Calvin & Hobbes

Calvin & Hobbes

White Girl In Punjab

WTH is a White Girl Doing in Punjab?
Any Indian would agree that India is a great place. Many still would prefer to go abroad and study elsewhere but most come back home to good old India. At least that’s what they tell me. Of course, they also tell me that I could never live in India. Their reasoning is that life in the US is too much different and long. life in India is very difficult. They seriously think that an American couldn’t or wouldn’t stick around for

Apparently they don’t know how stubborn I can be. Telling me these things only fuels the fire that makes me find a way to work through the challenges of living here. Yep. That’s right. After being warned I couldn’t live here I packed up my life and moved to Punjab. Am I crazy? Am I stupid? I might just be a little of both but I did it anyway. And don’t ask me why (because I don’t have an answer) but I was a little surprised not to see more foreigners living here.

I landed in India optimistic that life would not be so different here that I couldn’t manage to survive it unscathed. Boy was I wrong! My body had pretty much 0% immunity to the germs and bacteria here so I wound up getting sick repeatedly. There are fruits and vegetables here that I’ve never seen and the foods that I have seen actually go out of season. This wouldn’t be a bad thing if I hadn’t been such a spoiled American used to having everything at my fingertips year round. I lived with just about every convenience you can think of and life does not work that way here.

I was also naïve to think that since I had lived in a joint family system before that moving into this one would be okay. Again I was terribly mistaken! Apparently growing up as a child in a joint family is extremely different than entering one as an adult. Though, I’m not sure that I could pass off all the things that have happened as being mature or adult because there has been some pretty childish stuff going on.

Curious? I don’t blame you – my life is like a TV drama that no one has written about yet. But you can find out more, I write incessantly about the daily craziness on my blog “White Bhabi” and I don’t sugar coat the details. And to answer the question “WTH is a White Girl Doing in Punjab?”….well, I’m living, loving and blogging to pass the time!


_ _ ^ _  ^ _ _
White Bhabi comes over to Sarcasti-Nation all the way from Amritsar, Punjab to tell us something about herself. Visit her blog http://scandaloussneaky.blogspot.com for a taste of the story that she has to tell.

Flatulence

Beware: This is going to be one of the dirtiest posts that I’ve written till date on one of the dirtiest topics possible.



“Flatulence” is just a nice way of saying “Fart” when in the company of classy people talking about art and weather with lips kissing glasses containing vintage wine. The word might be made socially acceptable by the usage of a synonym that sounds less tainted than the original. But that doesn’t change the reputation of its actual meaning, does it?

A Time For Nothing



How far can you go
How wild can you dream
How high can you jump
How deep can you dive
How fast can you run
How long can you sleep
How much can you eat
How happy can you be

The list will never cease to grow.
There is a time and place for everything.
But do I really need to know?
That there ain’t a time for nothing.

Indians Are Obsessed With Fairness



One fine morning, curiosity inspired me to waste some time by scanning the advertisements in the Weddings section of the newspaper. After 5 minutes, I found a not-so-surprising similarity in all the adverts. Everyone wanted a ‘fair’, ‘good-looking’, ‘good-complexion’ woman. There wasn’t a single advert without a specification of that kind.

And I wondered…

What about all the women who are not ‘fair’, do not have a ‘good complexion’, and hence, cannot be classified as ‘good-looking’ by the confused Indian multicultural society.

Questions flooded my mind – Is fairness a primary and necessary trait for a beautiful woman? If someone is fair, but not good looking, is she considered good looking? If someone is good looking, but not fair, is she considered good looking?

ACTIVATE: T.H.O.U.G.H.T PROCESS [Temporary Hiatus Of Understanding Given for Heavy Thinking]

Yeah I know the above line doesn’t make any meaning. Never mind. Let us move on.

So what was I talking about?

Yeah.

10 Things I Learnt From 2 months of College Life



1. College life is pretty exhausting. You’ll wish you had 30 hours to spend each day (20 in college, 4 at home, and 6 under the covers in your bed.)

2. Chances are, that all the good looking girls end up in the other classrooms.

3. Chances are, you’ll have a crush on a senior “didi” (sister) as well as your humanities ‘mam’.

4. Chances are, a lot of people will be after the person you’re after. [Update: Not applicable for me anymore. But aptly applicable for others for sure. Heavy competition. I hope you understand.]

5. Chances are, you’ll discover earlier than expected, how inexperienced you are, with non-boys.

6. Whoever said that ragging is a type of self-education, was a dumb-head (I wanted to say D*ckhead initially, but then I thought dumb is more appropriate than duck. ‘U’ get me?)
7. New words will be added to your vocabulary under the category of ‘slangs’. Even if you use them or not, at the very least, you’ll know what the ‘rickshaw-puller’ just said to the rash driving taxi.

8. You can easily be what you want to be no matter what you were before – The studious first bencher, the last bench prankster, the all-class sleeper, the sportsman, the rockstar, the cool dude, the nature-boy, the talkative, the thug, anything you want to be.

