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

EXPRESSIONS

What do you do when your faith in yourself is questioned? What do you do when at one moment you are flying and the next you feel as if you are spiralling out of control? What do you do when you are faced with two extremely difficult choices and making one choice would forever change the face of things to come?? How does it feel when your inner turmoil has led you to the brink of despondency?? whom do you trust ?? whom do you suspect? How does it feel to have your sleep assailed with doubts that threaten to pull into a never ending limbo of confusion??

It is never easy to stare forward into the abyss and yet look back at the deep sea...making a choice that would throw your life into a whirlwind. How do you feel when someone else's mistake is condoned as yours.How do you feel when you ruminate over what has happened and wring your hands in despair?

The pain is excruciating.How do you feel when something silly gets into something serious?? who do you turn to ?? what do you turn into?? Do you question your own convictions?? Do you rant and rave and make anger as a catharsis to your pain?? Do you retreat into a cocoon of your own?? Do you live in a self created mode of self denial and behave as if everything is alright??how do you feel when your own mind is the scene of the crime???

How do you feel when your head is full of these questions all clamoring for an answer??

People may see your happy and cheerful facade and think you are the picture of equanimity...but seldom they realise that you are facing hell.Your cheerfullness may be mistaken for nonchalance ...for aloofness...for being self centred....for being unattached and unemotional...

It feels so lonely when people think that you are untouched by suffering and do not warrant a second glance..Your facade may be ice cool but the embers are simmering underneath and it needs very little to be stoked into a fire. And you cant open up just for the fear of unknowingly offending somebody. Jokes made at you may be rib tickling for the audience and you may dish out a wry smile but actually it was gut wrenching for you. A combination of ice and nice people say when they talk about you...they know you will forgive them for the mistakes they committed on you...they stick that label and blatantly go ahead without a thought.

They know that being your friend has absolved them of all their crimes on you. What do you do then??

And I beleive there is only one thing that can be done..once you have your head and heart in your right place and faith in your own decision...you dont worry about trifles. If you believe in something..if you are committed to a cause...if you have taken a decision you know is right then stick to your conviction...life will always deal out a bad card...life will always be a sinusoid...All you have to do is take a firm step..One that does not endanger your relations with people around you and also is in tandem with your belief.

It is this semblance that is required when you are treading on eggshells.....never be afraid to confront..you will be afraid for a few minutes..but choose not to run away ..you will be afraid your whole life...

Of course it will take some time...your past mistakes may take time to heal the festering wounds...you may be distanced from those you deem close ...but that would be momentary.Never hurt the person whom you believe will walk with you through hell and back. That person deserves that much support from you atleast.Change your self a wee bit, let go of that obstinacy, be a little more considerate and you find things simply falling into place.You may have been accused of mistakes that you never caused, but by doing whats right you will get that chance to redeem yourself.

When Alexander was asked about his conquests he simply replied ..."I don't make right decisions,I take a decision and make it right"...this guy ruled the world. If you can follow in his footsteps I am sure you would too...

HAPPY HOLIDAYS FOLKS

"CHIT"TY "CHEAT"Y BANG BANG

Truly a classic of Ian Fleming...The Chitty Chitty bang bang flying car was that held childhood

fantasies world wide..the concept of the flying car apppealed to the young formative minds....it came as an exhilarating mental googly that a ground based automobile could suddenly take to the sky.....IAN FLEMING taught our budding minds to question conventional wisdom and question the very system that propagates conformity....of course he had some thing else in mind....

And today, a brief glance into the hostel life of mine would reveal just how the idea has germinated and given rise to a whole new genre of cheating....a cheating system that relies heavily on mordern technology....a sight that would have made HG Wells cry in delight, A sight that would put the Interactive classrrom company EDUCOMP out of business , a sight that would spawn a whole new area of data communication and network sharing...of course in todays corporate world there had to be an euphemism for the so called debased act of cheating(hey this word is not mine , its the lamentations of all those snooty front bench nerdy kids)...i choose to call it TECHNICAL COLLABARATION....a sharing of ideas...a confluence of minds....a discussion of facts...ok i am going over the top now..:)

A cursory glance at any random room would be enough to satisfy the average nagging parent that studies are in progress and the midnight oil being burnt up in gallons....(God save OPEC)...but look a little closer and you see whats actually going on...one of my branch mates who does not wish to be named ...lets call him roll no. 168 uses his scrawny handwriting to the best possible use....the night before the exams, he first religiously writes out the chits and then proceeds to practise from them before the exams..well of course he first studies around three modules and then writes out chits of the last module....a great strategy(according to him)...and it has never failed him yet...the astonishing fact about the chits are that voluminous amounts of data....and when i say voluminous .....i am not joking....roll number 168 can squeeze in around 50 marks worth of answers and diagrams on a single palm size chit. a smart guy with a smart idea...exactly my type.

Roll over roll no. 168, for your room mate steals your thunder....this roly poly guy ...lets call him Mr. Coal land Das really is an adroit TECHNICAL COLLABARATOR when it comes to cheating.Mr Coal land Das has an innocent-as-a-newborn appearance coupled with a deadly eyesight(beleive me when i say deadly .. i mean deadly...he can glance at an answer sheet three desks away and still scribble on his own sheet without taking his eyes off the other guys answer sheet)..

He uses a double combination of chits(well endowed chits...50 marks on each) all hidden in god knows where parts of his body(a huge elephantine physique sometimes has its advantages you know) and in almost unreachable parts of his wardrobe(no never inside his underwear... :)) and Mobile camera pictures of the portions of our course of study.

