Stop Beating Around The Bush. Please.

A lot of people call me up and I know why a lot of people usually call me up. It would be usually for some help. If it is in my capacity, I will help. But please, stop with the inane meaningless formalities. Before you delve into “Mere computer mein virus hai” or “Would you happen to know…?” you don’t have to say,”Yaad aaya, isliye call kiya. Aur bata, tu kaisa hai?” and all the usual 5 minute horsecrap baloney like that. You don’t really mean it. You know you don’t. So it’s pointless. Get to the point. You have called me to ask me something, please ask. All these formalities are actually embarrassing.

It’s also a waste of time. You waste your time as well as mine. No, can you honestly say that you don’t think about formulating the shortest and quickest way to get your work done before you call for help? You do. When it comes to me, the best way is to get straight into the matter. You tell me, I help you, we both can be happy.

So please, stop beating around the bush. You heard it. Get to the point, people. You have not called me up to ask me about my well being. You have not called me to inquire about my happiness. You did not ring me up to talk about the weather. You have called me to help you or to provide you with some information on something for your need. I would be only happy to help, if indeed I am able to. I won’t be thinking about anything else, really. No grudges, unless you’re an old asshole that I know of. But I’d actually be glad that you thought of me when you got stuck at something. I’d be delighted to think that you feel that I can really be of assistance. But when you start asking me about my well being and my daily life to apparently “break the ice” so that I may help you, you insult my intelligence and yourself. If you really think I can be helpful, stop acting to be so thoughtfully awesome with all the shallow ceremonious niceties. If you think you’re being tactful, you’re only being a jackass.

If you really care about me, you’d have called me up for no reason for a chat (there are only a precious few like those). Yes, those occasions are different. We can chat for a long time. But when you start with the seemingly enthusiastic small talk but comprehensively vapid mechanical drivel when you want a favour, it gets really awkward, to be frank. Because in most cases, you and I both know the reason you have called. You and I both know that all this ritualistic foreplay is hollow and absurd. So you may stop it, for your benefit as well as mine. This is an open request. Just a “Hi dude, I need a little help from you.” would really suffice. If you really think of me as a friend, you don’t need to do any formalities. I’d sincerely and genuinely be happy to be of help (if at all I can be).

Disclaimer: I speak for myself. There are actually some assholes out there who do get very offended when you ask them for help without the customary exchange of pleasantries. I’m not like them. You may note that. Also, this post was not intended to be offensive in any way; just me trying to convey some of my feelings. But if you are offended, please feel free to go fuck yourself. :)

Kgnnuumeerrolgiy

Whhaatt? Diid youu fiinnd tthe tiittlee oof thhis pposst sstrranngge? Oor thhe wayy I’mm wwrittng itt? Nno, thhiss iis noott a neww fforrm oof kool SMS liinngo. Itt’s wayy koolerr. For your stupid convenience, I will write like you normal morons do. Why do you find it so strange? Is it because it looks like someone thought “screw the rules of the English language; I’ll make weird words that makes no sense”? Oh yeah? Well then, FUCK YOU! Because this is how I would write from now on, since writing like this is the only way writing could bring me luckk. All thanks to numerology, I mean kgnnuumeerrolgiy. Screw your sense of spellings and pronunciation.

See, this is how it works: The alphabets that make your name are associated with numbers. Those numbers that are already there might not be very good for your fortunes. What do you do? Enter numerology, shit, kgnnuumeerrolgiy. It can help calculate the numbers that can turn your luck around. How? You add or subtract some alphabets and make your name look like it was written by a kindergarten kid so that you can pronounce it like a spastic retard bring good luck, success and joy to your life.

Don’t believe me? Just look at all the über successful stars of Bollywood. Just adding or subtracting some alphabets in their names can change their lives. It brought unimaginable success and wealth, not only to the “actors”, but also to the genius numerologists—who became so much in demand for adding or removing alphabets and deliberately misspell names for a person to entirely change his or her life for good—who can now earn enough money by one little consultation to buy the top end iMac. Hey, they are consultants of life’s fortunes. They really ought to be paid in gold.

Just look at the success stories, you ignorant people. Sunil Shetty became so much more dynamic ever since he became Suniel Shetty. Tusshar Kapoor (that dashing young talent) bagged roles in so many super hit films. Also worth mentioning are the success stories of Eesha Koppikhar, Celina Jaitl y, Emraan Hashmi, and so many more Bollywood elite.

Thanks to numerology, I don’t even have to be concerned of people’s opinions about my acting.

It definitely helped Sonu Niigaam with his acting career. And Aanuu Mallik, bitches! That multi-talented musical composer has only raised the bar for imbeciles like A.R. Rahman after he got his name changed. Other composers are sooo gonna plagiarize be inspired by Aanuu Mallik’s hit compositions.

