summer lightning

Invictus

2005-07-06T01:37:00.001-07:00

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

After Cloning...and a lack of posts.

2005-05-27T00:46:00.000-07:00

The summer has thrown up a couple of really weird surprises. Never thought I'd actually ever do this at IIT. Work hard (oh alright just work...) and actually enjoy it (or rather not despise it...). Life is full of the unexpected.

The Menace or How I spent my last 24 or so hours...Part Two

2005-05-21T01:40:00.000-07:00

contd. from Part One below.

The rest of my day was spent with Messers Aseem, Pranjal and Nitin. After having our first dinner at my place we went off to Pranjal's house, which is somewhere deep in West Delhi and usually takes a long long time to get there, though Mr Pranjal Dua sticks to his claim that it os only 5 minutes from Punjabi Bagh. The reason that all of us had decided to go to his place was that he had acquired, albeit temporarily, an X-Box from one of his friends. So we spent the next 8 hours playing NBA 2004, the only conclusion that could be drawn after this 8 hour long marathon was that the only way someone could win a game was by ensuring that Mr Nitin Govind was not supporting him. Though Mr. Govind has been mentioned in a few posts on my blog to most readers he, I think, remains a mystery. A part of reason for this enigma is that Mr. Govind is not a believer of the internet revolution. No one is quite sure when was the last time he came online, for that matter even he isn't sure of his last working email id.

Anyway Mr. Govind is supporting a look that made Surya's mother proclaim a resemblance to "Hero No. 1". Whether she was referring to Mr. Govinda (note the resemblance in names here...) is debatable. I would think he resembles the side kick of the local street gangster in movies such as 'Pandav' which my friend Mr. Karan Malik enjoys watching in his time off. His look or "style statement" as he prefers to call it basically involves weeks of unkept beard growth. Mr Govind was also unfortunately suffering from a condition that my friend Mr. Rustagi also falls prey to at times and requires statements like "Be Brave" to motivate him to do the needful. The effect of this condition was expressed very well by Mr Aseem Suri, who seems to have a knack for these things, who on finding himself standing too close to Mr Govind told him, "Dude, no offence, but u stink." To which Mr Govind, though initially lost for words, later defended himself by stating that "Stink is in."

During the course of the night as NBA raged on, Mr Govind came across a book by the title of 'Vedic Love Signs' ( a good question here would be what was Mr Pranjal Dua doing with a book called 'Vedic Love Signs', he claims that a friend of his left it by accident.) After which Mr. Govind seemed to find new meaning to his life and came up with all these absolutely ridiculous assertions and predictions. This nonsense soon ended when we found out that according to 'Vedic Love Signs' Mr. Govind should be called, I kid you not, "Purva Phalguni" and that his sexuality was defined by the "Female Rat".

I finally dropped off to sleep with NBA still going great guns at 5.30 am. We were woken up with our host Mr. Pranjal Dua coming into the room with a bucket of water and a mug, I assumed that he had had enough of Mr. Govind's...err....aura(?). But I was proved wrong, as he dragged behind him something that looked like a small air cooler, a cuboidal contraption 3 and a 1/2 feet in height, and told us to fill it up if we wanted some cool air. While this was happening Mr Suri had gotten up from his slumbers and after doing his standard morning ritual which consists of looking at Mr Govind, outstretching his arms as if to give a hug and saying "aaja aaja" moved on to the computer, where he started to play the most traumatic of music. The first song by a band called Rouge(I think...) reminded me of Mr Manu Saxena and his Bus Music, the second involved someone cooing "an ass like that" every 30 seconds or so.

Anyway coming back to the miniature air cooler, undoubtedly a novel invention was, I would have thought, not very fascinating. But again I was wrong. For Mr. Govind having woken up substantially and after ignoring Mr. Suri's outstretched arms and pleading voice, looked at it with a kind of benevolent love and said in a dreamy sort of voice "this is my new friend" and proceeded to pat it on its top. He then meticulously proceeded to fill 'his friend' up with water, interspacing the task with expressions such as "Yo brother whats up?". I have known Mr. Govind since quite some time now but have hardly ever see him do something with such intense concentration.

It has on the whole been an immensely enjoyable 24 or so hours.

The Return or How I spent my last 24 or so hours....Part One

2005-05-21T01:22:00.000-07:00

I know this has turned into a long post, but couldn't help it, the words just kept flowing....so I have divided it into 2 parts this is part one.

My Friday began with my phone ringing, at what at that time seemed like the middle of the night, but on further examination was found to be 10.30 am or thereabouts. I groggily said the cursory greeting while trying to discern the owner of this far off voice, while simultaneously wishing death, destruction and mutilation on this gentleman who had disturbed my beauty sleep. The gentleman in question turned out to be none other than Mr. Manu Saxena, of the M.MS from DPS and the B**** fame.

His first words were enough to make all notions of sleep disappear (an anomaly I corrected as soon as I hung up the phone by going back to sleep and waking up 2 hours later). The words in question were, "Arre yaar, Star Wars ki story bata..." And I was left dumbfounded. The only parallel I can draw from my short but sweet existence uptill now is this one time during school when we'd been packed off to attend a creative writing workshop where this female NRI writer asked me to tell her the story of the Ramayana in one line. One line.
Anyway coming back to Mr. Manu Saxena and his quest for knowledge, he went on to inform me that he hadn't seen Episodes 4,5 and 6 but had watched 1 and 2. This I thought was going to take long. So I tried to explain to him who Darth Vader was, but I soon realized the futility of my task. And when I admonished him on his impulsive and idiotic desire to see Revenge of the Sith before watching the original trilogy he came up with a gem, "Arre woh chod, tu mujhe Episodes 1 and 2 ki hi story phir se bata de". Thankfully he soon concluded the conversation but not before telling me, "Agar mujhe kuch movie mein samajh nahin aaya to main tujhse aakar poochunga".