And once i heard Mr Coal land Das had to eat his chit when a teacher came too close to comfort of discovering his shenanigans....how did it taste ?? I asked him later...and he replied that ...the taste was good but left a bitter after taste of ink....Ha! the hungry rascal......:)

And in case of circumstantial contingencies I am there to bail him out with my messages...Hey recharge my message pack this week Mr. Coal land Das..that sms pack is for sending sweet nothings to someone special...not to idiots like you...:)

And these are all the exploits of our batch....but when it comes to our successive generation, they really define the use of technology in cheating....lets call our second year group from WEST HOSTEL ...Len,Ash,Sas,King,Dev,Bhaku etc etc....they spend sleepless nights before the exams typing out the long answers on Microsoft Notepad and transferring it to the mobile phones for exam reference. and there is a thin guy called...ok let me call him Dip...name changed ...he uses a 5 mega pixel camera to first snap the answers and then compresses them and sends them to his mobile. Hats off to this cheeky rascal for yet another new innovation in the realm of cheating.

The whole night I am assailed with the cacophonous chime of message tones implying the transfer of long answers from one mobile to another.

And these are just some of the uses of technology in our everyday exam lives...but mostly my friend Mr. Coal land Das, roll 168 and another guy ...lets call him Dr. Death have a tried and tested method that marked a new era in cheating...this method changed the rules of cheating forever....MICRO XEROX....it is a scientific marvel that a book the size of my pillow could be squeezed into a chit the size of my wallet(empty wallet of course)...and we engineering people were the first to use this novel system of Xeroxing to the best possible use.

But at the end of the day when it comes to cheating....you dont have to be tech savvy and all...all you should have is the visage of a veteran chess player...the nonchalance should be deceiving....it should baffle even the best of a invigilator.Your heart may be thudding like the pistons of a bike..but it should not show on your face.and when you are copying from your chit your brain should be razor sharp of any external threats....believe me copying from a chit in the exam is the best possible mental and cardiac exercise.....

But the most shocking fact is that this kind of use of technology in exams has solely been a male bastion...Girls so far have never exploited the use of different techniques in the exams...truly a dampener for all those girls who will be engineers in future.....i know after reading this article my female fan following would be wringing their hands in despair...shocked at the lack of moral integrity and self esteem(really heavy words that have so far eluded my understanding) of us guys...but they would be silently envious of our ways...sorry girls...these kind of activities are only for veterans....there is no space for newbies

And as our semester exam draws to a close and my juniors and batch mates are busy tearing up their chits and getting ready for the next holidays....I am sitting here regaling to the outside world our exploits...a tale that would be handed down for generations to come...they will have evolved newer and more daredevil ways of getting round the system ..but they would be marvelling at the sang froid shown by their ancestors....

SPECIAL THANKS TO ROLL 168 and MR COAL LAND DAS FOR LENDING ME THEIR CHITS FOR DISPLAYING IT ON MY BLOG.....

Well at the end come to think of it ...after all surprisingly CHEATING is an anagram of the word TEACHING........happy holidays folks.

THE INTER BRANCH CHALLENGERS TROPHY

TRRRRINNNGGGGG...... the alarm clock goes off in your room ...akin to the cannons of Tipu Sultan and you are the subject of the most vile cuss words from your room mates who have been rudely awakened by your singing alarm clock...that too on a Sunday morning...finally you manage to smash your clock on the ground and breathe easy as the dying tones of it still linger in the morning calm....

And then you wonder...Why in the hell did I set my alarm for 6 am on a lazy sunday morning...probably i have to do some reading....And you awake with a start...READING??? wow i really must have turned a new leaf in the night...my parents will be so proud that I have become a wee bit responsible......and then your bubble coated dreams are pricked by a small pin of doubt....

Slowly the raucous sounds from a far away field quietly flirt with your auditory senses...AND THEN IT HITS YOU LIKE A SLEDGEHAMMER...Damn i forgot...its cricket season...and the most important match of our batch is just about to commence...

Yes folks it was cricket season..bang in the middle of the Mid sems we had our first taste of the cricket season with North Hostel winning the Inter Hostel...but what was to follow...is truly a an affirment of the fact that the Indian psyche is drunk on a heady cocktail of cricket...It is in the ingrained psyche of every indian guy to be a part of this gentlemans game...whether its the game play or the armchair theory or while discussing the nuances of the game ...the insatiable lust to be a part of the game is the true Indian stereotype.

The Inter branch challengers trophy was the brain child of MANISH SINGH,who had shown the cricketing fraternity a glimpse of his exceptional organisational capability by organising the Inter Hostel tournament within the holidays in the middle of our much dreaded mid sems.And all it took was Manish around 20 minutes to decide the match schedules and captains..Kudos Manish for your quick thinking...i love a guy who takes on- the- spur decisions..of not being a conformist....and not falling prey to the detractors who did not want the match to materialise..

Some glimpses of the tournament....

Sweaty palms....anxious moments...breathtaking catches....awe inspiring shots...nail biting finishes...frantic runs...tense moments...inflated egos....heated exchanges....friendly banter....crowd frenzy....bacchanalian revelry....crushing defeats...inspiring camaraderie...ecstatic winners...graceful losers...

You just had to be there to experience this gamut of emotions that were the highlight of the challengers trophy. The whole third year batch had converged on the East eden grounds..to witness the spectacle...The whole atmosphere was electric ..the tension was palpable and comments were never ending...

The wristy flicks of Bijay,the flamboyance of Shashank, the lower order slog from Pankaj,the mighty heave of Jagdish,the solid defence of JP,the crafty bowling of Sudarshan,the captaincy of Srimant,the wily deliveries of Shantanu,the batting of Digvijay had the crowd in a frenzy at the initial stages of the tournament...but they were knocked out in the forth coming matches....and it was the mother of all cricket battles in the final a mouth watering clash....the untested CIVIL side versus the favorites...ELECTRICAL..

And the Civil lot played their hearts out to register a shock win over the veteran Electrical boys...thanks to some steadfast partnerships in the middle order...and both the captains were epitomes of calm...SUSHIL AND ANUBHAV...one had skill...the other had guts...one had brawn...the other brain...one was leading with confident spirits ...the other countered with tempered aggression...more of a mind game than on the field....One had all the experience to back him up and the other had grown as a captain as the series progressed.....One was playing for pride ...the other was playing to conform the paradigm that DAVID TRIUMPHED OVER GOLIATH everytime...One relied on technique...the other on his common sense.. One was high on the hopes for a win and the other was out draw blood ...truly an eulogic account of the two captains who deserved to be in the finals..and they made their presence felt all the time.

