And so begins...

As stupid as this may sound, I actually love following my Orkut fortune widget on the Home page. And, after a series of Google Easter Eggs, like 'The man who reads your fortune is on vacation. Try visiting someone's profile instead', my cookie suggested two days ago, 'Now is the time to try something new'. Frustrated as I was with my ever-the-same poor preparation for the end-sems, the want for some good news made me trash the usually-interesting cookie, and go renew my affair with Minesweeper, which, I may inform you, is one of the most brilliant games of all time!

Late into the night, though, the Orkut Home page somehow wandered back into my mind and I decided it really was time for trying something new- but not momentarily. Instead, I wanted to start a tradition- one that would stand for some time to come, and one that people, even if they only were a handful, would remember and associate me with. And, as I smiled to myself waiting for the time to come when I would begin this not-so-grand exercise, my scatterbrain took over again and I found myself thinking about the Fantasy Premier League while trying to remember the features of some strange-looking w(h)att-meters...

The best part about exam-time is that my mind always happens to cook up wonderfully pleasant theories about which pair of socks would go with my sweater, without contrasting too much with my sandals. The sad part is I'm not supposed to do so with the sword of Damocles hanging precariously over my head.

The best part about winter is that I sleep like a log, and dreams are longer, and more enjoyable, and, most importantly, more remnant, in this season. The sad part is the insti happens to schedule exams at the same time, and your slot happens to be the 9 a.m. one.

It's been a pleasing week thus far, the best being today when I happened to meet a very old friend, who now is 12 time-zones away, on Facebook and nostalgia has been the only thing in my mind, since then. I love Facebook, by the way. I joined a month or so ago, and I love wasting time on the dumb movie quizzes. But, Orkut is my first love...

My exams start tomorrow, and, I haven't forgotten, dear reader, of the tradition I spoke of at the beginning of this post. From today, I shall post on the eve of every set of exams I write at the insti. That means 21 more, at least. That way you'll have a post to look forward to before every time you feel jobless before that sham begins. Oops, I almost forgot- I've got non-insti readers, too. Or, at least, I'm trying to get some. So, that guarantees three posts every 6 months. That'll mean I can, if I stick to this tradition, get close to two-and-half score posts on this webpage by the time I graduate- or pass out, as popular usage would go!

I guess I'll get back to studying, now, before I make it more exams than scheduled to post before! So long, patient reader! Good night, and wish me good luck!

P.S.- Dela, I do love Lefty, I'd like to remind, assuming you are getting a sense of deja vu.

Love, logic and long phone calls...

Useless info- This post was ready an hour after the last one, but wasn't posted till date because of the very few comments on the last one. I've decided to post it anyway considering that the fall in readership from 10 to 5 is like po-tay-to po-taa-to.

Reliance Telecom is one smart company. It sure knows where to make its money- the bastions of young, smitten couples. And what better place than the insti! I guess Reliance's Uttarakhand unit makes more than half its turnover from here, especially this year's must've been markedly higher. With many taking the step from 'just good friends' to 'not a moment without you', the need for staying in telephonic contact cutting across barriers of distance has resulted in many new Reliance handset boxes making their appearance on study-tables, with the first recharge being the omnipotent Rs. 496 pack, which basically translates to free STD calling. And, dear-oh-dear, the innovations this development's led to has left conservative, not-committed-but-oh-so-jealous people (striking example- the author) open-mouthed. Most of the nerds around don't really give two hoots, the guys hooked up in the insti are satisfied with their prevailing connections- Nescafe is their temple, and others think Sergey Brin and Larry Page decided to go into the Internet business only to serve their purpose!

I mentioned innovations? Sometime in the past fortnight, I was playing Bingo in class (as always) when the Scuttling Shuttler decided to take a look at the AoE-addict Ace and me shooting away numbers at each other, interspersed with triumphant yelps of 'Bingo!'. Taking time off his PJ-cracking, SS asks us to teach him the game, and after a few hundred seconds, we three are at it while the professor merrily goes on rattling about some 731 arbit types of galvanometers, unheard beyond the six people under his nose. Later in the day, SS is seen on his newly-installed (you guessed it right) Reliance phone explaining the rules. Interesting. But, what happens later is even more intereshting. It's two in the morning, when I'm roaming around looking for company to go to the canteen, when I see SS sitting highly pleased on his bed, pen and paper in front of him, playing Bingo with his opponent a full 500 miles away! And, he later adds with a huge smile on his face, 'I let her win every game!'

This story, of course, took place long after the Sassy Sage got his Reliance connection. SS-2, though, remained loyal to his Airtel phone- for the free STD messaging pack, which helped him stay in touch during classes, until it unfortunately got stolen, only to be faithfully replaced by my number! SS-2, though, is now hooked to Gmail, I believe with the new video chat option being given first preference, but only as long as the erratic Wi-Fi connection plays fair.

I, though, fail to understand all this hullabaloo to stay in touch. I guess, the best part of a long-distance relationship is the very fact that it is long-distance, making continous contact difficult-yes- but making every single meeting once in three months or so, very very special. Also, although as cliched as it does sound, it is the absence of a person that makes you realise their significance. And, again, talking everyday might as well lead to more and more utterances of 'Aur bata' and 'Kuch khaas nahi', leaving very little to talk about. For the best example, take these blogs. I would rarely ever get something to post about everyday!

