A HAIR AFFAIR

Hello My dear Readers...In fact its a long hiatus since my last post and I haD to check my followers list to see if it has dwindled , bUt thank God they are as patient with me as the Met department s with the Monsoons..

There I aM on a sunny and sultRy Sunday mornIng in the barbers shop or A 'Saloon' as my Mom woulD term it.Sitting on the rickety metal benches all eaten Up with rust and colored with the stains of countless Misdirected Paan spitteRs, I begin to Drift off. The weather and the old fan stirring Up the humid aor lulled me into a sort of semi dazed sleep..well aware of my surroundings but having lost all semblance of time...I began to wonder....

Wasn't it fun...wasn't the whole Go-to-the-barber-and-transforM-youRself-from-escaped-convIct-to-a-Decent individUal look by your Mom enough to make you shiver at the prospect of the barber shop..You whine and procrastinate.You make all sorts of excuses ranging from an important assignment to a feigned illness.You look at her with all the innocence your mischief writ face can muster and you plead and futilely try to wriggle out of the situation.But sadly its of no use. Your Mother wont care if you have an appointment with God himself.The judgement is pronounced and the money that is unceremoniously thrust into your hands feels like a death sentence in your pocket. Often you have to be chaperoned to ensure that you indeed honour your Mom's biding and that not walk away scot free. Boy!!! how you hated Mom for turning so cruel that day! With one last parting quip-Mom!! do you want to see me die at the Barbers shop?? heavens know for I may cut myself on the careless scissors and I may bleed to death with my entrails hanging out and turn your head melodramatically.Yet even these histrionics fail and she is unmoved...Damn! you think(Of course you never knew the word damn then...you kicked at a stone or you crushed an innocent bug in the process)

And with a heavy heart and your foot in your mouth you perch yourself upon the next chair and look in horror as the 'Demon barber' (as I used to imagine him when I was a kid) chooses to cut off your precious locks of hair..and that too with an air of utter disdain. A hearty laugh and a blood smeared mouth(read Paan stains) along with the grime covered barber would make this sight a nightmare for an. And then you would be that ill fated kid and you detect that twinkle in his eye.His malicious grin as he sharpens his blade...you swear you see remnants of a kids ear hanging off it..SNIP SNIP SNIP and as your tears slide down your cheeks wisps of black curly hair float around and at the end all your squirming and protesting apart you look like a civilised member of the society.

As I grew up I could learn to tolerate the visit to the barber's(A time when I could actually claim that I had a head full of hair) The wait seemed endless and after reading the paper placed for bored customers almost a dozen times and listening to the barber ramble on and on about the weather, the local news, who's daughter was seen with whom...(mostly discussed)..and heaven forbid if the guy is a cricket aficionado for he will not allow you to be seated till you have expressed your opinion of the recent cricket victory...and then he proclaims Everybody in this country is a bloody analyst...(I roll my eyes but do it discreetly lest I wont be able to be get my hair cut today).And finally you get to ascend the throne. The throne so religiously handled by the barber..A careful swipe or two and he invites you to be seated ...You are thankful that you are lucky to have gotten your chance so quickly and you choose to turn a blind eye to the state of the chair, or the nail protruding out threatening to sever your hind quarters. And then there is the state of the creams and

But that day as i dozed off I could still remember the rickety tin boards and the wooden planks that doubled up as bat (when needed)The screaming toddlers sitting precariously on that plank as they got tortured by the barber who would be playing the dual role of a pacifier and a butcher..The reeking smell of Old spice that is a smell I remember and love till today.And then the very location of the shop housed under in many cases an old banyan tree doubling up as the mirror stand is a delight that is often a missed sight nowadays with AC cabins that are the manifestations of the liberalized world. The long forgotten corrugated cabins that would be doddering on small wooden stilts are a bygone era. The whole enclosure would be just enough for a person to sit that too having the sensation of almost falling off and the barber to stand behind him plying his trade.

And then there was the lethal looking razor with the swishing blade ...almost a remnant of horror movies gone sour.and yet the nice sugary fragrance of old spice hanging around the blade and the way the barber deftly smothers that old shred of newspaper with the thick white foam and that too the paper clinging on for dear life is a sight that fascinates me till today.It is a timeless sight, an affirmation of the fact that there may be a paradigm shift in the society, in technology, in the world...but the simple beauty will never cease to fascinate a romantic..:). All the while the motor mouth barber would be recounting the numerous local tales, often amusing , often lulling you to sleep. And after he finished with you and proceeded to attend to the dusting up, you suppress a smile..after all you have to applaud the guy who transformed your haggardly wetherbeaten look to something decent so that next door aunties cant complain of lack of neglect on your mom's part.

Today the braber is no longer the pot bellied information disseminator-cum-local gossip all in one..He is more suave, more morose conforming to strict and efficient gestures that ensures a steady stream of customers...he is more of an automaton than the individual artist who treated each customer as a new canvas on which he was to practise his art albeit in new colors.Gone is the local rusty cabin and has been replaced with swanky air conditioned shops.It is spic and span...almost too sterile for my liking.

And as I continue my comparisons its already my turn to cut my scanty hair(as mentioned by someone.. :P) and I can hear the phone starting to ring..HOME calling..mom wantsto know whats taking me so long?? Well what can I say?? Mundane stuff like a visit to the barbers shop unlocks a bit of nostalgia..Coming MOM...have to rush....Bye ..Ill be back soon..:)

WHEN THE RAIN STARTS TO FALL

How many times have we stopped ourselves from attempting something just for the fear of failure…how many times have we chosen just to play safe while the bigger risks stared at us in the face, how many times have we shirked away from something just because it did not go well the last time you ventured to experience it…how many times did we turn away that helping hand in the doubt that I something goes wrong you would be all alone….

These are some o the tough questions that life throws at you time and again, a bad card here…a speed breaker there.. and suddenly you have been coasting along and your confidence starts to wane…no doubt even the best of intentions of others around you…your brain goes into overdrive thinking WHY ME…did I do something to deserve it…did I do anything wrong…and you keep thinking and churning it in your mind so much that it threatens to cloud your vision. You stop listening to your heart and start to give in to the pessimism that lurks in your mind. All for that one little speed breaker. A speed breaker so small in the scheme of things that in hindsight when you think about it you would chuckle thinking….damn in the scheme of things its just a rounding error.

