SUPER PERCEPTION

HYSTERIA

2009-09-06T04:50:00.002+05:30

Nine months, and finally a new post.
Even better, hopefully, the last.

Why the post:

Terence gets pissed too often, too soon. Maybe that’s something he’s done, to others. And one suspects that he doesn’t care. Or does he? And this is a problem, probably. He’s stopped caring. About people who were close to him or whom he was close to. The sudden need to close down is strange as well.

And just a quick word, this post may come across as a self-obsessed story, but the ventilator was required. Go ahead, read if you know Terence. And if you don’t know him, then, just test your intelligence.

The post:

There are times when feelings are a wretch. And the person, wretched.

Anyway. It’s been a long time. And a little flashback here. There were times when Terence would be the one who’d visit IIMC to spend some time with his friends. And some further flashback here, the time when everyone would take refuge under the glorious silhouette of a lucky DSE tree which made every hour, most certainly, precious.

However, we know, time changes everything. And keeping that tradition in mind, everything seems like folklore now.

About a fortnight ago, Patrick called Terence and gave the latter a piece of his mind. Nevermind the reason why, it was uncalled for. What’s sad is the fact that Terence thought Patrick knew better. Sure, Terence might have taken it far but that was only because he was probably coming close to the glorious days when Vincent and Terence would collectively make up stories about Patrick for some harmless fun. But then again, life’s probably become a little too serious. But it was Terence at fault, as usual, like many feel. So, the apology followed as well.

And sometimes, being rude is being comfortable. Absolutely rude and insensitive. Few weeks ago, Baharul spoke to Terence about a certain female the former begun to like, Terence, on the other hand, mocked him off and didn’t care. Not only did Terence act like an insensitive swine, he made no effort to give an excuse why. The indifference probably hurt Baharul, but he gave away nothing.

Vincent is a person, Terence is terribly fond of. And now, they’re terrible when it comes to keeping in touch. From every weekend sessions to now, when even a phone call happens twice a month. Sometimes, telepathy stands a better chance. Such is life.

And while we’re being absolutely honest here and mentioning names that have been a part of ‘Super Perception’, it’s quite imperative to mention few names that have always been held up high. Amanda, Monica, Nancy and Rihanna (alphabetical order, of course).

There’s something hysterical about Amanda. And candidly, Terence thought she was quite an interesting person. Nancy has been someone Terence has always been afraid of, because she’s extremely well-read. Rihanna always brought the word, mental, to Terence’s mind. But she’s a bright one. Monica, she was close once upon a time ago, but her words still flash around some corner in Terence’s head. And the words still cause wretchedness.

You may begin to wonder why you’re reading Terence’s crap. Well, if it irritated you then why would you still be reading, and if you’ve been following ‘Super Perception’ then you’d come across another wonder. You’d probably wonder why Patrick, Baharul and Vincent have been talked about in accordance to something recent and the other four as an overall perception.

Go figure.

For fuck’s sake, Vertigo suffocates and Perception agitates.

OF ONE ROSY DAY

2008-12-27T02:51:00.003+05:30

‘The love that lasts the longest is the love that is never returned.’
- William Somerset Maugham.

Once upon a time, there was a young man who was in love with a woman. So far, so good. Also, clean. The woman was everything he ever aspired for. Even though, initially, he chose to maintain a distance; he knew a lot about her invisible veil and a smile that hid her inner-most anxieties, this made him go weak, week after week.

Meet Baharul Islam, the man who lived. He lived in our lake of thoughts which bridged him from a ‘Flower-boy’ to ‘Lover-boy’. And how he wished to become a ‘Play-boy’, which was (is) Patrick’s luxury. But that’s another story, another post.

Now, they had a history. Not Baharul and Patrick, but Baharul and Rihanna. So, like stated, they shared a history which was complex and complicated. They were never together but for him, the meaning of togetherness simply implied stealing a glance. That completed his day. There have also been occasions when Amanda or Samantha would try to cover Rihanna from our lead-man. But that never stopped him. From sending mails or text messages, nothing stopped him. That was the confidence he carried, until the day when he carried a ‘Flower Bouquet’. And, this is where it all comes in to effect.

The morning seemed all right. Nothing spectacular, nothing speculative. Anticipating a pivotal lecture, all the people in the classroom were submerged in a break. Getting in to specifics, Terence was just observing and Patrick was showing off his maroon sweat-pants. Vincent and Monica were discussing the adverse affects of feminism, while Amanda and Miranda were tying ‘Friendship bands’ on each other’s wrists. Nancy was on the phone. She, sometimes, would place her phone inside her rear pocket and sit on the table. And suddenly, Baharul was seen with his very close friend, Hitesh Iplani, holding a bouquet of flowers. And yes, it looked as though Baharul had presented the flowers to Hitesh.

To cut everyone some slack, the huge bouquet was for Rihanna from Baharul. Some thought he was asking her out, some thought he was insane, some believed he was a gardener. And like they say, truth is a strange mechanism. Baharul, in fact, had got the flowers for the purpose of asking for forgiveness for some shit he had committed earlier.

Nancy thought it was cute, especially the cards with every single flower in the bouquet; Amanda made fun and also displayed it to some people outside the batch; Monica thought it was mark of a new era and Miranda was just in love with her ‘Friendship band’.

Furthermore, to Baharul’s justification, he could have got her one effing flower but he thought Rihanna would throw the single flower back at him, in rage, which would hurt him. Therefore, he brought the entire bouquet, he was sure she wouldn’t be able to lift the heavy bouquet.

Now that the incident has outgrown for over four odd years, it would be safe to say that the emotion was right but not the expression. The bouquet would be a collective consciousness of all the people present there but in absolute totality; it will remain an occasion when flowers spoke to him more than written words.

Let’s simply remember Mark Twain in his saying, ‘Forgiveness is the fragrance the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it.’

SIMPLY GANG LUST

2008-09-23T14:12:00.001+05:30

“Lust's passion will be served; it demands, it militates, it tyrannizes.”
- Marquis De Sade.

Lust is an important element in life, especially in college. Patrick, Vincent and Terence were no different. While two of them attached a committed tag before themselves, it would be best to be honest and narrate a tale about a lust story involving the three for someone who set their tongues permanently wet.

If there ever came a time when one could have an option of having many options, it would get them thinking. Really. Patrick could totally talk to her or could forcibly forget about her. At times, in anger, Terence might have displayed his wrath on her but she knew what she meant to him. Being with Vincent might not be the best thing in the world but he, probably, was her world. All things said and done, she had been through the trio’s highs and lows. She supported, listened and best of all, massaged their ever inflating ego.

Terence often wondered and trust Zeus, he wonders more than Alice. Anyway, let’s not divert from this blazing trio-logue. Like stated, he wondered a lot and in that process, he pretty much has her in his thought cycle and she tops his priority list, well almost. Holy cow, we’d run out of adjectives now.

A week ago, Patrick came home to her and he saw her from a thirstful distance. He slowly held her by her neck and looked at her as she totally dripped and soaked in water. Patrick took all the time in the world and placed her on his favourite table. Thereafter, Vincent brought himself closer and smelt her sweet fragrance. What followed was a pleasure that only a few understand, comprehend and also apprehend. Okay, let’s not get there. Let’s just keep the best things in life within our microscopic intensity.

On the whole, she refreshed the three and also tired them. You probably know how the contradiction works. Given a choice, they would have her anywhere- On a hammock, in a car, in a park, in an elevator and best of all, on a pool table. The thought makes Patrick, Vincent and Terence lust for more, even though they can feel her within themselves this very instant.

The fact remains. The three love their beer way too much.

SUPER SENIORS

2008-08-14T16:01:00.003+05:30

“He may look like an idiot and talk like an idiot but don’t let that fool you. He really is an idiot.”
- Groucho Marx.

When you are a final year college student, the winds move in your direction and the roads lead to your destination. However, don’t take it literally. Of course, why would you- you are not illiterate. Else you wouldn’t have been a final year student. So, like I said, a final year student delivers a feeling of a weird charm within the boundaries of the space you referred as college; a boundary you set, out of which you never wanted to get out of.

Of course, that zone belongs to you and when someone tries to invade that space, you fight for your right. Your right to shout for freedom, your right to scream for independence and your right to yell for your ‘stuff’.

Once upon a time ago, there was a prince who rescued a princess from a monster and they lived happily ever after. Well, unfortunately for you, the post doesn’t stop here. So, bear the boredom.
Patrick deleted his ‘Orkut’ account because he claimed it was eating up his time and energy. He felt he was addicted to the damn non-narcotic thing. But insiders know better or rather, the insiders think otherwise. Now, one would give two or maybe three hoots if he deleted his account but the main-frame (not the fucking G.I.Joe) was that he was the owner of the college group on ‘Orkut’.

So how did that create a problem? Well, it did. Apparently, some guy took up the ownership since it was lying vacant. Since this weblog isn’t meant for mud slinging, let’s just call him Mr. Blessing. Now, he edited details and added a Shah Rukh Khan group as a related community. If that didn’t flip our balls in fury, his further actions did. This guy, who was our junior, tried teaching us the finer ways of posting comments and laid out new rules for the group. He added and deleted group moderators at his own will. He engaged in cocky comments and tried to back answer in way that was as cheesy as Baharul waxing his nasal hair.

And then one day, some seniors decided to act like seniors. The people involved were Baharul, Hitesh, Monica, Kotoky, Patrick, Samantha, Subhojit, Terence (In alphabetical order). Vincent was absent because he was vacationing in a surreal place called ‘Fuck you I don’t want controversy but I’m with you emotionally’.

So the seniors collected themselves and marched on towards the place where the junior classes took place. It was unreal. It was like a scene from ‘The Iliad’ where the Greeks stormed into the Trojan territory. Only that; there were no Trojans but just one ugly Paris who wore two things- an idiotic look and a boomerang smile.

So, we surrounded him like the surround sound out of a high definition digital Dolby home theatre system. You get the point, that’s what matters. We took him to the BBC (Basketball Court) and Jesus, what fucking good waste of time. Initially, no one made sense because all of us were yelling. Then we realized we were sounding like the people in the parliament.

Slowly, each one gathered momentum and blasted him. We felt the force within. Here is an excerpt from what each one said-

Monica – How dare you teach us how to speak!
Samantha – I will call you an ass. Take it literally.
Hitesh – What’s your fucking point!
Terence – Did you lose a bet or do you always dress up like this.
Kotoky – Kela saala (Banana brother-in-law), how dare you!
Patrick – Respect your seniors.
Baharul – Dekh bhai, aise nahi karte na (Look brother, this is not done no).

So, he wept a bit. Took out his red handkerchief and soaked his face. He didn’t sound a quarter of what he projected himself to be. He apologized and Monica wondered if he was a retard so she had a one on one with him where he came out even more confused and probably more mental. As we finished with our BBC episode, we realized we were pretty much united. So what if there were only about 5 or 6 people out of a class of about 40. If size did count then 300 Spartans would have never defeated a million Persians.

Thereafter, he learnt a lesson and so did we. The lesson he learnt closed him entirely and the lesson we learnt got us closer.

Now, with time, we have no ill feeling for him and we wish him the best in everything he does, except Advertising. That’s for Patrick and Terence exclusively. However we can only hope that Mr. Blessing takes the positive out of this fiasco where he was a small pebble wanting to be a little boulder. And yes, ‘Boulder’ is not a spelling mistake.

THE PATCH

2008-07-27T12:55:00.005+05:30

Some people lie everyday.

EDITOR -
We read your manuscript with great interest but regret that our schedule is complete.

DENTIST -
This is not going to hurt at all.

FRIEND -
You know I would not tell anyone.

SECRETARY -
The manager can’t see you. He is very busy.

LAWYER -
Would I be here if I were not convinced of my client’s innocence.

WIFE -
I’ll be ready in a minute.

(Courtesy- RD).

And therefore, like normal people, all characters in ‘Super Perception’ lie, and when they do, they give the word ‘Lie’ a whole new definition, dissertation and dimension.
There have been times when one could hear Baharul, an ardent Salman Khan fan, say, “Salman is an icon”. To which Patrick replied, “I wish. Then I could right-click on him and hit delete”. Times have also witnessed the numerous times when Vincent tried to impress many random women through a conversation involving literature. Maybe his boobs for books scheme was too far fetched. Tales involving Vincent will only open up his liaisons with school girls, so we should put an end on his explicit details.

However, in the simplest of simplicity and the noblest of nobility; there was a time; a time for supersonic heroics, a time for noble acts, a time for melodramatic background music. We could also define this time when a good deed was rewarded through good weed in good speed. Anyway, like stated, there was a time. A time when it was impossible to tell which boy was undergoing chemotherapy. Nearly all the boys were bald.

Hitesh, Kotoky, Patrick and Terence shaved their heads so that a sick friend wouldn’t feel out of place. Baharul shaved his head for a romantic reason but claimed it was for his sick friend. Ved also followed, like usual (Nothing new).

Vincent was the one who was sick. Okay, we know he might be sick in the usual sense but this time, he was medically unwell. Doctors removed a semi-malignated tumor from the left side of his brain. And if you thought brains were pink or grey, think again. According to the medical report, Vincent’s brain was yellow in colour. Meanwhile, one could suspect Vincent having a tumor in that region since there were several things on his mind; it was just funny how the things he had in mind turned heavy which created the lymphoma of the metatarsal in neuro-biogomatics (I don’t have a fucking idea what created what where, I just felt like using the words). By the way, Vincent’s brain was reportedly yellow in the report because the surgeon was using a yellow ray beam so he got confused.

Anyway, a month after the tumor removal, Vincent started chemotherapy to treat the lymphoma. He decided to shave off his head before the hair-fall. That’s when he went silent and withdrawn from the world. Patrick and Terence couldn’t see Vincent like this; therefore they raised a petition to shave off their heads to support Vincent. It was good for Patrick as he was already undergoing a bald patch from the right side.

Between all incidenst, one cold night, Baharul decided to give Vincent some company. Now, Baharul cannot sleep without counting sheep. You know the theory. So, Baharul was at it and quite loud, like usual. That’s when Vincent politely in a dusky voice asked him to STFU. Then, Baharul with full emotion for Vincent decided to count sheep on paper. Next morning, Patrick and Terence entered the hospital room and saw Baharul writing and counting sheep on paper.

Let's keep that incident aside. Meanwhile, Patrick and Terence roped in the remaining boys and decided to stand by their ailing and wailing friend. They asked the women too but they furiously declined. The next few months saw Vincent live on cabbage leaves, carrot tops and apple skins with olive oil.

And with everyday that we visited Vincent, there was a spark in his eyes- a spark which indicated a huge sense of belonging and brotherly love, which just didn’t come out because it felt uneasy. And it did actually happen, and at situations like these, you are at a loss for words because that is a time when telepathic vibes travel faster than verbal words.

To all that we ever shared and will share, to the words which never came out and to all those times when we stuck around somewhere with no apparent reason or apparel; it’s been good and it’s been us.

DEATH BECOMES THEM

2008-06-28T13:55:00.001+05:30

They say you can’t have it all in life. Maybe we can. Imagine a scenario when we cease to be, yet we leave an impression which would make no one forget us. No, I don’t mean suicide bombings or any similar activity. And again, FYI, I don’t even mean loud farts in our deathbeds. It’s like this. We should put a thought into our epitaphs and get words chiseled in stone for ages.

Now, assumptively thinking, here’s what our epitaphs would read in accordance to one’s personality and characteristics. And yes, I know many of us would be cremated instead of being buried but then, who cares when one’s finished.

‘I told you I was sick. I thought you understood my missed call. Phone calls and text messages are expensive.’
- Abhishek Mukherjee.

‘The undiscovered country, from whose bourn; no traveller returns.’
- Amanda.

‘Here lies the body of Anurag Kotoky, done to death by a banana. It wasn’t the fruit that laid him low, but the skin of the thing that made him go. Oye Kela.’
- Anurag Kotoky.