9. Each and every moment, you’ll be creating memories you know that you’ll cherish forever.
10. And yes of course, you’ll learn some physics, mathematics, mechanics, electrical, electronics, and humanities. Not that it is important – it’s just that a part of the money that your parents pay for a happy college life, is donated to a bunch of incoherent fools who write something called a ‘syllabus’ and you’ve got to follow that the night before your exams. (Yes, you’ll learn to insult your Board as badly as that).

Anyway, the upper and lower eyelids of my eyes are begging for some intimate time together. I hope I’ll be back sooner than you can say, “The Xeno forgot that he has got a blog.”
40 followers??? How can I ever forget you guys?

Dear Readers,

I'm soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

NOT

in

And So We Meet Again


‘S’ was right. Nothing really happens when you plan for it.

I remember waking up one morning and rushing upstairs into an empty room to write in my personal diary, about the dream that I had, lest I should forget the details. I had dreamt that I had met S. It probably wasn’t a date but something was weirdly wonderful about that dream. You all must have had those dreams in which you wake up in the morning and you feel super good, and your heart keeps on racing till you share the details of that dream with someone, or at least write it down somewhere. This was one of them.

Note: I’ve seen a number of dreams about S but most of them are so unreasonably-imaginative-with-fairy-tale-cum-filmy-content that I wouldn’t want to embarrass myself by sharing them here.

I’ve seen S very few times in the real world. I’ve only chatted a LOT and talked a FEW times over the phone. Opportunities to meet her and talk face-to-face in a proper manner were virtually extinct. So somewhere within my subconscious self, I’ve had a burning desire to meet her in a ‘proper’ manner aaaaaaand just spend some time with her. Okay, Okay, spend ‘quite’ some time or rather, a LOT of time with her. That would explain those dreams.

Personally, I’m quite choosy about everything. That includes non-boys. I’ve had ‘crushes’ only on blue moon days… yes days – which happened once in my lifetime – oh! Come on! You know! You read my previous post didn’t you. So, S has been the only member in my crush list, and she has been active since the first day I met her. The more I get to know her, the more nicer I find her to be.

So I met her yesterday. And my dream came true. There have been a lot, trust me, a LOT of people who have said horrible things about her to me. I guess they were jealous, envious, or just crazy. I used to wonder, “Why isn’t there anything that I dislike about her? Maybe I’ll find out the day I meet her”. And surprisingly enough, even after meeting her, I never found anything that I could dislike.

I met her for 2 hours and 10 minutes approximately. Regrettably, I wasted the first 1 and half hour behaving like a complete jerk – just staring and smiling at her and stammering utter rubbish. But then I went to the KFC counter for two drinks and shook my head wildly cursing myself. And when I returned to her, I was a bit more normal than before, but not entirely myself yet. I really haven’t yet found out the reason why that happens to me. Every single time she is near me, my brain stops functioning. Initially, it was the same for every random girl. But then I overcame that shyness. But then, it happened again in front of S. In fact, I’ve given it a name too – The ‘S’ Effect – what a dangerous disease! Pray for me!

S was awesome! She looked really pretty in her white dress. I loved her voice, which was better than the voice over the phone. At a point of time, I couldn’t help keep smiling at her without any apparent reason, as she went about expressing herself in her own way – her face reflecting the multitude of emotions while she shook her head and adjusted her hair all the while.

Time passes – woosh! My father, who was waiting to pick me up outside the mall, thinking that I’m busy reading a book in the Starmark bookstore, was giving me incessant missed calls (actually I wasn’t accepting the calls and had kept the phone on silent mode). The most disturbing thing when you’re meeting a special friend is your father calling you up and saying, “Where are you? I’m waiting.”
Dear Father, I’m having the time of my life here. Why don’t you just go away and come back after many hours?

I wished that I could stay there forever – staring at her as long as I could while listening to all that she had to say.

While we were leaving – I didn’t know what to say – maybe because I was feeling really bad that we had to part. I wished that we could have stayed longer. It was really hard. But I managed to say good-bye and walk away, assuring myself that we’ll meet again.

I’m thankful to the person who has written the story of my life. He is truly the best story-teller. And I can’t wait to find out what surprises he has in store for my in my future.

Till then, I’ll just hope and pray that …
Oops! You don’t share your prayers with others! Childhood superstitions! Sorry!

Introducing 'S'



This article was originally written on 18th December, 2010 and published on one of my previous blogs which is going to be deleted. Through this article, I want to introduce to everyone, a close friend of mine. You can call her ‘S’.
The article below was previously read only by ‘S’ because it was published as a password protected post. I am publishing this here so that you too can get to know her and when you read my next blogpost, hopefully you won’t say “What the hell is he talking about? Rubbish!”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Life Just In Between School And College


My school life has come to an end. And it was truly the most tragic and cruel end that can happen to anyone’s school life. No! Wait. It can happen only to me. The chronicles of my school leaving year as well as the last 12 years of my life, shall be stored safely in the strongest vault of my memory, which will be opened, only if humankind comes to the brink of extinction, or if I have my own grandchildren.

Before beginning, let me make my intentions clear. Through this blogpost, I wish to find some sort of a pattern in which the people around me have been behaving in recent times. I wish to gather the clues in front of me, and come to a reasonable solution, to all the things that still trouble me inside.

A Wet Crow

is the ugliest thing that can fly.

