Tuesday, February 28, 2006

Sunday, February 26, 2006

Varun alias H.Ramasamy

Sidin, in his now very-famous oft-quoted classic summed up quite clearly the travails of single south indian men.

And mashter[1], in his own style ranked coolers in the order of coolness of their names and the implied scale of single women being attracted to people with these names[2].

nomenclature scale
1:surea figura thethiduvan
10:explains it all

bharathwaj ravichandran-6
neelakantan rajaraman-8
srivatsan srinivasan-9
ishwar sridharan-5
vaidyasubramanian chandranshekar-22
shyaamprasad subramanian-9
ramprakash radhakrishnan-17
grurprasad subburaman-9
pradeep johnson-1
rajsundar elangovan- perfect 10
arvind ramanan-3

any other ranking here? the names explains everything

Despite the distinct possibilty of having to suffer massive brain haemorrage and your appendix jumping up and choking your third aorta leading to a particularly painful death, I urge you, for a moment, to imagine yourself having the name Varun alias H.Ramasamy

Sidin and mashter, good as they are, can't quite capture the agony. Your school certificates say Varun alias H.Ramasamy, the supervisor at the engineering entrance examination asks for your identification card, obviously quite suspicious of somebody having sucha name, goes back home and tells his wife after having noiseless sex to not wake up his nosy parents and sleeping chilren, talks about the horrible sadistic parents who did this to their son and resolve only to keep Shahrukh khan's identity in his movies to their future children. Rahul and Raj seem quite acceptable after Varun alias H.Ramasamy.

You join engineering, and the lecturers call you "varun eleyes" assuming that you are a born-again christian and getting confused when you wear vibhuti to the class.You have to start every exam with this name, and those instances when you decide to write the name at the last, you forget it and end up writing the exam all over again. The hostel warden assumes that alias is your surname and stubbornly refuses to call you ramasamy.

And when you want to end it all and decide to commit suicide, you imagine the next day's newspapers carring the news Varun alias H.Ramasamy found dead in the hostel room, go home, kill your parents and go to jail.

All this is because your mom saw a 1980s dilip movie, on who she had a crush on, and decided to name you in his honour. Life is funnny.

[1] For non-coolers, mashter is the official cook of the wing.
[2] Pay special attention to Vaidyasubramanian Chandrasekaran and Ramprakash Radhakrishnan.

Saturday, February 25, 2006

I had quite forgotten what it feels to be eighteen. Had my share yesterday, and feeling high on dopamine and testosterone :)

A appeal for fair play


Somebody please tell me that this is not true. Please!

Thursday, February 23, 2006

Observations that don't mean a thing - 1

The better my posts are, the lesser the comments get.

Those early suckers

Fossil Overturns Ideas of Jurassic Mammals

The discovery of a furry, beaver-like animal that lived at the time of dinosaurs has overturned more than a century of scientific thinking about Jurassic mammals.

The find shows that the ecological role of mammals in the time of dinosaurs was far greater than previously thought, said Zhe-Xi Luo, curator of vertebrate paleontology at Carnegie Museum of Natural History in Pittsburgh.

These things suck.
My choice of language for discussions with people is dictated by the time when I got to meet them. If you know me from 2003 or earlier, I'dve talked to you in tamil, but had we meet anytime after that, it's english, no matter what your mother tongue is.

What's my point? Ha!

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

The moral satisfaction of being fair doesn't matter in the least when the opponents shove a grenade up your arse when you given them both the grenade and your arse in a platter. Wonder why the war president is stupid enough to do this.

Mr.Bush, it is indeed not OK for a company from certain countries to own your ports. What, do you live in Alice in Wonderland?

I am a secular person, I really am in the sense that I tage anything religious into the same category and look at it with amusement, and I don't usually take fringe opinion to be the opinion of the masses. In any society, there are bound to be fringe elements that give you so much entertainment, like the VHP, imams, creationists, etc. But this time it has gone a bit overboard. What I thought was a fringe group actually managed to voice the mainstream opinion. Yes, I'm talking about the cartoon controversy.

I stop here for the fear of losing my secularism :)

Dinosaurs and my hairy balls

When the ritualistic waking-up-to-a-new-dinosaur-every-morning therapy fails to give you your daily dose of escapism, you realise the extent to which life hates you.