‘A gentleman and a gentle man, ultimately remained gentle. His last words- Uffo.’
- Baharul Islam.

‘Is death the final sleep or the final awakening? What’s my point? What’s my point? Oh fuck, I asked the question twice. Only twice.’
- Hitesh Iplani.

‘She did it the hard way.’
- Miranda.

‘At least I died a feminist way defending women.’
- Monica.

‘We don’t know life; how can we know death?’
- Nancy.

‘I swam the seven oceans, I was a fucking swim champ but the jelly-fish thought otherwise, though it felt like a blowjob.’
- Patrick.

‘Hee hee-haw. Hee hee. I’m still giggling.’
- Rihanna.

‘Gone, but not forgiven.’
- Terence.

‘In my entire life, I dressed as though Stevie Wonder was my personal designer.’
- Ved Prakash.

‘So we must part, my body (my bazooka), you and I; who have spent so many pleasant years together. It’s sorry to lose your company, who clove to me so close.’
- Vincent.

Disclaimer-
Some of the words have been drafted from Hamlet and RD. Anyway, no offence to anyone. If offended, then great, thank you.

ELEVATION

2008-05-17T02:27:00.003+05:30

What is more significant? Getting everything you ever wanted or getting everything you ever needed.

Nine months ago (non-maternity related), Vincent was flying back home after attending a wedding somewhere. Suddenly, he asks the flight steward for some beer. Now, they were 20,000 feet above sea level and the steward assumed he was already high. So, the steward comes back and tells Vincent that there's nothing to drink.

Pissed and embarrassed, Vincent decides to take matters into his own dirty lousy hands and goes to the store area, he finds a beer can and then snaps back to the steward-
"This is how you treat your passengers! I admit I'm travelling on a physically disabled discounted ticket (like always) but I'm still a passenger. This is not hospitality at all. You think 'popcorn' is something that grows in a field and makes music."

Then, he opens the door mid-air and throws the crate of beer out of the plane. The story above has no meaning. It's like giving a "tweetment" to a sick bird.

Anyway, it was also the day when Terence beat Patrick over a game of Tekken. Sadly, Terence felt a tight cramp in his right leg which did not feel right at all. After intense hours of continous gaming, he felt a thirst for some beer. So, Patrick volunteered to go out and get some. Two hours went by and he still didn't return. Terence wondered if Patrick had lost his way since he was complaining of a loose stomach and that he only took refuge in places with paper (he did not like using water- please visualize).

Thats when Terence decided that he had to stand up for what he believed in and he, at that point of time, believed in chilled beer. Terence got up, ignoring his cramp. As he stepped out, he saw Patrick lying flat on the street (with a dazzling smile amongst many a broken tooth). It looked as though something hit him on the head but thank goodness, he was wearing a helmet which said "Empty".

By the way, remember the crate of beer that Vincent threw from the aircraft.

Well, it hit Patrick.

It's a small world :-)

PS- This is an old post. Just re-shuffled it because the slot for the month of 'May' was lying vacant.

CRANK THAT LIKE THIS

2008-04-08T21:49:00.009+05:30

When people say "It's always in the last place you look".
Of course it is. Why the fuck would you keep looking after you've found it? Do people do this? Who and where are they?

When people, ‘point at their wrist while asking for the time’.
I know where my watch is, jackass, where the fuck is yours? Do I point at my crotch when I ask where the bathroom is?

- Somewhere.

The two points above bear little resemblance to the post below. It was just to get your attention. And while you are here, make an effort to read this and post a comment. We all have our pre-conceived notions and we suffer from it. College was a burning bag of pre-conceived notions and ideas.

These were the thoughts pendulum’ing in young minds a week before joining college.

ANURAG KOTOKY-
A banana is also called Kela so why is it derogatory. I’m sure I’ll find the answers in college. I’ll not hesitate to make an ass out of myself to get well acquainted. I could get some decent fucks too but there wouldn’t be any blind girl in my class. But let my thought BEHOLD, there will be many young men curious about literature and the sexual texts. Maybe I could pluck a leaf there. Baal kela.

BAHARUL ISLAM-
When I join college, I will be ahead of the game. I hope they like Bollywood because I have a nice BOLLYWOOD shirt. I will also fall in love at first sight; maybe I will blindfold myself and open them when I smell a great ladies’ perfume. How romantic. I will get her flowers from the garden of love and we will sing songs. I will also be very loud because love is never silent and it’s voice is heard all over. Oho, this is getting ridhiculous.

HITESH IPLANI-
Thank God, I just waxed my chest yesterday else the girls would think I’m wearing a monkey suit. Anyway, I will have TWICE the fun and I will have twice as many friends. I am fair, slim and tender. I will be a hit. Asking women about heir G-Spots directly would be rude so I will simply ask them, ‘What’s your point?’.

PATRICK-
I am the fucking swim champ, at the national level. I will screw women under water and also become the captain of the college swim team. But hey, wait a minute, my fucking college doesn’t have a swim team. Hey, wait another minute; it doesn’t even have a pool. Why am I getting excited for nothing? Fuck, I will just talk about Maiden near the maidens. I could have gone to Bombay but I guess I’ll bomb every bay in the university. Holy cow, wow.

TERENCE-
Yawn.

VED PRAKASH-
The baybes shall have me. I will play a subtle role and work hard so that all women ask for my notes and while doing so, they could view the red roses between the pages. Maybe then, I could get between the sheets with them. I hope no one else comes up with the red rose idea. I wanted to become a physical physician like my name suggests but English honours seems honourable. I will also not take a stand in order to please everyone.

VINCENT-
Fuck, another new college.

"That's not mean; mean is when I made Jen Mancini ride her bike home after I ass-fucked her."
- Johnny Drama (Entourage).

VOGUE

2008-03-11T18:58:00.001+05:30

PROLOGUE:

“The world’s big enough for all of us. And besides, so what if women could influence government, take over big business, alter domestic policy, dominate education, make the world a better place. In one important respect, we still had a lot to teach them. Yeah, when it came to being jerks, they still had a lot to learn.”
- TWY.

One fine day, as the boys were discussing their woes.

Patrick – How am I supposed to know the difference?
Terence – Huh.
Patrick – Between a lip gloss and nail paint.
Terence – Oh. This happens.
Patrick - Or a kajal and black lipstick.
Vincent – Ask women if they know what a PS3 is.
Terence – It’s like asking us what peep toes are.
Baharul - I am a peeping tom, I admit (he shouts).
Patrick – Easy man, don’t shout. So, what is a peeping toe?
Vincent – Peep toes are a style of shoes.
Terence – Right, they are not actual body parts.
Patrick – And how come both of you know?
Vincent – Oh. That’s a funny story.
Patrick – Tell me also.

FLASHBACK:

A year ago, Vincent and Terence gate crashed a very subtle yet obnoxious event. Terence was apprehensive but Vincent was cool like a cold turkey, “It’s a bloody subtle event and I am sporting a bloody stubble”. Many of the things which Vincent said had no concrete meaning which often seemed utterly and butterly pointless, but that’s what made Vincent a main ingredient in the recipe of our college life. Terence seemed confused but knew that it was a package that came along with Vincent.

The fine event was centralized in a private lawn around a rather beautiful water fountain. The night was clear and bright because of few stars which made up the formation of the large intestine. At such swanky places and events, the booze and grub are usually paid for; so the event was crashed and the two pretended like they knew everyone. After five rounds of the finest scotch, the voices grew louder or maybe it was just in their head and then out of nowhere, this extremely HOT woman tapped on Vincent’s shoulder. As he turned around, Terence drew a myopic mental perception of the hot woman. He calculated that the woman was well spoken but not well read, well dressed but not well attired, wealthy and snobbish but articulate with an attention for detail.

By the way, the intricate details mentioned have no major significance because she isn’t a major character. Anyway, she tapped Vincent’s shoulder and when he saw her, he turned ecstatic or maybe he wished he had some ecstasy, whatever it was; Vincent was shining in pride that a woman, that too a sizzling hot woman, approached him. Then he tried to project his gentleman type behavior and softly grinned while asking, “Helloo, how are you doing this evening?”, while he asked this question, Vincent quickly nudged Terence as if to say, “Watch the player do his thing”. Maybe the nudge came a little too soon because the hot woman said, “A cosmopolitan please and double up the service, it’s rather slow”.

Fuck. Vincent gave Santa Claus serious competition. Never had Terence seen this look on Vincent’s shameful face, he was all red (maybe in anger, maybe in embarrassment). Words, which flowed out of Vincent’s mouth like a down sloped river, seemed like some Mexican juice, unexplainable and uncommentable. It was a funny sight because the two were drunk and didn’t really know what happened till it actually happened. It took Vincent some minutes to gather himself and say, “You have got it wrong, I’m no waiter”. The situation might not seem funny on paper but it was initiatively laughable. The hot woman then replied with a typical woman-ish overtone, “Oh dear, apologies”. “That’s okay, I’m sure he took it nicely”, said Terence, who loved the moment as it was way too imaginatively funny.

Then Vincent notched up a smile. It was the kind of smile that we displayed when we visited spark-notes before any terminal examination. “I shall accept your apology only if you have some drinks with me”, Vincent said. She was reluctant as it clearly showed on her beautiful face; she was way above their league. She politely refused and stated, “My girlfriend is waiting outside and I just broke my heels”. Terence and Vincent thought, “There’s another one like her! Wow”. Terence offered her his zippo as she lit a cigarette which seemed imported. “Thanks, wish I had a ballerina or a peep toe right now. It would have been so comfortable for me”, she said this and both the boys heard just one word out of the complete sentence- ‘Peep Toes’.

Then Terence and Vincent have a whispering conversation.

Terence – Peep toes.
Vincent – Are you thinking what I am thinking?
Terence – I don’t know but I am thinking.
Vincent – I think she and her friend want us.
Terence – How can you say that?
Vincent – Peep toes.
Terence – So?
Vincent – She’ referring to our lovely genetic organs.
Terence – I don’t think so.
Vincent – Watch the player do his thing.

Then Vincent winked at her while saying, “You wanna see my dick, babe?”. She looked at him and said, “You got it wrong. Don’t read signals when there are no signs”. Vincent snapped back, “Are you talking about Derrida?”. “You can get lost now, you waiter face”, she further said, “Don’t take everything as a sexual lingo, peep toes are a style of shoes”.

Terence enjoyed the laughter, and the damage was done. Vincent’s ego and image dropped as though he was thrown out of a plane without parachutes. At a situation like this, it is very typical of a man to adapt strange defence mechanisms. “You said one of your girlfriends was waiting for you, therefore you dropped signs and when we caught the hints then you act pricey”, Vincent commented upon which the hot woman snorted, “I dropped no hints. I felt bad for calling you a waiter and spoke so that you wouldn’t feel humiliated. FYI, my girlfriend is my girlfriend. Not for both of you”.

There was an awful almost funny silence. Terence broke it, “So, you are a lesbian?”; Vincent quickly snapped, “There are no such things as lesbians, just women who never met me”.

“This is it. I’m leaving. I had no clue you would get ideas if I got a little friendly”, she further slammed, “It is because of men like you that women fancy themselves”. Then, she stormed out carrying her stilettos in her hand as the heels were broken. All this because of a peep toe.

The foggy flashback thoughts evaporated and one could hear Patrick and Baharul share smacking laughter.

Patrick – Ha ha, peep toes?
Vincent – Happens.
Patrick (mocking) – Watch the player do his thing. Balls!
Baharul – Was she a lesbian.
Terence – I think so.
Vincent – No she wasn’t.
Patrick – Then?
Vincent – She was playing hard to get.
Baharul – How do you know?
Vincent – Oh I know. I’m a … (he stops himself).
Patrick, Terence and Baharul – Player! Ha ha ha.

MORAL:

The power dynamics between men and women never stop, do they? Player or no player, peep toes or ballerinas; men are just about nothing without women. But still it's hard to find words to write something about women who leave a mark in our lives. The women I know may leave an impression of being submissive, but confidence is something they don’t lack. And that is really what woman-hood should be all about.

EPILOGUE:

“A woman has strengths that amaze men. She can handle trouble and carry heavy burdens. She holds happiness, love and opinions. She smiles when she feels like screaming. She sings when she feels likes crying, cries when she’s happy and laughs when she’s afraid. Her love is unconditional. There’s only one thing wrong with her, she sometimes forgets what she is worth.”
- Some feminist (who never claims to be one).

Happy ‘belated’ Women’s Day.

PS- Belated, on purpose, because she ‘is’ often forgotten (like this post). Btw, this post is titled ‘Vogue’ for the exact reason.

URBAN LEGEND

2008-02-25T00:03:00.005+05:30

“An Urban Legend is similar to a modern folklore consisting of stories thought to be factual by those circulating them. Urban legends are not necessarily untrue, but they are often distorted, exaggerated, or sensationalized over time.

People sometimes take urban legends to be true, instead of recognizing them as tall tales or unsubstantiated rumours, because of the way they are told. The teller of an urban legend may claim it happened to a friend, which serves to personalize and enhance the power of the narrative. Since people, unconsciously or otherwise, often exaggerate, conflate or edit stories when telling them, urban legends can evolve over time.

Additionally, urban legends will often contain a grain of truth (in that, many urban legends are at least somewhat plausible, if not actually possible).”

Monica rightly pointed, “This blog is turning into a boy’s night out fun shit.”

Actually, the blog was supposed to be a reflection of the collective thoughts in college and honestly, the fact remains that the guys had a little more fun. I know it’d be a hard pill to swallow for the other sex but we do love the other sex (okay, let’s not go there).
A ‘women-only’ post was on my mind ages ago but then, like you know, apprehensions run deeper than comprehensions. The only thing that paused me was the reaction, but then I realized that menopause would take place when one would turn 60 and since I am just 23, I should not pause.

INLINE:

We were quite sucked into Greek literature sometime back. This post is somewhat related to that supernatural zone and hence, has words which come from Mount Olympus (I’m sure you’re thinking of the camera, dumb douche-bags!). Be smart, don’t believe whatever it says. Well, believe the Greek mythology for all the glamour attached but don’t believe its relevance with the post. But in case, you do believe the relevance then welcome to the world of Super Perception.

OUTLINE:

Back in the innocent days, there were two MAJOR groups. We had no hood or a ghetto therefore they were just groups not gangs.
The Athenas’ were the ones who had wisdom, wit and craft. They were intelligent, very social, accurate and jovial however there was a catch. They owned a lance to dance from France called ‘arrogance’.
The Aphrodites’ were the wish list of many mortals. They were suave and beauty was the major highlight. However, they had brains to match the looks and with this combination, they carried a fragrance called ‘arrogance’.

By Arrogance, I don’t mean ‘that’ arrogance. It only implies arrogance as a similarity.

CHARACTER ASSASINATION (ALPHABETICALLY):

Amanda (Athenas’) - An individual whose ideas knew no boundaries. She had the firmness to take a strong stand for people close to her and had a fetish for good looking men. Musically inclined and fanatically impulsive.

Monica (Aphrodites’) – Headstrong, aggressive and anti-orthodox. She knew what she wanted and she often got what she wanted (in any way). She’d come initially across as snobbish and sarcastic but that’s how she liked to portray herself.

Rihanna (Athenas’) – Blend of conservatism and modernity. Good orator, super active in social causes and a bad judge of people. She had a mind of her own but often chose not to speak it. Extremely popular and ultimately- most spoken about.

Samantha (Aphrodites’) – Extremely well spoken and brilliantly crafted for making anyone feel like a flop-show. Emotion was her only weakness but she made sure she kept it under the wraps. If there was someone she loathed, she’d leave no stone unturned to put across a statement.

Now, these were the four major characters however, they were two other very important characters who would be absolutely pivotal later on-
Nancy and Miranda (The Twins) - The Artemis’.

By the way- Patrick, Vincent, Terence, Baharul, Hitesh, Subhojit, Abhishek, Ved, Kotoky were the ‘Satyrs’.
According to Greek mythology, ‘Satyrs’ were part human and part beast and were the gods of woods and mountains who amused themselves by drinking, merry making and pursuing the nymphs of the forest.