But, then, as the Perusing Poet likes to put it, 'You won't realise this until you fall in love, my geeky friend'. Yeah, right! Fat chance of any sane female interested in bearing my chatter for anything more than a few seconds! PP thinks it's the perennial concern, that shows in the regular phone calls, which strengthens a relationship more than any corny lines or mushy poems. It's the very fact that you care, that urges you to press that number time and time again, that helps you stay up all night to talk to that one special person. I still believe the only people I can talk on the phone for more than an hour are Big B and Mom. And my cellphone expenses rarely cross two hundred bucks a month. It's totally illogical for me- talking to the very same person every night for at least a couple of hours with essentially nothing new to tell.

PP inters, 'Love doesn't go by logic... And, of all people, you talking of logic is quite a paradox. An SRK fan, who doesn't think Prisoner of Azkaban is the best of the seven, who thinks Catherine Zeta-Jones is way better than Genelia D'Souza, and is still actually crazy about his high-school crush who, quite obviously, defies all the parameters of his own SSB funda... You know what seperates us from apes- the fact that we think, and analyse things, and form a clear perspective, a unique perspective. You, in the most common cases, don't do that. And, one fine day, you come along with your 'logical analysis' to say love is illogical. Of all things possible, you chose love...'

To be honest, I think PP was right for most things. I do not tend to think about things- I just do them. I do not tend to analyse books or movies or music- I just like them or I don't really like them. There's not got to be a well-thought-out reason for me- just the fact that I like it or not. I can't really explain why I adore SRK and his movies so much, or why I like American Desi so much, or why I find The Goblet of Fire better, or why I'm a Manchester United fan, or why my favourite colour is red- I just go by primal instinct. I just dig Catherine Zeta-Jones. I just like to talk...

Footnote- All the best to all I know who're writing CAT. And, for the record, PP and SS-1, are some of the best guys I've met at the insti so far.
And, I am single, and ready to sing a jingle.

P.S.- For once, I hope, the title does manage to attract a few eyeballs...

Late edit- I was kindly informed by SS-1 that the Rs. 496 pack is now defunct. What they all have is the 600-odd rupees pack, for free STD calling to Reliance numbers for two months.

Long time, no see...

Alright. It's been a while since I last managed to bug you with my whining, grumbling or my brilliant sense of humour. 25 days, to be precise. But, this has been a period of change for your truly. 10 days after the last post, I happened to receive my personal computer, or, if I am to indulge in some shameless bragging, my ultra-fast, uber-cool and supremely brilliant (configuration and performance-wise) personal computer. And, it's only a matter of time, before I start getting accused of lack of social activity since its arrival, which might as well be a reason for the inactivity of this very page.

Now, I wouldn't delve into a SriPri or Dela-esque post wondering why I haven't posted in a while, or a Lefty-ish post listing all the wonderful things to have occurred during this hiatus. Not that I dislike doing that; I'm just too lazy. And forgetful.

My sheer joblessness has reduced me to sitting on Chehra ka Kitaab (which always reminds me of that song from Baazigar) with no one else online, sifting between the 'Home' and 'Profile' tabs when not gawking. This, more often than not, results in either me posting, or publicising the blog. As indolent as I've been to type anything longer than a few four-line verses, I chose to do the latter. And, it has actually resulted in something positive, after all. Apart from praise, friends getting nostalgic, and a few cases of nausea, people have actually started taking interest in the blog, even recommending topics for posts. Now, here comes one which I had thought of right at the beginning of this semester before I became too involved in it to remember.

Age of Empires (AoE) had, by the end of the second semester, become quite a fad in our year, so much so that it actually became a significant parameter for the choice of hostels. But, as luck would have it, the branch-wise allotment system led to all Electrical guys being forced to set up base in Azad. But, also as luck would have it, some of the more addicted gamers in the year above ours also happened to move into Azad, resulting in the creation of a huge following and addiction for the game. When I say 'addiction', I mean it.

No meal of the day would have a non-AoE conversation. Strategies, analysis of the previous game, predictions for the next, discussions and a myriad other related things were the order of the day. Chats, even spoken conversations, would be generously littered with spatterings of GG (good game), 11 (AOE chat lingo for laughter), 8 ("All hail, King of the Losers") and other numbers and abbreviations, making normal people (like thou, for a certain period of time) rack their brains.

Now, though, with half the wing playing the game, and the other half too used to it to bother, the aura surrounding the topic has slowly dulled, the LAN installation, removal, and reinstallation being flashes in the pan.

Meanwhile, I also happened to discover that concentrating isn't a tough job. 'Spirit walks', the name stolen from a popular TV series, the idea from Paddy, is this brilliant thing I've discovered which actually lets me think about pin-point issues- an ability whose absence has been felt severely, and mostly reflects clearly in my writing, me being such a scatter-brain.

The other day, a spirit walk went a little astray, with me wandering off to the corner of Azad Bhawan, barely able to hear the chatter at Ravindra Canteen, with Bhupi's voice clearly audible in the now-chilly night air. I went up to the wall and ran my hands over the shreds of broken glass embedded in cement. The instinctive urge to touch those sharp edges surprised me. I started to think of heights, and how I feel it completely natural to imagine falling- not the part where I hit the ground, it's too gory for my fraidie-cat self- it's the idea of falling, going down with gravity, that, well, fascinates me. But, then, the crazy mind of mine began to evaluate the source of the broken glass- light bulbs, broken windows, used tumblers, and whiskey bottles! Yeah, at least all that boozing comes to some use!

Just for the record, a busy Thomso passed by in the weeks gone by, and so did an uneventful Diwali, apart from the night being lighted up by the electrifying guitar scene in one of the most legendary movies of all-time, Karzzzz (It's four Zs, according to the initial publicity promos of the movie).

P.S.- (As promised) Special acknowledgement for the Electrical kholu, for giving an idea for the first half of the post.