Maybe you wont realize it but you choose to hurt the person whom cares for you the most. You choose to push away the helping hand that has always been over you in times of need. Call it self destructive mechanism of the human mind, or just fear…it sure is a scary time..

Of course life is overwhelming…the odds against you sometimes stack up too high..repeating the amous lnes of the poem..when you want to smile but you have to sigh…when care is pressing you down a bit..rest if you must but don’t you quit. Quitters never win and winners never quit…too hackneyed you would say and roll your eyes but hey that’s the mantra to get ahead. That’s the mantra to beat the odds.

When life seems too overwhelming ..when you just want to get away from it all….think about all the good times you have with your friends , with the person you love…s life that punishing that you would want to give up all that…the summer afternoons spent fooling around with friends, fighting over a single biscuit, a stroll on the road with the wind gently blowing past as you walk hand in hand with your loved one with the music o birds in your ears, the night outs with friends watching a movie on one laptop, the all night phone call with the annoying battery down alarm ringing in your ears…is the problem worth so much that you would wish to crowd out these experiences with it.

Contemplate your decisions and follow your heart because one fine day you wake up to find the problem has vanished , and so have the ones that have been with you all this while…do you really want that ??Sometimes the people around you may not understand you, sometimes that hurts a great deal that they don’t understand, rather it’s the other way round.They know the problem and simply choose not to give too much attention to it.because it is not the problem that matters..you do.

Always remember Life will always be a roller coaster ride fraught with risks at every turn at every nook and cranny of the journey…in fact the very act of living is to risk dying..to love is to risk hating…to make friends is to risk being alone….but imagine what would you rather be …a person with problems and good people by your side or simply a person with a problem…its your life make it large…J

And to all my readers who have been waiting or my blogs…am back and the next blog crooked tie is about all the bloopers made by people in the vivas and in placement interviews …watch out folks …all your bloopers laid bare..:)

A FEW GOOD MEN

Do you know of any guys who clicks a photo of himself in a striped lungi standing beside a station board on a station named CHENGALPATTU??

Do you know of any guys who travels five hours back home just so that he can gorge on KFC chicken brought for him all the way from Bangalore , and then click pics of him enjoying the chicken and mail it to you??

Do you know of a guy who parks his behind on the sofa and stares at a cricket match all day,dissects it ball by ball , listens to the pre and post match analysis simultaneously holding a Heat transfer book in one hand and solving all the problems in the shortest possible time.

Do you know of a guy who when he gets angry throws a whole packet of snacks on you and then treats you at the canteen in the evening??

Well if you don’t….i am not surprised….because all the above crazy,lunatic guys are friends of mine.Friends made at Burla.A non descript town tucked away in the hills, yet home to such cool bunch of weirdos.

Ok I am no Jeffery Archer, so I wont bother to organize all the memories into a streamlined chronological account..I will borrow from here..add from there and then mix in a bit of my exaggerated humour to tell you a tale of four friends….Let me first start off with Prateek’s account of Lohit

Myself, Anjan ,Debashis and Chinu were doing something or laughing at someone's expense when he appeared.In all black, Agile T-shirt(That he claims was dark green once) and a three quarter pant(some ghoulish grey colored).He stood at the door like one of those beady eyed street urchins,waiting for someone to respond.I don't remember who, but one of us beckoned him inside.With those sick glasses and even more sickening smile he had me prejudiced over his nature.But the moment he opened his mouth, we knew he was one of us, the bird with the right feathers, one of the flock,From that day on, he stayed.Room -56 was his home.His roomamte would come to tell him ,"Good night" and would disappear before the words reached us.(he was another enigma altogether)He would play cards with us all day long, and in the night all 5 of us would sleep in 56.

Prateek still says that when he opened his mouth we knew he was one of us…but I distinctly remember Lohit sitting like a mute spectator as me and Prateek would ramble on and on about our past lives,about the quality of the mess food,the Girls(Lohit took no part in this discussion),about the vile language that the seniors would choose to shower us with(of course me and Prateek became masters of the language as the year progressed) And Lohit would just sit there and listen.I always used to wander..who was this guy?? Where did he suddenly land from?? When you think of it Lohit was never supposed to be there.He was an oddity, a rounding error in the scheme of perfectly ordered rooms that housed only three boarders.A guy from Manufacturing, was all I knew after two days of sitting beside him…he would pull up a chair and sit on it and listen to the conversation.Why he ventured out of his wing to come to us?? Why he left the sanctuary of his branch mates is a maystery to me…But at the end of the day I am mighty glad that he did.And I thought…heck he is a silent guy…not my types.

Yes, the guy Lohit Biswal…who would travel five hours just to feast on KFC chicken and then click photos of it and send it to me…Boy did he know the meaning of the word Schadenfreude..I felt like killing him with a corkscrew.

Standing in the middle of the wing in his purple colored shirt(a sight that would guarantee to give one sore eyes), a tall guy with a haircut that resembled a Herrings nest holding a Yellow bucket with the name Prateek Chand emblazoned on it like a coat-of-arms. Oh! The very sight made my blood simmer as I wished I could push him off the ledge.Bloody stuck up guy, I thought ..Ok ill try to avoid him the duration he stays in my wing.Stuck up guy…not my types.

The geek shall inherit the earth…Bill Gates had once proudly proclaimed. And I guess this guy Debashis just took a liking to that saying.You will die of asphyxia if his book collection manages to land on you.You may debate endlessly with him on the nuances of cricket, and a quiet smile to follow…a quiet studious guy who had zero fun ….i thought..studious guy, silent demeanor….not my types.

I still remember that dash of Yellow Reebok, the cross legged position he sat in, refusing to leave the confines of his room.That smile and the big round glasses that had NERD written all over it, coupled with his Oriya that would make you die laughing..I was just curious to find out who this guy is …the guy whom everybody said had a twin sister in our college..and I thought BIG NERD….not my types

But FATE they say has a unique way of getting to you, FATE has its own plans and regardless of your well laid out charted course, it will always find a place to stick its foot in and tweak the whole course of your life forever.

Three years later as I sit writing this blog I laugh at my own superflousness,my lack of knowledge of people and the 4 rascals who are reading this right now.Never has it felt better to be proved wrong..

The NOT MY TYPES guys went on to become the best friends that any guy could ask for…

Prateek and me recorded a music video together, the one that got him selected to be the AVC Cr in the first year.He almost broke my nose in a mock sparring event in the first year common room.The only guy who stood with me as I defended my decision to go to class.The guy to have made us the first Robotics team in team Burnout.As we worked endlessly the whole night, in his room something gelled, a spring fell into place, a lever was touched…and things sort of started to take shape…The robot worked ok that day , but what really worked out is that four guys had somehow bonded…Me Prateek , debashis and Lohit.