I have just received a call from him, informing me that he really enjoyed the movie. Mr Manu Saxena is a man of many talents.

Striking Back.

2005-05-18T09:33:00.000-07:00

Well the first week of my vacations is over. Its been a slow kind of week, more the kind usually easily spent on a hammock in Goa rather than one braving(here I stick to the usual use of the word unlike my friend Mr. Rustagi, for whom braving would usually involve some soap, water and a towel....) storms out at sea. Its involved catching up with people, some thanks to Mr Graham Bell, the others to the chap(s) who came up with the internet and the msn messenger and some the good 'ol fashioned way, by actually meeting them.

There wasn't much going on the movie front, with Kya Kool Hain Hum and Jo Bole So Nihaal hogging all the theatres, I did not dare to venture close and from what I've heard that was a pretty smart move. So instead I chose to see movies at home. Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade is an absolute delight, the best of the series. Harrison Ford and Sean Connery make it an awesome adventure. For here you have these two brilliant actors as a hilarious father son duo on the greatest quest of them all, a pre Dan Brown search for the Holy Grail. Add to this Spielberg's direction and a script/story(am not sure which) by George Lucas and you have the greatest adventure of them all, peppered with the usual Indiana Jones mirch masala. Indiana Jones is so much 'cooler' than James Bond, here is half the Nazi army after Indi and a diary he carries, so what does he do? He goes and gets it autographed by the Fuhrer himself, take that Mr Bond.

I also saw for the second time Star Wars Episode 2 Attack of the Clones, chiefly in preparation for The event- Star Wars Episode 3 Revenge of the Sith. Its out on the 20th and I can barely wait. A friend of mine, wrote on his blog why Star Wars makes us feel the way it does, and there is no way I can put it better than he did. Read This, even if you don't believe in the force. Read it not just for the brilliant prose but try to understand why otherwise rational people still dream about light sabers and a galaxy far far away....

I also read the review of a movie called Khooni Dracula after it was strongly recommended by my friend Manu Saxena. Needless to say I shall not be looking too hard to get a copy of it. If anyone of you is interested in watching it after reading the review I suggest you contact Manu and I'm sure he'll be able to arrange a CD for you

I also shamelessly lost a game of scrabble to Swati by 34 points, I have to take her on again, lost honour must be regained.

On a random note I did two things that I never thought I'd be doing,

1) Calling up someone and saying, "Hi Rohan, this is Rohan."

2) Reading a sign on a glass door at a restaurant saying, "Glass Door."

On an absolutely random note, the Reader's Digest I get at home is addressed to "Mr. Rohan Rohan Trivedi". And I kinda like the sound of that, so if ever I decide to get a middle name, I think I'll make it Rohan :-)

Until Next Time.

A new hope.

2005-05-11T10:29:00.000-07:00

Its all over. It got over yesterday. And it was simply horrible. But its over now and that's what's important. I thought I'd right an eloquent post, but I can't seem to find the words, this is taking too much of an effort. I don't feel like being bogged down in front of a computer, I didn't feel upto it yesterday, and I don't feel like it today. There are many things I wanted to write about, two books that I wanted to review, elaborate on the saga of the floaters that I finally bought yesterday but not now not here.

I spent the day with Aseem and Nitin, and it was a typical 'the gang' day minus most of 'the gang'. We did the usual, Cafe 100, Barista, hours and hours of endless nonsense and laughter, a chat with Surya from home, a visit to meet Karan's mom, a heavenly cake and a feast meant for kings. We talked about old school times and present college days, about insane teachers and crazier students, of hilarious escapades and a fabled family tree. We ended up with a discussion on the merits/demerits of moving out, of living alone, of independence and responsibility, of parents and understanding, of decisions and dreams.

A collage of phrases, snippets of conversations, my days doings, I list below. Do not judge, do not interpret, its not meant for everyone, just for those who will need no explanation.

A severed hand, an IndiaTrip, a payment for an ass. Aseem's love and club for MJ, deans lists and lost loves, of FC's and NFC's and MC's. Mantriji, charlie's tango and alpha no coffee. Fat black men, 4.0's, night driving. Wannabe DU rockers, free phones and the issues of facial hair. Of a certain Mr Lele and his greeting on the phone.

I had almost forgotten how good life could be.

Major Madness...

2005-05-07T02:37:00.000-07:00

Death where is thy sting?

Note: For the uninitiated Majors are what my end of semester exams are called.

Blood, Toil, Tears and Sweat....and MEP202

2005-04-24T04:00:00.000-07:00

Blood, Toil, Tears and Sweat...and MEP202

2005-04-24T03:59:00.000-07:00

Ask not for whom the bell tolls...

2005-04-19T11:11:00.000-07:00

My To-Do list for the remaining two weeks of the semester is as follows:

1) Term Paper on Art and Politics.

D-Day: May 3rd or thereabouts.

Comrade(s) in Arms: Swati

Guide/Mentor/Hell Raiser: Prof. Sanil, Immanuel Kant, Plato, Aristotle and the rest of the gang.