I don't like the way the world functions. I don't like humanity's staggering stupidity. I don't like my breakfast cereal and that I am addicted to caffeiene. I don't quite like the nascent tummy that I so fashionably sport. I don't like it that people actually listen to radio city on the way to work. I don't like the traffic policeman in trinity circle that wears the dirty soiled cap. I don't like to look down and see my brown belt with a mended loop in a slightly different colour. I don't like my carpet stained with tea. I don't like the sagging breast of the motorcyclist that I often see at various traffic signals. I don't like people who tuck their t-shirts under their trousers, especially if the t-shirt is red in colour. I hate my hairy balls when the hair gets plastered to the balls after a shower. And the list goes on.

Dinosaurs have given me my daily dose of escapism from all the things that I hate, except my hairy balls. It is my own world where I can imagine feathered tyrannosaurs ambling after bulky iguanodons that are striped for camouflage, velociraptors pack-hunting and for an hour the world is to my liking.

When the ritualistic waking-up-to-a-new-dinosaur-every-morning therapy fails to give you your daily dose of escapism, you realise the extent to which life hates you.

Monday, February 20, 2006

We don't serve beef or pork products

What does a man have todo to have a good pepperoni pizza in a free country! Damn the hindus for getting offended if beef is served. Damn the jews and muslims who react with horror to juicy pork, and most importantly damn the restaurants who want to retain their clientele by not offending them.

Dammit, you are at the top of the food chain.

Freedom of speech and all sorts of crap

Well, I wanted to say a lot on this topic; but I don't want to trigger angry agitations in the VHP and imams community. Peace be unto me.
Beautiful word.


Music without lasting value, written to be used and discarded quickly.

Sunday, February 19, 2006

All that matters is

I believe that men are infinitely stupid when it comes to relationships. It takes two months to understand profundity, probably longer to give a retort.

Sometime during the last two months, my ex said - Now is all that matters, not what you went through. I had nodded then without understanding the context or the implications, for the reason that it sounded deep, and as people might already know, I have a fascination for deep statements.

I have two problems with the statement. On second thoughts, I think I should stop writing about everything that goes on in my stupid mind and stop giving all you blog-voyeurs a peep into my life.

Saturday, February 18, 2006

Life, or something like it.

What's pleasing to touch and pleasing to the eyes are seldom the same.

Enne kadumi me

Warning: This post will make sense only to that subset of readers that have resided in bangalore at some point in time and know kannada.

Request: This is a serious post. So, don't expect that this post will be the answer to all your life's troubles and will sweep away your depression. If you actually need one such panacea, realise that you suck and go here

The dosas that you get in the ubiquitous Sagars in bangalore literally drip oil. Planning to take a documentary - Enne Kadumi me on how the Sagars are taking over mainstream bangalore, how they are responsible for corporate obesity.

This is the plan. Breakfast, lunch and dinner at sagars for forty five days straight. Will take enne jaasti(more oil- the default mode) unless they explicity ask for enne kadumi, while constantly being monitored.

Muhaha.. The evil genius strikes. My chance to get rich.

And my next documentary will be on

Friday, February 17, 2006

So much has changed in the last two months and so much hasn't. Life has a strange and callous way of shaking you up just when you think you are comfortable with its futility. Cruel reminders that strip you off the comforting layer of purpose that you had so carefully placed and arranged meticulously, all the while telling yourself that the layer is but futile.

But then just when you get comfortable and when the layer gets an identity, a form that you actually feel happy about, life strikes. It hits you so hard in the balls and takes away the layer so fast that you don't know what struck you. You don't realise what life took away from you till the pain in the balls numbs out.

This two months has taught me so much. It reminded me of a few things that I had most conveniently forgotten - that the only entity I can trust is my will to survive. It also reminded me that no matter how close you are to another person, she'll think only about herself, and not about you. In short, it taught me to be logical.

It also taught me to go get a life. Am beginning to.
Sometimes I feel distanced from life. so much happens around me, and here I am, immersed ear-deep in my own world. I have nothing to say to anybody. I have nothing to write, nothing to express. I just exist. like a.. like a bad movie... a really bad movie.. it tells so much, but doesn't say anything, it doesn't make any sense outside being a bad movie. it has its own space in the rack, has its own clientele of viewers who are long since dead.

Yoo, hoo! Its good to be back :)