Hats off to Anubhav for leading his side to a win and well played to Sushil for his sporting spirit..

Cricket is such a paradox ...sometimes it needs the collective effort of the whole team ...sometimes the efforts a single player,who steals the show...a fact that individual players in both the finalist teams were testament to...PARESH from Electrical or PP as we all know him and KAILASH from Civil...

To be dropped in the Inter hostel matches, of being labelled as out of form...came as a rude shock to them and were smarting on the sidelines...and then they found a chance...

It was as if the floodgates were opened...the ignominy of sitting out showed in the way they hit all kinds of bowlers with the ultimate disdain....for loquacious guys(ask their section girls) they simply let the bat do the talking...and after a win , after a milestone...the way they raised the bat to the air ....was a gesture to the detractors...IN YOUR FACE...

T

The similarities were endless yet the opposites were interesting...Both were cheeky charmers with their boyish good looks(once again ask their section girls),both of them were bowlers who could bat and batsmen who could bowl and both of them made it look as if cricket came naturally to them....And yet one favored the offside the other pulled to the leg...One used his natural height to get on top of the ball...the other took advantage of his low centre of gravity to use the backfoot judiciously....One was frantic...the other was impatient...One was a firm believer of the swashbuckling style of play...the other content with old school technique...One was comfortable in the deep outfield...the other was a close-in catcher

And both got what they deserved in the end..KAILASH..the man of the match award for his gritty innings that resulted in the win and PARESH the man of the series award for his stupendous batting display...both being die hard fans of Tendulkar...it was a fitting tribute to the silent maestro...ironic that amongst the rowdy banter on and off the field...it was just their bats that did the talking while not a word escaped their lips...

It was cricket at its best...Thank you Manish for such an amazing cricket experience....and for all my readers who could not watch the tournament...you just missed some spectacular cricket...sorry folks...by the way i got to eat as much glucose as i wanted at the scoreboard and shouted myself hoarse throughout the tournament.

Cricket...truly the beautiful game...

SWINE "FLU"KE

DA....DA......DATS ALL FOLKS stammers away the cute and adorable Porky Pig after a Looney toons show and we croon in delight on seeing the roly -poly pig created by Warner Bros.
But since the last month any discussion about pigs could land you into serious soup....The cuss word "SWINE" , which is a favorite of the girls when they wish to slander a guy, is now the topic of a very dangerous medical epidemic hell bent on wiping off half of Orissa's population.

"Why so serious"??? LETS PUT A SMILE on that face i decided(may God grant peace to Heath Ledgers soul)...and one evening when all the world was furiously scratching away at their lab records brains turning to jelly in the process , a devious plan was hatched by my ever notorious brain. I recollected that one of my uber cool friends Nishan Gantayat was suffering from flu since the morning.And everything fell into place at once.The cog wheels clicked and TCHING...my light bulb brain lit up with a brilliant plan.

OK once again people i never thought that my harmless joke would boomerang with such ferocity and the repercussions of a harmless joke would make me the public enemy number 1 amongst my female fan following.....
I had heard of Shakespheres famous quote .....HELL HATH NO FURY THAN A WOMAN SCORNED.....and i had dismissed it as one of the ever so many idiosyncrasies of a half bald bard....until that night.
You may have heard of gruesome stories of mobs lynching its unpopular leaders...well it was the same case with me...had i ventured anywhere near the New Hostel that day i would have been strung up by may sideburns and then pelted stones at.

Well back to the proceedings of that evening .......i typed out a message ...here are the contents

VSSUT ALERT: A Manufacturing Sc. student Nishan Gantayat has been tested positive for swine flu.He has been hospitalised immediately.Please take vaccines as soon as possible.
And i gleefully pressed the "send" option to my friends...but i tactfully avoided her sister...a move that lessened the brunt of the opprobrium(A last minute move)....
And then unawares of the domino effect i had created, i hurriedly scribbled a few more pages of my lab assignment before having dinner.(Once more a last minute effort guaranteed to get me a D in my labs)
And when i say domino effect i mean a real huge domino effect...the friends i had forwarded it to in turn forwarded it to their friends who in turn forwarded it to their friends....and rumour spread like wildfire among the six hostels.....people were shocked out of their wits....one moment they were lazing around in the balmy evening and the next moment they were on the brink of a major pandemic..

To describe that night as frantic is an understatement....it was utter chaos....phones started ringing off the hook and people converged at any place they could find to discuss such a serious issue.i even added that "Nishan had been dispatched to the hospital " to any one who called me up for conformation.The brouhaha that i had created gathered into a veritable snowstorm....the only topic of discussion was NISHAN AND SWINE FLU...left ,right and centre.The poor guy was having his dinner at a table and at the next table people were making plans for carrying him off to the hospital as soon as possible...truly a hilarious situation.

By and by the rumour died down...as people guessed that the message coming from a crackpot like me it was bound to be a hoax whose sole intention was to create chaos....but that was what i thought....

When the message reached NH it was like a MOLOTOV COCKTAIL...the moment it hit it burst out into a fire of controversy....wails could be heard for the poor guy...i was told that juniors , batchmates and seniors alike huddled together to provide consolation to her sister(who of course was nonchalantly going on with her work as she had already realised it was a prank).But her friends had already declared me public enemy number 1 , and brandished knives in the air baying for my blood....it was the fiercest vituperation form a girl who first called up to enquire about Nishan"s health that amazed me....Why was she so concerned was the million dollar question......

Of course Nishan was silently happy that i had played the prank so that he could bask in the outpouring of love form the NH.....and that too un-sisterly love....AAH ! Well the things i stoop to do for my friends.....