The Method in this Madness: Well I've already devoted quite some space to this term paper on this blog so no point going into it again. I had my presentation on Saturday and theoretically it could have been worse but I doubt it. Anyway for the completion of my term paper my entire hope rests on Swati pulling me through, I just hope hers doesn't rest on me.

2) Design, Innovate and Manufacture a Stretcher

D-Day: April 23rd, Proudly announced as 'Open House', where all of you are welcome to come and see the 'best and brightest' of IITD (though be fore warned that your sanity may come under a shroud of suspicion if you actually choose to do so.)

Comrade(s) in Arms: Anshuman-Great Leader and other fellow members of 'Avant Garde'.

Guide/Mentor/Hell Raiser:Prof. Kale,Prof. Kale,Prof. Kale,Prof. Kale,Prof. Kale,Prof. Kale,Prof. Kale,Prof. Kale, Prof. Kale...you get the idea.

The Method in this Madness: What does this course entail? It involves things like GANNT charts, Poka Yoke (pronounced as Po-Kah Yo- Key), FMEA, ECN, EMN and the rest of the English and Japanese alphabet in some combinatorial form or the other. It involves us being told to read the New York Times daily. It involves us walking into class to be confronted with the book cover of Cervantes' Don Quixote on the projector screen, whereupon the brain is forced to use all permutations and combinations to come up with a possible relation between Quixote and Design, Innovation & Manufacturing, a task in which atleast I failed miserably. Anyway in a nutshell it involves us innovating, designing and manufacturing a product under the able guidance of Prof. Kale.

My fellow sufferers in this course are designing everything from matchsticks to toilet flushes, while I have the task of designing and manufacturing a stretcher, needless to say besides deciding on a team name (Avant Garde) not much has been done towards this end. By the 23rd we not only have to provide a working model but also pages and pages of engineering drawings, conceptual designs, time/progress sheets, existing patents and more such paperwork in enormous quantities. Oh and we have also been asked to do a product liability analysis. The only problem is I don't see any possibility of a product, so the question of liability doesn't even come into the picture.

3) Innumerable Lab Reports and Other Left over submissions

Comrade(s) in Arms: I would like to hope most of my department but I doubt it. Amol is the only chap who I can say with certainty is in the same boat.

Guide/Mentor/chap-whose-reports-I-will-be-copying: Abhinav, friend, guide, life saver. They say never say never, but one thing is sure that I'll never take a course at IIT without Abhinav. There are risks one ought to take in life, but there's a very fine line between taking risks and sheer stupidity, I know which side I have to stay on. Period.

The Method in this Madness: No method just madness.

4) The Eternal Saga of quizzes, tests and Majors.

I don't think this needs much elucidation. The suffering and pain they cause are quite universal in nature and if you haven't experienced them so far then you're probably iliterate, uneducated or perhaps have no plans of calling IIT your alma mater.

As is evident the next two weeks are promising to be one hell of a ride. The only question is how am I going to get through it, if at all?

The answer, I suspect, is blowing in the wind.

P.S: Due to the above mentioned reasons and the fact that I realize that blogging about them is going to make no difference as far as my getting through with them is concerned, hence I doubt I shall be posting anything much. So until I return with the spoils of the battle (in the form of a dsgraceful grade card most likely..) keep reading and keep commenting. Auf Wiedersehen!

trying times..

2005-04-16T14:02:00.000-07:00

I'm tired of this semester. Just wish it would end quickly, and then for old friends and a long summer break. But before life gets better its going to get much worse...

Edit: Monday, April 18, 10:38 PM.
Surya can't make it, the summer's just lost some of its shine.

Poetry and Me and other tragic tales of Valour

2005-04-09T23:09:00.000-07:00

So I thought I'd try my hand at poetry, again. Unfortunately my writing time is still in single digit minutes, beyond that the attention of Rohan 'the Poet' (let me have my moment of glory...) falters and all that I can think of is rhyming moon with buffoon or in exceptional circumstances with loon. But that's about it. So here goes another result of my 'Herculean' labours.

Discontent

of life, of aim, of love
of goals never set, of goals never reached,
of failure, of eluding success,
of tears never shed,
of things never said.
of colours too bright, colours too dull,
of a mood too morose,
and moments passing in a whirl.
Discontent
of time whiled away
of opportunity wasted
of the missed sunrise
of the ignored sunset
of unthinking actions and loose words,
of insignificance in this life,
in this world.
Discontent.

Sidetracking from my poetic endeavours, I have to do a term paper on 'Art and Politics', for which I've got two books, one of them is 'Morals and Politics'. I have just flipped its cover and inside I have found a notice proclaiming it to be a property of the College of Engineering & Technology ,Delhi. For the uninitiated that was what IIT Delhi started out as over half a century ago. It was in 1962 or thereabouts that the powers to be passed a law in parliament and decided that it shall no longer be referred to as a college but henceforth as an Institute, and this one stroke of genius automatically raised its stature in the world of education.

Anyway coming back to the book, after I had recovered from the initial shock of having issued something dating back to the college days of IIT, on closer inspection I found that this book dated back to 1952,the year 'The College' was initially set up, implying that this was from the first set of reading material that was bought to enlighten future generations, the lowest layer of the foundations of IIT. I also noted the only other time it had ever been issued was in July 1967, after this I fell down on my bed my brain completely exhausted, totally overwhelmed by this sense of history. I have not had the courage to open it again.