Life In Technicolor



12 thousand years back, a caveman used a weird colored rock to scrape figurines of mammoths and brave hunters on the walls of his cavern. He was so amazed by the dark red color that the rock produced, that he let his emotions flow through his hands and on to the walls.
Today, tourists from all over the world visit his cave to experience one of the earliest forms of artwork created – with color.

A thousand years back, a humble artisan inside a dimly lit workshop in Greece, finished painting a vase with black on red clay.
Today, the vase stands proudly inside a display case of a museum, still retaining its former glory – and color.

Five hundred years back, a renowned artist spent 4 years painting the ceiling of a chapel.
Today, visitors just can’t help but stare in amazement at Michelangelo’s masterpiece on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel – the vivid imagery with meticulous detail – and magnificent color.

Colors, like features, follow the changes of the emotions. - Pablo Picasso

Kya Generation Aya Hain

I can bet that the last time that you've heard that line 'kya generation aya hain' is from a person who is not younger than double your age.
And today, you're going to hear it from me - just 19.

"Kya Generation Aya Hain"

Just a few days back, when spirits were high, and friends were at our side, we used to happily sing in chorus -

"Papa Kehte Hain Bada Naam Karega
Beta Hamara Aisa Kaam Karega!"

And look at what everyone is singing now -

"Daddy mujhse bola
Tu galti hain meri"

I say, what is going on? Why are you guys giving the I&B ministry such a hard time editing your movies again and again? Where has all the unconditional "Love you mom Love you dad" attitude gone?
Bollywood movies are pioneers in the task of making the Parents act as villains throughout most of the movie.
Here is a stereotypical example.

Useless Boy loves Rich Girl.
*Cool Song*
Rich Girl loves Useless Boy
*Item Number*
Rich Daddy (who is practical enough and mentally sane unlike his daughter) Intervenes
*Intermission*
Useless Boy and Rich Girl persist
*Romantic Song*
Rich Daddy's becomes villain and tries to take his daughter away.
*Emotional Song*
Useless Boy and Rich Girl re-unite in a twist of tale.
*Dance Song*
In an epic climax, the Rich Daddy's heart melts like ice-cream under the summer sun.
*Victory Dance Song*

Duh!?! Think of something new! If you cut and edit all the improvisations, the above raw format is what is left of any bollywood movie.#

And what is more funny is that even Rajnikanth can't do anything about it.

India v1.0



June 2011 – The summer heat is infuriating our Politicians with the invincible formula of blood, sweat, toil, and increased wages. Food-grains meant for BPL (below poverty level) families are still rotting in the government storage barns while farmers are flocking together under the banyan tree of the sarpanch (panchayat-leader) to watch how Baba Ramdev’s fast on the small black and white TV. The youth of our country with their indomitable spirits are sitting at home on their couches watching MTV Roadies 8, all the while, tweeting profane words about the ruling UPA government. Here is a comprehensive list of all that is happening right now.

After-Exam Reading List

It took me a week to realize that my exams have finally ended. Not that I'm unhappy about it. But in some remote corner of my heart, I did feel pangs of guilt for all those books which still have the smell of fresh paper concealed within the pages. So to console myself, I bought a few story books to read (and smell).



So the first book that I bought was Dan Brown's The Lost Symbol - the international bestseller which I've been so desperate to read for the last couple of months but didn't get the opportunity or parental monetary allowance to buy. But now that I have, it has become something like a pair of spectacles which always stays right in front of my eyes, all day, no matter what.








The second book that I bought was Frederick Forsyth's The Cobra - another international bestseller which I've been itching to read for a long long long ... (10 times more) time.







Confessions with Conscience


Today morning, when I was cleaning my book-shelf a.k.a. The Divine Den Of Doom (3D), a crumpled piece of paper dropped on the floor. I opened my nuclear-radiation-protection gloves and picked it up. It was a poem scribbled with a blunt pencil on a piece of paper which was otherwise filled with mathematical rough calculations. I wish I had a scanner so that I could have shared it with you. Nevertheless, I’ll write down whatever I had written.

When I was writing this poem, the initial intention was to expel my anger and frustration of the pressure of studying. Look how I challenge God. And note how it ends.

Prelude: Winter Vacations – Was (supposed to be) studying – early morning – felt extremely frustrated- exhausted of the pressure – had to vent my feelings – scribbled a poem.


Once on a drowsy winter morning,
On my bed, I lay awake.
Looking at the ceiling, blinking and yawning,
I wondered if God was all but fake.

Review and Suggestions Please!

Indian Top Blogs recently reviewed my blog on request. And I'm quite happy about the review that they gave to my blog. I am seriously going to consider the suggestions that they have put forward.

But I need your help too. If you really think that my blog lacks something with regards to content, design, navigation, appearance, readability, size of font, etc etc or if there is any other aspect which I have been stupid enough not to think about, and which you would really like to see on my blog, kindly comment and help me out here. Remember, I'm still a newbie! (2.5 months old). If you want you can lambaste me with sarcasm but take care not to make me cry, please!

Here is the review that Indian Top Blogs gave me.