Patrick, Vincent, Kotoky and Terence were with the Aphrodites’,
Baharul, Hitesh, Ved and Abhishek supported the Athenas’.
Subhojit could not make a choice and abused other Satyrs’.

BITTER SWEET SYMPHONY:

‘The silence often caused violence’.

The Athenas’ never saw eye to eye with the Aphrodites’. Call it an inability or call it an ego clash, the two groups had issues that tissues couldn’t wipe. First things first, Athenas’ hated the exaggerated liberation policy practiced by Aphrodites’. This resulted in a series of events which only resulted in hiding notes which were meant for mass distribution. We could see the entire difference in the ethos, pathos and stilettos when the Aphrodites’ chose a Goa trip and the Athenas’ headed for Pakistan. That gave the Satyrs’ a lot of gossip.

Vincent – Aphrodites’ like to enjoy and that’s the right thing.
Baharul – Athenas’ are trying to improve the society.
Patrick – Society can eat my balls.
Ved – If we don’t improve society then you’ll never enjoy life.
Terence – Life is not sex which can be enjoyed.
Ved – Ya, I think you are right.
Kotoky – He is not right, he is Terence.
Baharul – So, who do you like?
Kotoky – Oh kela, what do you mean? Baal kela!
Hitesh – They are all nice but…
Patrick – Aphrodites’ rule and that’s it.
Baharul – Tell me whom you like.
Terence – You like an Athena’, don’t ask us weird questions.
Baharul – Yes, I love her. So?
Kotoky – Kela.
Hitesh – I liked Samantha earlier.
Kotoky – Me too.
Vincent – Apparently, you like Nancy too, eh?
Hitesh – So what? I have a large heart. Enough space for love.
Patrick – Fuck you bitch. How many times have you fallen in love?
Hitesh – Only twice.

Abhishek – Guys, I think I can’t perform when it matters.
Baharul – Arrey, even I performed badly in the exams.
Vincent – He means another performance, jackass.
Baharul – Accha, dance performance?
Patrick – No man. Try to understand.
Baharul – Then it must be a singing performance.
Kotoky – Kela.
Vincent – Exactly !
Baharul – Haww! Naughty boy.
Abhishek – Throw this guy out.
Patrick – Abhishek man, just fake it.
Abhishek – It’s not emotional, it’s mechanical.
Vincent – Come to papa. Come here.

Anyway, the ‘Satyrs’ were pretty much united in conversations as compared to the other two groups. You should have noticed that Subhojit was no where in the ‘Satyrs’ conversation, that’s because he was busy running errands for both the groups. Every one knew that would take it’s toll someday, just like a bridge takes a toll for the crap it undergoes. One day, it happened, Rihanna did not like Subhojit mingling too much with a group who thought getting wasted was the best way to waste time. The ultimatum was given by Rihanna and surprisingly, Subhojit ignored her. It was speculatively surprising because of the relation Subhojit and Rihanna shared, they were like siblings and for all the love and affection they shared, Subhojit chose the Aphrodites’. No one can find a reason even now. People say that Subhojit fell for Amanda and she did not reciprocate or maybe that Subhojit thought he had a chance to learn all about make up and foundation with the Aphrodites’. The buzz that went around that specific time- Clueless.

One would assume many things but the fact remained. The Athenas’ hated the Aphrodites’ and the feeling was horridly mutual. We can guess why Rihanna issued an ultimatum to Subhojit and the following is the best analysis.
The Athenas’ were working on some college activity and Rihanna was busy with the billboard hoarding preparations. She worked very hard and expected appreciation for her efforts. The hoarding was up and Monica casually pointed to Subhojit that it should have been-
Ramjas College and HT present.
NOT Ramjas College and HT presents.

Subhojit laughed on Rihanna’s face over this and this evidently upset her a lot. This episode probably got Amanda and Rihanna to issue the ultimatum and boy, the ultimatum was golden just like any golden globe award. Anyway, like stated, he refused and chose to be with the ‘supposed’ eye candies of the college. Rihanna called Monica a wild heron thereafter and it also marked the aggression of both groups. Amanda spilled a bottle of ‘strawberry pickle’ inside Monica’s croc skinned Louis Vitton. That triggered Monica to an extent that Amanda had to lose some of her golden locks because of a chewing gum placed very strategically. One fine day, Samantha took the banter to another level. She asked if people actually help the ‘needy’ because they want to or because it adds to their resume. Concrete facts might entertain the thought that Samantha was only voicing what other people started but if that is a fact then we need to know who the other people were. Samantha was great in her ways. She was immensely outspoken, funny and full of wit but what she wanted was 'the mansion and not the apartment'. For the record, guys like Terence and Vincent would love to stay in an apartment and enjoy the weekend football with some anti-depressives.

Here’s a flash. Samantha was an ‘ex Athena’. Monica always claimed that Samantha quit the ‘Athenas’ whereas one Satyr swore that she was ignored when she was an Athenian. If there was any constant throughout the three years, it had to be the Patrick-Monica relation. The Aphrodites were a significant modern 'mansion' compared to the ever comfortable 'apartment' horizon that Athenas represented. The more you saw, the less you knew. People say that implementation of things is what keeps things going but as the world looks for order; there are some things which break the order and interrupt the exodus.

Between all the seriousness, there was a sweet funny patch. Apparently, a satyr had fallen for one of the Athenas. There was a lot of misunderstanding teamed with miscommunication. That makes you wonder, doesn’t it, as to how a mass communication aspirant would let miscommunication creep in, but it did. To solve it all, the innocent satyr presented a bouquet of the choicest roses straight from Mughal garden. This was followed by a nice conversation with the satyr carefully hearing every word-

Amanda – Wow. A bouquet. Congratulations.
Rihanna – Jeez, in full public view!
Amanda – Now you will be historically remembered.
(Some one behind gives a loud ‘bollywoodish’ giggle)
Rihanna – It’s not funny.
Amanda – It’s romantic, right?
Rihanna – It’s not fair.
Amanda – Flowers have the power.
Rihanna – But why me? I never instigated anything.
Amanda – The Ocean of love communicates.
Rihanna – Try to understand, all this could have negative effect.
Amanda – Yeah baby, but enjoy the moment.
Rihanna – I’m embarrassed. Really.
Amanda – It’s a gesture. Acknowledge it.
Rihanna – Notes behind every flower? Some gesture!

Amanda – This proves he was a science student earlier.
Rihanna – How?
Amanda – We are studying ‘Romanticism’ theory.
Rihanna – So?
Amanda – This was his practical.
Rihanna – Very funny.
Amanda – Trust me, he’ll give a viva and write a thesis too.
Rihanna – So, it is all science.
Amanda – Yes. And considering the blog we are in which is fiction.
Rihanna – The entire thing means, this is science fiction!
Amanda – Ahaan!!!

So, would you really believe it was science fiction?

Anyway, in between the realms of reality, the Athenas were walking on thin ice too. Though not concretely visible, Amanda and Rihanna had minor black outs. It happened when Rihanna took assertiveness seriously when she approached Amanda with a heartfelt propaganda to welcome a satyr’s feelings. And like Newton once stated that every action has an equal and opposite reaction, there was reaction but of a different kind. The kind that broke the satyr’s heart but which was stitched immediately over the thread of ‘more than a friend, less than a boyfriend’.

You can’t blame the satyr here because according to another satyr, the satyr in question had a mixed preference. Apparently, he swung the other way and the ‘much claimed’ love was a cover for his sexuality. Things were further proved when a ‘female’ junior failed to instigate his hormonal feelings.

As weeks went on, the Athenas were losing grip and the Aphrodites leisurely spent time at DSE. Amanda was developing a close bond with the Artemis. Nancy and Miranda were slowly overtaking Rihanna in Amanda’s life. Maybe she was undergoing a change, a change in the head and a change in life. Although none of it was ever made public but it showed. Rihanna was increasingly busy with social work and people said that Amanda was the one who was used to the attention and that’s where eyes didn’t meet. On the other hand, the sledging between Aphrodites and Athenas didn’t cease. Heaven knows why.

Nancy and Miranda were the best friends that people often spoke about. They were together and happy. On one occasion, they were BOTH seen wearing pink sweaters, pink socks, pink stoles and similar sandals. Both of them were 'leftists' but not Marxists. Miranda once wrote a love letter on behalf of Nancy when the latter’s hand was not well. Such was the bonding; they shared lives and were the thickest friends. Vincent claimed they would marry each other sometime in future and he would be the perfect prop.

Don’t we all agree that life picks up when we are at our lowest. Miranda and Monica had nothing in common except for the letters ‘M’ and the wonder boy, Patrick. No hidden icons here but in almost every banter that the two women indulged in, Patrick had a part, intentional or non-intentional. I wouldn’t go into the details of any fight but here’s a tiny example-

Monica – Stay away woman.
Miranda – You stay away and get on your life.
Monica – Do you even have a life to consider?
Miranda – I do, better than yours.
Monica – Yeah, that’s why you opt for forbidden objects.
Miranda – Don’t be a bitch.
Monica – Whom are you calling a bitch, bitch?
Miranda – WHOM are you calling a bitch, bitch?
Monica – Whom are YOU calling a bitch, bitch?
Vincent – Cut it out, girls. Love each other.
Patrick – Show me some love!

Winter bought a significant change. It was a time when all the women were significantly okay with each other. Don’t ask me how. It just happened. Well, that’s what we’d like to believe. Even if there was any hidden animosity, it was tried best to ignore. That was a good stage because all the women were passing smiles and kisses as if they were contesting for a beauty pageant show. They invited each other for social gatherings and fucking greeted each other first thing in the morning. One irritating thing was when they acknowledged each other as ‘baby’, ‘darling’, ‘doll’. It wouldn’t seem to the women but the men had a good laugh over it.

And boom! Just when we thought we lost the spice. All the women had ‘new’ issues to talk about. I guess the phrase ‘same old brand new you’ spread across yet again. Then, as the months went on, a lot of things kept happening. The cold war, mud throwing, sling matches, jab crunching, pasted chewing gum, personality attacks, relationship agonies, mental games, side kick upsets; all this never ‘actually’ ceased but still within that year of enormous finding, the women realized they were up for a lost cause and realized that another group stole all attention right under their nose. However, the time zone when ‘The Artemis’ attacked the Aphrodites and Athenas, some Satyrs shifted loyalty and probably because they were extremely tempted to. Who knows? But the fact was that no one knew which satyr supported whom.

There was also a time when global warming was compared to being activists and feminists were equivalent to global fretting. If you should know, then Athenas were the activists and Aphrodites were the feminists.

Sometime back, Monica and Miranda swore ‘non solemn’ words to each other over the phone. Then there were further mud-slangs thrown. Apparently, Samantha and Miranda spent some time together and when everyone assumed all was well; a well noted fact came out – Insecurity once, insecurity forever. Topics like diary entries, physicalities, mentalities, pot shots, leaked secrets, murdered trusts all came under the sun when it was absolutely raining cats and dogs. A satyr says, “It happened because they tried living together and besides, trying to forget the past even though they had their loyalties else where is dangerous.”

Samantha and Miranda were at it, full fledged, in public-

Nancy-
Bitching is considered a damn healthy option.

Samantha-
You telling me babe that bitching is healthy? Then I’m sure your best friend is the healthiest unfit person in class of 2007. Patrick and Monica, do you guys agree? And for your kindest info, Nancy, that woman has told me every single personal detail of your life in just a span of one week. Over and out (regarding this topic).

Miranda-
Oh no. It’s just begun woman...wait. Look who the fuck is bitching now; that too to people's best friends thinking they'll believe HER!! We sure know she is the MOST trustworthy person in class. Of course she is, she can dictate when a topic begins and when it ends... ha!! And as far as personal details go, I’m sure I can write documents on HER friend’s lives. I just don’t waste my time on stuff some people spend their lives on, like peculating negative image of people just for random publicity and being OBSESSED with personal details.

Samantha-
Woman, your long and loud comment proves you are guilty because at least I didn’t have to justify myself to people because they all know what you are from the beginning. Tell me na, what'd I say about my friends? Tell me, I’m curious and trust me I have nothing to do with Nancy either but I thought she should know who's told me everything about her, from her personal diary to her love life; poor Nancy, trusting a deadly serpent! All I’m glad about is you got through IIMC or else your negative effect would’ve rubbed off on me too and I don’t bitch behind people's back, what I have to say I say it then and there and everyone knows that. Miranda, one piece of advice- stop thinking the entire world is after you! Get a life please.

Miranda-
The bond between Nancy and her best friend is way too strong for ANY one who wishes to engage them in cat fights; unlike some other so called best friends who love bitching about each other! (NOW IT’S OVER AND OUT) blabber you female. I withdraw my attention from your cheap tricks!

Nancy-
Both of you stop now. The boys are having fun over this. We must unite as women and beat the shit of the boys.

Alas, it never happened. But here’s a thought-

Good girls keep diaries,
Bad girls don’t have time.

All the women mentioned in the post are significant, no matter what ANYONE thinks. The difference in opinion among all of them gave us a bitter sweet symphony. And like they say, ‘Variety adds spice to life’, we saw the spice and we, men, admit that we love these women no matter who was right or wrong. Just imagine! The women got into this mud battle only to entertain us, that’s being very very thoughtful. (Okay, don’t take it seriously).

Jokes apart, today, Amanda and Monica come across as pleasant surprises to each other. They make plans to meet and talk about the weather, books and the city; but they never get an opportunity to meet. Maybe they’d find it weird or strange to sit and have a free flowing conversation. In that case, they should stand and talk. Both the women have undergone quite a year. Both haven’t received what they truly want and both have suffered a little more than they deserved.

There could have been a mention of a relationship gone sour because somebody wanted that relationship for herself but then again, it’s easy to be judgmental knowing only one side of the story. However, since it would only recall old hurts so it’s best to not mention it and walk on.

SUMMARY:

It is quite impossible to summarize what actually went on and who actually was right. Perhaps, they started on the wrong foot in college but, now, as we mature with every passing day, it only helps to feel that life isn’t about fighting over petty issues. Please note that everything written is not a judgemental theory about what was right or wrong; neither is it about a morality report card. And for all the women who found some space in this post-

You can dance; you can jive, having the time of your life
See that girl, watch that scene, dig in the Dancing Queen.

Finally, I didn’t mean to go very personal and hollow but sometimes fiction should take a backseat. And even if reality is in the front seat, we realize that we are all running to a stand still.

CASABLANKET

2008-02-19T04:37:00.002+05:30

There are two positive things that happen when you finish college. You get a post graduate degree and work. A post graduate degree would help you gain contacts and some other valuables. You work because you have to, not because you want to. That’s the underlying reality of the cruel world we live in.
- Patrick.

There are two positive things that happen when you finish college. You either work or you opt for further studies. Well, you don’t opt for further studies, you are selected on the basis of vigorous interview and discussion sessions; but that’s another story so let’s just assume that you opt for further studies. As far as work goes, you work because you have to eat and survive. That’s the sadistic reality of the cruel world we live in.
- Terence.

There are two negative things that happen when you finish college. You want to study further yet you work. You work because that helps you come in contact with newer models of the other species. You work because you know, somewhere really deep within your heart, that there is an ‘Ugly Betty’ waiting for the transformation and wanting to get laid. That’s the pivotal reality of the cruel world we live in.
- Vincent.

June 2007:

College was over and done with, that’s what we thought. But we lived in the thought and continued whisking the summer drooling over TV shows and internet consumption. And then the phone rang:

Tillie-let Tillie-let, Tillie-let Tillie-let.