After a longish period of recuperation I shifted my attention to the second book, 'The Ideology of the Aesthetic'. I turned its cover with trembling hands but to my relief it had no such information that would leave me with a numbed brain and gaping mouth. So I started flipping through it, big mistake, every few pages my jaw fell a couple of inches further. It was in no language that I even remotely understood. I could read what was written but that was about it. The words, the sentences held no meaning for me. I had a vague idea that the language quite resembled english but beyond that I could not say. I open this book at a random page, pick a random sentence and quote, "Adorno [a bright sort of chap or so I have been told] detects in surrealism, whose montages seem to him to involve a fetishism of immediacy yoked to an arbitrary, undialectical subjectivism."
I will now go and hit my head ten times against the wall, an action by which, I hope such...such...whatevers and its brethren would have dissolved into things I can comprehend. I don't think it'll work but I'm past the point of caring. Now for a brick in the wall, just another brick in the wall.

What happens next?

2005-04-08T12:42:00.000-07:00

This past week I saw two movies and read a book and after finishing all three I was left with a desperate desire to know what happens next.

The two movies in question were were 'Before Sunrise' and 'Wimbledon'. The book was 'From Russia with Love' (I'm going through this James Bond phase...). I'll start with Wimbledon. The question obviously is why should such an average movie leave me wanting more? The simple answer is that I watched a pirated version of the movie and some smart ass had edited out the end leaving me stranded in the final game of the final set of the championship finals. That's one way to build up the tension...
Before Sunrise is a wonderful movie with an absolutely brilliant screenplay and great acting. An interesting thing I realized was that in the entire movie the only names we get are the first names of the protagonists and the conversations between them are simply brilliant. And as I'm aware of the existence of its sequel I can't wait to see 'Before Sunset'.

Now coming to From Russia with Love, (for all those of you who haven't read it yet wish to do so would do well to skip the next few lines if they don't want the ending revealed), as those of you who have read it would know that it ends with Mr Bond being poisoned and apparently fainting after neutralizing all the concerned 'nefarious villains' in his characteristic style. This ending has left me with wanting to read the next Bond book really badly. I do know that Bond will survive, I am not even too curious to know how he will manage that but this has nonetheless increased my anticipation of the next book. By the way FRWL is an absolutely amazing book. The Best 007 novel I have ever read. Supremely exciting, a brilliantly conceived plot which keeps tension and suspense at an all time high. With SMERSH, the Orient Express and a beautiful Russian spy in love with Bond, it is a spectacular read.

Peace and Beyond

2005-04-03T11:14:00.000-07:00

The end to all hostility...

Oh by the way I just remembered this cool quote I came across in 'Goldfinger' and which is totally inappropriate for this post...

~Goldfinger to Bond, "Once is coincidence, twice is happenstance and the third time its enemy action."

salut.

My literary Pursuits...#1

2005-04-02T05:42:00.000-08:00

This past week I finally read George Orwell's 'Animal Farm', and I absolutely loved it. I have hardly ever read anything as good as this. Once I was done reading and basically marveling at it, I was confronted with a persistent problem that I face whenever I read a book or see a movie that I really really like. That is once I'm through with it and am asked about it, I lose all sense of objectivity and all I can do is spill out superlatives in a voice full of awe without being able to tell people why they should read/see it except because its awesome, amazing, f***** cool...blah blah blah. I kind of wonder how professional reviewers do it...

Another book I read last week was Ian Fleming's 007 novel 'Goldfinger'. For all those of you who haven't seen the movie or read the book, the story is like most Bond thrillers. A dastardly villain, couple of beautiful ladies and lots of crooks, car chases, colossal evil schemes and Mr. Bond taking you through a pretty eventful ride. The dastardly villain is a chap called Auric Goldfinger with a particular infatuation for what else but gold. This infatuation leads him to do things like smuggling/stealing huge cache's of gold and killing pretty ladies, who've injudiciously spent time with Monsieur Bond (and we all know what happens when pretty ladies spend time with him), by painting them with gold.

Anyway another character in the story is a lady called 'Pussy Galore' (Ian Fleming's attraction and use of...umm...'feline characteristics'...is not limited to this book, 'Octopussy' being another example of his failings.) Anyway Ms Galore (I'm dropping the first name...it ain't proper!) is introduced to us as a voracious lesbian, but by the end of the novel, like all 'Bond Girls' we find her in the arms of our hero, cooing something about never meeting a real man and quickly dispersing with all notions of her being 'different'. Even for a series of books notorious for their sexist attitude, I think this beats everything hollow. James Bond is sold as a true superhero, he can do anything, and I mean anything. Go Bond!

MINORity Report

2005-03-26T04:48:00.000-08:00

On Wednesday, 23rd March, 2005, I gave my 40th minor at IIT. This is my fourth semester and by now i have given 8 sets of minors, that makes a grand total of 40 exams. By now one would assume that i would have found some method in this madness, some streak of wisdom which would enlighten me on the reason why for 10 days a semester must my life, a generally bright and sunny proposition, turn into gloom, despondency,and basically not seem worth living.

I hate my exams. Passionately. From the bottom of my heart and soul, with every nerve, muscle and sinew. A major reason for this may be that until now i have been unable to fathom why must i give my minors at all. What, I ask is the purpose of a set of exams in which, learning i do not seek, knowledge i do not acquire, studying i do not do and marks i do not get.