Well Lohit and Prateek were characters in contrast…Lohit was the slow and composed type , while Prateek was more impulsive.Prateek is flashy , but Lohit is a bit laidback….but holds them together is not only a mystery to me but to every single sane individual.

Well coming back to Debashis…they say if Harsha Bhogle would be reborn he would be reborn as Debashis…very astute, slow and steady and the glue that held the group in place…and the glue that held Prateek in place…yes this nonchalant lazy genius had that wonderful ability of being an advisor to Prateek when he needed it…and financer to me…when I needed it….:P .Peel past the layers of the quiet cricket and book lover and you would see the fun…the witty wordplay that characterize our group sessions..the keen observation and the endless legpulling that he starts when either me or Lohit are talking on the phone…people say that he had a heart of gold…24 hours before the Maths exam and he would be conducting maths classes for 15 odd people and yet still top the next day.They say he never wrestled with Mathematic…he sort of conjured Mathe”magic”. But one memory stands out..a cold dreary night just befor e the first engineering maths exam and me,Lohit and chinu were huddled by his side struggling with the Laplace equations…I read with him the whole night and I got probably one of the few ‘O’ grades that would ever grace my marksheet.

And he too shared an unusual chemistry with Lohit…the first one amongst us to tease Lohit, the first one to call him LoBlo and the guy with who he would sit and study for hours during an exam..

But the best was Prateek and Deba chemistry…both of them were so apart you would say their friendship was like that of chalk and cheese…Well what can I say somebody moved the cheese..and threw away the chalk…and they are friends ever since..Prateek relies on Deba to bail him out of trouble the night before the exams and Deba likes Prateek for his frankness and coolness..

And then this guy came into the picture…remember the big nerd I told you about…a guy from Mumbai..Nishan Gantayat…the guy grew from strength to strength be In the academic department,the looks department or in the love department..now this guy has it all…but one of the best memories of him is that winning answer in the inter hostel quiz in first year…just when we had lost hope of winning …he shot out the answer from my right…where does the Mithi river flow???....Mumbai he answered and the guy from Mumbai had announced his arrival into the realms of Quizzing..he went on to open a quiz blog with me, went on to become a photographer who clicked pics of critical acclaim,shed his big fat nerd image and turned cool by the end of second year ….

But he still was the same old idiot….confessed his love when he was drunk…drunk his way into near oblivion on Holi and seven hours later recounted us with his Christopher Nolan like experience.. still struggles with the coomon Oriya words..writes poems on coffee mugs for his love…took his dieting spree too far and ended up looking like a Jewish ghetto escapee…and if someone goes to close to him even for a handshake he reels back unconsciously…maybe the result of Prateek hitting him below the belt on a number of occasions…me and Lohit tease him about that on a number if occasions..And the best part is that behind all the idioticness is a semblance of balance..

The guy is a mentor to me when it comes to matters concerning life and love….hidden talent I say…beginners luck he counters..but hey he fell in love after confessing it when he was dead drunk..beginners luck indeed..and the idiot till today teases me the most about my love life too..

And the guy he lives with Mr Biswal..Loblo or HOBO…Homeless Boy as coined by Prateek never slept in his room till the day he joined college…in first year he was in room 56…we played cards all night long and talked in between..and after that LoBlo used to park his bottom on Dilips chair and sit in their room for hours.Well the guy sometimes I feel is off his rocker…He would be studying in silence and suddenly be prone to mad attacks of Hollywood albums and I have to kick him into place..and then there were his deadpan jokes that made us roll over and laugh our brains out..He and Prateek would recount us with the crazy things they both did in Bhubaneswar and in the trip to Pondicherry and I would be laughing there on the floor..

And then some memories still linger till today…hey HOBO , Prateek remember how we went to Burla on a open Auto standing on a bunch of pots with our heads down for fear of getting ragged..

Remember that big mutton fight??

Remember the first bot that looked like a Mars rover??

Remember Debashis frantically pacing the corridors on the India Sri Lanka final..

Remember Lohits Alif Laila shirt? The bleu formal one..

Remember how Lohit got plastered in every viva he tried to bluff

Remember Nishan’s usage of the word KAHUNA

Remember his fascination with Monica Geller from FRIENDS and is obsession with Deepika Padukone

Remember that night on the train when Prateek hollered out to an uncle…UNCLE DON’T YOU KNOW MANNERS??

Remember the beggar incident on the train where the beggar tried to give his money to Prateek

Remember how Debashis cut himself up badly before the vivas?? Looking like one of the guys who had just walked off the sets of Evil dead 2??

Remember Remember the 5^th ,6^th and 7^th of Ocotober??

I still remember those haunting strains of the music video…I walk a lonely road…and my shadow walks besides me……….

But when I walk along the road I see 4 shadows behind me and I don’t need to turn for I already know that the 4 rascals will be the ones behind…

ADIOS AMIGOS..

LACHRYMOSE LACHRYMARKS

It’s funny how exams affect us hostellites in ways unimaginable. For people living at home the seriousness of the exam time is imposed upon them with parents breathing down their neck reminding them of the seriousness of that A , and the possible ramifications of having a good career with the help of that A. It’s hard to imagine that such a innocuous looking letter can be of such importance. For hostellites the exam time is a frantic rush to cram as much as possible,sacrificing a good night’s sleep,consuming ungodly amounts of coffee and grappling with mind boggling amounts of photocopied paper,mostly done at the thirteenth hour.Come exam time and there is a queue of boys in front of the girls hostel,the supplicants waiting in tense anticipation for that notebook from the girl who has taken immense pains to maintain her notes all year round.And as the girl proudly dishes out her notebook replete with pencil and colourful margin notes she even dishes out some free advice about what to study and what not to.Mother Teresa would have been so proud of her she feels.

All year round the very same girl would be the victim of caustic remarks from the boys who have labeled her as a teacher’s pet and roll their eyes whenever she chooses to answer a question in class.But come exam time,she would be the savior,the good Samaritan who chooses to lend her painstaking efforts to the work shirkers.And the boys happy with an easy way out,religiously study from the notes and manage respectable grades and satiate their parent’s marks lust.The girls get better grades and the guys manage something of lesser envy and everyones happy.