Yo, biatches! Kgnnuumeerrolgiy is like teh shit! I'm like totally rocking the charts thanks to my new name.

Speaking of Bollywood elite, Ajay Devgan, oops, Devgn has jumped into the kgnnuumeerrolgiy bandwagon and slashed off an A from his surname. When you look at all the string of super hit movies that the master actor has starred in—Golmaal, Golmaal Returns, Cash, Sunday, Ram Gopal Verma Ki Aag (OH MY FUCKING GOD!), All The Best—you actually start to wonder why he really needed to visit a kgnnuumeerrolgisst. The guy was going strong in the first place. But I’m sure knocking an A off his surname so that y’all people can pronounce it like you’ve got Parkinson’s disease can only reach him to new heights of stardom. Amitabh Bachchan and Aamir Khan, you stupid nincompoops, watch and learn how to be successful.

And when it comes to super hit movies, just see the records. Heyy Babyy, Krazzy 4, Kya Kool Hai Hum, Singh Is Kinng, Karzzzzzz (Holy SHIT! What an awesome movie) Shortkut, Do Knot Disturb—all wonderful entertainers, all awesome movies, all super hits, all classy cinema. All thanks to kgnnuumeerrolgiy.

So you see, the only superstition here is that you people don’t believe in the power of misspellings. Don’t you ever fucking think that kgnnuumeerrolgiy is raping the laws of the English language in the ass! I, for one, am contemplating on changing my name to Sshreiyyesshh Vvijayn. I’m going through a bad phase right now, but changing my name really should change my luck. Thank GOD I only write my name in English alphabets and not in Hindi, Malayalam or Cyrillic, because that would have really screwed me up.

PS: Kgnnuumeerrolgiy has other benefits too. It can really save your ass from embarrassment when you don’t know how to spell big words the usual way.

Star gazing and some other things

*Not my image. Found this on Google.

Back to blogging after a long time again. So I don't need to do the ritual explanation of how big a lazy bum I am again now, do I? Yeah, I don't. So another post now. WARNING: The following content could come across as cheesy and pathetic. There will also be unrestrained digression. Reader discretion is advised.

Before I start the blather, a little babble about the background: My boss told me to go to a company in Ahmednagar on Sunday, June 21, as the company had failed to send too many drawings according to schedule and had not given any replies to reminders. So furious, the boss told me to go and "fire them" and to stay there till they've released all drawings. I was livid as well. No, not least because of delayed drawings. The boss was telling me to go on a Sunday when I had so many plans, first which involved my best pals (or animals) Somu and Jimbo staying over at my new home (that's another story), then I had plans to go watch Wolverine, go out and have fun. Sunday is the only holiday I get. And snatching away that holiday is preposterous. A bloody crime! GRRR!

But I agreed to go (if I didn't, the boss would've made an ugly face and regurgitated crap about my excuse forever any time he wanted). The 5 hour journey in the MSRTC shake-machine didn't do much to lift the mood either. 21st June was a Sunday which coincidentally was also the summer solstice–the longest day of the year. Nice way it was to spend the longest day of the year discussing drawing revisions with the company engineers. But I did my job, the company people were friendly and food was satisfying (food is damn important). Didn't get to explore Ahmednagar though (this is the suckiest part of official visits, you don't get to enjoy).

So the inspiration for the drivel here begins now on my return journey. It was more comfortable than the other bus, but the presence of mosquitoes more than made up for the discomfort. There I was sitting in the bus reading The White Tiger by Aravind Adiga (which till now, has been a good read; I haven't finished it yet), munching Piknik (damn good they are, I love this snack), it was around 7:30 pm and they turned off the lights. WTF! The longest day it might have been, but reading was impossible in the light of dusk. I was in an irate mood. So I was just staring out through the bus window, and there I saw it: two bright specks in the almost-dark blue horizon, blurry, but bright enough even for my myopic eyes.

So I put on my glasses and there they were, two really bright stars. And then there was another. *ting!* And another star materialized. *ting!* Some more after a while. *ting!* *ting!* *ting!* Soon enough, the sky was getting more dark and these whole clusters of stars were coming into focus on the moonless, cloudless sky. And then, the entire sky was a canopy littered with bright dots, dense clusters of stars. It was something really, a sight to behold, oddly mesmerizing.

The road was completely dark. There were no lights obstructing the view of the sky, except for the lights from the far spaced villages, the odd Dhabas or oncoming vehicles. There were no streetlights, and for the first time, I was glad that there weren't, and I hope it remains that way; people (people like me at least) should not be derived of the chance for viewing the amazing starry sky like that. Also, I was lucky, it was raining both in Ahmednagar and Mumbai and yet, the sky was cloudless.