And the icing on the cake was my sweet friend Mridu who called up and let loose her well rehearsed anger on me...the torrent of words were so fast and she was so angry that she was literally on fire.And like any mischief monger, i was cool about my shenanigans...so cool that she banged the phone in frustration (they don't call me the ICEMAN for nothing)

So in hindsight i am proud to say that my sociological experiment worked and i can proudly say that i controlled DEMOCRACY WITH A CELLPHONE.....of course i avoided the proximity of NH for a few days and this hoax message did the rounds of our hostel a few more days before fading into oblivion.But it was the stuff of huge laughs at Bulu bhai's tea stall(My next blog)And the mawkish reaction of my female fan following resulted in this blog...thanks girls...waiting for your retaliation so that i can add it in my next blog...:) and for now iall i can wish my readers is OINK OINK and Nishan please get well soon....but don't worry ill type out a cool obituary for u in case you decide to kick the bucket........sorry Nishan you were just an unfortunate victim ....or should i say you were just a SWINE FLUKE.....:)

Cheerio folks

CLASSROOM CAPERS part 4

Ahoy there mates....yo ho ho and a bottle of rum ....the daily humdrum and ennui had turned my cerebral matter into jelly and had to resort to watching the hilarious antics of Captain Jack Sparrow to fire up my gray matter...hence the Pirate hangover...

"Oh god please kill me today so that i don't have to go to my class "has become a repeated incantation as i wake up every morning....and let an earthquake reduce the electrical department to shambles...has become a futile prayer as i have to grudgingly accept the fact that Burla lies well away from any sort of geological tummy upsets. Adding to the fact that near perfect grades of 9.83 have made a branchmate "Santanwa" fall in love with the branch and rouse professors from their afternoon siestas to take classes has been death knell to all my hopes of a lazy afternoon gracing the tea shop in my shorts.DAMN YOU i mutter every time i see her now a days.No hard feelings girl...just that your antics have made me lose my beauty sleep.

Savvy?? or should i give you a detailed account of my harassing experinces...Ok for all of my non college mates .....here goes..

Have you ever been to a place where you feel all your happiness has vanished , where the skepticism of your mind overrules the optimism of your heart, the very purpose of existence stands defeated, the dark cavernous halls resounding of the whispers of anguished souls whose wallowing misery remains etched on the walls(juxtaposed to the Paan spit)....

Remember how the DEMENTORS had an effect on a place in Harry Potter movies....have you ever been to a place where laughing and unbridled joy is condoned?? a place where gay abandon is blasphemy ...a place whose erstwhile traditions would asphyxiate you ....well folks welcome to our ELECTRICAL DEPARTMENT...and hey this is just the good side...the dark underbelly of our department is exposed only to us unfortunate lot of branch students.

The whispers of the dark hallways speak of untold misery, of hours of endless waiting for the ever elusive teachers to show up and sign a document(the holy grail of the secretaries)

When you walk from the chemistry department towards the electrical side , creativity and colour fades away...You enter a monochromatic world of starched iron collars, pressed formals and the leather stench of formal shoes.It is as if all happiness has been straitjacketed here and thrown out of the window.

If i would be given the opportunity to photo tag the deaprtment faculty along with the building then i would surely tag it as .........."DUNGEONS AND DRAGONS"

And one must have a resolute will, nerves of steel to stop the pangs of frustration from playing haywire with your mental wiring.Especially in the labs where the Godforsaken instruments have a mind of their own and refuse to yield to your repeated efforts and sometimes completely shut down after you have used a string of cuss words on them.

When i used to say that classes were dead boring in the second year, this years classes are draining . Between a tooth extraction and electrical classes i would choose the former.....Between a glass of hemlock and electrical classes i would choose the former, Between a lunch of squid soup and electrical classes i would choose the former.....just so that you get an inkling of how energy sapping the classes are.

And then the icing on the cake are the teachers of our department...if i would write about the idiosyncrasies of all our teachers then it would fill an entire encyclopedia..so i am just picking out a couple....

The best and the worst ....BB Pati and PK Hota.......one is the smiling assasin and the other is the Burla bomber...

If Pati is a sniper(silently picking his targets and proceeding to demolish their reputation), then Hota is a 50 caliber machine gun shredding everything in its path.

If Pati shreds your copy then Hota likewise shreds your reputation....It is like being on the sets of Godfather..ever waiting for the next volley of bullets , the next gunfight where you meet your end...getting out unscathed from their classes is akin to getting out of Pearl Harbour alive after the Japanese attack.And the list goes on. Pati relishes making your copy into an airplane.....an assignment defaulter would find his copy doing a pyrotechnics display in the air before landing unceremoniusly out of the door.And Hota proceeds to bludgeon every ounce of self respect and self esteem out of you.....You would feel better if someone molested you rather than getting an earful in his class.......

"YOU BALOONWALLAHS" being his latest form of abuse on us thick skinned back benchers...and we bear it all silently ..ever waiting for a chance of PAYBACK...after all Revenge is a dish best served cold ...one day divine justice will prevail and our hapless souls would get salvation from this vicious cycle of classes and abuse ....how i wish that day would dawn soon.Yet while we languish in our miseries....... every day feeling the same, the drab dull classes grinding on and on ...the girls of our section have shrugged off their plight and carry on with their daily routine, enjoying the rigors all the way.....my branchmate Shraddha has even earned the nickname of "Pilot" because of her ease in maneuvering through stormy classes and lab sessions.Her eagerness to attend classes showed that day when she took the pain of calling the teacher for a class...a blasphemy for the BBC and was almost downcast when classes were suspended that day.Last laugh ....BBC

For all us guys it has been a trying time lately....gone is the fun and revelry we used to have in second year, gone is the swashbuckling attitude towards classes...how i miss the IT students of 1st year......so for all ye readers who had hoped to find a more hilarious and action packed CLASSROOM CAPERS Part 4 i regret to inform you i may have to close this capers series and hence forth write under titles like THE ESCAPIST , THE HARASSED MIND, THE CLASSROOM REDEMPTION,I KNOW WHAT YOU DID AT THE LAST BENCH etc etc...

Cheerio folks and enjoy the last vestiges of fun and your afternoon siestas before class starts once again ..........Adios Amigos..

MARS VS VENUS part 2

A sequel to my highly controversial blog MEN ARE FROM MARS AND WOMEN FROM VENUS....this blog post delves deep into the emotional psyche and the character make up of the human race.