Terence – Hello?
Patrick – Hey, what’s up?
Terence – The usual.
Patrick – Wanna work?
Terence – Depends. Where?
Patrick – The company is called CVENT.
Terence – Cement!
Patrick – C VENT, asshole.
Terence – What do we have to do?
Patrick – Does it matter?
Terence – Of course, it’s about integrity.
Patrick - They pay us 18k.
Terence – I’m coming.
Patrick – Monica and Samantha would also join us.
Terence – Sure.
Patrick – Call Vincent too.
Terence – He must have known already. Telepathy.

Tillie-let Tillie-let, Tillie-let Tillie-let

Vincent – Yes?
Terence – I have a job for you.
Vincent – The only job I want is a blowjob.
Terence – Think decent, at times.
Vincent – Okay, handjob will do.
Terence – Opening at CVENT.
Vincent – Cement!
Terence – C VENT, asshole.
Vincent – What’s the job detail?
Terence – They pay us 20k.
Vincent – I will sell myself for that amount.
Terence – All right, I’ll see you when I see you.

Couple of days later. Terence and Vincent meet at the metro station, as they wait for Patrick, Monica and Samantha, they start a conversation-

Terence – Here’s your resume.
Vincent – You call this a resume!
Terence – No, I call it the periodic table.
Vincent – Jackass, Paris Hilton is not my ambition in life.
Terence – Shit. Just throw stuff when they ask you.
Vincent – What the fuck do I say?
Terence – Tell them you want to open new Hilton resort in Paris.
Vincent – You think the interviewers are dumb.
Terence – Well, they called us for an interview.
Vincent – Aha, now you make sense.

Meanwhile the two discuss things that shouldn’t be discussed. Patrick, Monica and Samantha arrive an hour later.

Patrick – Hello.
Vincent – You smell good, is that aqua marine?
Terence – It’s probably nicotine.
Patrick – You have your resumes, right?
Vincent and Terence – Right.
Patrick – Let’s go. It’s an hour from here.
Terence – Why couldn’t they come to us?
Vincent – Yeah, why do we have to go to them?
Patrick – You can’t have your cake and eat it too.
Terence – What good is a cake if you can’t eat it?
Vincent – Why should I eat someone else’s cake instead?
Patrick – It’s a proverb, a saying.
Vincent – Proverb saying what?
Patrick – Never mind. Can we go?

Meanwhile the two women were busy conversing with each other and therefore, they aren’t too vocal in this post. Anyway, the five of them hopped into the metro only to get down at some weird place to catch a local transport. A yellow DTC bus with fresh pukes, semi pisses, dry nose wastes, shining yeasts, solid saliva and probably hand ridden semen all over the seats.

Fret not and don’t make faces. They placed themselves far away from the ‘special’ seats and also took some pictures. Speaking of which, that’s where the ‘hand of god’ was conceived. An hour later, they got down from the public transport and that’s when the two women thought they’d rather visit a friend staying nearby than attend a boring interview session. So they left. Patrick, Terence and Vincent caught hold of another public transport and drove off in that beauty for about twenty minutes. The beauty referred to was a cycle rickshaw, which incidentally couldn’t race a van which carried nearly fifteen people. The fifteen people were also called for an interview and they stopped midway to ask for directions, since they were lost and confused like us. Now, there was a problem. No matter how absurd the situation, we don’t ask for directions. We simply don’t. Like Hannibal said,
‘We will either find a way or make a way’.

To our ego’s surprise, we arrived at the specified location at the specific time. Well, almost specific thanks to traffic. Atlantic ocean versus the pacific. Kindly ignore the last sentence. Upon entering the office, Terence realized his fly was open which meant it must have been open all the way through but that’s debatable. Meanwhile, Patrick asked Monica and Samantha to, at least, give the interview. Within all the meanwhiles, the conference room was populated by the fifteen people whom the three encountered on the way. A short introduction round was followed with a mini history class on CVENT clienteles, profiles and turnovers.

During the short orientation session, Vincent tried his best to make eye contact with a slender (slim + tender) female across his table; Vincent’s idea of eye contact was playing see-saw with his eye brows with his tongue wagging out. Patrick kept messaging Monica and Terence tried his level best not fall asleep. And suddenly, loud sounds of sharp stilettos could be heard which incidentally broke everyone’s already broken attention.

Monica and Samantha stormed into the room and explained that the traffic situation was overly pathetic and started cursing the government. The man in charge, the CEO, asked them to take their seat and Vincent suddenly popped this, “Where?”

While the CEO kept going on about the company, Monica and Samantha kept on with their unfinished conversation. The CEO requested them thrice to maintain decorum but don’t we all know that entertaining silence is something most women find hard to achieve. So, the CEO was pissed and asked them to leave. Monica and Samantha just rose and stormed out. They banged the glass door so hard that it remains stuck even today. Luckily, there were two doors. Once the orientation finished, we were taken to an aisle to test our writing skills combined with speed and comprehension. As we walked out of the room after the orientation, the CEO asked us if we were with the two ‘rude’ women. ‘No’ came the answer in chorus. Wicked eh.

We, then, sat on twin computers for the written test. Terence and Patrick took lots of time to complete the work whereas Vincent finished in a jiffy. Here’s the real deal- Vincent finished really early and didn’t know what to do with the free time so he fondled with his article and the fonts. He had each paragraph to a different font and colour which included pink, maroon, orange and red. Can you remotely imagine? A six or seven paragraph article with different colours and fonts, that too in an online written test. No wonder he was noted to be too colourful for the company.

Patrick and Terence breezed through the test and managed to impress at the final interview. The chief interviewer told us that there was an opening for only post and only candidate would get the final nod. But like they say, a squint and a pint never reply back. We never received any notification and still wonder who eventually got the job. By the time, we finished all the formalities; we realized that we were running late. The office was kind enough to provide us with transport to any place we desired. Vincent suggested we take the vehicle to Kasauli but Terence was too pissed since Vincent lost Terence’s zippo. Fuck, Vincent still owes Terence a zippo.

Upon much debate, they finally headed to Kotoky’s place to get some rest. On the way, Vincent sweet talked the driver to stop near a local liquor store where he got down and bought the valuables. After a while, a police van stopped the vehicle we were traveling in and at the spur of the moment decided not to check our belongings. As we wondered why, Vincent told us, “Relax. I have the police in my pockets”. Little did we know that he meant pants. Here’s the actual story-

Officer – Where are you boys going at this time?

Vincent gets out of the car and takes the officer to a corner. Then they speak.

Vincent – Please sir, we are students.
Officer – I can sense you are carrying alcohol.
Vincent – Can we please settle it?
Officer – Are you bribing me? Fucker (native language).
Vincent – No no, I’m only showing the love.

Officer takes a good look at him.

Officer – Fine. Come alone to my house tomorrow.
Vincent – (Gulps) But why sir?
Officer – What do you expect? For letting you three go.
Vincent – Okay, but I have a condition.
Officer – What? Protection?
Vincent – No, that’s your wish.
Officer – Then?
Vincent – Let me act cool in front of these two.
Officer – You will say that you threatened me?
Vincent – Yes. And that I have police in my pocket.
Officer – Okay but tomorrow at 10 pm sharp.
Vincent – (Gulps) Sshharp? Ok...kay.

The police van disappears after secretly taking Vincent’s phone number. Patrick and Terence were inside the car and only saw them talking. They were relieved to see the police van go away. That’s when Vincent arrogantly came towards the vehicle.

Vincent – I have the police in my pockets.
Patrick – That’s amazing.
Terence – Brilliant.
Vincent – Hail to the machine. Me.

Afterword:
"Accept that some days you're the pigeon and some days you're the statue."
- Scott Adams.

A FINE VALENTINE

2008-02-14T00:49:00.002+05:30

It’s Valentines Day. Yes, we know that it’s a shite idea but here’s a post which talks of a guy’s perspective and perception of the idea.

Assembled, assorted and assumed. Don’t expect something brilliant.

SCENE I:

Vincent comes to meet Patrick and Terence with a wide grin. The grin gives away one particular pubic hair between his teeth. Knowing Vincent, he could have placed it on purpose to attract weird attention but like always, ignorance was a virtue.

Terence – Yo mofo, heard you just banged somebody.
Vincent – Oh yes. After a long time.
Patrick – Tell me also.
Vincent – Well, both of us wanted it. Wild and wicked.
Terence – What’s her name?
Vincent – Err. I don’t know man.
Terence – Tsk tsk, you are a rotten man.
Vincent – Look who’s talking!
Patrick – Ha ha. LMAO!
Vincent – Look who’s laughing.
Patrick – Hain?
Vincent – Don’t ‘hain’ me. You are not milk washed.
Patrick – Okay okay.
Terence – So, you plan to meet her again?
Vincent – No man, she said something which pissed me.
Patrick – What? Tell us also.
Vincent – Well, she suddenly got up and left.
Terence – But why?
Patrick – You must have done something stupid.
Vincent – I did not. I am a gentleman.
Terence – Did she say why she was leaving?
Vincent – She just told me one thing before storming out.
Terence – What did she say?
Patrick – Tell me also.
Vincent – ‘My ears are not handles’.

SCENE II:

A very very lazy afternoon at DSE when a women’s magazine interrupted a normal free flowing ‘abuse filled’ conversation. The magazine was called ‘Cosmina Ellgue’ which was the supposed merger between ‘Cosmopolitan’, ‘Femina’, ‘Elle’ and ‘Vogue’.
Anyway, the details aren’t necessary; unlike the power of perception. We didn’t care about the merger or the magazine but the journalist insisted and we somehow agreed to take part in the survey.

Journalist - Make love to a random woman only after you've both shared:

Subhojit - Expectations from a sexual relationship.
Baharul - Our blood-test results.
Terence - No blackmail vows.
Patrick – Time and maturity.
Vincent - Five tequila slammers.

Journalist – Foreplay is to sex as:

Baharul – A trailer is to a movie.
Patrick – A queue is to an amusement park ride.
Terence – Seeing is to reading.
Vincent – Breakfast is to dinner.

Journalist – You think today’s sensitive, caring man is:

Kotoky – Available.
Patrick – Gay.
Baharul – An oxymoron.
Terence – A moron.
Vincent – A myth (like the Bazooka).

Journalist – In the company of feminists, intercourse should be referred to:

Patrick – Making love.
Baharul – Sax.
Subhojit – Screwing.
Terence – Sex.
Vincent – The pigskin bus into tuna town.

Journalist - Passionate, spontaneous sex on the kitchen floor is:

Baharul – A dream.
Kotoky – Bloody (broken glasses all over)
Patrick - Something my girlfriend need never find out about.
Terence – A way of life.
Vincent – Been there, done that (Yawn!).

Journalist - Spending the whole night cuddling a woman you've just had sex with is:

Patrick – The best part of the experience.
Baharul – A dream, sigh.
Terence – The second best thing.
Vincent – 100 bucks extra.

Journalist - What are you most likely to say at the end of a relationship?

Patrick – Sorry, better luck next time.
Baharul – We will always be good friends.
Terence – Welcome to Dumpsville. Population: YOU.
Vincent – Can we keep the sex?

Journalist - A woman who is uncomfortable watching you masturbate:

Abhishek – I don’t give a fuck.
Baharul – Hee hee, what silly questions? Uffo!
Subhojit – Is uptight and waste of time.
Hitesh – What’s your point?
Vincent – Shouldn’t have sat next to me in the bus.

SCENE III:

Anurag Kotoky, Baharul Islam and Subhojit Sanyal party one day. All of them get super drunk and wasted. They talk about things ranging from literature to history, music to sports, future to skiing. Then they fall asleep and share a bed, like usual.

Baharul wakes up next morning with a question on his face. He looks around and notices Kotoky sleeping happily between the three and Subhojit snoring next to Kotoky. He, then, holds a very inquisitive expression. The other two wake up slowly.

Baharul – Man, this is weird.
Subhojit – We shared a bed, big deal.
Baharul – Not that.
Kotoky – Then what?
Baharul – I had this vivid dream of getting a handjob.
Subhojit – What the fuck! I had the same dream.
Baharul – Kotoky, what did you dream about?
Kotoky – That’s funny.
Subhojit – Why?
Kotoky – I dreamt I was skiing.

Happy Valentines to all the ‘idiotic’ hopeless romantics.
Spread love, not AIDS.

Note – Some of the content is derived from external factors (The Internet). The artist is not to be blamed.

CONSTIPATED SUPERHEROES

2008-02-07T00:51:00.001+05:30

There’s a huge ordeal about the existence of 'Superheroes'. Some people claim they exist, some say it’s a mind game and some say things which shouldn’t be said here. This world may or may not need a 'Superhero' but what it actually needs is an environment free from external and internal problem creating agencies. There was a time when the world was perfect and that was before some dumb paracetomol eating douche-bag opened the pandora’s box. Thereafter, we were bestowed with greed, ego, envy, jealousy, hatred and so on (read: Greek mythology).

All right. It was fun while it lasted. Don’t use brains from next time. Anyway, the society that exists has space for a ‘Season Latest’ in Vogue but no-where is a slot for 'Superheroes'. But then, Vogue wouldn’t feature ‘Superheroes’ unless there was a change in the 'Superhero' costumes. Fashion to heroics, see the similies.

Every word mentioned above in the two paragraphs is what today’s 'Superheroes' think about. Yes, you are right. We have three 'Superheroes' amongst us. Vincent, Patrick and Terence might just look, talk and walk like any normal ‘random’ guy but the perception goes deep, maybe deeper and who knows, maybe deepest.

A motivation, such as a sense of responsibility (Spiderman), a personal vendetta against criminals (Batman) or a strong belief in justice and humanitarian service (Superman).

While it would be awe-fucking-some to become a 'Superhero' and save the world. Think of all the difficulties the three would undergo.

Vincent would take red underwears too seriously which he usually does. Anwyay, Superman sucked. Really, it was like 'Good morning Kryptonite' (whatever the effing spelling) and 'Goodnight Superman'. Patrick would gone a little mental jumping from one building to another, apparantly he jumps only to feel the balls touch each other. Terence would go absolutely ballistic if he was ever gifted with something like a laser X-ray fucking vision. Leave the world, he would not be able to save himself. This goes on, Vincent would be able to fly but that would be of no significance because a strong gush of breeze can make him fly anyway. Patrick and Terence would rather save and preserve their own arse instead of saving the worlds’.

When somebody would plead, “Come on, you have to save the world?”. The instant inner answer to throttle would be ‘depends’.

So, 'Superheroes' is not really a valid idea and is quite shite. True, the three have been chosen and cannot fondle with destiny but if they have lazy asses then the world will have to wait.

And believe it, patience is a virtue.

POWER DYNAMICS

2008-02-01T12:13:00.002+05:30

“Most of what we learn in the first five years of elementary school will be valid all our life.
Most of what we learn in the first few years of a college degree won’t be”

A man should NEVER underestimate the thinking speed of a woman. Terence and Vincent don’t think so because of the fact that they have a ‘done it’ chart where they place all records and events. Patrick didn’t think so until he was taught a sweet lesson.

One normal winter morning, when we were ‘not’ waiting for our professor to turn up, we were engaged in a nice conversation. College represents a different charm during winters. It’s when the complexion of the fairer sex seems better as if they applied ‘foundation’ in every aspect. The warm heavy jackets, fur coats, pashmina stoles would reveal skin but don’t all ‘the’ boys like to live in a city called ‘Voluptuocity’.

Terence – Winters. Wow.
Vincent – Women. Wow.
Terence – Winter women. Wow.
Baharul – Yesterday, I was listening to Bow Wow.
Vincent – I’d rather choose Bappi Lahiri.
Baharul – Don’t ridicule Subhojit. He’s my friend.
Terence – Does he swing the other way?
Vincent – Only with Hitesh.
Baharul – Ha ha, they still play on swings!
Terence to Vincent – Nevermind.

Meanwhile, there was another conversation going on.