But scratch the surface and the rust is exposed.Few people pay attention to the real reason why a girl producing a same answer on her answer sheet is entitled to more marks than a boy.Of course such a subtle difference may escape the average boy, so I am not offended at the poor attention span of my male readers and thus choose to enlighten them at the blatant discrimination that goes on in the marking system. After nearly four semesters of careful scrutiny and analysis coupled with insights from various male eye witnesses I finally came to the conclusion that most of the marks that are bestowed upon the Venusians come from an unusual and subtle coercion method that plays on the very human psyche.Although they sometimes choose various methods like producing the same answer in active as well as passive voice ,they rely on a tried and tested technique handed down from generations.Girls choose to exploit a very fundamental flaw in the mind set of a guy…All they do for a few extra marks is….. CRY.

Yes,no man in history has acquired considerable success in consoling or pacifying a crying girl when things are not going her way.The male brain simply runs out of ideas when the eyes of a girl brim over.Of course the lachrymal coercion used in college is a touch different,but the results are the same.And this time tested technique never fails them.Be it a wizened and grizzled professor or a fresh young teacher just fresh from college,all of them fall for the same ploy.At first when there is a huge crowd in the teacher’s cabin the habitual criers stand idly by patiently biding for their time to go in for the kill.And just when the teacher is in a state of utter frustration they home in to the target.At first they try for the cajoling strategy,when that fails they once again repeat the cajoling and now the sniffing adds to the cajoling.Almost akin to the delay of a time bomb sounding out its warning before the final blast.And then when the teacher is absolutely adamant that he wont even think of giving extra marks,the girl bursts into tears. Tears that flow fast and thick smudging the answer sheet and the report papers of the teacher which has been meticulously arranged.Seeing no way out the teacher is forced to scribble a few more marks on her answer sheet.

You would think…end of story..objective achieved.But NO,the girl seeing that the teacher has taken the bait wishes to dupe him hook, line and sinker.She is still on the teachers side pleading for more.This time she spins up a cock and bull story about how she had taken ill the night before the exam and how a few extra marks would really augment her career prospects.To add to the story she paints a sordid picture of how she had religiously studied the concerned teacher’s notes fully trusting him but the exam question paper begged to differ.If the teacher has’nt fallen for the ploy till now,this frontal assault on his ego does not go unnoticed.His inflated ego takes a beating when he hears this statement.And the knight in shining armor swings into action.

Finally the teacher wishing to salvage his reputation and with a flourish adds a few more marks and signs off with a flourish finally placating the sobbing girl.Now there “Are you happy”?, he asks and the girl who has so far been hell bent on flooding the room with her tears suddenly ceases her lachrymose assault and gushes in happiness.”Thank You”…You are the best..she utters and runs out of the room in sheer ecstasy.For a moment the teacher swells up a bit for having placated a crying girl before he returns to his mundane world of exam papers.
And the girl who is now bragging about her stellar performance in the exam to her friends and nonchalantly mentioning her inflated marks to all and sundry,mentally makes a checklist to improve upon her performance next time that would warrant even more free marks.She silently sends up a prayer thanking God for making fall prey so gullible to the charms of women.And she also is thankful of the fact that most of her teachers in the college are male.

Thus careful observation has given me an idea on how to get a few more marks too.Next time ill come equipped with a glycerine bottle to the teachers room and cry my heart out, just hoping that a crying guy would be as torturous to the teacher as it were for a crying girl.For I too wish to exploit the teachers basic flaw….his FEAR OF THE TEAR. So next time you see a girl brandishing her near perfect marks..be sure it was just TEAR FACTOR that helped her.And as I mentioned earlier she is no more the Mother Teresa ..rather she is just “ANOTHER TEARESA”

LOO-NACY

Hostel life is never replete without stories of your hand-to-mouth existence , your shenanigans after a belly full of alcohol,the late night card games,the gnawing hunger pangs just when you sit down for studying,the all night phone call..and the list goes on.We go through the formative years at the hostel mostly cribbing about the quality of the food(rather the lack of it),discussing arguing and killing your friends(figurative never literally) over divided loyalties on your favorite cricketers.And at the end you shed that proverbial tear reminiscing about the memories.

But the subject you never acknowledge,never in front of family and friends for the fear of being looked down upon as scum.The subject you never mention in polite tete-a-tete with those nosy aunties and uncles who badger you about your hostel life , who want to glean as much information about your college for their daughter who is just starting college.And you don’t even raise the hint of this subject for the fear of turning away the pretty young thing and opting for somewhere else.The subject you would never raise when dining in your hostel mess for the fear of getting not only murderous stares but also a flurry of kicks to go with it.The subject that makes you shudder even after passing out from your alma mater.

The condition of the hostel “LOO”..those loo-natic days where your whole morning life was governed by your skill in getting in and out of the loo in the right time and turning a blind eye to the surroundings.As a hostellite myself let me give you a sneak peek at the hostel loo,the inside story of what engineers go through day in day out.Leave aside the idiosyncratic teachers,the maddening labs,the frustrating assignments,the pesky girlfriend(frustratingly pesky),the real trial that an engineer goes through is really a tragic experience.

Imagine waking up in your hostel room on a fine sunny morning,rudely awakened mainly due to the horrendous smell that is planning a systematic assault on your olfactory senses.Your brain is in overdrive and your lungs are screaming for clean air and is readying up for shutdown.Half of the insect kingdom of your room is squirming on the floor having suffocated by the repulsive odour.You remember your history lessons and think that Hitlers gas genocides were a cakewalk in comparision.You wake up shocked and choking, spewing out the most colorful of all the choicest adjectives you have picked up in hostel life, all directed on your roommate. Frantically searching for the nearest ventilation site you somehow manage to open the window.Heaving a sigh of relief as you turn to castigate your roommate for his foul deed.Suddenly your tummy grumbles akin to the starting of a malfunctioned tractor engine and then lets loose a swift yet deadly stream of gas.One that unfortunately you have little control over.And then you realize you were the culprit all along.

And thus starts the morning,on a perfect note with you desperately rummaging through the shelf searching for the soap that you had borrowed from your next door neighbor especially in case of emergencies like this.All sense of decency flies out of the window as you wrap yourself in something that resembles a towel,Tarzan would have been ashamed at your Spartan dressing habits.And you reach just in time to find the last toilet door closing in your face.It is at these moments in life when you wished that your dad was Bill gates and he built a separate bathroom just for you complete with golden bathroom fittings and automatic rear wipe.Just as you feel ready to let loose the remains of your last night’s ingested dinner,suddenly a door opens and you get a free toilet.Thanking the person who just left just as you get ready to get cosy,what greets your eyes is so repugnant it makes me want to vomit even as I write about it.