For this blog i have to draw my conclusions from the just concluded exams of ours...A cursory glance at the result sheets would send common guys like me into cardiac arrest.just before that allow me to draw up an analogy that would make my case more watertight.

The world sat up and applauded when a young Nadia Comaneci got a perfect 10 in the winter olympics for her scintillating gymnastic display...and almost 30 years after a girl from the non-descript town of Burla has replicated the effort.......albeit this time it was the exam grades.The girl DEVASHREE's scorecard reads O O O O O O O O O O ...looks like some office clerk was playing with a puncher.And her SG stands at a perfect 10."Kudos to her"you would expect me to say ..."but why the hell cant you get lower grades ??"i ask in frustration ...How can i tell my parents that our highest grade is a 10...thats why everytime i scale down the highest grades to just 0.7 above my own grades....that way i can avoid the nagging of my mom...Anyways great effort Devashree ....when do you plan to break out the champagne ???

Yep i told you girls were all devillish and freaky....they meddle with the universe's entropy and think of ways to bring a little more orderliness into the chaos driven world.Guys dont care two hoots about being perfectionists..thats why Leonardo and Michealangelo broke a tiny part of their statues after its completion, otherwise too much perfection would invite the wrath of the Gods.So I think my branch mates Shraddha and Santwana are spared of divine wrath with their almost perfects grades of 9.83........If i ever saw that grade on my result sheet i would have to be airlifted to hospital.

Let me give you some more insights into the ongoing contrasts.....

TIME 7pm :- My hostel would be alive with people having their snacks....most of them grabbing from each other ...people milling around the notice board ....people coming back from the ground after a match of cricket or volleyball and people planning on what brand of booze to buy for that nights party....

a ubiquitious sight you would say and shrug it off.......

And then i choose to give you an insight into the LADIES HOSTEL...(Of course these are just excerpts from my conversations with Mridu ...so if any of these facts are wrong ...you know whom to prosecute :) )

TIME 7pm:- Girls are glued to their tables.... pens furiously scratching away .....making their lab notes ready as if they were going to be hung in an art gallery.....frantically rifling through books that could kill a person if dropped on him........everyone all washed up and after their evening prayers....the smell of incense wafting through the corridors .......and a deathly eerie silence engulfs the air....a sudden assault on the auditory senses ..a shriek ..a cry of delight...snippets of loud laughter of a girl conversing with her lover are all frowned upon....Noise is almost a blasphemy during study hours and the perpetrator would get murderous glances from her roommates.

And come exam time the study hours just get longer....food , drink, movies are forgotten...girls enter a world of oblivion...books...notes...question papers in hand ...trying to guzzle in all info at hand and study as if the world was about to end tomorrow.And one thing i ve noticed about them is that every girl has her own book , notes and question paper...sharing is a word not found in their lexicon

And in our case....often 6 people share the same book.Why...our whole wingmates had to rely on 2 BK publication guides during the maths exam..and we rotated it around in shifts....One gets accustomed to this style of reading during the exams in our wing...During my 3rd semester exams that rascal Ramesh from Civil shared an OB book with not only me (the sponsor) but with 12 other people ..the book got so torn up in the process i daresay that the guy selling groundnuts in front of my hostel used the pages for selling his wares.Once again I use the word "doubtful authenticity" when i see a book in Anubhav's hand claiming that it is his book.It must have been a joint venture with 5 other people....and sometimes the whole hostel shares a single question paper...the word "MINE" often gets blurred when you enter engineering life.....Its only yours till you stop using it.And after the exams if any guy is seen with a book in his hands then he has to bear the brunt of taunts that dog him everywhere until he decides to put the book back into the cobweb infested shelf.

Apart from the mundane dull grey world of studies ...if i give you an insight into the dark realms of the female mind then you would shudder in horror ....appalled....horrified....terrified and all other "fied" adjectives .

"Their minds are really dark and deep,

dark secrets they tend to keep

and wont hesitate to kill you in your sleep"

are some of the words that Robert Frost would have liked to say , but didnt want to harm his female fan following.So i choose to risk it.

Ive heard girls like to tune into gossip and gleefully like to gang up against girls they secretly are envious of......effect of watching too many "K"soaps...all of them emulating the sexy vamps we guys tend to drool over every evenings on TV.Once they get into a fight with other girls then they are like simmering embers...just waiting for the next spark to fuel the fires.

While if we guys ever enter a fight then its a no -holds -barred contest with all kinds of kicking and punching and abusing involved...but after a few hours after everything cools down ...we share a laugh over a cup of tea and all the ill will is forgotten.I remember Prateek and me had a food fight ......we were throwing around mutton pieces and smearing each other with muttin curry ...really was a big fight....but it died down in one day and we are still best of buddies...although sometimes i marvel at the way how i had thrown a small mutton piece all the way across 3 tables and had hit him squarely in the neck...signs of an expert sniper...

We tend to let it all out...kicking and punching for us acts as a catharsis for our pent up rage...while girls let the ill feeling fester and simmer away ..ever waiting for an opportune moment to strike back.

And then once again in the emotional context girls are way more scarier.recently when my sisters bunny rabbit died...i smsed all my friends.Me , my brother and all my guy friends joked around and suggested that we make a barbecue of the rabbit...For all of you who didn't know rabbit meat is very tender and juicy...perfect for an ideal dinner.And my sister was crying all afternoon and still remembers how the rabbit used to cuddle up to her.My cheeky little cousin brother...around Reechels age suggested we flush it down the toilet and i had ahuge laugh about it.Guys are so imaginitive i tell you ....

And then when i amde the mistake of letting Mridu and my friend Shraddha know of reechel's plight they were all like cushions of sorrow...expressing their heartfelt sorrow and proceeding to give me a lecture on my heartlessness...taking the opportunity to give me a dressing down on my inhuman behaviour...and all sorts of advice.....