Intelligence Failure - Obama vs Pak

A Midnight Acquaintance



LP: “It was midnight. The moon stood transfixed at its zenith in the depressed blue sky, as white smoky clouds swirled over the gleaming white orb as it looked like a fortune-teller’s magic ball delving deep into a curious man’s after-life. And sometimes it almost seemed like the cauldron of an evil witch brewing potions to trick the daring young men who venture into the woods in search of monsters to slay or treasures to take away. The chilly winter wind never failed to hasten the snowflakes which would otherwise drift at ease and choose a tree-branch to rest upon. The Park across the lonesome street looked enchanting that night, with the fresh sheet of snow that it had received – the solitary ashen angel on top of the gothic fountain at the centre of the park, the rows of old wooden benches and lamp-posts, the leaf-less trees with brown branches encumbered with the weight of the accumulated snow. Everything looked so magical yet placid. Comatose - all but the distant city across the lake sparkling with thousands and thousands of lights embroidered on to the black skyscrapers. A retiring fishing boat glided over the lake, reticent about its day’s hard work. Just over the distant horizon…”

TRAMP: “Arr! Stop it fella!”

Sneak Peak Into The Future Of Sarcasti-Nation

I can hear all the exuberant screams and frantic shrieks, as I sit in the backstage sofa, with a martini touched to my lips. As the liquor drains into me, my spirit invigorates with pleasure. Security personnel in black t-shirts run about in the corridors shouting into their walkie-talkies, asking for backup. Someone complained about too many people flocking at the backstage entrance.

"So far, so good." I think and smile to myself, all the while staring at my Berluti shoes.

One more sip, and I'm ready to face it. I stand up, and glance at my breguet marine royale. 30 seconds to the final moment. I begin walking towards the stage side-entrance. The screams grow louder. I start walking into the stage hidden behind the prussian blue curtains. I stop at the center of the stage. I take a deep breath, and nod my head. The curtain parts.

And the audience goes crazy. They howl, shriek, shout, and scream at the top of their voices. Everyone cranes their neck to get a better view and waves their arms frantically, hoping that I might notice the person, even if it is for a split second. There is a row of fuming hot girls in the front wearing black t-shirts each with an individual letter spelling, 'S-A-R-C-A-S-T-I-N-A-T-I-O-N'. Everyone jumps about and screams as loud as they can in a moment of unrestrained euphoria.

Why does Political campaigning always have to sound like...

Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah My Actions will speak not words Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Don't Give Them A Single Vote Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah  Blah Blah Blah Blah So You Should Vote For ME Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah I will give you Ration, Roads, Water, and the occassional Booze Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah
Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah
Vote on this symbol only.
Thank You.
Jai Hind

Do people reveal their true Identity on Social Media?



This post is being written for Blogjunta's THE GREAT DEBATERS, season-1, Debate-2.

Before starting off, let me swear to humanity and Whoopie Golderg’s beautiful face, that I am going to be as honest as a mirror here.
[Family-sized Clap]

Confession: Initially, I was quite fickle to choose one side of the topic. But after 3 hours, 54 minutes, and 27 seconds of reflection, contemplation, deliberation, rumination, and meditation, I’ve finally decided to write AGAINST the topic.
[Rock Concert Audience Cheer]

So lets start off!
[Deafening Roar Of 300 Spartan warriors]

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

My Last Serenade




















I’d like to write a painful song
Sitting below a green tree
Speak about all that has gone wrong
Imprisoned emotions set free

I won’t use any hard words
Will keep it simple and sweet
Gaze blankly at the little birds
Which venture near my bare feet

Look at the vast empty blue sky
And picture her pretty face
Just as the precious moments pass by
I’ll scribble in my diary at a slow pace

The Power Of Words

Link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9_tCtvmAm4M&feature=related


Sometimes I wonder, what does this world need today? A Leader? An effectual political system? A charismatic orator? Or nothing but a divine intervention? In all the chaos and anarchy going on around us, where can we find the answer to all our questions?

And all of a sudden, a voice sounding weirdly similar to my own speaks out. The answer lies within each of us.

This world can never be a better place due to the actions of one amongst a million. The pyramids of Egypt or the Taj Mahal was not built by one man. Similarly, this beautiful earth which we are losing has to re-built by individual action.

And then again, questions are born. And I am sure, that regardless of how we have reacted to them, these few questions were faced by each and every person on earth, who cared. And most of the time, what prevented us from acting beyond those questions, were just suitable answers.

My Awesome Followers

Sometimes it so happens that I log into my blogger dashboard and discover that I’ve got a new follower.
Wow! That’s great! One more follower! A nice feeling! That’s all.

But then again, when I view my blog and my eyes wander off to the followers list…

Oww My God! What the ffff…. !!!
*blink twice*
*rub my eyes*
*blink again*
*pinch myself*
“Am I dreaming? Is this really happening?”