Sitting in the shiny white pan is a …….am at a loss of words so let me give you an analogy to better describe the scene.First there is the base of the cake of a mild yellowish tinge.Due to lack of general cleanliness or due to the unavailability of water the next guy preferred to add one more layer to the cake,albeit this layer having a nice sepia tint to it.And the third guy preferred to add the icing on the cake with his own small brownish-yellowish contribution.This sight in any other situation would have given you a mild heart stroke.But owing to the severity of the situation,you turn a blind eye to the situation and you become a new member to the cake makers club.

Finally relieved after your visit to the toilet as you approach the sink, your eyes are treated to a sight that makes sore eyes.Floating in the basin next to you is the vomit remains of some guy after too much of booze.There in the basin as the odour starts to choke you, you can make out the small chicken pieces swimming around with the little tomato strands giving it company.Once again the lack of time (you are already late for class)keeps you from passing out on the bathroom floor.Reluctantly you brush your teeth periodically gagging on the toothpaste when you think about the condition of the basin.And somehow you manage to finish your morning ablutions and get ready for a bath when to your dismay, there is not even a drop of running water.

As you resort to drawing out water from the tank, you peek inside to find that the water has turned into a formidable greenish hue and you are absolutely sure that the insect life has bred in these waters and have started mutating into larger crustaceans. You are so used to turning a blind eye to all these stuff that after a few days you wouldn’t even bat an eyelid if you were given nuclear contaminated water to bathe in. Finally you manage to reach class, all smelling of roses,thanks to the perfume your mom gave you on your birthday(God bless her for always giving you the right stuff).And thus creating an illusion of having a great H2O adventure in the bathroom.And as you pass out from college and someday you sit back wondering how fun college life was,you suddenly chance on your memories of loo misadventures and you thank your lucky stars that you wont have to go through such a torture again.

To all those people who have locked away these loo-se memories I am sure after reading this you will once again turn LOO-NATIC.

MAKE ME A CHILD AGAIN.. JUST FOR TONIGHT

When was the last time you looked at a puddle and thought of jumping in??? When was the last time you looked at a scrumptious cake and wanted to lick off the icing?? When was the last time you had a piece of chalk in your hand and you ended up throwing it on a friend?? When was the last time you blew bubbles inside a soft drink bottle??? When was the last time you swung with gay abandon on a park swing?? When was the last time you laughed along watching a cartoon flick??? When was the last time you went to a restaurant and played around with the plates and forks??When was the last time you chased your friend around a corridor??these questions may be disconcerting for you..you may choose to dismiss them masquerading as someone hard pressed for time..but the questions strike a chord with you somewhere deep down.

Growing up sure has been a wonderful experience…You have always wanted to get your first drivers lincense..your first allowance…your first drink…your first kiss..you get to do things that have previously out of your reach…now you can do things condoned as a no-no during your childhood years….sure you can drive around town on a bike or blaze the roads in your car…but don’t you just love the memories of you riding piggyback on your father’s shoulder,and going for a ride on his scooter sitting on the front seat??

You cant wait to grow up..you swim through the halycon waters of school life…you get into college..and the jet paced life sure takes a toll on us and we crave instant recreation…Bashing up bad guys or shooting their heads off is fun..wait now its considered cool by the college crowd who swear that Counter strike is the in thing…and if you make the mistake of asking what the hell that is…..you are looked down upon as some sort of disgusting caveman…..well don’t you miss those days of just lazing around in the shady haunts and plucking mangoes in your neighbours backyard?? Don’t you remember those days when doing nothing was such a great pastime?? Why ……the game of circle cricket was so engrossing that you would play till the cricket ball looked like yesterdays pancake from the kitchen.Don’t you miss those times when you used to trade cricket cards with friends secrectly under the desk?? Ever remember the craze for the newly released video games….remember how the game duck hunt used to make you smile????

Conformity was never a thing that had parlance among us when we are kids…today it is sworn by.If you have to eat a dessert outside it has to be in the swankiest of places..if you craved coffee it had to be in no less than a CCD…anywhere else and your peers would make you a laughing stock…….do you remember those summer days when those ice filled tubes were your fancy?? You just didn’t care that it was from a roadside vendor…don’t you miss those running -nose -kid days……days when you panted and huffed as you downed golgappas at the road side vendor not caring of years of unwashed neglect of the vendors cart.And do you still miss those days when on a rainy day you used to brave the rains for a hot cup of tea and sweet cake at the nearby rickety tin shop.??

Today you drool over fancy and slick bikes…anything else than that is deemed primitive….well remember those days when racing down the road with your weather beaten cycle challenging your friends was the ultimate adrenaline rush….you didn’t care about your cycle , you didn’t care what clothes you had on…you didn’t care whether they were streaked with mud…all you cared for was to really have fun…..

You may grow up and spread your wings…you may revel in your independence…but don’t you miss those days when you sneaked back into your house because you had missed your 6 pm deadline and didn’t want to face your father’s ire??You can make tons of money and splurge on it …but don’t you miss those days when you dawdled around the kitchen waiting for the opportune moment to ask mom for a tenner so that you could satiate your sweet tooth..and the moment had to be just right…otherwise mom’s purse strings were sealed shut.

Do you miss those days?? ..the wonder years….Sure you do …even I miss them too ..and sometimes at night I ask God-Make me a child again just for tonight…for we may grow up ..we may grow taller…we may smile less and frown more…but inside deep down ..we still are that small child whose life is still governed by fairy tales..

Mars vs. Venus at College

Hello all my college going readers...of course specifying the college going word is too much of a show off since most of my readers are of my college.....and i force it down their throats to read my blogs...sometimes threaten ,sometimes cajole...sometimes bribe them....well what can i say every blogger craves some attention and praise.

And since in my past few blogs I have done a vast amount of research on the MARS VS VENUS issue...let me give you an offhand account of a funny mental process that goes on in guys minds when conversing with their girlfriends....of course i have to mention a disclaimer first ...that all this part fiction and part psychology(the way i see it) and in no way is it related to me....just some of my observations...