Monica – Get lost, Patrick.
Samantha – If only someone paid you for talking absolute garbage.
Patrick – Then what would happen?
Samantha – Then you would have been a billionaire.
Patrick – I see.
Baharul – ‘I see you’ is about to release.
Monica – Gawd. You are so off topic.
Patrick – But Samantha, admit it. Men think faster.
Samantha – Balls.
Patrick – I won the debate. I won the debate. Yay.
Monica – We didn’t even start debating.
Patrick – I won the debate. I won the debate. Yay.
Samantha – Don’t go mental now.
Patrick – I won the debate. I won the debate. Yay.
Monica – You are irritating me now.
Patrick – I won the debate. I won the debate. Yay.
Samantha – You are simply scared.
Patrick – I won the debate. I won the debate. Yay.

Patrick was really loud in his excitement. Everyone heard him.

Vincent – Yo mofo, my baby won something?
Patrick – I kicked ‘feminism’ today.
Terence – Welcome to the club.
Baharul – Club? Which club?
Vincent – I’ll hit you with a club! (frustrated).
Patrick – Ignore that man. We rule.
Terence – Hey, Samantha’s written something on the board.

The board read-
PATRICK SUCKS

Patrick – Baah, no big deal. I have got it covered.
Vincent – Need help?
Patrick – Did the gladiators ever ask for help?

Patrick walked up to the board and chalked something which had him all smiling. His smile seemed as though he had just released a heavy controlled fart.

The board now read-
PATRICK SUCKS GOOD

Patrick – I won the debate. I won the debate. Yay.
Vincent –Nice.
Terence – Yeah, good thinking.
Patrick – I am the king.
Baharul – Samantha’s writing something.

The board now read-
PATRICK SUCKS HIMSELF GOOD

Samantha – High five!
Monica – Yo girl, you the woman!

Patrick – Shit. I thought I won. Shit.
Vincent – You know, gladiators often get eaten up by lions.
Terence – So, why so glum, chum?
Patrick – Shit. I thought I won. Shit.

There you go. That’s the beauty of playing with the fairer sex. They let you think that you’ve won. You will not receive the big punch till the last round. So let’s do what men should do- Love their respective women and respect their thinking.

P.S- After everyone left, Vincent and Terence edited the board.

The board now read-
PATRICK SUCKS DEEP & CALLS HIMSELF SUPER GOOD.

So. Who finally won? I suspect- MEN.

THE FIXED DETOUR

2008-01-22T19:01:00.002+05:30

Tom Lehrer was absolutely right when he wrote this song, “Bright College Days”. The beauty behind anything is appreciated when it’s completely over and that’s how, I guess, we feel right now. Or maybe not. Maybe we are no one to talk about beauty. Maybe we are only justified to be the beasts. Wait, maybe I suck at being funny. Maybe ‘maybe’ is my favourite word.

Anyway, just like other kids, college days for us meant the experience of ups and downs in bizarre mannerisms. The three years of relationships, rivalries, accusations, laugh riots, one night stands (platonic), soggy eyes, bust lusts and the unfortunate studies made us pretty much a part of the world that believed that life ended after college.

And while the world went crazy, there was a place for us. A place which did not let us foot bills or run silly domestic errands. A place which welcomed us with open arms (rather- open gates). DSE was our Miami in winters and Vienna in summers. In short, it was all that we ever wanted or needed.

DSE is five minutes from our college. We learnt almost everything without ever gaining any knowledge. You know what I mean. Good.

Every little thing we did had a DSE injection.

POLYGAMIC MOUTH

2008-01-22T18:30:00.000+05:30

Politics: From two words.
Poly – many. Tics – blood sucking critters.

Terence – Have you seen Gemma Atkinson’s latest?
Patrick – Oh gawd! She gives voluptuous a new meaning.
Terence – I agree. Especially when she …
Baharul – (Interrupts) GUYS!
Patrick & Terence – Fuck! For fuck’s sake. What?

Baharul – What do you think about politics?
Patrick – I give a shit and my voice is echoed by millions all around.
Terence – I guess it’s in filth because of lousy people right now.
Patrick– But that is what always happens.
Terence – That’s why everything political sucks.
Baharul – All of us have crossed our teens, yet none of us have voted.
Patrick – There’s going to be no difference at all.
Baharul – If you don’t vote, then you don’t complain.
Terence – No one is complaining, we are only making an opinion.
Baharul – Opinions and complains go hand in hand.
Terence – Then go and give it a job with the same hand.
Baharul – Ass, politics is important.
Terence – So is washing my behind after losing 2 kilos.
Patrick – For fuck’s sake, stop the discussion.
Baharul – Running away from the situation is not the ideal thing.
Terence – You think discussing politics can actually change things.
Baharul – All great things happen suddenly.
Patrick - Ndtv’s office was attacked suddenly. Was that great?
Baharul – That was uncalled for. Dirty politics that. Very sad.
Terence – These political right wingers should be sex operated.
Terence – (Pauses) And also brain washed into feminist thinking.
Patrick – Maybe we’d probably have violent feminists.
Terence – Violent feminists would be so super sexy.
Patrick – Oh yes. I hope they show the violence where we want.
Terence – Lash us with leather whips with us being handcuffed.
Patrick – Ooh, the thought gives me shivers.
Terence - They would be so aggressive and assertive. Wow.
Patrick – But they would be men, realistically.
Terence – Fuck. Fuck! For fuck’s sake.
Patrick – We were talking of these right wingers. What about them?
Baharul – The foundation should be based on knowledge not emotion.
Patrick – They don’t have the knowledge to differentiate anything.
Terence – Especially, a camisole and an asshole.
Patrick – Ha-ha. Well put.
Terence – It’s ego, it drives them to the mental belief of superiority.
Patrick – I know, they think their religion is the best and abreast.
Terence – Remove religion/caste based theories and motives.
Patrick – True, then we would have a better political system.
Baharul – You are getting there but it’s not entirely about religion.
Patrick – For the record, we don’t care to get there.
Baharul – But we are the youth and we should make a difference.
Patrick – Says who?
Baharul – Bollywood.
Terence – Fuck! Fuck! For fuck’s sake!
Patrick – All this for this. End of discussion.

Patrick – Hey Terence, what about Gemma Atkinson’s …?
Terence – Yeah, sizzling ….
Patrick – Blah blah blah.
Terence – Blah blah blah.

SPRING BREAK

2008-01-18T16:13:00.001+05:30

“A long recess from the confines of the rigid college life. Activities include, but are not limited to: dancing on tables, getting laid, getting super stoned and/or dead drunk, partying, dancing, heavy drinking, pot smoking, having sex, tanning on various beaches and generally passing out. These are often done with large groups of friends who all want to party hard and have a good time, while simultaneously erasing all memories of academia (and all-night study attempts) from their lives.
Many blackmail pictures ensue from this long trip; relationships dissolve, and grades slip another notch. Some tragic consequences can result from this dangerous but important rite of passage, including your girl/boy friend finding out you cheated them with 8 other boys/girls, your parents finding out how much of an animal you really are, throwing up, getting pregnant and getting killed.”

- Urban Dictionary.

One random Wednesday morning saw Vincent and Terence discussing about the monotony in life.

Terence – I can bet you can’t imagine how bored I am.
Vincent – I can, because I’m doubly bored.
Terence – Then I’m the triple.
Vincent – Triple X, baby.
Terence – Let’s get away somewhere.
Vincent – Subhojit’s place, this weekend.
Terence – How come?
Vincent – His folks will be out of town.
Terence – All right then. I will create the banners.
Vincent – And I’ll create boners.

Terence and Vincent inform few people since it had to be a low key affair. Later-

Vincent – Yo Subho.
Subhojit – Hey man, I’m pissed with college life.
Vincent – Then unwind and relax.
Subhojit – Yes, I’m doing that this weekend.
Vincent – Oh yes. It’ll be a fantastic party.
Subhojit – What party?
Vincent – You don’t know? Aren’t you coming?
Subhojit – Which party? Where?
Vincent – Your place.
Subhojit – Whaa... t?
Vincent – Okay, I got to go. I have to plan the event.
Subhojit – Huh.

Vincent invited Baharul and Kotoky too but they blew him off as they had prior commitments. Terence asked Patrick to join and he said he would certainly join. Hitesh was coming without a doubt, make no mistake about it. So the banner was ready and we were set to roll.

Saturday morning arrived. The day when we would celebrate our special ‘Spring Break’. We had it all planned, well almost. We had the place, we had the entertainment and we knew how much food and booze were to be bought but what we didn’t know was our budget. I mean, we didn’t know if we had a budget but that was the case every time we made some shit slick plan so we had it covered.

Terence, Vincent and Hitesh were in DSE with Benu (Read ‘Bong Song’). Flirts were thrown left, right and center. None were reciprocated and that’s when we realized we were only tillable crops. Benu hung out with us for about an hour and we played some shit game which was to recognize the movie the other person was thinking of. We admit we have a horrid stack of non-inventory games in our head. Patrick arrived after Benu had left and he said he was deeply upset.

Patrick – Guys, I don’t think I will come.
Vincent – Come on now, don’t break the emotion.
Hitesh – Yeah, what’s your point?
Patrick – My notebook’s fucked. I’m upset.
Terence – Don’t worry, we’ll sort it out.
Vincent – I’ll place my top on your lap. Okay?
Patrick – Man, if only jokes made me happy right now.
Terence – All right, don’t be too hard on yourself.
Hitesh – What’s your point?
Vincent – Pat, come na. What happened?
Patrick – (breaks down)

That was when Terence, Vincent and Hitesh were absolutely silent. They had no clue what to say. Then, out of the blue, Patrick said he’d come as it’d make him feel better and boy, I bet he never had such a fantastic weekend ever. In fact, it was the best ‘college’ weekend ever.

So, we grabbed some meat at DSE and left for the metro station. The ride till Dwarka was unbearable as it took nearly 2 hours to get there and it was especially made unbearable by Hitesh’s constant farts. Now, like the ears have ear-drums or whatever, I suppose noses have some drums too or some smelling-limit. Hitesh’s farts were beyond comprehension of the normal human nose but we also thanked him since we pimped our ride till Dwarka on an empty compartment only because of his assforts (efforts).

Upon reaching the Dwarka station, we stood there like stood up bitches since Subhojit would pick us up and the faggot was late. Vincent used this opportunity to practice his seduction moves which he claimed he’d try on the strippers. Oh yes, did I forget to mention that Terence and Vincent invited some strippers from Golf Links. More on this later.

Subhojit arrived and we made a move after gulping down some exquisite vanilla ice-cream imported from Belgium. We hit Subhojit’s crib in twenty minutes and he welcomed us with an introduction to the shag mutt- Husky, who left no stone unturned to make sure he was a part of the party.

So, we were comfortable in the house. Vincent, Terence and Hitesh shared a conversation on ‘wild women’ and ‘bed ideas’ in the front lawn with cold lager. Subhojit kept watching movies that evening and Patrick was on the internet. Our professor joined in too and he prepared a fantastic mutton dish that made us smack our fingers and lash our tongues. All this was before 9 pm and after 9 was when all the insane acts followed.

We placed ourselves around the round table directly underneath one flashing bulb which made the entire scene very mono-chromatic, almost like the World War I era. Then, we smoked up in turns which liberated every soul present.

- Subhojit refused to pay the pizza guy even though he was right on time.
- Patrick consumed excess beer which made him stand on a chair singing a Queen’s track real loud, not realizing that Subhojit’s mouth had found a way into Patrick’s boxers through his denim zippers.
- Vincent thought he suddenly grew tits, therefore was playing with them.
- Hitesh kept laughing in a sadistic tone or a tune (who cares!).
- Terence had enough vodka shots to imagine that he was a slick cobra and he made snake moves on the floor without any background music which was very distasteful.
- Patrick then realized that Subhojit was munching too much therefore he stepped down and fed Husky some beer.

That was it. We were super high on potcohol- pot and alcohol. Damn, it was grander (if there is a word) than the grandest of grands.

Couple of hours later, Subhojit called it a night but we didn’t. We took the festivities to the next floor. We took our asses to the next floor where Terence, Patrick, Vincent, Vincent and Proff barred their tops and danced for two fucking hours entirely topless. We put the strippers to shame and they stormed out of the house without any performance. But we couldn’t care less, we were enjoying to the fullest and I bet, none of us shouted louder than each other. Each track we violently danced to, was the battle of the highest decibel between us.

Then suddenly, we decided to go down (not on each other!) and wake Subhojit. We ran down the stairs and woke a very scared Subhojit who was sleeping on the couch (Yes, I know what you’re thinking and yes, he had a very large couch).

Patrick, Vincent, Terence, Vincent – WAAAAAH. BOOOO.
Subhojit – What happened? Did you break anything?
Vincent – Get up, fat ass and dance with us.
Subhojit – I can’t. I have two left legs.
Patrick – Then use your middle leg.
Subhojit – I’ll use that on you tomorrow.
Patrick – Shit.
Terence, Vincent, Patrick – WAAAAH. BOOOO.
Subhojit – But why the fuck are all of you naked?
ALL – We always believed in the freedom movement.
Subhojit – I don’t have fab abs.
Vincent – But you have fat abs.
Subhojit – I will exercise.
Vincent – Just sexercise. You’ll lose weight.
Terence, Patrick, Hitesh – WAAAH. BOOOO.

This is not speculation. This is the exact conversation that took place that night.

The next morning was a lazy morning and no one had the energy to clean the bottles that were spread across the house. Terence sat on the lazyboy chair and did not move an inch till evening. Patrick, Vincent, Subhojit and Proff sat close and we watched some movies. All this while, Hitesh was upstairs enjoying cyber-sex in the sex room. He chose porn over male-bonding. Later in the afternoon, we danced to the tune of some song from some ‘bollywood’ movie and shot a video. The best part was Vincent’s sequence when he came running down the stairs playing with his imaginary tits. That video was a killer and sadly, we don’t know where it is.

Some time later, Patrick was lying on his stomach on the floor. This was too much for Subhojit to handle and then he made a plunge on Patrick. Hitesh also joined in and so did Terence. I bet Patrick must have broken his backbone, but then every time something like this happens, it is a brokeback situation. Meanwhile, Vincent was in the sex room.

Evening was fun. We had fantastic chicken cooked in champagne for brunch, which was accompanied with the best red wine from Subhojit’s backyard. Then, all of us went online together and that’s when Vincent revealed his true identity to his ‘then’ love, Sude. He took her number and spoke to her for the first time. While they spoke of intimate things, she didn’t realize that she was on the speakerphone and we were making fart sounds to break Vincent’s momentum. Vincent was brilliant in the vocal department and took several intervals to laugh. He’d dance in an ugly posture while telling her, “Oh, I’m so worried about you. You deserve better”. Hitesh tried diverting Vincent’s attention by making violent love to the closet. At times, Vincent couldn’t hide his laughter while the person on the other end wept buckets over her issues and every time, he’d make a weird laugh sound, he’d hang up and say that the network sucked. We admit that it was a very insensitive thing to do but then, we were on our spring break.

- Proff danced on the ‘Titli’ song from ‘Meenakshi’.
- Terence took a video while Patrick was taking a piss.
- Vincent licked Hitesh’s toe.
- Patrick was almost given a blowjob by Subhojit
- Terence wriggled on the floor like a cobra.
- Vincent thought he had massive tits for two days.
- Patrick suffered from a severe hallucination effect.
- Hitesh shaked his toe vigorously while playing the mouth organ.
- Terence sat on one fucking chair for hours.
- Subhojit was red-faced when everyone stood with no clothes.

We call it the ‘Gurgaon Marathon’ but it really was our Spring Break.

Damn.

DRIFT

2008-01-09T23:06:00.001+05:30

Here’s the deal. It is always a special deal to purchase your first car. The deal gets better if you get a good deal. However, the deal is far away from the television show- “Deal ya no deal”. This will make a pointless read because I’m a little high, that’s the deal.