I feel like a wet cat in front of the most menacing bulldog.
I feel like a light plastic bag caught in a tornado.
I feel like a small goldfish in front of a whale shark.
I feel like a live chicken about to be cut into pieces.
I feel like a punching bag in front of Vijendar Singh.
I feel like Manmohan Singh in front of Barak Obama.
I feel like Shah Rukh Khan in the Eden Garden Stands.
I feel like a football in front of Roberto Carlos.
I feel like a plagiarist in front of The Xeno(oh! That’s me!)
I feel like a road-side tea shop in front of a McDonald’s outlet.
I feel like a 2 year old kid facing Lasith Malinga’s bowling attack.
I feel like a pigeon in front of an F-22 raptor aircraft.
I feel like a lizard in front of Godzilla.

TT - #1 - The Television





















Spark Spark Sizzle Sizzle

And a bright white light shone at the far end of the strange room.

Dave turned around and had to cover his eyes. The sudden outburst of dazzling white light blinded him momentarily. As his eyes began to adjust to the brightness, his face turned pale and he gasped in horror.

How To Hack Indiblogger













So, do you really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really want to know how to do it?

Very well.

Disclaimer Notice: The following article is purely educational and informative and the author has no intention to influence his readers to eternal psychosis.

Statutory Warning: The following methods have been performed by the highly trained specialist individual named ‘The Xeno’ under divine supervision. Please do NOT try this at home. You MAY however try this at your Father-In-Law’s home.

Take a deep breath. And follow these ‘simple’ instructions given below.

Why I Hate You And Your Blog


Recently I've taken to writing my blogposts in notepad first. It has a lot of hidden advantages. Firstly, is doesn't have a spell-check feature or an auto-correct option. Then I copy it back to the old Aunt Ms. Word. This helps me become more self-conscious about the spelling and grammar errors that slip inside unnoticed. One red zig-zagged underline is equal to one tight slap on my own cheek.

Sometimes, when a tiny grammatical error creeps into one of my innocent blogposts, I feel tortured. It is almost as if I am the reason why a virgin blogpost was physically abused in public. It gives me excruciating pain.

Don't ask me what happens in one of those once-in-a-blue-red-green-or-black-moon nights when i publish a post and after receiving more than 20 pageviews on that post I realize that there is a cleverly camouflaged typographical error smirking at me. Eternal Damnation and Disgrace - The End.

The same applies for blogs I read as well.

There are two things I can't tolerate in any blog.
1. Grammatical And Spelling Blemishes
2. Plagiarism

The 10 Things That Make A Stereotypical Bollywood Movie




An actor says sweetly, “Bade Bade Deshon me aisi chhoti chhoti baatein hoti rehti hain” and a million girls melt in front of their television screens.

“Awwwww”

Its true. Bollywood constitutes a substantial part of the entertainment needs of any Indian, rich or poor. Everyone loves to take the weekend off to catch the latest thriller or romantic comedy in their local theatres. Age-old movies like “Sholay” become the reason for an entire evening spent in front of the television set. Even not-so-old-yet movies like “Dilwaale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge” commonly known as DDLJ, grab a large chunk of television rating points every odd Sunday. From the little toddlers to the false-teeth grandmothers – everyone likes to join in.

So despite piracy being a rampant profitable business in every street/locality, the actors and producers still manage to make a fortune out of every hit movie that makes it to the box office.

What the hell is the box office? I mean, everyone speaks about it. But what is it actually? Is it an office shaped like a box which counts the profits made by a movie? Is it an office shaped like a box which stores DVD copies of good movies?

Never Born Free

 One of my novice attempts at poetry. Hope I can send through an important message.
















Love is but a weakness
Trust is waging war
She may just be a tigress
Or a shining night star

An aura in the sky
In graceful silence
Whispers drift by
Of her mystic presence

My Dream College


[Technorati Claim Code: UV969PGD6MSE]

Just as the Class 12 final board examinations end, and the competitive examinations come in, it is the most freak-out time in the life of a science student.

We try to ignore those heartless(and headless) art and commerce students who leap into malls and movie theaters as soon as they are allowed to step out of the examination halls. And look at those cold-hearted animals! They do not feel the pangs of guilt a non-criminal man should. Moreover, they do not bother thinking twice before uploading their pictures on facebook. It is outrageous I tell you!

And we poor science students have to open our books once again, and go through those same pages again and again.

Justin Bieber Revealed

Boy is now online.

Boy: <Ping> You there?

Girl is now online.

Girl: Yes. Hi! Sorry I was invisible?

Boy: Which guy were you trying to avoid?

Girl: Oh! :D ... umm... forget it!

Boy: Finally, we have a revelation of the truth.

Girl: And what is that?

Boy: Justin Bieber, as you know, (and I don't want to know) is supposedly a talent. Sorry, but I beg to differ on that.
Disclamatory Notice:
I do not wish to be defamatory of any artist who is well-loved by the women species. I am not jealous. I repeat, I am NOT jealous which is almost always the answer that Bieber fans use to console their hearts against criticism. Honestly, I've had better things to do.

Forsaken

This is Bibi Aisha, with a prosthetic nose, often used by film actors. Look at the image at the end of this post.

And I have nothing else to say.