I just sat staring at the stars, I don't know for how long. It was indeed enticing. I don't remember seeing such a view (well, maybe in the Nehru Planetarium in Worli I did, but that doesn’t count). It can't happen where I stay in Navi Mumbai because of all the lights of the city that only allow seeing the brightest of the stars. The night sky in my native place in Kerala would be suited for star gazing, but there, you're not allowed to go out at nights, and besides, most of the time I was there, it would've been raining. But there in the bus (I don't know where exactly), if I was not mistaken, I was seeing the Milky Way. I wished that the bus was made of glass so I could've had a 180° view of the sky.

I must have looked stupid staring up to the left out the window. For 2 hours or more probably, I was just gazing up at the stars like a child completely entranced by the sight of something that seemed extraordinary. It got me thinking. It's no wonder that the old time blokes came up with weird theories about the stars and how they could affect the lives of puny people on earth. I was playing joining the dots with the stars and I could see a beach recliner, a wind-mill, a horse, a television, a hot chick with one hand on her hip and one hand waving, and then some other things. The old people back then must have seen some other stuff and decided “Let's call this one a crab, this one a lion, that one a dude with water” and so on. Must have been more convenient, eh? C'mon, who's gonna take an astrologer seriously if they were to say "The person born on the cusp of the hot chick and the beach recliner will..." But I think I can spare those men. Who could blame them? The sight of the stars, like I said, can be very enchanting and can make you feel spellbound. And at those old times, they could not have known that the dots up there were giant balls releasing light and heat by the thermonuclear fusion of hydrogen into helium millions of light years away, could they?

Ah, drifted away again. I was snapped out of my musings by an explosion of light–the bus had entered Pune city and there was suddenly a haze of orange from the street lights. And then I realized my neck was hurting from staring up to my left through the window. By the time it was dark again, the sky was obscured by clouds, and the stars were no longer visible. I didn't know when I fell asleep, but I woke up when the bus had reached and stopped at Panvel and it was 1:00 am. Home was close, and I did not doze off again. Then, I looked out the window and I saw the Navi Mumbai sky with clouds streaked by an orange-yellow. It was neither looking like sunrise nor sunset. The view that I once thought was resplendent no longer seemed very captivating anymore. The clouds in the horizon polluted by city lights seemed oddly grotesque.

But I have decided that sometime later, or hopefully maybe sooner, when I'll have a really good camera, a fast mobile net connection and a car of my own, I'll go on a drive on the same roads on a summer night and gaze at the stars again, for hours maybe. Maybe I'd to take a portable folding bed along too, so I can sleep in the middle of nowhere under the dome of the starry sky. I'd love to do that.

Until the next time I blog, see you (the few ones who're reading this anyway).

PS: I've been told to go to Noida on 26th. I've heard that it is one big polluted city. So expectedly, won’t be seeing the serene sky there.

Stupid hypocrites

Hmmm… It’s been a long time since I’ve blogged. I’m not passionate about blogging. I guess I mentioned that earlier when I blogged. Anyway, engineering studies are over. So is my job hunt. Got a job as trainee electrical engineer in a firm last month (I’m not sure I’m really enjoying my job though).

Anyway, I’m into twittering these days (follow sreeyesh on twitter if you want to listen to my rants and other nonsense). I really like the concept of microblogging. Unlike a blog, there’s not much fuss to jot down things in less than 140 characters. You get the message delivered, and that’s what counts. But the downside is that sometimes, the 140 character restriction can be irritating when you want to really elaborate your thoughts. This is where a blog is essential. But since I’m not much of a brainy guy, I don’t have many thoughts to elaborate; and then I’m lazy too, because of which I don’t take any efforts to “elaborate my tiny thoughts”. So that’s that.

But anyway, today, I had some thoughts, and I decided to slog on my blog. I was reading the Times of India, and there was this article about a group of people protesting the nude depiction of the Hindu god Shiva on canvas by an artist. This is one of those ‘what-the-fuck’ news. I mean really, I don’t understand why these people are really offended. Shiva was drawn nude by an artist (who, coincidentally, and maybe fortunately is a Hindu named Nitai Das), and that apparently didn’t strike a chord with the Hindu Janajagruti Samiti.

The Hindu Janajagruti Samiti (literal translation: Hindu Mass-awakening Association) needs to wake up and look at a bit of reality themselves. Millions of people worship the lingam, that is, the phallic symbol of Lord Shiva every day. For crying out loud, they ask for blessings from a damn penis. The article quotes sources who say that there are “several other manifestations of Shiva that are traditionally shown in the nude”. So are we to understand that according to the Janajagruti Samiti, it is perfectly fine to make phalluses out of rock and concrete and keep it inside a temple to worship, but when the same genitalia in question, belonging to the same deity, is drawn on canvas by an artist who does not happen to be from the year 2 BC, it suddenly should be considered indecent and vulgar? What kind of logic is that?