Vincent – I need a car which stands out.
Manager- Sure, you are at the right place.
Vincent- I want it blood red.
Manager- Sir, red wine would be served with the purchase.
Vincent- I want two LCDs inside and also a mini fridge.
Manager- Consider it done, sir.
Vincent- Alloys from Brazil and leather from Denmark.
Manager- Certainly, it would be arranged.
Vincent- I would like the dashboard in diamonds.
Manager- Sir, what exquisite taste.
Vincent- Well manager, don’t comment on my taste.
Manager- Anything else with the fine vehicle sir?
Vincent- Yeah, the gear stick should be 9.5 inches.
Manager- I didn’t get you, sir.
Vincent- I should be accustomed to the handling.
Manager- Aha! I see your point. Done.
Vincent- You seem like an intelligent person.
Manager- Thank you. We are glad to do business with you.
Vincent- (gives an arrogant smile)
Manager- So sir, the total comes to $66,000 with tax.
Vincent- What! But I have only 50 bucks!!

That’s the beauty of imagination. However, that’s not what actually happened. Vincent did buy a fifth hand car which fell a little above his budget but he did purchase one. The saddest thing is that he received a ticket the very next day. Imagine, getting a ticket for a car one just purchases. Here’s what happened when he told us about it-

Vincent- Man, the system sucks. Really.
Monica- You suck.
Patrick- At least listen to him, doll.
Monica- Are you disagreeing with me?
Patrick- No no. Vincent sucks. Really.
Vincent- I got a ticket.
Baharul- Which movie?
Vincent- A violation ticket for my baby.
Baharul- You have a baby?
Vincent- I mean my car.
Terence- What happened? You got it two days ago, right?
Vincent- Yeah, I parked it near a park.
Baharul- That’s what parks are for, I thought.
Kotoky- So did he. Anyway, what happened?
Vincent- Cops took it away on several charges.
Terence- Did you get it back?
Vincent- What do you suspect?
Kotoky- Your hair seems fine, so you did get your car back.
Vincent- This coming from you, great.
Kotoky- Kela.
Vincent- Here’s my violation ticket.

(They review the ticket patiently)

Kotoky- No windows!!
Vincent- I need fresh air.
Terence- No backseats!!
Vincent- I need comfort only for myself.
Patrick- No fuel tank cap!
Vincent- I never spill (take it any which way you want).
Baharul- No gear gauge!!
Vincent- I’m a neutral person.
Patrick- No rear mirrors!
Vincent- I carry them in my pocket for myself.
Terence- Beat this asshole, no tyres!
Vincent- Told you, the system sucks.
Patrick- That explains shit. You have a tyre-less car!
Vincent- Why waste rubber when you can use round wood.
Kotoky- Fucker, you never use rubber.
Vincent- Why eat a chocolate with the wrapper on.
Baharul- Rubber? Chocolate? Wrapper?

“Some people drink from the fountain of knowledge, others just gargle it.”
- Someone.

PUSH AND PULL

2008-01-05T15:14:00.001+05:30

New Year’s Eve was a learning experience. We got together to meet our old university professor. Vincent and Terence arrived late, thinking it was fashionable to do so. Little did we know that we had passed the age of fashion and renaissance was around the corner. Baharul Islam, our eternal ‘flower power’ sensation, was as usual punctual. He swore using words like ‘fart face’ and ‘botox smiley bastards’, we laughed as usual. Anyway, don’t let me drift.

So there we were, early afternoon, with the splendid sunlight glowing along the gaps which escaped the lovely woods at some corner in DSE. Hope tangled like a spring, time wouldn’t freeze but it sure felt fantastic when we saw the combination of the smoke coming out of our cigarettes through vivid sunlight. The moment was excellent because it was an amalgamation of geography, history, culture, language, fashion and art. You will know what I’m talking about if you have also spent many useless afternoons at DSE doing absolutely ‘nothing’ (which seemed so important back then).

Like I said, our conversations range from ‘Mussolini’ to ‘Diesel’, ‘Coffee’ to ‘Flintstones’, ‘Feminism’ to ‘Pocket Billiards’, so on. You get the idea. That day was pretty significant because we were, like usual, discussing about the new Viagra in Agra.

Baharul said that he sacrificed his MBA seat last year so that he could purchase stocks of ‘Axe’ and he cried that no woman came jumping on him like the advertisements show. Vincent and Terence had complications (NON-MATERNITY RELATED).

While we kept whining about life, our professor said he’d get some tea and walked off towards the famous JP Tea stall. We insisted we’d get it but he also insisted, and you can imagine who insisted better. Anyway, our professor returned with a large pot of tea and an assortment of cups- porcelain, plastic, glass, crystal, some plain looking, some expensive, some exquisite. Then he asked us to help ourselves with some hot tea.

When the three of us had a cup of tea in hand, our professor said-

“If you noticed, all the nice looking, expensive cups were taken up, leaving behind the plain and cheap ones. While it is normal for you to want only the best for yourselves, that is the source of your problems and stress.

What all of you really wanted was the ‘tea’, not the cup, but you consciously went for the best cups and were eying each other’s cups.

Now if life is ‘tea’; then the jobs, money and position in society are the cups. They are just tools to hold and contain life, but the quality of life does not change. Sometimes, by concentrating on the cup, we fail to enjoy the ‘tea’.

Anyway, don’t think much. Enjoy the tea.”

HAPPY 2008.

Disclaimer- The ‘Tea & Cup’ example is from some source (Internet). Used only for adverse affect. However, the humour and core of this piece is fucking brilliantly original. Many thanks.

AWESOME THREESOME

2007-12-23T17:19:00.001+05:30

“It’s fantastic to visualize the amount of ignorance in education in the form of inert facts.”
- Henry B. Adams

There is something every artist should avoid, the ‘isms’.

College is a place for the ‘isms’. Be it idealism, plagiarism, sexism or activism (not too sure about the last ‘ism’). When we played ‘Superlatives’, three people emerged victorious in the ‘ism’ chalk-talk.

Subhojit Sanyal, Baharul Islam and Abhishek Mukherjee.

The three names listed above are not in order, neither in chaos.

The cure for boredom is curiosity; there is no cure for curiosity. Rightly stated because in this case, nobody is curious about the three and I suppose everyone accepts the boredom here. While the three are in contention with themselves to educate themselves further, it only helps to mention what Einstein once said-

“It’s a miracle that curiosity survives formal education.”

College is divided into three years, in some cases four. Anyway, this is just a rough memory jump through the three years at Ramjas English. Some famous words quoted by the three upon several random, useless situations.

FIRST YEAR-

Subhojit:
- Xaviers, Calcutta and Presidency, Calcutta have no match in India.
- Hey man.
- Oh, I went back to Calcutta.
- I just returned yesterday that’s why I couldn’t come day before yesterday.

Baharul:
- Hee hee hee.
- You also like Salman Khan?
- I will always have cent percent attendance.
- What! You had sex before marriage!!
- Who said that women liked flowers?
- Hee hee hee.

Abhishek:
- I worship Michael Jackson.
- I will take every professor’s ass.
- Bombay is expensive and I am stingy.
- I really worship Michael Jackson.

SECOND YEAR-

Subhojit:
- Delhi University is not bad.
- Hey woman.
- Oh, I went back to Gurgaon.
- My attendance sucks.

Baharul:
- I talk to all the ladies.
- I am very intelligent, like Ruskin Bond.
- Come on, Salman is a nice man. Just misunderstood.
- Don’t be ridiculous. Only I am ridhiculous. Only I, only I.

Abhishek:
- MJ is innocent.
- I think I should start smoking.
- Everyone is a jackass, I am the best.
- I carry arrogance on my narrow shoulders.

THIRD YEAR-

Subhojit:
- Ramjas English is the best.
- Hey Hitesh.
- Oh, I went back to DSE.
- Attendance sucks but it’s epistemologically transcendental like Sartre.
- To the uneducated, A is just three sticks.
- Hey, I am turning intellectual.

Baharul:
- I sing in front of all and I laugh at myself.
- This is getting ridhiculous.
- Salman is actually a nice person. Please try to understand.
- My goal in life? Like a career or something.
- Hey, I am also turning intellectual.

Abhishek:
- MJ for president. Our children deserve a bright future.
- Men are born ignorant, not stupid. Education makes them stupid.
- I can theoretically rape anyone.
- Hey, I am already an intellectual.

By the way, the three had a troubled love life full of indecisions, many a wrong judgement, ego, confusion between the platonic and the normal tonic, misunderstandings, malnutrition, dependence issue, loyalty circumstances, random insensitive comments, heavy confusion, morality, etc. But there was something the three shared. Something that exists and no, I am not talking about ‘Itching private balls in public’.

The three shared the magic of telepathy. In their case, it’s very sweetly and sourly called ‘Bong Tolopothy’. You could never tell when one was on the overdrive. Anyway, the best thing about the three of them in the three years of college life was that they were each other’s silent touchstone. Not many people know this, even I don’t. I’m only bull-shitting.

So, there you go. In the words of a Cranberries number, you are “Free to Decide”.

UNCHAINED MELODY

2007-12-17T11:03:00.001+05:30

Vincent- Love, they say, is blind.
Terence- Get your eyes operated then.
Vincent- She’s got me thinking about her completely.
Terence- Okay, who do you mean?
Vincent- She means the most, I have never been mean to her.
Terence- But she’s totally committed.
Vincent- Did I ever mention that I want her?
Terence- (Thinking)
Vincent- No.
Terence- So?
Vincent- My best memories are around her. Like an idea, an abstract.
Terence- She doesn’t know how you feel.
Vincent- Yeah, I wonder if she’d ever figure out.
Terence- I guess she’ll carry on without a doubt.
Vincent- Your guess is as good as mine.

Patrick- Yo, what are you two talking about?
Vincent- Your over cooked inners.
Terence- Make that medium rare.
Patrick- It’s not some fancy hamburger.
Vincent- No bitch, it’s always white like an owl’s egg.
Patrick- Okay. So owl’s produce eggs too?
Terence- No. They borrow eggs from fellow birds and pay the rent.
Patrick- How do the owls pay back?
Vincent- Well, they have night vision.
Patrick- So?
Vincent- Does it fucking matter? Who the hell cares about owls?
Patrick- They are also living beings. We should spare a thought.
Terence- Fair enough, but spare us.
Patrick- Ya ya okay. Ever got a spare in a whole bowling game?
Vincent- We always have the perfect strike. Eat that.
Patrick- Eat what? Owl eggs?
Terence- Fuck, that reminds me.
Vincent- What? Nature’s call?
Terence- Yesterday, I was hungry and made a poach egg for myself.
Patrick- Huh.
Terence- Then I thought I’d make one more.
Vincent- Were you still greedy?
Terence- Oh yes. I decided to make one more.
Patrick- Then?
Terence- Three yolks came out of the third egg!
Vincent- Fuck, that’s uncommentable.
Terence- I felt so strange. It looked really horrid.
Patrick- I know, imagine! Three yolks from one egg. Eww.
Terence- It looked like three unborn “Chicken Littles”.
Vincent- Gross but you know, (long silence) I’d have eaten it.
Terence- Well, that’s what I did.
Patrick- That’s what I would have done too.

PULP FICTION

2007-12-17T10:39:00.001+05:30

“The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness. For, he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon you."

- Ezekiel 25:17

Vincent is Vincent and Terence is Jules.
That leaves Patrick with two characters; either Marcellus or Butch. While the former was forcibly fucked, the latter killed Vincent. So let’s have Patrick to be Marcellus, minus his wife. We’ll keep the anal thrust on (just for fun). Butch will have no role here. We should also ignore the thought of the devil snatching Marcellus’s soul, which would complicate things. Thereby, the suitcase would not contain his soul but the lock combination would still be 666.

So here it goes. Baharul and Anurag decide to rob a restaurant while eating in one and among them; Anurag calls Baharul his “honey bunny”.

Baharul (to all in the restaurant) - If any of you bitches move, I’ll execute every motherfucking last one of you.

Anyway, earlier, Vincent and Terence have a discussion about ‘hash’, south of France and ‘chicken la fiesta’. That’s what we discuss in reality too.

Vincent- I’m not saying they’re the same thing, but they fall in the same ballpark.
Terence- Ain’t no fucking ballpark neither. Look, maybe your method of massage differs from mine but touching a ladies’ feet and sticking your tongue in the holiest of holies, ain’t the same ballpark, ain’t the same league, ain’t even the same fucking sport.
Vincent- You ever given a foot massage?
Terence- What you talking about? I am the foot fucking master.
Vincent- I’ve given a hundred different women, a hundred foot massages and they all meant something.
Terence- Would you ever give a guy a foot massage?
Vincent- Fuck you.
Terence- My feet are getting a little tired. I could do with a foot massage right now.
Vincent- Fuck you.

Anyway, Vincent and Terence arrive at Ved’s crib to collect Patrick’s PSP. Ved had borrowed it without an intention to return it. Upon their arrival, Ved and his roommates offer fine burgers and sprite which Terence consumes without permission. Then they talk.

Terence- What does Patrick look like?
Ved- What!
Terence- What country you from?
Ved- What! What! (Gasps)
Terence- ‘What’ is no country I ever heard of.
Ved- What!
Terence- You speak English in ‘What’?
Ved- Wha…
Terence- English, motherfucker, do you speak it?
Ved- Ye-yes-ss.
Terence- Then you know what I’m saying.
Ved- Yes!
Terence- Describe what Patrick looks like?
Ved- What! I…
Terence- Say what again. SAY WHAT AGAIN. I dare you, I double dare you motherfucker. Say what one more goddamn time.
Ved- He’s not black.
Terence- Go on.
Ved- He’s has short hair.
Terence- Does he look like a bitch?
Ved- What!
Terence- DOES HE LOOK LIKE A BITCH?
Ved- No!
Terence- Then why you try to fuck him like a bitch?
Ved- No.
Terence- Yes you did. Yes you did.

Vincent picks up the PSP and they take it along. They stop by at a nearby ‘diner’ for a quick meal. Vincent appreciates the 'Bad Motherfucker' wallet and goes to take a huge nasty smelly heavy turd-fest dump. That’s exactly when Anurag and Baharul decide to rob the restaurant. However, Terence and Vincent stop them. Don’t ask me how, ask Tarantino.

P.S- Sadly, this post will make no sense if you haven’t seen 'Pulp Fiction'. Watch it once, for the sheer joy of expressive cinema. Watch it twice to understand it. Then, watch it thrice to analyze the main points and finally watch it for the fourth time to enjoy it with full understanding.

Further P.S- Keep watching it.

ACHTUNG BABY

2007-11-20T00:42:00.000+05:30

“You’re packing a suitcase for a place none of us has been
A place that has to be believed to be seen
You could have flown away
A singing bird in an open cage
Who will only fly, only fly for freedom"

- "Walk On" by U2.

December 24th, 2017.

In some fancy hotel at suburban Delhi, Subhojit and Hitesh were busy with their baby. They were supposed to launch their respective books at the same time. Therefore, they were excited and busy with the final touches. You may ask why they were launching it at the same time, at the same hotel. The answer is simple. They worked together for 10 years and were passionately involved with one another. Are you letting your imagination loose? FYI, two people can be passionately involved with each other’s work. Maybe I mean body work. Okay, enough, don’t imagine.

Subho - Come here.
Hitesh - Please Subho, it's getting too much.
Subho - You ungrateful swine.
Hitesh - Ok, I'm here. Bark.
Subho - I'm excited with our boobs.
Hitesh - You mean books, right?
Subho - Ya ya, smartass.
Hitesh - So, you still want to hibernate from the others?
Subho - Maane?
Hitesh - You were avoiding a lot of people after college.
Subho - Oh that. I thought they were dumb.
Hitesh - What's your point?
Subho - Nothing. I wanted a break. I was tired.
Hitesh - You weren't the only one (sarcasm).
Subho - Fuck off. No wait, just turn around.
Hitesh - All right but only twice.
Subho - That's what you think.
Hitesh - What's your point?