As written by Lynsey Addario of National Geographic, I quote, “Bibi Aisha was 19 when I met her in Kabul's Women for Afghan Women shelter in November 2009. Her husband beat her from the day she was married, at age 12. When he beat her so badly she thought she might die, she escaped to seek a neighbor's help. To punish her for leaving without permission, her husband, who is a Taliban fighter, took her to a remote spot in the mountains. Several men held her while he cut off her nose, ears, and hair. She screamed—to no avail. "If I had the power, I would kill them all," she told me. I wanted to be strong for Aisha to give her hope she would be fine again. But when she described that moment, I began to cry.”


3WW - #1 - The Cow On The Tree

This is my first post for Three Word Wednesday. Hope you guys like it. The three words were Adamant, Fabricate and Peculiar.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I was a little kid with about 7-8 years of life experience on earth, I remember having a peculiar imagination. Sometimes it was appreciated. Sometimes it was laughed off. Sometimes it was accepted as a blatant lie. And that hurt me deeply. Being a liar, was one of the greatest sins I had ever heard of at that age.

Yet, imagination has its own rules. You can't blame high levels of imagination, to have a potential of turning perfectly innocent people into liars.

I can recall one such incident in the early years of my childhood.

My grandfather was a man who loved me more than anything else on earth. And I could always feel that. He was an intelligent man with a long record of achievements to boast of. I would often join him in his room in my spare time to chat with him about all that mattered. He used to shower me with expensive knowledge about his experiences and ordeals in life.

One fine morning, after breakfast, I went to his room and seated myself on the bed beside him. My face showed an impregnable deep contemplation of worldly matters of wisdom.

"Yesterday while returning from school I saw a cow on the tree.” I said, letting go of the troubling thought.

Moving into Privacy Mode

Recently one of my friends alerted me that i should check whether my personal images were appearing on google image search. And Holy Cow! It was!

For the first time in my life, i felt sincerely concerned about my internet privacy and about how much of my information is under my control. I realized that i was giving away too much of personal information about myself, which was way beyond my levels of comfort. There was an urgent need of shifting to stealth mode.

So you will notice a change from now on. I won't be using my actual name or image anymore. So from now on,

I Am 'The Xeno.'

Yep. Thats right!

The word 'Xeno' according to wikipedia here means a prefix based on the Greek word "Xenos", meaning stranger. And according to Dictionary.com here it means indicating something strange, different, or foreign.

Do you like it? Cool!

Oh, so you don't! Sorry I can't help it. If you have any better name suggestions please comment and help me out here. I was kinda inspired by few other bloggers whom i follow, with kinda weird names which were unexpectedly cool.


And there is more!


The Xeno is now on twitter too! With the account name as Xenoman! You can follow me if you want. I can guarantee you instant notifications about my new blogposts (not mentioning evident madness involved), and random fun. Here I am > https://twitter.com/#!/xenoman.


Signing off,
The Xeno.(Alter Ego of You-Know-Who)


Useful Info: If you too wish to remove those personal images from google search, you can get help Here.

Avoiding Writer's Block [Join The Clan]


What is Writer’s block?

It’s a condition in which writers and bloggers fail to produce fresh, new work due to a multitude of unspecific reasons like –
lack of inspiration,
troubled mind,
tiresome day at the office,
silly quarrel with their spouse,
death of a family member,
bite of a street dog,
nibble of a chipmunk,
fear of a dark alley,
swollen ugly pimples,
lack of quality alcohol,
kiss of a grandmother,
cobwebs in the room,
cockroach on the keyboard,
disobedient snooze alarm,
constipation,
famine of pocket-money,
new infatuation,
insult from a good looking girl,
dark circles under the eyes,
broken computer,
fractured fingers,
too many bills,
new chick in the neighborhood,
failed attempt at nirvana,
alice in wonderland syndrome,
exploding head syndrome,
ATF syndrome(Addicted to Facebook),
death, suicide, psychic, and gothic metal,
exams nearby,
and a hell lot of other reasons which only bloggers themselves will know about.

Ancient Manuscript Predicts Japan Quake and Lady Gaga
















24th March 2011, Rajasthan: An ancient scroll manuscript containing apocalyptic predictions was accidentally dug up by a tourist who was on an expedition travelling through the Sahara Desert. The decaying papyrus manuscripts made shockingly exact accounts of many world events like the Japan Earthquake and Tsunami, Lady Gaga’s new album, as well as Kim Kadarshian’s secret wish to become an investigator.

The text contained a complex jumble up of words and numbers. An IIT aspirant, from the nearby town of Kota was called in to solve the riddle. Adbhutiya Acharyanathan, drove a quick glance through the entire scroll before starting to scribble calculations in a rough sheet of paper. After an eager 7 minutes 23 seconds, he had it cracked. He said, “It wasn’t too hard. Some of the calculations were from the 1998 and 2001 paper. I have learnt it by heart, so it wasn’t a problem. But the rest of it is just Shakespeare style writing.” The manuscript, along with the boy’s interpretation, was sent to the A-M.A.N.I.A.C. (Archaeological Manuscripts Archives Needed In Apocalyptic Conditions) for safekeeping and further research. An old man representing the association, expressed his gratitude on being handed over this ancient treasure. He spoke about how he and Nostradamus used to share their lunch boxes in school, and how he had tried to stop him from running away to the caves when he had failed in written English.

An Interview With - Who? [Part 1]


Yes, An interview with me, myself – The Xeno. Kindly put on your hyperbole-prevention-helmets (HPH).


