Winds of Change (and not my fart)

First thing first. An apology is due to all those people who are crazy enough to read my blog for their daily dose of headache. So I want to apologize to all you idiots. Sorry dumb$*@$#. The long hiatus from the blogging scene has been created due to my apparent ‘busyness’ of organizing Transcend ’06, working long and hard during summers and Summit SIBM. Basically I was busy trying to look busy all this while + I am in Finance = I am too busy to write in this space.

What’s changed in the past few months are the noble values that I stood for. I have “somehow” graduated from bring a junior to a senior. All of a sudden this act along with my presence in the student’s council means that I have to act responsibly this year. It’s not like I wasn’t responsible last year. I was responsible for stolen signboards, missed project deadlines, innumerable show cause notices, body odour etc. My new avatar of coming dressed in formals having bathed, being clean shaved and done other unmentionable clean up jobs in the morning has made me unrecognizable.

What’s changed in the past few months has been heart wrenching. My class is still on a lower level than the rest of the senior batch (concerned authorities believe that we still need to move up the graduation ladder…wouldn’t blame them after taking stock of our backlogs). The short cutie from Marcom who provided us the necessary excuse to climb the stairs and go to the 3^rd floor last year aint around anymore (now you know why I have put on so much weight…anyways going upto the Marcom class doesn’t make any sense now as they generally have greater ‘pressing’ issues to deal with). In an absolute ranking junior shorty is great but in a relative ranking she doesn’t quite match upto NW. What say Lord Tuktuk?

What’s changed in the past few months is that Nikhil has moved from being a plain vanilla fish eating Mallu to a super-duper hero. He has used his Googling superpower to download new apparel from the weirdest clothing sites. Continuous exposure to Anugya Punetha….sorry Cartoon Network means that one can see him dressed as Superman after night fall (he is trying to compete with her superpower of breaking buckets with her jaw). To outbid her in the race to save the world he has even downloaded Rajnikant’s Lungi. So now “jaise hi woh lungi uthati, tumko disco dikhaati” (pardon my Hindi…translation goes like this….lifting lungi is equal to showing disco balls). What’s most surprising is that he has managed to get a ‘kundi’ in his ‘undie’. Superrrrr. Is that the word of the day of the Nik?

What’s changed in the past few months is that I have started understanding Finance. I shall not faff but state my point like a true blue financial analyst. Saket has only 1 external paper backlog (not surprisingly the subject is banking….he even failed the internal while I passed!!!! hehehehahaha). So his expenses for the same = Rs. 450. The split is: Rs. 450 = Rs. 200 for exam form fees (Fixed Cost) + Rs. 250 for per paper fees (Variable Cost). My expenses are: Rs. 700 = Rs. 200 for exam form fees (Fixed Cost) + Rs. 500 for per paper fees (Variable Cost) (2^nd backlog after banking was eco where I shall be sitting for the re exam with an eco honors grad from St. Xavier’s, Bombay!!....If Danny ducked eco then I have no business of passing it). So basically my per unit cost is = 700/2 which is = Rs. 350 as compared to Saket’s Rs. 450. This can be explained by the fact that my fixed cost per unit = 200/2 = Rs. 100 against his Rs. 200. The difference in our total per unit cost is the result of this fixed cost differential. THUS PROVED.

What’s changed in the past few months is that people have started doing Gaandugiri…..sorry Gandhigiri. Inspired by his long walk to fame in search of salt people have started taking walks early in the morning. What these people are searching for is something that is deciphered only after you notice who the participants of this Random Walk Theory are. The LHS of this theory is: Finance hottie Jaanu Amreeka (boyfriend connect) does not have a home. RHS: She’s from Bombay. There are many homeless people in Bombay (trust me….god only knows how many times my pop has disowned me). Bombay’s homeless walk a great distance every morning to go to secluded places in order to take a dump. So while on the surface people may state that they are trying to lose weight the real reason is that they are practicing the act of Gandhigiri through the noble cause of salt extraction. She’s taken Gandhigiri to such a great extent that she has even turned Sam into a true Gandhian believer. When she slapped him on his right cheek he presented his left cheek to her and said that slap me again (don’t ask which cheeks?). 10/10 on the spank scale kya Sam?