Abhishek Mukherjee and Baharul Islam never got along after college. This was after the former developed feelings for the woman that the latter liked. It happened 10 long years ago and the woman in question is now the chief editor of the world’s largest daily. Coming back to the two, they were supposed to work together for a project called- Save The Cats. This was a move started by leading Follywood (those stuck between Bollywood language and Hollywood accent) star, Mr Salmon. Baharul’s involvement is pivotal since he was the star’s PR whereas Abhishek had to cover the story as his promotion from a JJ (Jackass Journalist) to a JJJ (Junior Jabardast Journalist) depended on it.

Abhishek - Please have a shit. I mean seat.
Baharul - Jerk.
Abhishek - So, let’s start.
Baharul – Whatever.
Abhishek – Why this campaign?
Baharul – Mujhe junglee biliya bahot pasand hai (I’m very fond of wild cats). Besides, Salmon bhai is an animal lover and cares for all living beings.
Abhishek – Is that so?
Baharul – Interview over.
Abhishek – Didn’t he shoot black bucks years ago?
Baharul – That was a one off thing.
Abhishek – What about him running over pedestrians?
Baharul – Another one off thing.
Abhishek- When he banged his car over some street people?
Baharul - Another one off thing.
Abhishek – He would pick up fights with any person?
Baharul – No private questions.
Abhishek – He is not a public person at all.
Baharul – Look who’s talking? You were an asshole in college.
Abhishek – At least, I didn’t get a bouquet of flowers.
Baharul – Y… O… U…. (He says ‘You’ in slow motion).

Baharul calls Salmon and he arrives. Upon hearing the interview content, Abhishek gets beaten black and blue. He is thrown out of the room and hears Baharul laughingly saying, “I have got my revenge”. Abhishek sheds a tear, “I have got my promotion.”

December 25th, 2017.

Anurag Kotoky picks up the newspaper on a chilly Christmas day. He laughs as he reads through the headline, “Journalist Attacked: Is The Media Safe”. He reaches for his cell phone and calls Ved to gossip about the old days. Anurag waits for Ved to answer the call and in the meanwhile listens to the song, ‘Laal Laal Honthon Pe Gori Kiska Naam Hai” (Babe, Whose Name Is On Your Scorching Red Lips) which plays as Ved’s caller tune.

Ved – Hello.
Anurag – Hello.
Ved – Who’s this?
Anurag – Oi kela.
Ved – What is it?
Anurag – What is with your caller tone?
Ved – Oh that.
Anurag – Bizzare.
Ved – Why? Aren’t lips red?
Anurag – No, they are pink.
Ved – Oh, I just wanted the colour ‘Red’.
Anurag – But why kela?
Ved – Firstly, it’s my favourite movie.
Anurag – I can’t believe that you have two reasons.
Ved – Secondly, I completed m my post graduation from JNU.
Anurag – So?
Ved – Moron. Red and JNU. Connect.
Anurag – Oh yeah. I’m such a dork.
Ved – That we are competing for.
Anurag – Shut your trap.
Ved – Go peel bananas.
Anurag – Fuck off.
Ved – Why did you call?
Anurag – Hmmm, I forgot. Shit.
Ved – You need help.
Anurag – Oi kela.
Ved – I have a headache.

First things first. Anurag was a member of parliament and Ved was a senior professor in some college at Delhi University. Both kept in touch with one another and helped each other in several cases. This one time, Anurag won an election only because Ved’s students didn’t allow other people to vote for the other candidates. Such is the power of the youth. Anurag returned the favour by introducing Ved to important doctors. That’s when Ved said, “Yippee, now my headache will be over”.

December 26th, 2017.

A bright winter morning catches the eye of an ageing philosopher. He finds himself sipping the finest blue vodka, abundantly left over, after last night’s celebrations. No one really knew what Vincent did for a living. He was turning 35 next February and had no future plans except for some heavy real assets which he used as investments. By the way, please do not let your imagination run wild with the word, ‘Real Asset’ because it would be insane when I mention that his assets were scattered across the city. Therefore, by assets, I mean buildings, land, machinery, etc. Anyway, Life was spending time in a mosh-pit for this guy, who never seemed to fulfill your imagination of a penthouse owner. Vincent recently returned to ‘Zee News’ after trying his hand at 17 different media houses. Again, please don’t let your imagination run wild with ‘trying his hand’. Specifically speaking, your first perception of Vincent would be absolutely weird but isn’t that the beauty of perception.

Somewhere else, the majestic morning sparks hope to the man who was supposed to give a lecture on ‘Pop’ at Stanford University. By ‘Pop’, mind you, I don’t mean the kind of music that you listen to. ‘Pop’ is ‘Power of Perception’, a special thought-book consisting of exactly 1976 pages. Like Vincent, no one could tell what Terence did to keep himself alive. However, things were a little clearer with Terence. He lived for his weekend football and worked for an entertainment channel based in Toronto. He had his investments in a football club and also owned ‘Perception Publications’ which encouraged young writers to write about explicit mannerisms.

Patrick soaks in the winter sun after 5 laps of the butterfly stroke. When you find yourself zooming out of this, you’d find yourself staring at his lush 5 room apartment in upscale Manhattan worth more than Britney Spear’s first album. Patrick worked as a ‘Creative Head’ for Ogilvy and Mather, New York. Like any non-residential Indian, Life seemed blessed only from the outside. He wanted a change and wanted to shift back to India but whenever he got back to his apartment, he was lured by his fantastic indoor pool and the amount of white females in it. One can only wonder why Patrick didn’t like the Big Apple. Was he actually missing home? Was he subject to sexual/anal harassment by his subordinates in the company hierarchy? Here, you can let your imagination run wild.

The story is not over.

FIELDS OF GOLD

2007-11-13T18:10:00.000+05:30

“Nothing is more necessary than the unnecessary”
- Life Is Beautiful.

A year ago, I lazily prepared a convocation speech which would be read out just before we flung our grad hats into the sky. This is how the speech was supposed to start-

"
Respected teachers, anticipated fellow graduates and precipitated juniors.

In the words of Victor Krum, ‘I don’t believe it’. It seems like yesterday when all of us were acquainted to each other. It was a time when we took time to understand what college meant. It was also a time when we were out of school uniforms, when we slowly stepped foot into the first blocks of the ‘snakes and ladders’ game called Life. Most importantly, it was a time for us to realize the ‘individual’ within us. Apart from that, it was time for college romance, heartbreaks, coffee excuses, tequila sunrises and empty wallets. It was also a time when all our professors claimed that the course wasn’t a cake walk, when all our seniors swore about the toughest course that Delhi University had to offer and how we silently promised ourselves that we’d contradict them. Now, when we are on the verge of finishing college, we still act like we’re in our freshman year.

Most of us still don’t know if we were educated the expensive way but what we know for sure is that we were educated the right way and we ought to be thankful to the people behind it. Our life tomorrow would be better only because of these people who stayed up all night to prepare a lecture only to find out that most students skipped classes for a random conversation class at some cheerful, warm place in the campus. On a more serious note, I guess we owe a lot to all of our professors who injected a sense of worldly sensibility along with the entire bookish ethos. So here’s a huge round of applause to all the teachers who have been our alarm clocks while we were sleeping throughout life.

Now, I turn my attention to my fellow mates. While I accept that we probably owe favours to each other, I cannot deny the fact that the world doesn’t owe us any favour. As we put our best foot forward towards the achievement of our personal targets, we should remember that ‘to whom much is given, much is expected’. Perception is the word that will play the artist of discontent. Everything that goes around, every topic that is debated and every technology that is upgraded: everything is a matter of perception. The world is there for the taking and it’s up to us to realize how to. The time is now and by that, I don’t mean ‘Times Now’. Jokes apart, I’d like to state one thing- While we seek our answers, let’s hope we don’t forget the question. On that note, fellow graduates, I end my speech and your sleep here.

Thank you fellow graduates. We strive to be the up keepers of the future (up yours).
You may now throw your hats high into the sky with some inspirational music in the background.

Cheers to the BBC event.”

That was the ‘supposed’ speech. Maybe I was under the influence of some of the best marijuana which Vincent smuggled from Mexico. Gracias.

Anyway, college was good.
It was a moment when everything around felt conveniently perfect. It was like we were stuck in that moment for ages.

Some coffee, couple of smokes, little money and lots of time. Life surely SEEMED settled.

SHOULDER TO SHOULDER

2007-11-13T15:31:00.002+05:30

I'm thinking of posting two incidents in this post.

(a) CVENT episode- Our first job interview which had some hilarious twists. Of course, I would add some spice so don't start yawning.

(b) Our Gurgaon Festival- About a particular party which went on for 36 hours (maybe more) non-stop. We put wild pigs to shame. It includes Vincent's 5 hour telephone call, our nude dance, the BLACK python revelation and the 'supposed' cobra dance.

Since I'm thinking so give me some time. Lets see how it turns out.

TALES FROM THE CRYPT

2007-11-04T01:15:00.002+05:30

Few months ago, we decided to apply to UNR (University of Nevada) and we almost got through, in fact we got through easily that too without the regular shit called GMAT, TOEFL, GRE, blah blah.

Patrick and Terence received call letters in their respective mails. Monica had the backing of National Geographic magazine and also had superb recommendations. Vincent had applied for scholarship under the ST quota (ST- Shameful Talker) and he secured a 100% scholarship.

View from above

(above does not mean heaven)

"Too much heaven" is a number from the Bee Gees. Anyway, let’s not divert. We made plans. We also planned to deal with racism. In other words, we would be the new whites and in some more other words, we would finally be beige.

Our statement of purpose in the application form was simple.

Patrick- Melons and ROYALTY.

Terence- Vertigo and ROYALTY.

Monica- Feminism and ROYALTY.

Vincent- Bazooka and ROYALTY.

Getchell Main Library

The picture above was supposed to the library that we'd never step into. By the way, in my three years at college, I never got a library card made except for the final year. I got it for the final year just because I wanted to know how it felt to have a library card (It felt the same as not having a damn library card).

Anyway, I then sold it off to Baharul who jumped at the thought as he could issue more books. I later realized that Salman Khan's auto-biography ("To Kill A Mocking Buck") was on the library stands.

Manzanita Lake

UNR boasts of a lake with a fountain and that’s what attracted us initially. Vincent thought he could submerge his head under the fountain and truly experience some book he read (Fountainhead).

Patrick is like a mermaid and I'm a piscean so we had no problem with water or wader (in an accent).

The Quad

The Quad was supposed to be our new BBC. To quote Vincent, "We'll smoke up there and then the whites will know what the machine is all about". Sadly, we know about the machine's misfortune before the whites did. The machine has undergone depreciation.

Anyway, we were all set. All set to bake ourselves upon that glorious Orange County, all set to play poker at Vegas, all set to wear red shorts and run along some beach at LA in slow motion, all set to pretend that we were part of the NYPD, all set to sneak into Mexico for some good marijuana, all set to bite the big apple, all set to become the new statues of liberties, all set to use a washing machine in Washington DC, all set to get a Stanford sweatshirt, all set to jump on Oprah Winfrey's couch, all set to say 'howdy pardner' in Texas.

And like they say, "We live in an age when pizza gets to your home before the police"; Vincent was denied admission because the university refused to believe that he was the same guy (er.. his admission form had him revealing his long dandruff ridden hair) when they eventually saw him.

To quote one of the UNR office staff-
"The kid seemed like a chirpy 13 year old who looked million years away from puberty".

Then, we revolted. We believed "The Royalty" should be together. We stood shouting for hours, in rain and in storm, even lit candles at the entrance gate (hoo ha ha.. ). We waited for three months and surprisingly, in those 90 days, Vincent's hair did not grow an inch.

The answer is out 'now'- NOTHING expands for Vincent, its all gossip started and spread by Vincent himself.

Like Charlie Chaplin once said, "In the end, everything is a gag".

GAS LEAK

2007-11-03T17:51:00.003+05:30

You must have heard about the 'Big Bang'- a theory which explains the origin of Earth. Well, this is not related to the 'Big Bang' theory but I used this theory for the use of one word- BANG.

First, there was a BANG.

Hitesh- Oops, I passed gas. Please hold your breath for two hours.
Girls- He he. Its normal, even we do it.
Hitesh- But are you explosive about it?
Girls- No. We are feminine.
Hitesh- Whats your point?

PREDATOR

2007-10-24T15:42:00.001+05:30

Check out the smile on Vincent’s lousy face (pre-rehab).

Patrick says that Vincent’s skin was too dry, that’s why he closed his eyes and thought of some pumpkin from Venezuela imported from Nicaragua smuggled into Guatemala. Vincent says that the tiny extra layer of skin behind his right ear is his G-spot zone. Ooh, whoever said men don’t experience orgasms.

Then, Vincent was sent to a rehab center and you can immediately see the difference in the picture below. Difference not only by the haircut but also through the way they pose (unlike the earlier picture).

P.S- Everything is a work of fiction. Please don’t get startled and please do not touch yourselves in a moment of fiery internal desire which makes you feel like an Internal Combustion Engine. Just use the bathroom and leave the samples. You never know, Vincent might just sell it off. Oh yess!

The lesser the words, the better.

Pre rehab

Post rehab

IN THE MAKING

2007-10-01T17:34:00.001+05:30

Coming really soon: LOLA THERAPY.
- If Lola Therapy doesn't make you laugh, I shall quit smoking.

Also arriving this winter: THE BUTTERFLY EFFECT.
- It includes every single person of the class of 2007. An indept analysis, risky but worth a shot. Written with full facts and detailed research. An honest punch.

Please be patient.

'All human wisdom is summed up in two words - wait and hope.'

SHOPPING FOR ANSWERS

2007-09-19T11:29:00.001+05:30

SPRING 2007

Early days, exciting days. When Life wasn’t a bitch and when spending three bucks at the university hangout was the normal pitch. Three bucks got you an iced tea; the three bucks would last for over three hours accompanied with slender conversations and gender pretensions.

College was a joint and it was nice. It was the sunshine in the winters which everyone looked forward to; it was the dash of spice in a plain chilly-chicken. It was a time when all of us were neither strong nor tough; it was a time when we were worried about the future but it never showed on our lousy faces. We were just busy being us, busy making plans, busy playing perception at our parties, busy laughing over Vincent’s explicit jokes (it goes up to 69 volumes) and busy with our very own “American Dream”.

Terence - Nevada will be nice.
Patrick - True, we can visit Las Vegas which is just 85 miles away.
Vincent - We’ll become millionaires over a single game of blackjack.
Terence - But we must visit the OC.
Patrick - It will be so nice.
Vincent - I would like to play poker at Vegas.
Terence - Asswipe, have you ever played poker?
Patrick - Vincent knows shit about poker.
Vincent - Fuckers, it’s about poking a sharp instrument at places which have never seen sunlight.

Few days later, we received our application mails from the University of Reno, Nevada (UNR) and that’s when we sang along the lines of “Sweet Home Nevada”. That day, as we sat on the lush green grass at Delhi School of Economics (DSE), we discussed about the Ivy Leagues.

Monica - You know, UNR is not an Ivy League.
Patrick - Well, it’s almost impossible for us to get into one.
Terence - We should be happy with UNR.
Monica - But an Ivy League will be excellent.
Ved - Hey mane, I think I’ve seen Poison Ivy!!
Vincent - Oh jackass!
Terence - Hahaha.
Patrick - Seriously, hahaha.
Terence – By the way, I want a Stanford sweatshirt.
Monica - Cut it out, guys.
Patrick - Sorry babeah (blushing).
Monica - See, we need to keep talking to the Ivy Leagues so that they realise our potential.
Terence - Fair enough, but I have a question.
Monica - What?
Terence - Okay, we’ll keep talking to them, but will they talk to us?

SUMMER 2007

This summer was really harsh and there’s nothing that can be said about it.

AUTUMN 2007

People refer to autumn as FALL. True. We’ve fallen into the depths of the ocean and while many wonder when they’d rise above, there are some who wonder if they’d just float, sink or swim. The funniest part is that people think 'Breach Candy' is some candy available on the beach.

Things are slowly turning normal. We hear voices that tell us not to let LIFE think it’s tougher than us and on the other hand, they say that there is a first time for everything. Vincent told me that we were suffering from our own ghosts and that only time would serve to prove us wrong.