During these last minors as I sat mulling over the sad current state of affairs, brooding on the above mentioned question, I suddenly realized there is something that i do during almost all my minors in addition to pondering over the above mentioned question. The above mentioned question(hereforth to be known simply as AMQ) invariably leads me to the question what the hell am i doing here (yes i admit, occasionally the question is not what am i doing here but how the hell did i get here in the first place....and in some rare moments of absolute disgust the question has a habit of changing to how the hell do i get outta here... but these are rare moments indeed)

And then it dawned on me perhaps this is the reason why minors were made. It is after all only during my minors do i really reflect on my life, where i want it to head and what part must iit play in it. What is it that i want to take away from iit two years hence (i am an optimist.period.). Is this the answer to the AMQ, I am yet not sure, I do not see the light at the end of the tunnel just faint inkling of a glow, more imagined than seen perhaps. The answer, in its certainty, i suspect will only come to me during my next set of minors. If I were a superstitious guy I would say it would take me 2 more exams. But asking these questions and then trying to answer them is by far the most worthwhile task i have ever done during my exams.

But I am quite sure, no matter whatever the results of my quest for answers, my passionate distaste for these minors will not go away. For no matter whatever the quetions they raise they still continue to be an exercise in futility, atleast for me.

how to be a hero

2005-03-23T22:54:00.000-08:00

I just took an online test right now, this is the first ever that ive actually ever taken. And after answering questions for what seemed like eternity, it came up with this -

"You're clever, funny, and full of surprises. If you're still in school, you're probably the class clown. If you work, you're probably on the verge of being fired - but who cares? Your job's boring anyway. When it comes to leisure, you'd rather watch cartoons, crash a wild party, or stage a practical joke than have an elegant tea with your grandma. You're not big on being "civilized" or following "rules" such as that pesky "speed limit."

Above all, you're a trendsetter and a force of chaos. You see tradition as something to be questioned, structure as something to be toppled. You're popular, charming, and entertaining to be around. You'd make a great actor, comedian, or a rock musician. Everyone loves having you at parties, because with you there, no one has a chance of getting bored.

(Moi Rock musician???)

Your Mission:You were put on this earth to humble people. They will be easy victims, because they're attracted to your charm and wit, and they're too slow to see what you're doing behind their backs. You are the one who has to pull the rug out from under the big guy, because let's face it - you're the only one who can get away with it.

Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to Get Away With Something. Something small, or something big (but please, something legal). Make your boss laugh at himself. Get money for a homeless shelter by posing as a panhandler. Do coin tricks for kids. Get away with an awful pun. Run for governor of California. Get away with SOMETHING."

I, as i gather from this much informative sute am a "Rogue" (i gather one can aso be a wizard or paladin and something else..but none of them i believe compare to a "Rogue")

and according to the site being a "Rogue" means...

"It's a good thing I use my powers for good and not evil, because quite frankly, I could get away with murder. I'm clever, tricky, and charming. I know how to make you laugh with one hand and pick your pocket with the other. Not that I'd ever DO that, of course..."

hmmm....

SMSing Online.

2005-03-23T03:38:00.000-08:00

I observe that my blog is degenerating into a SMS billboard, but at he cost of another possible nail in the coffin, here goes another one.

"All things desirable in life are either

immoral,

illegal,

fattening,

expensive,

or dating someone else.

or if you're in IIT,
have a higher CGPA criteria!

Some of you will get this some of you wont. For those who do, in the words of a wise man... "Such is Life".

I apologise for the cryptic nature of this post, but ive just finished with my minors (the unfolding of this great tragedy would be done in a later post) and the last thing i want to do right now is write a long post.

Until next time.

"Washington Irving"

minor exams major nuisance.

2005-03-17T11:13:00.000-08:00

Well its minor time again. And i am reminded of an sms i received from a friend in my first year at iit.

"I hate the guy by whom minors were made,
I'd like to kill him with a freakin spade,
PH, MA all full of shit,
Even before i start i quit.
Yaron mat maro itni fight
So jayo its the dead of night."

Amen

poetry in motion

2005-03-12T04:17:00.000-08:00

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.
~Robert Frost

Poetry is a deal of joy and pain and wonder, with a dash of the dictionary.

~Kahlil Gibran

You can't write poetry on the computer.
~Quentin Tarantino

Poetry seems to be the latest passion of a lot of my friends today, and thanks to blogging and the primeval craving for recognition everyone seems to be publishing poems. Now some of them are really good, works that would have made Keats proud had he been able to publish them with his byline, and well some of them are outright painful.

One thing that is absolutely certain is if i were to ever delve into the world of poetry composition i would find clear acceptance(with wild cheering and drumrolls most likely) into the latter group. Why then would you ask would i ever even flirt with the idea of writing poems and more so, even if in a moment of pure and unadulterated insanity i would dare to rhyme moon with bufoon, would i ever exhibit it for public viewing. Perhaps its just my primeval craving....but anyway the result being that i posted a poem reently on one of my friends blogs as a reaction to his post on the art and results of a proxy.( for further elucidation on the post click here.)

It took me all of 6 minutes to come up with this (some would say it was six minutes too long...) But the result was..well....its better you took a look yourself (after all words can only go so far...)