Girls i tell you are too emotionally attached to their things....Mridu often tells me how she treasures many worthless things and she still remebers who gave what to her ...and attaches huge emotional baggage to it.I ve heard of girls who treasure their notebooks from KG which serves as a mnemonic to their childhood...

SHEESH.....i believe in looking ahead...i tend to break most of my things after prolonged use and throw it into the nearest dustbin after its "validity expires".And i cant even think about an instance where i have treasured something for more than a year.Reechel has a shiny pen that my uncle gave her...she treasures it and hasnt written a single word with it since 4 years...if i had that pen i would have finished it off in 3 monts and then would have ended up losing the cap and then would have ended up playing with the internal springs....

well guys tend to be pragmatists...God gave us heads and girls hearts is what i would like to surmise after my observations.Thats why we guys fall head over heels in love with the for their qualities..and thus ending the MARS VS VENUS debate ......Cheerio folks ...enjoy your summer holidays

SCHIZOPHRENIA

Ahoy there readers , this blog post is a paradigm shift from the comic blogs that i keep on posting.I decided to dabble in some serious stuff that really gives you the creeps. STAUTORY WARNING- do not read this blog when you are alone at home , especially in the night.Your parents may have been visiting your relatives and you decide to relax at home, not wanting to be the attention of your relatives who keep on harking on how thin youve grown and useless stuff like that.So you decide to log on to my blog post and after reading you keel over and die in shock.

Now I dont want any of those incidents.So i warned you beforehand.

This story won me the first prize in our school, when i was in class 10th in our BOOK REVIEW WEEK.And the prize was a damn atlas.So i decided to share my story with all the weak hearted fools out there and give them goosebumps in the middle of the night.So here goes............


The idyllic rolling meadows , the sun kissing down on the golden fields of mustard as the crops gently swayed with the wind in perfect tandem,and the far off cry of the robin were the only sights that would greet the senses as one stopped by at the "Little John" village in the Sussex countryside.It was a place where time stood still and very few clocks graced themselves in public places.A few home steads and cattle ranches dotted the meadows , almost as if it was a live subject for an artists canvas.The Hogs Head bar was the sole place of entertainment for the working folk of the village who mostly consisted of sun burnt farmers and the young workers with their sprightly girlfriends.The callused hands of the people were testament to the fact that brawn was more deigned upon than brains.

Perfect for a summer vacation away form the humdrum of city life, Little John village saw a smatttering of a few tourists who came down every year to relax in the environs of the village but would soon pack their bags as the rains started.

Because it was on the windward side of the hills, Little John village received rain in bucketfuls to say the least and being caught outside was a nightmare for the townspeople.

This summer young Monica Brown had come down form her hostel in the city to stay with her uncle and aunt in their large cattle ranch.She had just completed her exams and wanted a sabbatical.Parting from her boyfriend , (who was going off to Queens University to study electrical engineering)had been painful and she wanted to spend time with her relatives so that she had a firm grip on things before she went back to finish her education.So she decided to take the rickety old bus into Little John.

And here she was.......A bubbly girl oozing of energy was how the townsfolk would describe the lass.Doe eyed and soft spoken ,her good manners rubbed off on the villagers.Always cheerfull and ever ready to help her aunt Daisy she had become the cynosure of the quiet village s people.Now although she could easily break her ice among male company she was quite good friends with the dairy girls living in the nearby farmsteads.Often they would be seen sharing a laugh while working away in the dairy farms.

Summer came and went and the rains then started their onslaught on the sleepy little village.The village streets wore a deserted look as the tourists frantically cleared out of the village.The already sleepy village now resembled a cemetry with people barricading themselves in their homes out fear of the rains.

One night Monica's uncle and aunt had to rush to one of their friends place.The farmer had had fallen from his tractor and broken a few ribs in the process.Not wanting to intrude on the distraught family, Monica decided to stay back.She had comfortably settled herself on the couch near the fireplace and was curled up with her favorite novel.She had fallen asleep while reading and after an hour or so she woke up to a horrendous CRASH .She woke up to find the kitchen window crashing around in the strong winds.It was raining cats and dogs and huge booms of thunder could be heard near the hills.The gale had picked up and blew throughthe town with an eerie whistle.Closing all the windows she stoked up the fire and settled down.Just as she turned a page when ...........the lights went out. Her heart skipped a beat......then she calmed down realising that power cuts were not uncommon in these parts especially during the rains.Peals of lightning streked across the sky almost making it daylight fo a second.Then suddenly a flash of lightning revealed a silhouette lined near the bedroom window.She blinked in surprise as her hand scrambled for the torch and frantically trying to turn it on she slipped near the couch.Suppressing a yell, she managed to fumble for the torch and switch it on , but the moisture had damaged the cells and they wouldnt turn on.

And then at that very instant , lightning streaked across the sky , and what she saw made her blood run cold.Fear gripped her and she was numbed to see the dark silhouette crouching near the window pane on the front porch trying to gain entry into the house.And a glint of metal sent a shiver up her spine.She was sure it was the serial killer who had escaped from London prison a week ago.Fervently praying she grabbed a poker rod from the fireplace and stealthily crept up to the front door.

BANG CRASH ..Monica almost fell over in shock as the dark figure had now started banging loudly on her door.The figure was yelling something , incoherent to her over the sounds of thunder and rain. Convinced she was going to face the worst today ,Monica decided to startle the killer with a surprise attack.Keeping out of his line of sight she slowly crept towards the door, unscrewed the lock and wrenched it open in one motion.Simultaneously closing her eyes she swung her poker rod towards his head.But she felt a violent excruciating pain in her wrist and when she opened her eyes her poker rod had been wrested from her.

A beseeching "Please dont kill me" was all that she could manage to whimper as she knelt down knowing that the inevitable was going to happen.

"And why would i do that ma'am"."Blistering barnacles..... Why would i want to kill you"

came the reply.Startled Monica looked up and saw a rain soaked figure holding a police badge in her hand.struggling to stand she was helped to her feet by the gent.Agent Thompson from the crime bureau in London deadpanned the gent.I am the special liasion agent to Little John from the agency.Ma'am we are investigating the disappearances of three young women from these parts.They are suspected to have been killed by the serial killer who escaped from London a few days back.I was notified by your uncle today that you were alone in the house , so i came down to make sure you were OK.I tried calling you near the window and near the front porch.but you wouldnt listen.So i thought something was wrong and was trying to break in when you surprised me with your attack.

