Sunday, July 25, 2010

Bullet Rani

She looked nothing like the conventional pretty girl - pleasantly plump, pierced brow and lip, bandana, tattoo adorned arm and leather boots. Yet, Rani happens to be the most beautiful person I have seen.

Every morning, I watched her zoom into campus on a motorcycle, an oddity in the parking lot of an all-girl college. She showed the helmet its place and walked swiftly to Nescafe each morning..every morning. That she was nearly bald under the bandana didn't make her less radiant for she always had a kind 'good morning' ready. I used to watch her till she was out of sight, oblivious to several 'What's the deal with her hair?' and 'Did she actually shave her head?!' remarks.

Lovely as she was, even the dogs on campus loved Bullet Rani- that was what I heard people call her. She somehow managed to be in the canteen, library and the chapel at the same time! Rani seemed to be everywhere, sometimes spread out in the sun alone while academic sessions were in progress, perpetually with food, iPod carelessly plugged, book in hand with her typical stare-on-I-don't-care look. That she had only one state -happy- seemed to grab my attention always and slowly, I began to seek inspiration in her. Rani's answer to life helped build an attitude impervious to judgement that shaped a person who valued kindness while not letting any turmoil affect the tone of her 'good morning'. A mother soon noticed her eternally pseudo-depressed teen happier than she had been in the recent past and was heard raving about how the 'II PUC stress' had failed to affect her daughter.

After a few months, there was no sign of her in college and the general assumption was that she had graduated. I did eventually find out that Rani didn't really run a razor along her scalp every Sunday; she was on chemotherapy for leukemia. That didn't seem to deter her from effortlessly bringing the Enfield to life with a single kick.

I do not know where or how Rani is is depressing to even think about the success rate of chemotherapy. Every morning as I start the Scooty, there is that one moment of regret for not getting to know Bullet Rani in person, for all the conversations that could have happened over the numerous donuts she downed and for the difference we could have made in each others' lives. All those endless hours idled in the basketball court - an amazing person was just a syllable away.

Monday, June 28, 2010

Recursive function

Sing Aksie's_little_rhyme (sing)


All day I sit
Bite and chew;
Custard, jelly, fruit
And candy blue;
Cheesecake, mousse
And Black forest
Shove stress and unrest;
Dark chocolate cookies
Supplies that never cease;
Freezer full of sundae
Now tackle the goddamn Monday;

Finger chips with dip
Bagels with thyme;
When you're down and out sing
Aksie's_little_rhyme (again);


PS: First four lines of function exist on the rough work page of Friday's VTU booklet. :D

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Fun with Numbers

No math or ugh..’apti’ involved.

While most features of cellular devices remain unperturbed by a large percentage of users, phonebook is a feature that is exploited universally. This virtual register bank not only serves the purpose of associating names with cellular numbers but also acts as a nickname/rude word reminder/memory refresher list. Needless to say, the entire concept of communication would suffer a blow without this technological venture.

For years, I have remained annoyed at textual replies on the lines of ‘sry my contacts gt dltd whos dis??’ and decided to not resort to such feeble means of identity excavation when I had a blank phonebook a couple of weeks ago. A situation encountered is presented next.

Messages received during intra-college fest:

‘Hey wer ru come fast its startin now’
‘Aksie seminar hall at 2’
‘Dude dance started. Come to amphi’
‘Shal v go for treasure hunt?’

It is highly impossible to choose the best alternative with only a minute available for decision making. The following variables have to be considered: event, company soliciting my presence, distance from current location, expected crowd, availability of food and availability of air conditioning.

Can’t ask who the invite is from (against ideals), insufficient balance for several calls (to guess sender’s identity by voice recognition) and definitely can’t go without knowing who else would be there (what if you were seated alone, happy and caught the attention of a sorrow-inducing other?)

Whattodo aa? Simple.

Run down, check the list of events, participate in an individual-entry event you’re sure of winning/getting rigged in your favour.

Else, grab food/beverage/both and gather acquaintances, if any, in shouting radius. Run to terrace, find place under the water tank to watch most events.

Unfortunately, that didn’t happen with me. I toured the entire campus at 1400 hrs, sampling a few minutes of every event, parched and deprived of lunch. Do not add to my misery by seeking description of events witnessed.

Always backup/never lose your cellular contacts. People matter.

PS: Have actually started playing guessing games over SMS now. Works with some people while others think it is fun to piss me off the night before third internals. Let that backup software work..we’ll see. B-)

Wednesday, January 06, 2010

Don't piss me off. I know where you live.

This educative article requires some amount of 'build up' which may be modeled thus:

It is a wonderful feeling to commemorate eleven years on the internet, marked by 'cherished' milestones - lurking in chat rooms at age 11 (circa 2000 AD), owning a web page at age 13 (Geocities closed else I'd link you to it), moderating forums by age 15 and the pseudonym cursedsoul gaining veteran status by age 16. But the peak of elation occurs when you tell kids you've been online since the 90's, witnessing the birth of Wikipedia, growth of Google, fall of innumerable biggies or that you were among the first few broadband users in the whole goddamn country. Pre-release, yes.

Point of bragging : An Introduction to Internet Etiquette for Dummies. Somebody HAD to churn this out.

Subsequent paragraphs are directed at you, you and you.

So you thought you'd go spewing stuff on the internet because the poor souls that constitute your friends list never tell you they think you suck. None of them probably even got the point of you uploading those 289 pictures - 16 with your (insert well-chosen adjective) boyfriend pouting against a dark backdrop, 54 identical shots of three people and alcohol, the rest a collage of solo shots - your eyes, fake tattoos, nostrils, ear pinnae and toe nails. Anyone with a life would be pained to see even Farce-book being abused that way.

Your pictorial abuse may be pardoned because it is not impossible to ignore the 'pics uploaded!!!!11one' notification. But then you choose to stalk GTalk with status messages piled up over a span of months (seriously, dustbin!). Hate to break this to you but nobody cares if you '3 Idiotsss | aal izz welll| Bacardi rocks | Clinic + shampoo!|' or cannot distinguish between the terms status message and profile description. Oh wait if you thought these messages were conversation starters then the junta just obtained adequate material to induce mirthless laughter till Diwali 2010.

And then the concept of Twitter. The whole point of the site, I believe, is to socialize, keep in touch, etcetera. This implies that while your 'followers' would pay rapt attention to events like you winning the lottery, giving away free food, wine or money, they might go on to wish you on your birthday or extend polite condolence upon tragedy. It would hardly matter to them if you 'woke up nw gting l8 gotta go'. Kindly stop Tweeting about your coughs, sneezes and cats. Nobody cares.


Etiquette in the virtual world is not different from that in the real one. Try to not repel people without intending to. If you see a 'busy' icon beside a name, chances are it wasn't placed there by accident and it surely isn't the time to issue a 400 word unsolicited review on Avatar. Kindly refrain from SMS and phone notifications to your photo albums or blog updates because nobody is that keen on seeing your Photoshopped grin. May your status messages not reveal your mother's maiden name or make you assume that aura of 'mystery'. Help keep the virtual world clean. Recycle plastic, use water judiciously and brush twice a day.

PS: If you were linked to this post by an email, do drop in and say hello. :) Chances are we haven't corresponded in years