On Proxies.

what is a proxy after all
a five letter recipe for disaster u say,
nay,
a proxy is more than just a word,
it is trust that is given
a duty that must be done.
it is an honour that must be upheld
it is a risk that must be taken,
a name that must be said
without fear, without hesitation

what is a proxy after all,
a life saver
a philosophers stone
the only means of beating an
anarchic system of rules.

when your eyes cannot open
when your mind still slumbers on
and your body refuses to waken
it is all that stand between you and immient destruction

it is the greatest test of character ever ordained.
It teaches you courage,
it teaches you loyalty
It teaches you to trust
and what it means to be trusted.
and then you ask what is a proxy,
nay,
a proxy is not just a five letter word.

by yours truly.

Now i understand that clearly poetry isnt my forte, and just to reinforce the point here's a reaction to this work of "art".

"Rohan, I would repeat to you what was said to me when I first tried my hand at poetry.Prostetnic Vogon whatshisname could write better poetry than you."
Manu Saxena (a.k.a M.MS from DPS)

To make up for the above painful experiance of meandering through my "poem" I leave you with a poem by a friend of mine (alas only if i could come up with something like this...) He is fast turning into one of my favourite poets. There is something about his poems that seem to capture something within, that makes one pause and ponder, it touches a string, somewhere, playing an almost perfect note.

Grief

The brightest shades are melancholic
Van Gogh's yellows and reds
Music touches our very hearts
At its poignant best

The deepest hues are the darkest
Oozing out of void hearts
The best comedians are the saddest
They laugh; we cry

The best songs talk of unrequited love
The best movies end with death
We yearn the most for life
When we draw our last sweet breath

Love retains its strength
When it is unspoiled by intimacy
Passion remains intense
When opportunity comes rarely

by Shalabh Gupta (a.k.a the poet and the critic)

The beginning of my education

2005-03-04T05:31:00.000-08:00

I was once told that the four things that make a man are philosophy, history, psychology and sociology (the original list was of five but i can't seem to remember what the fifth was ...) And me being a student of engineering, which is quite devoid of these essential ingredients of education, in an effort to undo this sin of ignorence, I have, as mentioned before have taken a course called art and tech. (this is by far the weirdest structured sentence i have ever written.). Anyway this course required a trip to the National Gallery of Modern Art, which i duly made yesterday. For all those of you who like me 36 hours ago had no idea as to this great building's location- its this 'biggish' building complete with dome and other legacies of Lutyen, on the huge India gate circle. The ironoc thing is is that I must have crossed this building hundreds of times without realizing what it housed.

Coming back to relevant issue here, there was besides a collection of Indian Art an exhibition of Italian modern art (1950 - 1970) on. Now i have issues with modern abstract art, and i mean really abstract, not something that munch or magritte did but the kind of art that expects me to look at a blank canvas and ooh an aah at the "beauty" or "creativity" of the artist. Now as far as i am concerned a work of art can grab your interest on four accounts - it is beautiful( or aesthetically pleasing) or it is creative or it shocks you or the immense skill of the artist. Now a blank canvas ( there was one at the art gallery, titled "screen", i never thought someone would actually go to this length..) is a scam. Period. It neither shocks nor appleals aesthetically nor is their any skill on display and u seriously can't expect me to believe in its "creativity".

Abstract art of this kind will never rise to the heights of other art movements be it impressionism, cubism etc. The proof of this lies in that you do not and will not ever have the artists or artworks from this genre that will outlast the movement (or fad to be more accurate) comparable to your picassos, manet's , or michaelangelos.

Now if you're still awake and reading this....Thank You!

Anyway coming to more intersting things that happened during this visit, we came across this painting of what appeared to me to be an extremely 'well fed baby'.......it looking as if someone had stretched the painting...enhancing the effect of the protagonist being a ....khate peete ghar ka bachha...if you get what i mean. Anyway it wasnt a particularly 'pretty' picture but it was Swati's comment that made us realize how 'moving' it actually was..." Its gross, its ugly, its grotesque....ughhh...It must be a man!!!!"

On another side note chirag told us why he was particularly glad he wasn't a dog, and trust me u need to have something "special" to come up with a gem like that.
And here's the tariff structure of the gallery.

Children Rs 1
Indian Nationals Rs 10
Foreign Nationals Rs 150!!!

It feels good to be an Indian!

P.S I came to the conclusion that art is totally subjective. We saw a painting and our first reactions were:

me: its a female!
swati: its a man!
chirag: its a capsicum! (he had missed lunch...though he claims it had nothing to do with it ;-))

on Varun Sud'isms' and more....

2005-02-26T11:02:00.000-08:00

There are some people who have the gift of gab, few who have a story for every occasion ["this one time, when i was in edinburgh...."] and fewer still who have a one liner for every moment. There is only one person I know who has all three.

Though his stories may be fascination itself, its the one liners that are his forte. They can make you roll with helpless laughter or cry and wince with absolute embarrassment. But I know no other who can do this as well as he.

here go my personal favourites....

"I think the Nifty has just gone up a couple of hundred points" [after a scintillating fashion show performance by the ladies from NIFT]

"The oppositions arguments were like a bull with two horns, one going one way the second going the other way, with a lot of bull in between." [Opening lines in a inter hostel parliamentary debate, lines though originally said with ref to the great man himself in a debate few weeks earlier in pakistan]

The Screech "Point of Information please!!!!!!!!" [in a voice that can only imitated by him]

"The next college is my favourite for I love Mirindaaaaa" [while introducing miranda house while wearing capries and announcing in front of a 7 thousand strong crowd ]

"The leader of opposition should not present his arguments in such vigour,lest he burst a vein, in vain." [Another opening line in the parliamentary debate]

These are not just a consequence of supreme of wit ( or the lack of it as some may argue...) but a matter of unequaled courage. [try the one on mirinda wearing three-fourths infront of a 7000 crowd, and ull get the idea]

To Varun and the opportunity to witness more such "moments of genius".