X X X X X X X X X X X X X Part 1 X X X X X X X X X X X X X

After being rejected several times, finally, on 24th Of March, the heavens blessed me the chance of a lifetime. My appointment request for a face-to-face interview with The Xeno was confirmed.
That morning, was probably the most important day of my life as I made my way through the large iron gates of The Xenoic Villa. I felt like an ant, walking through the cobbled-stone pathway littered with autumn leaves and patterned by the shadow of the sunlight glinting through the overhead arch formed by the branches of aspen trees flanking me. Soon enough, the trees and the garden made way to show me the most spectacular view of the mansion.

Amazing Mind Trick

This is TRULY one trick which made me feel like an asinine macrocephalus (as i have said i am not on the sidebar). This is a really cool cool cool trick which i am sharing with you.

Okay Now follow the instructions carefully or this wont work. Be honest.

See if you are a lateral thinker.

15 Penultimate Requirements for Studying - Part A

I should tell you about the way I study. But please don't even attempt to follow it. High risk factors involved.

1. Activity - The room must be void of any Human life/activity.

2. Auricular Disturbance - The room should be perfectly soundproof. I don't care if it makes me claustrophobic. But there shouldn't be any external audible interference which disturbs my otic sensitivity to point 3.

3. Auricular Satisfaction - Music is a must. The genre varies according to the subject. Math requires pure hard rock. Chemistry needs trance/techno. Physics demands soft acoustics or instrumentals. Computer Science needs hip-hop. The only exception to this law is English. Music and English study don't go together.(so you can presume which is the only subject I like paying 100% attention to!)

Just The Feeling I Still Have

The following is an excerpt from my diary dated 2nd February, 2011.
And the feeling still remains, although the chill has gone away.
Whoosh!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Another chilly winter morning. I stepped out of the door once, just to take in a whiff of the polluted air outside. But a dry cold breeze ushered me back inside. Almost instantly, my nose tingled…

Achooo!

And the tip of my nose turned into a pinkish red, just like the blush of any shy girl.

No actually it didn’t. Just the “Achoo” part occured.

Nevertheless, I returned to my room, concealed myself below a blanket and blinked at the physics book open in front of me. Yes physics was my weakest subject and i do not blame anyone for that. But why me? I mean, i could have been a genius in science! I could have cracked the IIT and ISI while half-asleep.

But that was not written on my forehead.

Instead some other bull-shit story about a stupid guy with stupid failures appeared in italicized  print. I really think God should have thought twice. A guy like me wasn’t such a bad bargain after all.

Let’s see if he continues with his bull-shit story or finally brings in a new dimension in my life like a breath of fresh air inside an air-tight furnace burning rubber tires.

Take The First Step - Earth Hour 2011


























3.21 am.

It was one of those nights when I had woken up before my alarm. Irritated by the fact that I could have slept for 9 more precious minutes, I wanted to investigate the cause.

There was some kind of a weird repetitive ‘shwish-and-hum’ noise coming from the road. I dragged myself to the verandah to investigate. I was welcomed into the night outside with a fresh moist breeze and the same weird noise; louder this time.

I wasn’t surprised to see the source of all that noise. A group of people, a heavy compactor, and a large tar-stained container, were working hard to mend all the potholes. The men were armed with stonechip-filled shovels and grime on their arms. The large container billowed thick black smoke as it burned the tar and charcoal inside. Following the broad trail of the smoke, my eyes met the pearl white moon transfixed in the middle of the night sky.

Another cold gust of wind caressed through my unkempt hair and made me shiver. At once, something wonderful happened. I felt at one with the world. Everything seemed non-existent; The veranda, the street lamps connected with a jumble of wires, the packed rows of houses springing up from every bit of empty land, and the road being repaired. And I thought to myself, ‘Is this where it all ends? Is this what our ancestors had imagined the future would be? Is this progress of technology? Is this advancement of mankind? Is this the 21st century? Is this my earth? Is this me?

There was no answer.

Now Is The Time


It’s weird how time passes by us like a stealthy ninja, all the while, stealing everything that we have with us. It is like an experienced thief as it skillfully pick-pockets everything. Sometimes it even manages to take away the things which we have always held close to our heart. And today for the first time in my life, I am scared that it will take away my heart too. I am afraid that if i do not act soon enough, it will surely take away things which are irreplaceable and are of penultimate importance in my life. It will cordon off my dreams and push me towards the common-folk whom i have despised all my life.

The fantasy world in which i was living was mercilessly shattered to pieces and i was given a bitter bitter taste of reality. And i realized that i was living in a world of hypnopompic delusions based on fake superficies like…

“Oh that won’t happen to me.”
“I dont think that is possible.”
“This wont affect me.”
“That cant be the answer.”
“Bad happens, but this time it wont.”

But it took me some time. And i fear that after all is over, i might suddenly realize that whatever i had realized was not what i was supposed to.

My Self Demolition

I can’t feel myself at all.

I’m just numb all over.

The journey from big to small,

runs through my memory, this october.

~

Life departs, and starts again.

But never ever complete.

People die in restless pain,

The forgotten sarcophagus will deplete.

