still so many problems on earth that I have to resolve. wouldn't be proper if I kept hopping off on my space adventures !

Sometimes conjuring up weird fantasies and day dreaming about things is so much more fun, don't you think ?? Reality is rather boring in my opinion. I got to go now ...just got an intergalactic relay delivered to my brain that this super hot Venusian Bombshell I met on my last trip to space is on her way to meet me. It's a busy job being an ambassador of Earth, but what has to be done has to be done. So excuse me for now !

Enigmatic ...

2006-11-14T02:43:00.001+05:30

Squeezed some time out of the crazy schedule I am having over the last few weeks to create this game for Quo Vadis ...Named it Enigma... was too lazy to think of anything else !!
Hope the game hasnt become too easy ... could devote just about 1-2 hours over 10 days to make the game. Initial response since I launched it in the evening has been pretty good ... am simultaneously moderating the other blog I created for the game . The rules and how to play are all mentioned there ...
The pic on the left is my first level. The source code states ' I expect some courtesy out here Pardner' ... in the text box below you have to write 'thank you' in order to get to the next level :P ... ya ..I know it's kinda corny !!

Most of the questions in the game revolve around things I have been passionate about in some time of my life or even now ... was an interesting trip down memory lane as I was creating the questions and thinking of what to write in the source code !!

Quo Vadis is just round the corner ... am trying to manage too many things at one go ... have to start delegating things soon !! I knew it would be a tough thing to pull off when I stood for the IMF elections, but now I know how much you have to work your butt off if an entire event is your responsiblity !! It's been a great experience ...that much I can say. I don't mind working hard ... after all Quo Vadis is my baby :) ...and so far I think I have done a much better job with Quo Vadis than what any Cul Sec has managed in the previous years !!

I just hope my work interests me this much (when I have to start working that is) ... I know I will gladly put in everything I have got to do well then! Amen to that !! :)

the times they are a changin'

2006-08-04T19:50:00.001+05:30

" Come senators, congressmen Please heed the call
Don't stand in the doorway Don't block up the hall
For he that gets hurt Will be he who has stalled
There's a battle outside And it is ragin'.
It'll soon shake your windows And rattle your walls
For the times they are a-changin' "

"There is a battle outside and it is ragin' " ....For the first time in my life I am seeing for myself that terrorism isn't just something that happens to people in other areas of the world or the country for that matter.
Delhi is on a super duper high alert against terrorist attacks right now , and for once it does not seem like a routine exercise carried on every year.
I am apprehensive of going out to watch a movie or go to a mall or a restaurant or anywhere for that matter! Nearly everyone around me feels the same way. Why take a risk till matters cool down a bit ?? But the question is will matters cool down really ??
It really sucks that the terrorists are winning the battle after all ... instilling fear in the minds of ordinary citizens so that they don't feel safe to conduct day to day activities is perhaps more crippling than an actual attack.

Strange times we live in ...

depressed ??

2006-07-26T04:04:00.001+05:30

lifes good at the moment , but i still wish i was in the army.... destiny is a funny thing- It snatches away the only thing you were ever passionate about and leaves a shell behind , hollow and empty with only the haunting echoes to reverbate in your ears over and over again.

the divide...

2006-05-05T17:09:00.001+05:30

The CCFC grounds make a great sight when I get up in the morning and look outside my window.Perhaps one of the very few places in Kolkata that won't fall prey to a contractor's
greed and the lush greens be replaced by the apartment blocks of a cement jungle. I noticed two kids playing tennis on the court early in the morning.Nothing unusual about that, except the fact that they were barefeet and dressed in clothes that have obviously been handed down to their elder siblings several years ago. I guessed they were the children of the CCFC maalis and waiters, who lived in the shack by the side of the grounds.The kids often act as ball boys when the members came to play later on in the day.Sometimes they give practise shots to the
members children,no bigger than them, but blessed with all the privileges that life has to offer.
I find it somewhat disconcerting seeing the great divide across the nets...the branded
milkywhite sneakers of the member's child contrasting with the red clay, and the kid on the
other side playing beautifully without shoes,a victim to a fate he has no control on.
I feel a little guilty thinking that I too learnt to play tennis at a club where a barefooted child acted as a ballboy. Had given no thought about it till today... anyways, better late than never.

Of vada pavs and beef steak ...