Has anything changed in the past few months? I am totally clueless but i guess that the more things change, the more they stay the same.

Totally grossed out PJ Question: Why are Rishabh and Manit forever indebted to Jaanu?
Totally grossed out PJ Answer: Kyunki un logon ne Jaanu ka namak khaya hain.

The Empire Strikes Back

Everyone’s doing it. All you need are two people and you are set. You can do it by yourself too but more the merrier. Everyone loves watching you do it. In fact they actually join you and it turns into a mass affair before you can shout foul!

Being someone who hasn’t started doing it is a bit difficult as I tend to feel left out. I did actually start my initiation ceremony and crossed the tutorials upto the fourth level. The deal with the game is that there is a distinct classification of the players. The registered members of the fellowship are segregated as follows:

Beginner – Novices who have just downloaded the game like yours truly.

Intermediate – Most of the players that are around are classified thus. Noted players include Chocolate Boy, Arun Mudbidri, Gandhi, Vital Statistics, Dark Age, Dark Lord, Hornyta, Captain Jack Sparrow etc.

Expert – The player needs loads of dedication to get this certification. These are the revered few whose ticket to the All Stars game is fixed. Renowned exponents include Punjabi Sher, Artorius and Betgeri. I just hope that they start a mentorship program to drop kick our learning process.

Room no.7 has been dubbed the AOE Zone. It serves the role of being the fighting arena for these bravehearts. Quite simply put one shall find more guys going at each other in this room than attending lectures in the marketing or finance class. Even Arun Mudbidri hasn’t been spared. He is a regular intermediate level player on the circuit. Gandhi played too. He was no good and had to be dropped because of his non violent approach.

The sacrifices that have been made by the members are the stuff legends are made of. Guest lectures that last the whole day have been bunked. Lectures just before and after lunch are on the regular missed list. What’s with missing lectures when lunch and dinner are forgotten? The serious effect on the health of the players is visible to everyone. King, China and Hero have been sidelined at some point of time over the last few weeks. Five to six hours are taken off the busy daily schedules to make time for some serious gaming.

In fact the situation got so bad that Con Air had to delete the software from his lappie as he couldn’t cope with the hectic schedule of our institute. Ya right! But it seems like he has made a comeback to the colloseum. This move has been sparked by the announcement that AOE is an event in Transcend. All of a sudden it seems like these guys will make money from an activity that they love doing.

Life is not the same anymore. It isn’t as simple as it used to be. Uttering Minesweeper, FreeCell, Solitaire or Hearts can have real time implications on your resume. AOE determines who your friends are. It has taken a hold over many young lives. Even the entry of NFS Underground/Most Wanted and Pocket Tanks Deluxe on the P2P horizon couldn’t take away AOE’s position as the most preferred game on campus. Counter Strike and Road Rash don’t even come into the picture.

The marketplace has been reflected truly. Microsoft has garnered a huge slice of the gaming world. It is business as usual in this B-School.

Creatures of the Night

The day begins nice and early at an unmentionable hour which somehow falls in the second quarter of the day. It’s nowhere close to the afternoon mark that I consistently beat in my Bombay avatar. Is this seriously an MBA course that I am pursuing? All those horror stories of 16+ hour days are a thing of the past as we indulge in P2P networking. Assignments are taken care of by four clicks of the mouse.

1st: Right click - Select
2nd: Left click – Copy
3rd: Right click – Select Destination
4th: Left click – Paste

Voila… you have an MBA ready here. Is this seriously what my forefathers envisioned for their future generations?