"Sorry i was scared out of my wits" was all a sheepish Monica could answer."It's OK ma'am just make sure your doors and windows are fastened properly.Nights like these are most favourable for the killer.Ill be checking on some houses down the block and coming back to my stake out position in the fields.Make sure you secyre yourself properly in your house."

"Ok" replied a releived Monica and bolted the front door.

Trying to calm down her frayed nerves , she walked back into the kitchen.She checked on all the windows there and then went down to the cellar to check the exit hatch.She noticed something seeping into the floorboards from below and she bent down to check.She removed three floorboards and what greeted her was a chilling sight.The stiff corpses of the three missing girls stared back at her, with the same horrified expression just as they were killed.

She stood up and threw back her hair and her devillish throaty laugh was drowned out by the thunder rolling across the hills.................

So how was the story folks?Enough to make you scared of things that go bump in the night...???

Send in your comments and feedback.

MEN are from MARS and WOMEN from VENUS

Well after years of studying the human psyche , mostly observing my kith and kin and some of my girlfriends here in Burla(mark the word is girl-friends , not to be interpreted in any other way) I hav come across very striking characteristics that tend to add some more valuable material to the ongoing men vs. women debate.
Of course in an engineering college you come across many kinds and shades of people....there are snobbish ones, greedy ones, perpetual bankrupt ones(like me),garrulous and overtly friendly ones and the list goes on , but there is only one species that stands a class apart from the mundane and lowly existance of ours and that is the .....GIRLS.....

"You can glorify them, you can villify them , but one thing for sure you can't ignore them".

While our morning often starts with a customary trip to the tea stall in pyjamas looking like deranged victims of a lunatic asylum, i daresay that the girls all wake up early in the morning and have their customary round of prayers and then would follow their own timetables like clockwork.Yet on the other hand the sight you would see in the boys hostel just near class time would be people rushing from bathrooms, frantically ruffling through their hair and practically bathing in their deodrants....

Yet a cursory glance at the girls going to classes would be a picture of serenity...all calm and composed , with their bags, looking all prim and proper and smelling like my mothers perfume box.........and every one of them looking like little rays of sunshine.

Why is it that while we boys revel in wearing unwashed drab , half torn clothes giving the slum dwellers of Kirba tough competition.........the girls take pride in their wardrobe , their clothes all washed and scrubbed clean and reeking of detergent.when i am in my pyjamas , i would be easily mistaken for any one of the wardboys in our hostel , yet girls look hot in their PJ's.....of course girls look hot with anything on .........The sight of a 10 day stubble would be considered manly for us and yet girls take pride in their washed and plaited hair.
Is this some kind of foisted ideology or does the blame rests solely on our genetic make up ............. i mean come on its only the difference of one letter in our genes ...men are XX and girls are XY...how can we be so different??The perfect case study for aliens coming from outer space ...........to them it would look like we men are one of the greatest accidents of the Big bang......a mistake in the orderliness of the cosmos.............

Coming back to the martian versus venusian issue.....a look at their notebooks would give all the thermodynamics laws a run for their money...............It is said that the entropy of the universe always tends to increase , but a glance at any girls lab record would deny this unquestionable truth............

Awe,amazement,kudos,bravo,appreciation are some of the adulatory adjectives you would be bestowing on the girls after a chance meeting with their lab records....their records a tapestry of blue,green,red,pencil shadings ....and colours that even eluded DaVinci. Drawings all done to the dot, calligraphy so precise you would be astounded that the human hand is capable of such beauty ............I doubt that the colour pens they use in their records is even availible in the market.......one of my branch mates Shraddha, who is the sole notes provider during our exams...in a nutshell a lifeline in our exams.......writes simultaneously with three pens.....scrolling back and forth between pens like an expert cowboy........

well sometimes it gives us boys an inferiority complex just looking at their copies........."owners pride neighbours envy".After reading this blog i hope the girls would feel the plight of us poor aesthetically challenged boys and atleast let up on their artistic display.SOS girls......

And then coming to their dietary habits again we would find a huge awning gap."OOOh such oily stuff" was the reaction of a friend, Shobhnaa when i offered her a sweet all dripping in syrup.To me it was a cullinary gift from the gods and she looked at it as if i was offering her a glass of hemlock to drink.GOD something is seriously wrong with the girls.

While we boys would gobble up anything from any roadside jaunt, girls wouldn't be caught dead eating from a roadside dhaba.They prefer to hang out in all swanky and air-conditioned places oozing of sophistication.My friend "Mridu" who used to tease me by regaling me with her dining experiences at swanky resturants ,was a recent victim of jaundice........who has the last laugh now Ms. Prim and Proper ??????

But one thing you cant deny is the ayailibilty of cash with the girls....call it their hoarding mentality or just plain miserliness , any randomly chosen girl would have enough cash on person to throw a party for her friends....come to the boys and it would require a borrowing spree from atleast five close friends along with forgoing on our snacks allowance to sponsor a birthday party...once again my sweet friend Mridu bailed me out of a tough financial crunch by lending me a staggering Rs.600 for my new specs. one phone call , with some soppy emeotional story did the trick...............one more observation lesson for the guys .........weave up an emotionally touching story about your cash strapped existance it loosens their purse strings.i tried it on my sister as well as on Mridu and they took the bait ,hook -line -and sinker.

If i would elaborate on the ongoing Girls versus Boys issue it would fill up an entire encyclopedia of psychological contrasts,and would earn me opprobium from my entire female fan following........so i take the opportunity to end my blog while all the girls who have been reading my blog till now must be devising ways of killing me in my sleep for my comic portrayal...........HELP GUYS

SKINNY DIPPING IN THE MAHANADI

Imagine hot coals under the road and the shimmering mirages all around....trees bent under the scorching glare of the hot summer sun and the desert like winds kissing your face and threatning to set fire to it ......bit of an overstatement , but this is what summers in Burla is like.