VENUE:-COLLEGE CANTEEN

Guy breezes in with the swagger that is proof of his familiarity with the premises...slides a tenner across the table and requests the best and most secluded table for his girlfriend...and then begins his hapless wait with a constant eye on his phone....checking for any messages that may give him the slightest inkling when his princess might turn up....he orders a soft drink and nurses it for so long that after a while it begins to taste like sugar mixed in urine....(sorry for the groce description..but seriously mountain dew kept in the open for long tastes like that)

Switch to GIRL..:- Busy chatting with the teacher concerned who has already dismissed the class but is held up by the countless ...relentless ...but absolute sense LESS questions....and of course the constant bombardment of questions by the girl ...and all revolve about one theme....exam grades...the teacher may fall off the building or get strung up from a power line for all she cares.....and the teacher absolutely frustrated with the questions finally assures her that he will bestow her with the best grades available.....feminine charm scores again ....Girl smiles ...after all the new perfume did the work.....she gathers up her notes and paraphernelia and stuffs it into her survival kit....yes survival kit...everything from make up to water bottles...some extra make up and a absolute necessity for girls...no not chocolates...face wash....she once again checks her reflection in the glass of the notice board....believe me thats why girls spend atleast 10 minutes more than a guy in front of the notice board....And then she proceeds in the most slowest of gait to the canteen..careful not to walk too fast and spoiling her creases on her newly ironed dress....and careful to walk away from open spaces lest her perfumes fragrance gets lost in the dust and grime of the college.

Switch to GUY:- has counted how many plates of maggi have been ordered by all other patrons...has read, re- read and memorised the menu and the prices...and calculated the percentage breakdown of each dish and calculated the average cost of the total food items...calculated the investments and estimated the turnover of the canteen...and is in the mental process of preparing a financial data sheet for the canteen .....of course in the meanwhile he has ogled at all the girls present there....and stared at all of them hoping for a glance and smile in his direction ..and after countless failed attempts...has returned grudgingly to a mind numbing task of the canteen financial records....and just then....his girlfriend walks in....WOW is all the guy manages...his impeccable vocabulary fails him...his dashing and suave persona which charms other girls says goodbye to him...and there he is standing like an idiot grinning like a fool ...and wide eyed admiring the beauty of his girlfriend.

GIRL:-The moment she walks in she starts about the weather,the heat,the shabbiness of the canteen,the unwashed plates,the stench, according to her nothing is right in the college canteen...and then she starts about the shabbiness of the guy...alludes to his 4 day old stubble..

GUY:- Yeah but i am growing a beard...inspired by Johnny Depp ..and besides a beard is a sign of erudition....a sign of a leader...a true people's man.....

GIRL:- Nonsense!!!! you look like an unwashed fool...cut it today she shrieks....

GUY:- Yeah OK(And then he thinks...shit!!! there goes my cool look...man i so wanted to look like Che Guevera this time)and then the guy sheepishly tries to plead for an extension by one month .....

GIRL:- When I say today ...I MEAN TODAY.....(By now people from different tables are staring at him....and he sinks three inches into his chair...)

GUY:-(THINKS)...how i wish dinosaurs were still alive..and one could eat me up right now..so that i can be spared the ignominy of this beard debate.

Ok Ok Ok ill cut it positively..i swear on the graves of my dead ancestors that i will be clean shaven in the next 24 hours.

GIRL:-Good...and get rid off the Tshirt ....looks horrendous..

GUY:-Hey but this is my favorite Linkin Park Tshirt....and Mike Shinoda is my favorite

GIRL:-He looks like a moron ...and you look like a bigger moron..

GUY:-(THINKS)...how i wish a dinosaur would eat her up too...

BUT!!!!!! he pleads...

GIRL(THINKS...Oh no touchy subject...favorite band...favorite singer....force wont work now...resort to SOB tactics)...and then she justs sniffs...dabs her eyes...her lips bend slightly down and her eyes just brim with the hint of tears.....Won't You do it for me?? Won't you listen to my request..

GUY:-Hey hey hey...Yeah ill burn the Tshirt now if you want..besides i intend to donate it to my room mate...don't worry this is the last time i wear it..and he thinks...(there goes my favorite tee....should have listened to mom when she told me that it looks awful)....so now the Guy tries to salvage some of the conversation that has till now been mostly BOYFRIEND BASHING.....So how was your day??...he asks innocently....unaware of the barrage gates that were waiting to open..

GIRL:-Where do i start?? Today i woke up late....and you never even called me ...and then i had to wait in line for ten minutes in the bathroom.(GUY thinks...as if i want to spend my early tranquil morning hour trying to wake you up.).. I could'nt find my clothes bucket....i could only find two of my three buckets...(GUY thinks.........WHAAAAAAAAAT!!!! You have three individual buckets....our whole wing of 18 people has three buckets..)..I had decided to shampoo my hair...but could'nt find my hair conditioner and hair lotion and i had run out of face wash (GUY thinks....and all i need in the morning is a bar of soap...hell i even still don't know with whose brush i had brushed my teeth today)and then there was sandwich for breakfast...well you know how i hate sandwiches...(GUY thinks sarcastically....yeah you hate sandwiches...as if you got croissants and french bread every day at home)And then you know how the auto driver tried to cheat us...he charged us three rupees...THREE RUPEES can you believe it ?? DAYLIGHT ROBBERY...she thumps her hand on the table and the last dregs of the cold drink that the guy had ordered before....spills on to his lap....Girl still unmindful of her boyfriends plight goes on about how she was robbed off her three rupees...(GUY thinks...oh so when i had to pay three hundred on our last date...that too when you ate almost all of the order...that was not robbery.)

GIRL is still going on jabbering non stop ...when the guy's cell begins to vibrate...his roomamte has messaged him the score of todays ongoing match...."Dude where are you??? Sachin and Sehwag are going hammer and tongs at the bowling"....the message reads...and you message him back....dude my girlfriend is going hammer and tongs at me.....to which a reply comes back...so sad!!!! and yes i ate your biscuit packets ....we had no pop corn...and besides the batting is explosive today.....

GUY thinks sarcastically....WOW my lucky day....

GIRL ...who pauses to catch her breath suddenly notices the guy is silent....and she thinks...he is silent...he really must be having a difficult time ...bad grades and no money now..besides he was mentioning he had fever last night..

GUY is thinking...good thing she turned silent...MAN!!!! Sehwag must have recovered after that injury...hope he does not try to square cut uppishly today...he got out in the same fashion ...last match

GIRL is thinking...i hope he is feeling well...now he is furrowing his brow...must be really painful for him coming to class after his fever...