As these thoughts buzz in and out of my head, my eyes open slowly. Saket is invariably standing on top of my head… shouting my name. Urging me to wake up so that his moral obligation towards me as a roomie is satisfied. I thank him in true Mumbhaiya ishtyle by asking him to shut the %^$& up. My sleep is broken but I roll in bed for another 15 minutes to acclimatize myself to this new found consciousness. By doing so my wake up time is stretched a little ahead and I can cheat by saying that Kallu is not the first thing I saw on this beautiful day. He aint bad looking or anything. It’s just that he he’s nowhere close to the dream I was in. Atleast his face isn’t half as bad as the ass cracks you’ll see early morning while travelling in Bombay trains.

Having woken up I go to my cell phone and turn the radio on. There’s is only one radio station in this god forsaken student’s city. So much for consumer choice. Bollywood comes to Pune as some hindi song is played out. I start humming to the tunes of some damsel in the best falsetto that I can produce. At my best I am comparable to K.L.Saigal. We both seem to cry while singing. I am sure that earlier generations which heard his songs would beg to differ.

With the setting taken care of I proceed to iron clothes that refuse to shed their wrinkles. These are the marks that have been left behind after all those hours of abuse they have been through while covering my body. As I waste a further 15 minutes other scenes are being enacted in the household.

Saket – our wonderful housewife, the one certified early bird of our household. If it weren’t for him the rest of us would’ve never turned up for any lecture before lunch time. His day begins whenever he has to wake Shloke up. After seeing off his favourite member of the buddy program with a French kiss he wakes us up and goes for his ritualistic bath. I and Banta are invariably still asleep when he’s come out from his bath while Ritesh is busy brushing and tending to his French beard. He once again wakes us up by saying the magical words “ Its 9’o clock guys. Getting late for the 1st lecture.”

Banit finally wakes up and roams around the house in true zombie style. As a golden rule we let him be. No one generally tries to engage him in conversation as its as futile as finding a girl for Tuktuk. We know he’s taking his cold water bath (Audrey Hepburn only bathed in cold water) when we get to hear the singing of this iconic bathroom singer. I bow to thee master. Bath over, clothes worn, he proceeds to do the single most time consuming activity of his daily life – tying his turban. Twenty square feet of prime property is taken away as he spreads his pagdi. I am left wondering as to why we don’t charge him extra rent every month.

All this while, Ritesh is watching us. He undoubtedly takes the quickest shower ever.
Think he only spends around 3 minutes doing so. A larger time period is spent when he takes a crap. It’s largely due to the conscious efforts of this voracious reader that we have a beautiful bathroom cum library. Rest of us have the options of choosing from the latest ET, TOI, India Today and Business World when we dump. He then proceeds to do an ‘”Aarti” (not do Aarti you pervert) as incense sticks are lit. I feel nice about this ritual as I imagine other homes where cigarette sticks are being lit.

Cant ask for a more eventful start to another day in paradise. Can I ??

Old Monk

0300 hours
15th January, 2006:

“I’ll write a blog on this one if China makes it.”

0300 hours
16th January, 2006:

I am not Chetan Bhagat, but the point is that these words were stated by me jokingly and I am in the process of implementing this stupid promise as I sit next to Pankaj in room 313, Joshi Hospital.

The party was on 14th night. Everyone seemed to be in high spirits—literally and figuratively. I don’t remember more about the party. More than anything else I care not to do so at this point of time.

I do remember getting a call at 0211 hours. My phone showed the number as that belonging to China. He had gone to drop Uppu home a little while earlier. He had called me up thrice in the night before asking for directions to my place and I wondered if he was lost again. The guy on the other line said hello and told me that he was Nikhil. He said that my friend had an accident and his nose was bleeding. I couldn’t believe my ears and seriously thought it was some king of a prank. A really sad prank. I asked him twice again and understood from his tone that he wasn’t lying. I prayed for Uppu as I asked if a girl was with him. He said no and I became as happy as any man could be under such circumstances.