2006-05-03T18:03:00.001+05:30

I am suddenly struck by the urge to have a vada pav... it's ironical because back in Pune I used to particularly detest this food item at one point of time.A hot vada pav was still o.k, but the ones I used to consume as breakfast at times while rushing to college were cold,oily, and a sure way of ensuring acidity throughout the day.Having South Indian (read dosa,idli,upama)at Savera wasnt too appealing early in the morning...and I was too miserly to pay 10 bucks for two slices of butter toast!The blasted vada pav provided respite on the days when I felt like having breakfast(most days I used to skip) and especially when I was too late for class to stop at a decent joint and have a bite.Life as a hostelite teaches you weird things. Like having soggy semi-cooked Maggi prepared from tap water that has been boiled with the help of an immersion rod.We used to fill an entire bucket for the sake of one Maggi. Like lighting your cigarette from the exposed coils of a heater. Like having Brun with tomato pickle.My roomie(who was with me in Pune) still claims the Brun we used to have was stale bread baked a few days before, which made the crust so bloody tough.Don't know about that, but it was a very interesting buy at Re 1.50 per loaf. When we went to eat at the taapris(nearly all serving Chinese,or so they claimed) side dishes were rarely ordered,unless someone was treating ;) Having noodles with sauce was much more economical, especially when it's the end of the month and you have spent the money allocated for the month by living extravagantly in the first two weeks.We used to go crazy about Kebabs at Bismillah and the Steak burger at Burger King...beef rules boss!!And they were so affordable we could eat to our hearts contents. Late night haunts to the Anda Bhurji waala at the station kept us alive during the exams. Lucky's was another favourite place to go at 3 in the morning for bread pudding or chicken biriyani,whatever you might be craving for at the moment. Was a bit sad to hear that Luck's had been demolished sometime back to make way for some commercial complex.Posh restaurants were for the times when parents came visiting. Other times we lived the way we knew...as hostelites...and we loved every moment of it!

The rat pack..

2006-05-02T14:52:00.001+05:30

Met this friend from school recently. He is pursuing his MBA from a little known school in Kolkata, and will be joining a company soon.Someone asked him abt his CTC , and I instantly compared it to the minimum I can expect after graduating from IIFT.Seems I will be earning nearly double what he will be getting, and the fact somehow made me feel secure. Well...it seems I am a rat after all ... for all that rambling about MBA,money,patterns and what not, I too seem to be an active participant in the so called rat race. After a bit of soul searching I realised that however reluctant(or inept) I may be towards studies, before the final interview I will be slogging it out with the rest of the batch revising things,mugging up facts about the company,preparing typical HR-based questions...what job I will eventually get is not known at the moment, but I'll try at least so that I get the best job I can! Period!So does this mean I start thinking that if i don't get the best job my life is ruined ? ...do I worry about the fact that someone else might be getting a job which pays more than what I will get ?... certainly not. It just means that I will go prepared for the interviews, then leave it to destiny :) You can't mess around with lady luck too much ...that's what it means.

NostOLYgia

2006-04-25T15:31:00.001+05:30

I think I first heard of Oly when I was in school ... A batchmate who discovered the pleasures of alcohol while still at school reportedly met our English teacher Mr. Crouch at Oly and wished him'good evening sir!' while ordering his rum !!
It was during my holidays to Cal that I first went to Oly...and it has been a memorable experience ever since!The occassions were few and far between, and it usually meant meeting up with old friends, telling the same stories about school and college over and over again, yet laughing our guts out each time the stories were mentioned, getting updates about each other and gossip on the more interesting specimens of the batch,while tucking into beaf steak and beer.
The dingy atmosphere,the bare,rickety sofas,the prehistoric waiters who seem to get drunk themselves with each passing hour,the middle aged men discussing Tagore or Kurosawa or communism in raised voices after a few pegs,the faded walls badly in need of a coat of paint,the huge floor fans covered with cob-webs ...everything just adds to the charm of Oly. More than the very affordable alcohol, I guess its the good times you have with friends at Oly that makes it so memorable for most people who have visited Oly.And it's these moments that make you so nostalgic when you think about Oly sitting in a different state(no puns intended)or country,and wish you were back there for some more time !!

Patterns...

2006-04-22T12:00:00.001+05:30

Most people doing an MBA (in my opinion) don't realise that in return for the obscene salary a company will give you , you will have to work that much harder to justify your stay on the pay-roll!And where do you get to spend the money(that remains the sole goal of most MBA students) after working for close to 14 -16 hrs a day and returning back home at late hours, too tired to do anything but have dinner and go to sleep! I have no right to preach. I am doing my MBA and after getting a job I will be in a corporate straitjacket very soon , but atleast I hope that some sanity remains in me not to chase money for the sake of chasing it! I once asked this friend why she got so perturbed about marks and studies and the usual mundane things of MBA life.After staring at me for several minutes she spluttered 'but i have to get a good job'. I
reminded her that there was no co-relation between marks and a job, most interviews are HR based, and if you have the qualities the company is looking for and some knowledge of whats being taught , you will clinch the job. Then i told her that a good job is assured once you pass out from a place like IIFT, so what's the point of slogging like crazy to get great marks and getting into a frenzy about who has scored more than you in what subject? Does it really matter whether you get a job that pays 10.6 lakhs or you get a job that pays 8.7 lakhs?It's the beginning of your career boss ...if you are good enough you will rise and earn loads of money,no matter what job you get! what is the definition of a 'good job'by the way ..simply one that pays a lot , or one that offers a profile which suits you ,or is it doing something that you really enjoy?