No kidding folks .....the afternoon climate takes a leaf out of the Patagonian desert's book. Thats why i have been recently watching the Man vs. Wild videos of Bear Grylls , so that i have first hand knowledge of where to find water when others are dying of thirst.....

But the best place to be on a summer afternoons would be the banks of the Mahanadi , which i have been visiting frequently.Very few people are privy to the location of this amazing bathing spot ....of course , only the few adventurous guys , who think on the lines of Amundsen , Hillary , Thor Heyerdhal like yours truly ever take the opportunity to explore the untamed wilderness beyond the sheltered life of the hostels ......Too melodramatic you would think ...but the ineffable appeal of the outdoors always gets to me ....for a guy who grew up reading Famous five adventures , Robert Ludlums novels based in god -forsaken terrains and watching Nat Geo shows ,going on a trekking trip to the banks of the river endears to me

And most of my friends mistake my frequent visits as madness......my batchmates portray me as some sort of heartbroken lover who found solace near the river.....madness it is , but of a different sort .

To feel the power of the strong river current, being scratched by the mighty rocks gracing the river bed , flirting with danger and playing peek-a-boo with the fishes is a transcedental experience.

Far from the madding crowd , the river bank is a place where you really let your hair down, there are no pretensions , no veneer of false impressions , and no ego....i have gone there with friends and once in the water there is no ill will, forgotten are the past quarrels and fights ....what remains is the human spirit so vulnerable and stripped off all its pomp and grandeur. The cool pristine waters of the Mahanadi are a delight on hot midafternoon , and the nearby berry trees are the prfect carry along snack for the long walk back.

On the walk towards the river , it's a great soul enriching experience if you stop for a while and take in the scenery . Rolling hills in the backdrop , tall swaying grasses , the faint whiff of the berries in the air, and the shrill call of the distant magpie is what would appear on first glance , but stand for a few more minutes and the sounds and sights disapper, all that remains is the roar of the river and the oneness you feel with it. Peace amidst the chaos and tumult near the waters edge.In the summer , the waters edge produces a distinct bend near the rocks as it meanders along ...after summer the monsoons add to the rivers fury and gone is that bend.You only get to see it during summer and that , take my word for it is the best bathing place as it has the most water in that area.

Philosophical shit , you may think , but what made me realise the fact that in times of crisis it is that deep reserve of conviction and courage that pulls you through tough times. In the harsh climate of Burla , the great Mahanadi doesnt dry up and present a sorry sight, affirment of the fact that we can not only endure , but prevail.

So folks , do visit the place and go skinny dipping there ....the virgin tracts of unexplored grasslands and the pristine waters of Mahanadi awaits you .....and yes next time i go for a dip and don't come back from the river, call search and rescue and take whatever is in my wallet and pay back my mess dues.........:)

CHICKEN DELIGHTS

The smooth toned legs .....the soft skin ....the gentle caress on my lips.....and CRUNCH CRUNCH as i bite down on the chicken lolipop i am gorging on in a resturant.
Come New Year and its the time for parties where you get a one in a lifetime chance to feast on all sorts of chicken delights.Of course i missed quite a few parties on account of my fever , but i have no regrets , i'll make it up somehow.

Well folks , chicken delights are not to be savoured by all of sundry, it is reserved for the special breed of connoissuers like me who are willing to break all rules of tradition and eat chicken even on festival days and other religious events ....because i believe ...ITS BETTER TO BE SPRITUALISTIC THAN TO BE RITUALISTIC. I mean god doesnt stop loving you if you decide to forego vegan food .You can still be a devotee without forgoing non-veg stuff.

To give you an example of how hypocritic people can be ......I had dropped in at the Computer science welcome.The spread they had organised was mouth watering with a variety of dishes and at last ...Chicken masala. Of course at that time there was some kind of religious month going on so most people were piling up near the veg counter. So for me it was easy to visit the non-veg counter quite a few times and ended up eating around 22 pieces of chicken ....yes people you had read corrrectly it was 22. And all the while i was eating away , i sensed the eyes of some girls on my plate , i almost sensed their despair of not tucking into such tasty chicken.And all because of stupid self-imposed rule of chicken abstinence.

Now when i am in the hostel , i regularly visit the nearby Bhairavi dhaba on Mondays and Thursdays with my friends ...and we eat as many number of dishes our wallets allow...of course i have to wash it down with 2 bottles of Mounatin dew otherwise i would die of indigestion.
And 2 names come to mind whenever i bite into any chicken dish ...One of them is Tulu and the other is Tapas....

Well Tulu is an all- time -chicken- loving- aficianodo. whenever the topic of discussion veers around Chicken , he always has the expert opinion..regaling us with stories of his travels through the state and about the chicken dishes at various resturants.And this guy has a penchant for Chicken Biriyani. Call him to have some Chicken biriyani, and if he has no money for it , then he would gladly sell off his clothes to eat biriyani.

And the next guy is Tapas.What is remarkable about him is the lightning speed and dexterity with which he manages to finish off his chicken.Once a lot of friends had gone to SANGRAM in sambalpur and we had ordered Chicken Tandoori.I was holding on to a large chunk of the chickens leg and was in the process of taking it near my mouth, and when it readched my mouth all that was left of it was a few scraps of meat attached to the bone.Tapas had eaten off the piece with both hand and that too with super fast agility...PHEW

Whenever you people see a soft , fuzz balled chick ...you get all mellow and croon in delight awed by the sweet and cute little bird , but what i see is tasty chicken lolipops sitting atop toothpicks waiting to be taken into the oven......yes i should really see a psychiatrist.

After writing so much about the bird , it would be an insult if i do not pray for the peace of its soul ..................and then cut it up and gorge on it afterwards.So for all those chicken lovers out there after reading this blog , do send in your experiences about how chicken delights have really spiced up your appetite.

HAPPY FEASTING folks......