~

Hopes lost, and dreams suppressed,

I can only weave mystic words.

How can we leave feelings unexpressed?

When we want to fly with the birds!

Renovation - A New Look


I think its time for a change.
8 days. 8 posts. 23 unique visitors. 1 follower. 2 comments.

And now I think that what my blog needs is a better theme with more readability, minimalistic design, lesser page loading time, but should look like a handsome blog too.

So after browsing through thousands of templates, I managed to make a shortlist. Incidentally, the two templates which I like the most, belonged to my previous blogs ‘Reaching4sky’ and ‘Kafkaesque Theories Of A Jobbernowl’. So lets see which template impresses me the most. I would have thrown this situation out to 
my readers as a poll itself but then again, I don’t have many readers.

But my blog has grown up. 8 days old! Now after the template change, you can automatically assume that there will be better blogposts in the near future.

Early Morning Technical Romance


It was a dark night; definitely darker and more exciting than the one just after your marriage. There were only the two living souls in the otherwise empty room- A Computer, and a BSNL Modem Router.

There was love in the air as the two love bugs felt that uneasy closeness which made them blush. Even the mosquitoes hurried into their dark corners with popcorn buckets shouting,"Hurry up! The show is just about to start!"
And so it did.

The UPS charged itself up. The CPU started its romantic hum as the black screen of the monitor faded away to display a warm welcome. The Modem blinked in anticipation.

The saga of eternal peripheral love started. First the power button on the modem gleamed a bright yellow color. Then the ‘Status’ indicator flickered to life. And then finally the USB light sparkled in the dark room. It was a mystic love affair, far from the understanding of a human brain.

What have you done for your thumbs up?




Honestly speaking, I was mighty impressed by Akshay Kumar and his pursuit of a thumbs up bottle; that too, a 300ml one.

Just watch the advert. He does a action-packed sequence of chasing down a thumbs up bottle and often ends up winning a cold-drink as well as a hot chick. Cool, huh?

Girls these days aren’t impressed so easily. I suppose if a sensible girl catches a guy running after a thumbs up truck, she would surely think, “What a freak!”

What Happens Is: Not That it Matters

I remember all those 'good old days' and nights which were so wonderful just because of the presence of one person in my life. And i've never been successful in finding the proper words and adjectives to express clearly my feelings about here.

She was special. Definitely way more special than many others. Not that i ever thought that i loved her; the 'true love' sort of thing. But neither is it that i never wondered whether i loved her. I did.

There were times we used to play 'truth or dare' every midnight via chat. She used to participate equally and i did give her weird dares to perform. And somewhere within my heart i knew that she followed it. She used to give me quite imaginative, well-thought dares, which i couldn't couldn't couldn't help but perform. For example, wearing my t-shirt inside-out to tuition classes, jumping in front of the entire class shouting Yahoo, or even writing silly paper chits and passing on to my most hated enemy. I did it all. There was something so weirdly fascinating about our relationship, which i could never explain. But i will try slowly to do just that, through my blog posts.

Gaga Saves The Day


The earth shook, and the heavens fell apart. Light shone from amidst the deep black clouds upon the tired soldiers with their big fat chemistry books. And suddenly it started raining question papers. They fell from the sky and created a small whirlwind which threatened to turn into a ruthless hurricane. The soldiers dropped their chemistry books and ran for cover. Who could have thought, that the heavens would send upon them such a deadly weapon of mass destruction. This unprecedented catastrophe stole every tiny bit of courage, hope and sun-screen (SPF 60) that was left in the soldiers, and poisoned them with despondency.
There was complete panic at the Chief Strategic Headquarters of the W.H.A.C.K.O. (World Heavily Armed Commando to Kill Opposition). Only two men at the C.D/D.V.D (Central Decisive and Directorate of Vulnerable Decisions) knew that they would have to pass the penultimate verdict which would decide the fate of the universe in this war between heaven and earth. They knew that they would have to take the call. So with tears in their eyes, and cartons of red-bull on the stand-by, they decided to sort it out the intelligent fool-proof way.

“Stone, Paper, SCISSORS!” they shouted bravely.
 And the Fate of the Universe was decided.

Two Of A Modern-Kind


There is often little or no doubt about the fact that all things that have life, can feel and give love. From pre-historic dinosaurs to slimy snakes; from giant sperm-whales to the red and white koi fish in your neighbor’s plush backyard garden artificial fountain-cum-waterfall with the statue of the naked baby with wings peeing at you and smiling mischievously as if to say, “Yeah man! It goes on and on and on…”

There was a time humans loved each other too. But now its all about the external aspects of it.


Men love girls. Yes that remains the same except the fact that the criteria of eligibility has changed. Women now have false eyelids, extra-black ‘kaajal’, coloured locks, lips glittered with the shiniest of hues available, tops with attitude-show-off statements, skirts which seem to be a cheap tailor’s mistake, stilettos which can be used as sewing needles, and an inexplicable thought-process with the on-your-face stance. Of course all that makes it quite enjoyable for the men, and they look extra-sexy when they put on a traditional Indian saree all of a sudden! Despite all that, men still love girls, and the initial attraction takes place at a more external level.