All this just reminds me of the song Patterns by Simon & Garfunkel. It goes :-

The night sets softlyWith the hush of falling leaves,
Casting shivering shadowsOn the houses through the trees,
And the light from a street lampPaints a pattern on my wall,
Like the pieces of a puzzleOr a child's uneven scrawl.

Up a narrow flight of stairs In a narrow little room,
As I lie upon my bed In the early evening gloom.
Impaled on my wall My eyes can dimly see
The pattern of my life And the puzzle that is me.

From the moment of my birth To the instant of my death,
There are patterns I must follow Just as I must breathe each breath.
Like a rat in a maze The path before me lies,
And the pattern never alters Until the rat dies.

And the pattern still remainsOn the wall where darkness fell,
And it's fitting that it should,For in darkness I must dwell.
Like the color of my skin,Or the day that I grow old,
My life is made of patternsThat can scarcely be controlled.

Anyways ... to each his own...I hardly study at all ,except a day before the exams(my grades do more than justice to this statement),am putting my luck on my belief that I will get a job which will pay something around the average salary my batch will get, maybe this tendency to gamble will put me in trouble, but who cares?..I belive I have the potential and I try my best to be as good a manager as possible.I had promised myself I won't turn into a rat inspite of being
in the rat race, and I will see to it that I don't turn into what many people say a MBA really means- 'Masters of Bull-shit and Arrogance' !!

And so it begins...

2006-04-22T11:52:00.001+05:30

I miss writing I guess ... it's not that I am so busy that I can't write, it's not that I claim I write really well and it's not that I have written a lot , but the stuff I used to write gave me satisfaction, to say the least. I have lost some of my favourite stories thanks to a computer virus which mercilessly destroyed the hard drive.I was away in IMA then chasing a dream which turned so sour when this happened.Had I been home I would have saved my stuff before some
idiot of a computer mechanic formatted the C drive! It was in school that I discovered that writing short stories was much more fun than doing mathematics.While my marks went lower and lower , the pages of my exercise book filled up with doodlings,cartoons,nonsense verse and stories.In college I discovered Simon & Garfunkel, and writing down their lyrics in every class was obviously more fun than listening to a gargoyle telling something about the cilia lining the oral sac of a Paramecium!During the IMA days I really had no time to be creative.The only consolation was remembering Catch-22 and thinking yourself to be an Yossarian of sorts.There was this incident when we were standing in attention during a fall in and the Battalion Under officer, a Surd, walked by us whistling Colonel Bogies March.Immediately the line popped in my head 'Killer Khalsa whistled Col. Boogies march as we stood in attention'.The situation was quite surreal, but then, so was the entire IMA experience.I still doodle,I still draw cartoons in class , I have taken up composing inane songs after getting drunk and singing them in public. I hardly write anymore.The ideas coming to my head just die a lonely death or are filed away in a secret corner of my mind for future action. I just hope I can write again someday. Maybe I will...maybe this blogging thingie is a start...maybe this will take away the dreaded block which comes whener I try to write nowadays ...maybe..

oh calcutta !

2006-04-20T12:15:00.001+05:30

Everytime I get out of the HSBC office I just get the feeling that I have been transported back in time. This place(BBD Bag) is predominantly an office area, and most,if not all, of the buildings date back to atleast 100 years or more.The dates of establishment are inscribed in roman numerals MCMIX, MCMXII, etc. Most of these buildings bear a notice 'heritage building' The British colonial architecture is predominantly seen all around here , and it gives you a weird feeling to think that these buildings once played host to the British Bureaucrats and the Indian babus barely a hundred years ago!...these buildings have witnessed the freedom struggle right in front of them.

A stones throw away is the GPO,built in 1864 ,another architectural treat for the eyes. In the days of yore, the old fort of the British stood where the G.P.O. stands today. On the eastern staircase of the G.P.O., an inscription is visible even to this day. The lines in the adjacent steps and pavement, mark the position and extent of part of the South East bastion of old Fort William which is 95 feet from this wallIts high domed roof and tall Ionic-Corinthian pillars give the building an imposing appearance marking the boundaries of the former Fort William, destroyed during Shiraj-ud-Daulah's attack on the British Settlement in 1756. It is also alleged to be the site of the notorious Black Hole of Calcutta.
Nearby is Writers Building(the Secretariat) probably the only government building that was named by the British after the clerks who used to work for them(hence 'writer's building') The present building was built around 1780...whew ...thats a long, long time ago !!

Enough history lessons for now