An army of able bodied men (some sane and other’s half drunk) was quickly assembled and crammed into two cars as we drove to the accident spot. An ambulance was waiting when we arrived and Saket accompanied Baruah to the hospital as the cars followed. Fafu stayed back to take care of the bike. Baruah’s consciousness was a huge relief and the injuries seemed to be of external nature.

Meanwhile there was trouble brewing at the motorcycle front. The cops had figured out that it was a case of drunken driving and had confiscated the bike at the station. Son of the soil – Sam was pressed into action and he came through in flying colours as he got the bike back having paid a paltry sum of 400 bucks. Jai Maharashtra.

The CT scan verified that the extent of injuries was minimal. It surprisingly also showed that Baruah had a brain even though its visible in them that his brain houses things that remind you of a pig, fish and a butterfly. Think that explains all his jumanji brainwaves.

There seemed to be greater trouble at the party than at the station or hospital. Alex wanted to break rum bottles. Anna continued her tradition of puking at parties thrown at my house. Vishay and Jatin wouldn’t stop playing carrom. Mrs.Karve had started shouting and practically held court through her monologue. Priya wanted to play with my toy train. Hearing about Baruah’s state most people decided not to venture out of the place and they slept over until they were transported back in the safety of four wheeled transportation.

At the hospital we hung around the car park and discussed varied topics ranging from our admission process, other institute’s, symbi girls, etc. Nikhil kept us going by getting free milk and coffee which he somehow removed from the vending machine.

It was decided that a minor surgery would need to be done to stitch his facial cuts. It must have lasted for 20 odd minutes and by the time it was over his fan following had arrived as word spread like a wildfire. Those brilliant set of dentures that were so very well maintained by a strict diet of ITC cigarettes had lost two of its members in the surgery as they had been shattered in the accident.

Everyone kept asking me as to how Baruah was. I kept saying that he was fine and there was no problem whatsoever. A slight hesitance still remained as I had not met Baruah after the surgery. This query was answered once and for all when I saw him in flesh, blood and spirit.

The doctor…ahem…Ms. Joshi had come to meet Baruah. Having done her bit she left. Baruah’s sly wink as he saw her exiting indicated well enough that he fancied her and that this party was not over yet. It stated implicitly that he was doing well and the rascal we had grown to love was going to do well enough. “Kyun Baruah…Theek hain naa?”

Yagga’s, Alex’s and Fafu’s BAI

Had been hearing horror stories about d world famous BAI in Pune for over a month now. Yup the same one who enters C-2, Vikas Co-op. Hsg. Soc. at 0830 hrs and all hell breaks loose. Two lazy asses are plucked out of bed and churned into action the minute she spanks their ass and mumbles in undecipherable marathi “ Aye uth re, kai zhopto”. (Get up you dumb%^&@, why are you sleeping?). I personally believe that Alex wakes up nice and early simply because he wants to escape this early morning alarm that cannot be snoozed away.

Ok...getting back to basics…this bull headed woman…bullish woman actually works at OM super market as a SECURITY GUARD at night and as a BAI through the day.

The first story that I heard about her was about the time when she bajaoed Yagga really hard on his back and ordered the guys to wear their windcheaters before venturing out into d rain soaked outdoors. Apparently they were standing in d balcony waiting for the rain to subside so that they could step out (not Step In you freak) and go to the boring classroom. Think she just hastened their learning process.

Soon enough Alex was declared 2 b in group#1 for the outbound and he left the two ripe lambs to the hungry lioness. To get the true picture try and imagine Fafu and Yagga
Praying to the Lord for mercy as they bade farewell to Alex…who was busy singing BSB songs with his ROCKing A Div friends. I am sure these two idiots were singing “ You are my fire, the one desire” in their hearts to Alex. The sole channel of communication that had linked them to her for all this while had been cut off. The umbilical cord had been removed and the babies were forced to step up to the plate.

Fresh spanking stories were relived when they would try adjusting their bruised asses on the not so comfy classroom chairs. Stories…that seem to border on folklore now…that talk about how these freaks could not understand anything that went on in their house for the next 2 days.