The inspiration of this post comes from the parliamentary debates i attended today (the only thing i could do after sorrowfully loosing mine) and was witness to three glorious gems.

longer days..and well longer days

2005-01-23T02:22:00.000-08:00

monday. first class. 8 am. last class. 6 pm. 2 hr break in b/w. no of practicals to be written in that break. 2. im screwed. 10 hr day.hell.

monthly musings

2005-01-20T12:10:00.000-08:00

so i give up...there is no way on earth i can keep this blog updated anything more frequently than two cycles of the moon...so no more deception now, no more false promises - this blog will only be updated once a month. Period. I see these superhuman entities around who keep there blog going, putting up new posts more times in a day than i do in a year.Dammit. Anyway i must now accept the stark reality that i lack the elixer of blog writing, i must seek solace in the fact that even chaps like shakespeare and shaw were also bereft of this talent.

So now that ive got that over my conscience, lets move on. I left my last post hanging precariously with the promise of some details of my last semester, but that now seems aeons away, so does my vacation,besides a whole new sem has started. Not very much different from the last, just that my courses are even more dreary than last time and i still have issues with my eight am 'middle of the night' class.

Life is still a breeze as usual, though i have taken a pretty cool course called art and technology, where one debates on what is art, beauty and such deep stuff which is normally beyond people of my humble origins. Its a nice experience discussing the works of messers carravagio, van gogh et al. As part of this course I have a presentation to give on a piece of music. Now anyone who knows me knows that music is certainly not my forte and i now as much about it as plato knew about the dark side of the moon, or perhaps even less. Anyway, so as i have chosen so i must act. Here's to beethoven, mozart, chopin and the rest whom i must unravel within the next ten days.

Anyway thats all folks, until my next monthly muse,
salut

ps i study at a place called iit, and a friend of mines written a pretty cool poem on life ad times at iit . check it out. http://sgblog.rediffblogs.com/

deja vu...

2004-12-09T10:24:00.000-08:00

so ive been lazy...very lazy. Period. The last time i updated anything on this blog, summer was still in its full glory and the days used to actually dawn bright and sunny...well ive missed a third of the revolution of the earth and its winter now and the mornings are bleak, cold and grey. The fabled delhi fog hasnt actually set in yet, but give it a couple of weeks and chaos should reign supreme.
This is primarily a 'me getting back to blogging' kind of post, my semester ended about a week back and am off for the entire month so should be able to dash of some piece of nonsense or the other. Ive seemingly missed writing quite a lot in these last few months, lots of things seem to have happened without me being able to chronicle them into 'literary history'.

Well to make up for this 'deriliction of duty' here go a couple of miscellaneous notes on nothing of abolutely any consequence.

Good ol' George survived the storm and is back in business. For all those of you who like me were kind of wishing he'd be swept clean out in the election and were 'disappointed' with the result, Michael Moore put up "17 reasons not to slit your wrists"...ull enjoy them... you check them out by clicking here.
Mughal-e-Azam, the great indian movie, was rereleased amidst much hoopla in colour, unfortunately yours truly has neither seen the original one in the shades of grey nor have I much intention of having a look at this coloured version. The only thing im curious about is how good a job has been done in its transformation and if it loses any of its fabled shine due to colouring. But ill be damned if im going to watch 8 hrs of mughal-e-azam just to spot the difference. So ill leave it to some other higher soul to enlighten me on this one
Camera phones, dumb girls and mms, a truly deadly concoction. i hardly need to spell it out.
Both the Indian cricket and hockey teams seem to be getting their butts kicked all around, here's hoping to a change in fortune, and a return to our winning ways(err...for the hockey team it wouldnt technically be a 'return' though...)

ill sign of now, by the way i had quite an interesting semester this time and ill probably write down something like a semester in review post soon, but until then have fun.

ciao

"If"...

2004-08-21T07:36:00.000-07:00

If by Rudyard Kipling is one of my all time favoutite poems...but this "version" of If took me completely by surprise ...

If... advice from George Bush Senior to his son, George W.Bush

If you can milk the 9/11 disaster,
Pretend al-Qaida's funded by Saddam,
Your standing in the polls will improve faster,
For how many will know your claim's a sham?
If you can terrify your entire nation,
Persuade them they're in danger of attack,
You'll win their overwhelming approbation
For most opposing voices will backtrack.

If you can bribe and bully Third-World nations,
To swallow their grave doubts about your aims,
If you purvey your bogus allegations,
And fabricate intelligence for your claims,
If you conceal your actual intentions,
Convince the world you'll set Iraqis free,
Folks will forget, and you should never mention,
Which countries furnished Saddam's weaponry.

If you provoke enough defenders,
To take part in another 'turkey-shoot',
The world will see just why you must defend us
"From evil tyrants and their mindless brutes".
If your smart bombs can trigger mass destruction,
America's economy will soar,
For U.S. firms will corner reconstruction,
And nothing pleases Wall Street like a war

If you establish bases for your forces,
While claiming Muslim terror has increased,
Then you'll control Iraq's immense resources,
And soon you'll dominate the Middle East.
If you can wield the sword of God Almighty,
Until your war on terrorism's won,
And sell that look of messianic piety,
Well then, you'll get to rule the world, my son!