GUY furrowing his brow and typing furiously under the table....ok dude whats the score now...and praying that neither of the sachin sehwag duo has fallen....and then comes a reply...dude hurry...you are going to miss the match of a lifetime.

Guy looks at the canteen counter and sees a knife on it...and he seriously thinks of killing her...then he hits upon a plan...he fishes out his mobile from under the table and now looks real tense...yeah mom he screams into his phone..

Instantly the girl stiffens at the sound of the word of MOM...GUY smiles...good..and he just walks out of earshot...he comes back and tells her a cock and bull story about some relative of his ending up in the hospital.

The girl is all mellow and reaches her hand out to console him.....but the guy is already at the counter ...GUY thinks...Ok your feminine charm wont work now..

GIRL:- I am so sorry...hope he gets well soon..please go...ill go back to the hostel...you please make haste and reach the hospital..

GUY thinks...yeah you are sorry.....you will be so sorry if any one of the wickets has fallen..

GUY desperately pays the bill as the girl leaves..KEEP the change he hollers.....and is gone in the blink of an eye....the canteen guy is smiling...i need more customers like this he thinks....

GUY reaches his hostel.....first switches off his phone...then writes on his calender..."never to go on a date during cricket season"..and reaches the TV room just in time....

GUYS ROOMMATE....wow you made it...so what did you tell her??

GUY:-Who cares??..so did Sehwag show his pyrotechnics today...the question is left hanging as the hostel crowd erupts as Sehwag hits another six.

So readers sometimes the feminine charm does tend to overwhelm us martians ...but at the end of the day..its our minds that keep us in our place...for martians think with their heads and venusians with their hearts...

Cheerio folks.

THE BURLA BARISTA

WARNING READERS...if u don't like this blog...then please feel free to blame one of my nerdy friends ..NAMRATA..who has vested upon me the title of BLOGBABA ...just to taunt me for sitting on one blog for almost 2 months...well Nerd Nemo here goes.......

The sickeningly sweet aromas flirting with your olfactory senses....the cheerful banter and raucous laughter emanating from nowhere.....the clink of unwashed tea glasses....and the nauseating stench of nicotine wafting towards the heavens...the ambiance is truly exotic....

Welcome to the badlands of Burla...and welcome to the nerve centre of college life...BULU TEA INC....the swanky glazed tin shop loaded with all kinds of goodies to endear to the college crowd..an 8 seater barista with open roof seating and personalised valet service with debit and credit system...customised greeting as one walks in and supersonic delivery....what more could a college kid want??? And at the helm of it all the managing director... Mr.Bulu Sahoo and vice president of operations, logistics,supply chain,marketing,sales and finance all rolled into one...Mr. Munna...and both are likely to make it to the cover of TIMES magazine...BULU...TEA BARON and Munna..youngest VP......ok i think i should pull back to reality now....

First let me give you a peek into the wardrobe of the patrons here and you will come crashing back to reality...

...seriously Armani , Gucci , Raymonds would shed a fortune just to get a fix into the eclectic and vibrant dress..

An unwashed tee shirt covered with stains from not only the mess(God bless the food), from the roadside dhaba, from the Gupchup stalls, unwashed lipstick stains on the Tshirt(Dont ask me how it got there), and from our very own dingy workshop...and of course half of the t shirt would be tearing at the seams after years of unwashed neglect....shorts that resemble the tattered and torn clothes from the tsunami survivors...and of course unkempt hair and a grizzled beard..again alluding to the unwashed state its patrons are in most of the times...

And then coming to the debit and credit system that is a lifeline for cash strapped kids like me..Bulu bhai as he is fondly known as maintains a dog eared register with most of his patrons names inscribed in scrawny handwriting.And a cursory glance at this register would make you gape in awe..his daily transactions make you wonder in amazement...heck this guy has more sales than an upmarket coffee joint.And Bulu bhai has an amazing memory about the financial transactions of his regular patrons..and even if he forgets he just fills in an average amount that just about equal to the daily spending habits of us guys.

Most of his sales are cigarette and pudia sales but when he has patrons like me who gulp down 15 cups of tea and 5 biscuits and 2 packets of mixture and 1 glass of Jaljira to gulp it down...That register contains the accounts of all its patrons that have visited him since the day he set shop at burla....and mark my words that his register will go down in the Burla hall of fame when VSSUT celebrates its diamond jubilee....:)

But what really endears Bulu bhai to the college crowd is the ambiance of the shop....here you dont need to worry about your dressing sense..you dont need to worry about your appearance ..(although you may look like you just walked out of a coal mine and then assaulted by aliens).. it does not matter whether you got a bad grade or had a fight with your girlfriend (it requires around 3 cigarettes to cheer up ...it does'nt matter whether you have cash in your wallet or you have the appetite for anything...it's a great place to unwind...the jokes about the faculty, the unrelenting leg pulling of the committed guys,the discussion about the latest tantrums thrown by the girls of your branch(never ending tantrums mind you... :P) one cup of tea,one puff of that gold flake,a pinch of pudia from a friend is enough to set your mood right

And the best thing about the place is that you dont need to have cash on your person to visit the place....sometimes you can just go and hang out there and ask for a sip of the tea...a drag of a cigarette and a pinch of that pudia...or just snatch way two biscuits from your buddies while they are having one....barring the cigarette and pudia asking i have done all the above...it feels great when you have absolutely no cash but still walk away after your "borrowed -without-permission" meal ...once i remember Nitesh dropped a biscuit packet by mistake and i had to battle it out with my canine friends to retrieve the biscuit packet.I was pulling at the packet and the dog wouldnt even budge...i had to resort to a solid kick before i could claim the spoils of glory.

And for most of us at Burla life wouldnt start in the morning without the morning cuppa...walking on the road bleary eyed at 7 am in the morning...perching precariously on the flimsy wooden bench and ordering...well sometimes you just dont need to order...your morning starter...whether a tea or cigarette is ready...thanks to Bulu bhai who knows all his patrons whims and fancies by heart...further what endears Bulu to the VSSUT crowd is that Bulu bhai is a gregarious guy who always has an anecdote up his sleeve..mostly about our faculty and students....the committed guys are the worst hit with special songs and jokes dedicated on their behalf...of course half of the stories are laced with so much melodrama and tall stories that the patrons wonder whether half of it ever happened....