If sex or the depiction of sex organs is such a touchy subject for these people, why aren’t they doing anything about the blatant sexual depictions made in rock sculptures by the ancestors of this land at places like Khajuraho? I mean if a penis in a painting is so offensive, then the portrayal of the penis actually being put into its best use (and I don’t mean urination), along with a generous accompaniment of large breasts and buttocks on sculptures just cannot be tolerated (and these are in 3d). Why not demolish them?

I just hate hypocrisy. And moral police are of the worst kinds of hypocrites. And even worse is their extreme intolerance and touchiness. You have your morals, be fine with it. You have some beliefs, believe them. You might find it offensive or scandalous when some things are not coinciding with your beliefs or traditions. How about showing a little tolerance and doing some calm reflecting? Just don’t shove your holier-than-thou morality down others’ throats, as there are people who are actually very offended and disgusted by you people and your antics. When you’re forcing people to follow you, it just doesn’t fucking work.

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Oh, I almost forgot: Happy New Year!

I really HATE wearing formal clothes.

Your name on the moon.

Hehehe... I found this out surfing through the net...

So maybe you may not be able to take a flight to outer space in your lifetime, and setting your foot on the moon will be out of the question all together. So what? How about getting your name on the moon? NASA is giving everyone an opportunity to go to the moon, at least all your names. NASA will send your name to the moon as an 'appreciation of your support', as they're saying on the website. The payload is not going to increase with names anyway. They'll be putting the names on a chip and sending it to the moon onboard the Lunar Reconnaissance Orbiter, NASA's next big moon mission.

So what are you waiting for? Head over to this site and register your name. Let it go places, let it go to the moon!

Oh and by the way, you can gather "more support" for the mission by registering the names of your friends and loved ones.

If you want to know more, read on here. No, this is not a joke. Read NASA's press release.

Bachelorhood after four years

Hmmm… Its been a long time since I made a post here. It was laziness of course, there were many occasions when I felt I could’ve made a good blog post, but I procrastinated and then I never got down to do the job. Seems like blogging isn’t exactly something I’m passionate about. But I think I can make a rant and a few cribs now.

5th of June 2008, it was the day that I gave the last exam in by Bachelor of Electrical Engineering course. Was I happy? Maybe. Was I sad? Yeah. But was it because of the nostalgia and the thought of saying goodbye to the institution where I studied for four years? Definitely not. The four years were definitely not the typical college years that I had expected. It wasn’t exactly fun. And the fact that we didn’t have any good teachers in the college only added to the agony. It was exactly due to these reasons that I was not exactly happy about the end of my college life.

The memories that I could take back with me would be the few and far between events which were not really connected to the college. I’m sure most of the people who study in college would have really looked forward to a trip somewhere with the class. No such event materialized in my four years. Plans were made only to be cancelled. I’m just about glad that the four of us who were teamed together to make the final year project agreed and went to Goa for a few days. We went during the college festival, and I have no regrets of missing the event (not surprisingly, the festival turned out to be a huge damp squib). Thankfully, the Goa trip would be one thing that happened towards the end of the four years that I would not immediately forget.

What did I learn in college? Nothing much except perhaps what many engineering students would actually have already learnt: learn everything yourself. The text book is your best friend (sometimes because the text books helps the brighter ones who could later help you). Your other best friend is the Xerox machine, without which studying engineering would be impossible. Teachers are just a formality (maybe except the odd ones who actually knew what they were teaching). We didn’t have any teachers for some subjects. Others were horrible. The ones who could actually teach and who actually were passionate about teaching left when I joined the college. Seniors told me about those legendary people who commanded respect from students. Alas, I wasn’t fortunate to meet them. The only one good professor who was remained left the college when I was in the 3rd year.

The project is another thing that I have close to my heart. Four guys who were totally different from each other were teamed up. The situations leading to the formation of the group would make an interesting story, but I don’t feel it’s a topic to be blogged. Still, I really couldn't have asked for better guys on the team. At least our thought frequencies were in phase. At least something good happened, and these guys are now good friends of mine We made a project on renewable energy (using a wind generator). I’m really proud of it, because we made it on our own. While some people did their project in some company, most guys in the class didn’t make their project at all. It was outsourced to be done by someone else (like ghost writing). Just give money to the project-maker, and present your stuff in the end. I’m sure most of the engineering students reading this would know what I’m talking about. But we had absolutely no help for our project. We knew the risks involved, we knew not many would be able to help us, but we got through in the end (a special thanks to our guide who appreciated our work and supported us).

Other than that, I really don’t know how the four years went past. It seems it was just yesterday that the Principal of the college was chomping on cucumber when my friend and I went to meet him to inquire about the admission procedure. It sure was quick it seems. But there was no emotional attachment to the college. It wasn’t like leaving school where I felt I was leaving a part of my life behind.

Ah well, life goes on. Now I have to think of what to do next.