David Bexon (April 2003)

(With apologies to Rudyard Kipling)

five points something...

2004-08-13T10:15:00.000-07:00

in the first two weeks of iit....
1. ive been thrown out of class once...
2. my computer account has been disabled once...(its still non functional..and i have a submission to make on monday...)
3. ive spent a month's money for petrol in half the time.
4. ive realized ive registered for courses that im doomed to flunk.
5. im still looking for a way to make it for my first class at 8am on time and awake...(its usually either but hardly ever both...)

back after the hiatus...

2004-08-10T11:10:00.000-07:00

my college re started after a brilliant two and a half month interlude...late last month i returned to the "real world"...the stark reality has hit me hard...so no longer am i the master of my own time....no longer do my days start at the wrong side of noon...my nights no longer begin at dawn....damn i have a class everyday at the uncivilized hour of 8 in the morning...bleary eyed...inundated with sleep...i stagger into my class...an hour later...still bleary eyed...but considerably refreshed after an hours nap...i stagger out to my next class...after a couple of hours of this...feeling considerably better...i feel im ready for the rest of the day....which chiefly consists of a couple of more classes...lots of senseles strategizing...mindless planning...couple of litres of iced tea(atleast it seems that way..)...some occasional debating...quizzing...football...tennis...or just friends and gallivanting...hell life could be worse(no iced tea or cold coffee!!!)...but im not really complaining( except the part about the early morning class...those are sacrilege...) ...its fun...lots of things to do...lots of places to go....promises to keep...and time for me to go to sleep...iit awaits me...8 Am...sharp...dammit!!!

thinking cap...#1

2004-07-24T00:52:00.000-07:00

"I'm desperately trying to figure out why kamikaze pilots wore helmets." - Anonymous

to my valentine???

2004-07-24T00:46:00.000-07:00

err...i doubt if this is such a great idea...

To My Valentine- a poem by Ogden Nash

More than a catbird hates a cat,
Or a criminal hates a clue,
Or the Axis hates the United States,
That's how much I love you.

I love you more than a duck can swim,
And more than a grapefruit squirts,
I love you more than a gin rummy is a bore,
And more than a toothache hurts.

As a shipwrecked sailor hates the sea,
Or a juggler hates a shove,
As a hostess detests unexpected guests,
That's how much you I love.

I love you more than a wasp can sting,
And more than the subway jerks,
I love you as much as a beggar needs a crutch,
And more than a hangnail irks.

I swear to you by the stars above,
And below, if such there be,
As the High Court loathes perjurious oathes,
That's how you're love by me.

questions and answers...

2004-07-20T08:22:00.000-07:00

"But it was the Great Question! The Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe and Everything," howled Loonquawl. "Yes," said Deep Thought with the air of one who suffers fools gladly, "but what actually is it?"
                               ...from The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy.

"The Godfather is the I Ching. The Godfather is the sum of all wisdom. The Godfather is the answer to any question".

                                ...from the movie You've Got Mail.

of guitars and dinner decisions...

2004-07-17T04:21:00.000-07:00

alright i have these friends who are major guitar afficiandos(spelling?) and one of them bought this extremely expensive guitar..but ive been told by reliable sources that its nowhere even close to what an expensive guitar can cost...but as far as he and i are concerned its expensive enuff...neway so this guitar is a les paul...so named after some singer, tells me the same reliable authority...now for someone like me who has enough trouble even spelling "guitar"...what to say of playing one...this passion in guitars is quite bewildering...the discussions on what "slash"(gnr anybody???) plays or what was led zepplin playing somehow leave me quite unmoved but immensely bored(i can hardly tell an accoustic from an electrical u see)...i guess i need to go read something like "guitar for beginners" or something so that next time this topic comes up my part in the ensuing discussion is more than a bored yawn...
i dont know about anyone else but the toughest decisions that my friends and i have to take is regarding dinner...the cuisine...the place....the price...the distance...each of these aspects results in a good two hour discussion/debate/argument/bloodbath...there ought to be an easier way...but one has to admit there's no better appetizer than a good shouting/slanging/boxing/wrestling match before dinner...Bon appetit!

the end of "cogito11235813"...and a new beginning

2004-07-15T22:53:00.000-07:00

on popular demand...or rather on one sensible comment from a friend of mine...popularly known as "kunzu"...who pointed out that www.cogito11235813.blogspot.com is too complicated an address to remember...so ive now moved to www.nascentnuisance.blogspot.com ...somehow i never thought that cogito11235813 would be that tough to remember...for the mildly curious and the supremely bored...cogito is the latin word for "i think" and the nos 1 1 2 3 5 8 13 are the first seven numbers of the fibonacci series...but i guess kunzu was right...this adddress would be only easy for someone with a doctrate in both latin and mathematics( do such creatures even exist though????)...neway heres to nascent nuisance..and a new beginnning.

prarambh...the genesis

2004-07-15T01:53:00.000-07:00

and i thought this would be easy...i always believed that i could spin out words by the mile without a moment's thought...that nonsense was a speciality of mine...so to find myself staring at this screen for the last ten minutes not knowing how to begin...with each sentence seeming more inane than the last is quite disconcerting...should i begin with complicated cliches and laborious vocabulary...or should a reason for its creation take precedence over everything else (the reason by the way happens to be a really boring day in a two and a half months of blissful vacation)...or must my endeavour be to try to explain "cogito11235813"(ill do that in my next post...must have something to write in it too...)...but ive decided to keep this short.
I am Rohan.