She would bark things which seemed like expletives and they’d wonder how they had screwed up. Then she’d burst out into laughter and they would do the same.

Laughing is the only thing they shared in common…she beamed at her own jokes… they at the fact that she was happy…at the fact that the world was more rosier now… at their fate which they were resigned to.

Few days passed.. their butts hardened and got used to the mauling.. consequently the cries that resounded in and around Shivaji Nagar toned down. The BAI had turned them into stronger men who could withstand any level of pain…a fact that became apparent when Yagga got into I-PAT… S-PAT would have been mad to think they could stress him out after everything that he goes through every morning…Alex got into Six Sigma and was happily breaking bricks with consummate ease until he got into J-PAT with Fafu... Jatin got into Six Sigma too.. the one nemesis she couldn’t break down.

9th July, 2005
2230 hours:

The daily meeting of Alchoholics Com is in progress at Apache’s on a cloudy Saturday night. Fafu is leaving for Chennai… apparently for business purposes… methinks it’s to check with a world famous butt specialist down south. The registered members retired to the haunted house for another round of drinks later on. We all sang, drank, made merry and waited with bated breath for the bewitching hour to strike us down with all its ferocity.

Yours truly left for football practice by 0600 hrs but got details of what transpired. I suppose this is how it all played out: (with little masala mirchi thrown in for literary purposes)

10th July, 2005
0815 hours:

Lightening strikes, the earth shivers as the seemingly T-REX like being makes her way to the smaller beings who rank much lower in the food chain and have proved to be easy meals in the past. Meanwhile.. the alchohlics sleep peacefully.. oblivious to the danger that fast approaches them.

She opens the door to the flat.. glass shatters as Stone Cold’s music can be heard in the background. First in sight mussve been Yagga... one whack and he must have sat upright in his rum soaked bed (thanks to me)… next target Alex… sly rascal must have woken up by now… she moves up into the room to whack blackboy (how could she have thought Jatin was Fafu?)

Strike#1..Strike#2..Strike#3.. you are out of here!!!!

Alex steps out of the loo to hear wailing cries and howling. He thought Jatin had been christened but what he sees totally spellbounds him. The BAI… the one insurmountable peak is crumbling into bits.. she’s bent over Jatin.. howling… pleading almost… to wake him up.

Alex- the knight in shining armour… zips his pant shut and comes to her rescue. He tells her that she is pitted against the new age Kumkaran and not the pushover that Fafu is. To prove his point he shows her all the 50 Cents, Snoop Dog, Sean Paul, Daler Mehendi et all posters that are plastered in Fafu’s part of the room. She’s convinced and her belief is strengthened when she closely monitors Jatin. The Steelers cap, Laker’s jersey, Spalding shorts and every other shiny bit which only says bling bling.

She’s happy that her Fafu hasn’t abandoned rock… happy that the house of rock she visits everyday is still the same at heart… happy that Fafu shall come back one day and the posters shall come down.

3 days go by… Fafu is woken up not by a spank but a warm hug by the BAI who sings classic rock herself-“ you are my fire, the one desire”. He faints.

Few days pass by.. we all sit at the House of Rock which is threatening to turn into Jatin’s Hip Hop Hub. He’s singing Songs About Jane (not really you rock stud). He’s singing Punjabi folk songs and thinks he can fool us by saying “paranthe” when he forgets lyrics. Hungry bunnies that we are.. we decide to go to Chaitanya. Alex, Jatin and Fafu leave in the first rick that chugs along.

As I and Yagga wait for an auto his BAI crosses over and says “kai re, kai kartos”(what man, what u doing?). Yagga nods his head from east to west as though he connected with everything that she said. She gives a toothless grin and walks away.