But the best part of Bulu bhai's location that its bang in the middle of the road...and the long bench that its patrons frequent has an excellent view of the people plying on the roads...correction its not people...i meant an excellent view of our college girls(no pun intended)....it doesnt matter whether the girl is a senior or junior...whether the guy himself is a junior or senior...the comments flow thick and fast through that air...some of the times its been a genuine compliment to the girl...although the compliment gets dissolved in the flurry of comments that follow...and all through these years i've been observing the faces of the girls...mostly its apprehension...mostly disgust...sometimes a sly smile...sometimes a malicious glance...but hell whenever there is an incident involving a girl and a comment i am the one who inadvertently gets dragged into the affair...and i have never opened my mouth while sitting there...i was too busy enjoying the delicacies there...
But i have been guilty of admiring the view ...that i confess too....yet again no pun intended.. :P

And as i dash off to class after a hurried morning tea cup that too with my bowels groaning under the pressure of last night's food......as i amble down for an evening cup...walk back dejected after a horrible exam performance....sometimes walk arms akimbo after a successful fest..or just hang out with friends....

At the end of the day ....it does'nt matter whether the tea tastes good...or the biscuit is damp...what matters is the times i have spent there.....after one year ill be packing my bags and heading off to some distant land...but the memories will still linger ...like the smoke rings that engulf Bulus' in the evening.The raucous laughter and merry banter will forever hang in the air for years to come....for years to come...whenever i would wake up in the mornings...i would still feel someone tugging at my sleeve dragging me to Bulu...thats the magic of the place..the magic of Burla Barista.

Happy Summer Holidays folks..............

A LOT CAN HAPPEN OVER A CUP OF COFFEE

Cafe Coffee day came out with this tagline that begs a question...coffee is in itself a drink that takes so much precision and dexterity to make that a slight mistake on the part of the person making coffee renders the taste completely like the gutter water that runs outside my hostel...so the tagline should be changed to ...A LOT GOES INTO MAKING COFEE...so thats why they chrge such exorbiant rates..because as a corporte house they have mastered the art of making a product that has been the bastion of housewives since long...they took a drink that intellectuals like to brood over and made it popular among the young and the restless.

Anyways my blog is about the coffee misadventures of three idiots who came with a grand idea of studying before the exam night with stomachs full of coffee...so its 8 o clock in the night and our group study session comprised of 'Nitesh' 'Paresh' and me...we had grand plans of completing the mountain loads of course material in front of us...we were all gung ho about studying the whole night and we started off religiouslyit was like 10 minutes of deathly silence....and then my ever hungry friend Nitesh had an idea which ruined the whole night...

LETS MAKE SOME COFFEE...caffeine is good for night studies quips Paresh and recounts his twelfth class tales about how he used to study long hours nursing just one cup of coffee... i cut him short and send him scouting for coffee,amul and sugar...and thus begins a long winded hunt that reminds me of the film i saw recently...NATIONAL TREASURE...first i go knocking on every door of my wing mates who sympathize with my plight and suggest me someone who may have some left over coffee with him...then i go knocking on that someone's door and he suggests someone else...and someone else and someone else...and finally as i am on the verge of tears my own room mate Anurag has a pack with him....of course he is a coffee aficionado and he is the only genuine person i know who can stay awake and study after a cup

...And then i return to find Paresh and Nitesh too holding up amul and sugar as if they had come back from the city of El Dorado with treasure....and by that time it was already dinner time so we decided to scrap our coffee plans till after dinner...

Time 11 00 pm:- We still haven't gone past the preface page of the book...but we were lost in the delusion that coffee would make us read like crazy. And then we start the long winded process...First there is an argument about who should clean the kettle and fill it up with water...that took us around 20 minutes and finally i had to fill it up thanks to the senti story that Nitesh cooked up that he hadnt studied a page and i had atleast some idea about the subject..I grudgingly accepted..And then all sorts of silly details took up our time ...the right temperature...the amount of amul...the amount of sugar...i favoured lots of sugar.. :P and then finally after all my silly deductions ...i gave the best insight of the night...i advised Nitesh not to pour coffee directly from the packet into the steaming kettle..it would cause the coffee inside the packet to melt into a glob(my previous experience )and i had to remove the coffee from the packet using my tongue...:)

And my idiotic friends congratulated me on this insight...and i was all floating in my cotton candy world dreaming about how i would be an engineering consultant someday dishing out smart insights like these when one question by Nitesh and Paresh brought me crashing back to reality.....have you brought any glasses for the coffee...??

of course i can't tell you ...and the words they used against me then...lets censor it folks...beep ...beep...beep...beep...and once again i have to venture outside in search of glasses...i again go on banging all those someones doors but have to return empty handed..and am subject to malignant stares of my friends....by that time the coffee had cooled down and had to be heated again..and this time it was really emanating a heavenly fragrance...it cooled all of us down and then the thick headed Nitesh struck upon an idea that forever changed the coffee drinking scenario in West hostel...he took a one litre bottle and cut it in half using a pen knife...and we decided to mark our brilliant idea by clicking pictures of the improvised glass and posting it on facebook...even facebook users were amazed at the creativity...or some people were groced out of the idea of drinking coffee in plastic...

And the book was lying at the side of the bed demanding our attention, but we were all stuck up in our own caffeine induced world...and whilst we were enjoying our coffee...i dished out some of my own coffee trivia telling my friends about the KOPI LUWAK coffee beans that are extracted from the excreta of the asian plam civet...and once again i am greeted with a host of swear words ...beep...beep...beep...beep..and a flurry of kicks..

And even after our last dregs of coffee had disappeared... we were no where near to studying...caffeine had induced a high in us and we were reminiscing about our school days...and a cursory glance at our watch...its 2 30 in the night...DAMN THE COFFEE i say and sit down to study....paresh is teetering on the edge of sleep...and soon we all follow suit...coffee made us sleep even more than normal...Nitesh was snoring his head off...

And what happened in the following morning in the exam hall is fit for another blog...HORENDOUS would be an understatement....and i discovered that perhaps we three were the only idiots in the world who fell asleep after a jug full of coffee...yes people i had around 1 litre of it.

So to all my readers...one word of advice whenever you get that idea about group study and coffee...just remember my blog ..and stay away from Nitesh and Paresh...i dont know what they mixed in the coffee that day... :P

HAPPY HOLIDAYS FOLKS AND HAPPY NEW YEAR IN ADVANCE