Recently, a junior hailed us in a full college environment. What supreme feeling we went through; Vincent and Terence felt the power of Royalty. Maybe we’re lunatic enough to consider it but we’re smart enough to acknowledge it. One of our most loved professor said- “Motives fail, ideas fail, actions fail but people don’t”.

A classmate asked Terence very sarcastically, “You admire that?”; Terence replied, “No” and as he flicked his zippo (Vincent asshole) open and as he lit up a cigarette, Terence completed his sentence, “…I don’t admire that, I fucking respect that”.

Post college life is difficult, very difficult. Everyday, you feel down and beat but still somewhere you are not beaten. Like Patrick says, “The nesting period is over, now we step into the jungle where everyone is out to prove that they are better than you and where in one inch of a second, you can be left far far behind, so welcome to the jungle called LIFE.”

A month ago, some jackass told us that Patrick deceived the ROYALTY by getting into an institution while the other two did not. He added on by pathetically commenting, “What kind of a friend is he?”, and then we answered, without a single doubt in our heads-
“… The best kind”.

Anyway, as of now;
Duke Patrick is in IIMC.
Sir Vincent is in Zee News.
Lord Terence is Online.

Now as we wait for WINTER 2007, this story will continue and then, I’ll let you know when I know.

THE AIR NEAR MY FINGERS

2007-09-13T18:35:00.002+05:30

“Dude, party tomorrow night. Make yourself available. Bring shorts, it will be a little humid.”

said Patrick.

Immediately Terence gathered mental visuals of smoke and some good high spirited conversations. Nostalgia hits you when your mind races through thoughts of the glorious days that have gone by faster than a high-rise building jump. There was a time when they would fly higher than the weather and there was also a time when they would spend nights dancing on no music. But probably, the times were over and Terence suspected that he was growing old. Speaking of which, Terence recalled something that a wise-crack once wrote on the last desk during his 1st year at college-

“Growing old is mandatory; Growing up is optional”.

Just like a pilot of the storm who leaves no trace, the parties they had had been on the lines of 1976, pissing on the border or Kashmir as a barb wired state. Barb Wire reminded the boys of Pamela Anderson and she reminded them of Borat who further reminded them of the Borat conversation they'd have on multiple networking sites. Therefore, almost any brain storming session reminded them of college life. So be it, assume that college is going to be inseparable for some years.

That night, Terence faintly remembered talking to the guard at the Vasant Vihar house. The gentleman thought like we did and asked how many attractive women would be coming. Hitesh told him not to learn to fly as that was his department. Minutes later, all of them were inside the house. The party hosted 15 young individuals who had just stepped into the harsh world of insanity. It started well with people laughing on some imported dope and hunter beer. Then towards midnight, things turned funny. Terence was on the comfortable couch, watching people and collecting thoughts. He suddenly “saw” Hitesh telling someone that he had shaved off his head because his hair was blocking the intellectual thoughts that was trying to enter his skull.

Initially, it was strange for Terence and Vincent as they were sitting in a room full of people who had 'bright future' stamped on their foreheads. These were people from reputed institutions and the two were two people from broken illusions. For the record, Terence and Vincent are in a 'oh fuck' zone, not the 'fucked' situation and pray, till next year this time, if they don’t make any progress then they’d be presidents of the 'fucked' zone.

Anyway, like some jackass said- 'The show must go on'. Vincent was in full swing towards the last quarter of the party. Chatting away to glory like a baboon who needed a banana. By the way, Hitesh was still blabbering his heart out to his newly-found psychiatrist who threw up nearly 76 times. The fact of the matter is simple; Sir Vincent’s joy knew no boundaries as he started transcendental post structuralist existentialism with 9 members of the party who belonged to the female fraternity.

Patrick and Monica were arguing who’d have the next joint and Terence was in a sad state after taking a few joints because it hit, it hit. Meanwhile, Hitesh was still pouring his heart out and Vincent was still scoring points. When it rains more than ever, that’s when you’ll know who holds the umbrella for you.

This party really reminded few of us of the old times. Like Woodstock 69, guess we’ll all drift away but it will still be remembered. The Gurgaon 36 hour fest, the north campus romps, the royalty pub visits, the hallucinations and the many blah blah blehs.

THE DUKE OF HAZZARD

2007-08-26T16:00:00.001+05:30

Punjab and Haryana are different states but they share the same capital. All Saints and Apeejay are different institutions but they share the same motive- Education.

The Patrick we know is very very different from what he actually is inside his mental head. When ripped apart, he is a boy who cannot grow up, who doesn’t want to grow up and why should he. He’d prefer taking photographs rather than creating a passage down the memory lane, probably that’s why his emotional quotient could be equivalent to a lithium battery. However, the better aspect of this jackass cannot be ignored. The fact that he is a loyal friend and a caring boyfriend (like he has a choice) portrays that there is still a room of humanness in his body building. He’d feel absolutely mantastic (feel fantastic after the successful completion of a macho feat) after a good hour of his selected pint. I froze when this hard abuser broke down in front of me some months back, it confused me to the level where I did not know what to do. I really thought consoling him would be very cheesy so I lit up a cigarette with my zippo (Vincent bastard) and offered him a smoke. Within minutes, he was okay and we were abusing Paris Hilton.

Now coming to All Saints, Monica is a woman. A woman who will make you realise that you are not man enough to challenge feminism. Call it her strength or her vice, the reality is that she can break your crayons any day. Close ones relate her to a coconut which is hard on the outside and soft inside. There are people who claim she should step out of her “youniverse” (the entirety of creation that relates to one specific, narcissistic individual. Used to indicate that a particular person has knowledge only of himself or herself- their universe consists of them only) but then again, it’s a matter of perception. All I’d say is that if you wish to know Monica better, listen to Simon & Garfunkel’s “I Am A Rock”. Rest assured, I know I have respect for Gunjeet Suri aka Monica.

Now connect the two together. And voila !! You have an interesting couple.

Patrick told me this weeks back-

“You can’t go the distance
With too much resistance
I know you have doubts
But for God’s sake, don’t shut me out.

Yes I know I’m in love
But just when I ought to relax
I put my foot in my mouth
Cause I’m just avoiding the facts”

VINCENT KNOWS BEST

2007-08-26T04:45:00.003+05:30

- Is he the self proclaimed "machine" of the bazooka kingdom with a black python as his royal pet.

- Or is he that guy who once spent 85 bucks for a cold coffee for his (then) lady love despite having only 90 in his wallet, who then walked back 5 kms to get home so that he'd save 5 bucks to call his girl only to find out that she completely forgot about the cold coffee that he got for her.

I have no clue.

SWEET HOME NEVADA

2007-08-14T14:12:00.002+05:30

“Waterfalls will find you, bind you then grind you.”
- Travis

Nevada calling, that’s when we gave ourselves titles and new names. We felt we needed the change to make it convenient for us and for the people there. The days gone by seem like an era and went pretty ballistic. We knew that we knew nothing but we also knew things would fall in place. All we had to do was to figure out our next move and till then, we’d ocassionaly meet for a lager. Though no one had enough dough, we managed- we found a way and made a way.

We vented our hearts out during the royal meets, we spoke of transcendental stuff and also of worldly shit. Maybe the meets massaged our egos or maybe they helped us unwind from the daily dose of hyper tension. That's a neat combination, hyper tension with ego. We spoke about everyone and spared no juicy topic. However, most importantly, it gave us a platform to laugh at our situation and channelize the pitiless caked misery. Rivers turn to ocean and oceans tide you home, home is where your heart is but your heart had to roam.

Two thirds of the Royalty failed but then, I’d classify it as the two thirds taking a break before kicking ass sometime later. Laziness sure is a virtue for us. We summed up all of it with a meeting with some beer around and maybe that is the actual chicken soup for the teenage soul- maybe.

THE BONG SONG

2007-08-08T00:15:00.006+05:30

Okay, this is just meant for fun.

It started like this (in college campus) -

Abhishek - Oh buddy, help me! (low tone)
Baharul - Kyaa hua be? (painfully high tone)
Kotoky - Ooi kela.
Abhishek - I like embarrassing Benu, am I mad?
Patrick - No no, you are Abhishek re.
Vincent - That's an insult in itself, you see, existensia... (cut short)
Kotoky - Machine only talks, no action.
Baharul - Action 500 is good for headaches (with grin)
Ved - Not tonight darling, I got severe headache.
Vincent (to Terence) - Does Ved have a head to worry about?
Patrick - Bitches, tell me also.
Baharul - When is ‘Marigold’ going to release?
Kotoky - Baal kela!
Hitesh - Bollywood sucks, I need a fuck. A fingering.
Subhojit - Poetry, tonight I will write on your arse (kisses Hitesh).
Hitesh - Tonight also! No! We did it the entire weekend. Pleej.
Patrick - Yo bitches, tell me also.
Vincent - The machine shall speak.
Terence - Machine, hahaaha!
Patrick - Echo echo.
Baharul - I bought Salman's autobiography.
Kotoky - Ooh kela!
Subhojit - You are a banana split. Sundae special!

(Subhojit & Hitesh leave for their room for a steamy dance session)

Ved - My headache's gone.
Vincent (to Terence) - Ved can piss off.
Patrick - Tell me also.
Terence - hahaha!
Vincent - We suck so bad... No life, no love.
Abhishek - Did I hear love?
Patrick - Yess baby!
Terence - I think we can help you.
Vincent - Aisa hai, I like Benu too.
Abhishek - Okay, you can like her but I love her.
Vincent - You should come to one of our parties man. We get wild.
Abhishek- Bastard, don’t scandalize me.
Terence- Chill, so why do you like her?
Abhishek- Because I can relate to her like a bee to a flower.
Patrick- Your face can relate to my farted ass. LMAO.
Terence- Let’s not ridicule him.
Baharul - Did someone say 'ridi'cule?
Vincent - No time for your story. We are counselling Abhishek.

Patrick- Man, so where were we?
Abhishek - I don’t know about you guys, but I’m in my dreams.
Terence - Where in dreams?
Abhishek - Swiss Alps, frozen lakes, enchanting beaches.
Baharul - Oohh... Yash Chopra films?
Vincent - My bazooka to thumba on Yash Chopra!
Patrick - Echo echo.
Terence - Hahahaa.
Abhishek - Fuck off, I thought you were supposed to help me.
Patrick - So tell her the truth.
Vincent - Ohh yess, she will like to have a brotherly figure.
Terence - Now now, don’t be insensitive.
Vincent - I am sensitive, you have witnessed the sensitive python.
Patrick- It’s gross, blacker than blackest.
Vincent - You people are jealous.
Terence - Vincent's sensitivity quotient is equivalent to a pencil box!

Abhishek - Don’t break the emotion. What should I tell her?
Patrick - Tell her that she looks good, etc etc.
Terence - Yeah, compliment her. Girls like it. Don’t over do it.
Vincent - Also help her with stuff and talk to her.
Terence - And while at it, listen to what she says.
Patrick - There will be nervousness but that should help.
Abhishek - ?
Patrick - I mean your anxiety, tell her that in case you stutter!
Kotoky - Ooi kela!
Patrick - Should I peel off?
Terence - Hahaha.
Vincent - Kids.
Abhishek - Thanks for helping me, oh royalty.
Vincent - Anything for our subjects.
Abhishek - You people are numero uno.

Patrick - So do you have the guts to go upto her?
Abhishek - My feet are shaking, I think I just pissed my pants.
Terence - Just relax, take it easy.
Patrick - Take deep breaths like this... (gets an asthma attack; recovers)
Abhishek - Oh lord, love is such a headache.
Ved - Headache!!
Kotoky - Oi kela.
Abhishek - What should I do?
Terence - Just tell her what you FEEL.
Patrick - Echo echo.
Vincent - Ohh yess!

FEW HOURS LATER (at DSE) –

Abhishek - Hey Benu babe (stuttering & shivering)
Benu - Hello Abhishake.
Abhishek - I want to say what I really feel (he passes her an ice tea)
Benu - Tell me.
Abhishek - I FEEL that I will top the exams.
Benu - So?
Abhishek - So, I can help you pass because I like you.
Benu - You think I'm dumb!
Abhishek - It’s just that I have more brains. We men are more....
Benu - You faggot, I’m in women's writing. You GET LOST!

(She leaves).

FEW MINUTES LATER (at DSE) –

Vincent- What happened?
Patrick - Tell us also.
Baharul - Pyaar iqraar kiya kyaa?
Abhishek - I’m feeling sad.
Terence - Why so?
Ved – I’m having headaches again.
Patrick - Tell us, asshole.
Abhishek – Well, I had to PAY for her ice tea!!
Kotoky- Kela!

There you go. Support the boy. He still wants her.

SOCIAL WALLPAPER

2007-07-19T23:09:00.006+05:30

Upon several requests, here's an "Introduction" post.

This page is primarily about a perception of some people who have been a part of a specific college life. Read it without expecting anything, because you would not be gaining anything from it. If you fancy something then leave a comment and in case, you don't find anything amusing then feel absolutely free to add a comment. Everybody is a dumbass, don't worry.

We studied English Literature or Literature in English or whatever it's supposed to be. The bottom line is that we tried.

This weblog is a healthy amalgamation of fiction and non fiction. Some of the tales have a long solid history, some have loose geography but there is no violent pornography (unless you come across some of Vincent's absurd pictures with himself).

Characters (not in order, also not in chaos) -

Abhishek -
A 'know it all'. And acknowledged by all. Quick to snap and apparently in love every now and then. Comes up with great comebacks, sometimes. A miser.

Anurag Kotoky -
Loves to use the word, 'kela'; which means a dick. Calculated and smart, assumes his smartness a little too much. Thinks his life is too complicated. Often misunderstood. Loves sex.

Baharul -
Known for his flower power agenda after he, once, presented a huge bouquet of roses to a girl in college in broad daylight in full public. Super loud in excitement and otherwise. He also has a deep faith in history, religion and bollywood. A Salman Khan lover. I repeat, a Salman Khan lover.

Hitesh -
A boy who likes to keep a low profile. He comes across as very serious and focussed until you know him better. In love with one of his classmates but apprehensive. He has one question to any reaction, "What's your point?"; and this he says while making a very very funny face.

Subhojit -
Reads a lot. He could be Kindle's representative. A Marxist who loves consuming soft drinks made by multi-national companies. A 'little' on the heavier side therefore loves to physically intimidate people. Holds a special bond with Hitesh.

Ved Prakash -
A very hard working individual. But you'd wonder where the individuality lies. Honest and sincere, however, you know.

THE ROYALTY (as the four below call themselves) -

'Sir' Vincent -
Refers to himself as 'The machine' for a plain reason; calls his private part a 'bazooka'. He can talk and has no competition. Pretends to like reading books so that he could impress the women and score big time. But, he is one who only reveals his outer side, there's much more to him than his never ending stories. He lies a lot and smokes up more. Very thin and talks like he just defeated the entire world in an arm wrestling game.

'Dutchess' Monica -
A feminist who is bent on making the world a better place to live in. She believes in equality and has a rebelious streak which is misunderstood for other things. She may be a snob, but she has a heart and a soft corner for close friends. Free spirited and liberated, she shares a love relationship with Patrick. She likes women too.

'Duke' Patrick -
The toy boy of the 2007 class. Drummer, national level swimmer and twice, beer pong champion. The ladies dig him but he's taken. Petrified of Monica and always tries to avoid a fight with her. Finds almost everything funny and does not hesitate to make any comment (with thought or otherwise). A secret poet.

'Lord' Terence -
Good for nothing. Observes people and makes perceptions. Talks less, and only when he wants to or is spoken to. Close friends think he talks too much, strangers think otherwise. Has an ego problem but the ego is always in contest with his head and heart.

That is it.

Like Vincent once said, "I suck better" after comparing himself to a vacumn cleaner.

P.S- With great power comes, great responsibility.