I look at her going away with an umbrella clutched in her left hand. Her gait is similar to that of a sumo wrestler. The umbrella is akin to a baton.. ready to knock down the fool who would dare to engage her in physical combat. Don’t think there are many such fools around—she’s not the type you would want to meet in a dark alley at night.

3-4 days go by and Saturday is here again. Another hectic week of Gaand Maru assignments has passed by.. Phew ! We all assemble as per the pre determined calendar of Alchoholics.com @HR (House of Rock). Seems like there are a few new members who have registered by paying the requisite fees of their own booze. Most of the new fellas leave before the dozing hour and the usual culprits stay over.

It’s a tequila sunrise. I am awakened by laughter which comes from Fafu’s side of the room. I wake up and turn around in bed to see Pinky, Alex, Fafu and Jatin ( Jatin?? Is it 4 p.m already) smiling while they watch Alex’s lappie. On the left is the Tooth Fairy… smiling along. I am stunned but too sleepy to wake up. I mumble something in English so that she doesn’t get offended and doze off again.

I have no clue as to how much time passed but am awakened a little while later. This time its Fafu alone with the BAI. The others are gone. Fafu seems scared. I fear for my life wondering as to how she ate them all.

He asks me whether I can understand her. I commit the biggest mistake of my life. I make Eye Contact with her. She points towards the bottles and ciggies next to Yagga’s bed and mumbles something. I nod my head. Stuck now Goddammit… Fafu you sly little $#%$^. She seems to be referring to last night’s marathon drinking session and whether skinny boy Yagga had any role in it. I say YESSS!!! and shift the focus to him.

She goes over to him and wakes him up the way only she can. Wham! Boom! Kaboom! In two minutes Yagga’s life comes crashing down as he is face to face with the BAI. Fafu and I give out an evil laughter… copying her everytime she does so… happy that it’s not us who’s under fire.

She’s going on and on about him being super skinny.. thereby unable to take in large doses of alchohol. She rants about giving up smoking and drinking. Reminds us that we are students and must involve ourselves in activities of academic nature. Think she repeats herself umpteen times over. Yagga keeps nodding his head patiently… too stricken to react to anything this early in the morning… least of all her. Given a choice I think he wouldn’t mind attending an MTM double lecture instead of going through this.

The ordeal comes to an end when she shuts the door behind her while leaving. We all go back to our sweet dreams and it’s a beautiful day once again.

Eckjhecutive Sumari

This comes almost live from one of the best B-schools in India - S.I.B.M (please don’t snicker). It will almost always get delayed because I am unable to pick my lazy ass off the couch. On other occasions it might be because I was doing work for a change.

These articles shall include loads and loads of inside jokes that other’s came up with. You would not want to read the bad PJ’s I come up with. It’s bad enough that these guys have to hear them. I already carry the guilt of turning people deaf. Don’t want them to go blind now.

In case you are unable to understand any of the jokes or aren’t clued into the events that have transpired in college then feel free to post a comment and I might be considerate enough to explain it. Please do not use any of these filthy stories anywhere. I have exclusive copyrights over them. Please excuse me for being over the top.

I would like to thank truck loads of people without whose active support and inspiration I might have never blogged. You know who all to kill now:

Mrs.Tongaonkar- nursery teacher who taught me a-b-c...x-y-z butter on bread…if you don’t eat it Mayur will.

Aptech- for teaching me MS-Office

Mummy, Daddy, Chotu, Family, Friends, Family of Friends and other Friendly Families.

Nikhil Narayanan aka Pandu/ Gandu/ Pinky- thanks for starting the blog culture in college. You have been the inspiration for all us wannabe’s who follow in your footsteps.

Rohit Jain- Editor-in-Cheap ( Free Labour)

S.I.B.M - for giving us so much free time for velagiri.

Backbencher’s Association of the erstwhile ‘C’ Division - for showing me the way to cope with the pressure’s of B-School.

CAT Lovers (Yagga esp.) who just love to Meow.

Other Sibm’ites whose jokes are CCP’d out here big time. Thanks for having some sense of humour.