Go Bhilai Gone

I know it's very late to rant and cry about PS now, but hell, how else can I pass my 100% natural and free and room-delivered tanning time on a day-off? So here goes my PS die-ry.

So, the PS is the place where we finally get to meet those lucky students, who don't have to give thousands of varied explanations for their college's name, geographical location, origin, history, background, affiliation, credentials and other fun-trivia to every questioning passerby, in short, the BITS-Pians. And it's good to see that there's isn't much intellectual difference between us and the Pilani people (as popularly assumed (in Pilani)) except that we don't think about camels when we hear the word 'hump'. 

Anyways, let's desert the stereotypes and move on with what happened next. So, we, the Chemical Engineers, had to begin by exploring the Coke-Oven (interior temperature = 1600-1800°C ) on the first day. The sign-board, hiding amongst a clutter of shitty safety slogans, at about 0.5km from the main gate, said "Coke Oven and CCD  3.5km". A shiver of ecstasy ran through our spines; we had a damn CCD inside! And thus with this shimmering ray of hope, we dragged ourselves through the Lava-is-in-the-air surroundings beside Blast Furnaces, took lift from a My-grandpa-can-sleepwalk-faster crane, made it across the dense Fart'll-be-more-fragrant atmosphere of coke-oven gas, and finally reached the destination. There, we met the head of the Coal Handling section who turned out to be a very enthusiastic person. His every word a pearl of positivity, every act a gem of generosity.

He:  Aap kaunse college se ho?
We: BITS Pilani, Go.. (owing to previous experiences) BITS, Sir.
He:  Achha! Ye kaunsa NIT hai?
We: (uncomfortably long awkward pause) Private hai Sir, ye NITs mein nahin aata.
He:  Branch kya hai?  

We: B.E. Chemical Engineering, Sir.

He:  Chemical Engineering? (guffaws) Chemical kyun liye?
We: Liye kya Sir. Mila. (no, that's what we thought, we actually said->) Bahut scope hai Sir.
He:  Achha! Mein bhi Chemical Engineer hoon. Mera kya scope hai?

We: (a 2 minute 'What the...' moment, then a sensitive Chemical guy aggressively responds) Kyun nahin hai  
         Sir? Petrochemicals, polymers, biotechnology, nano-materials, pharmaceuticals, synthetic textiles... aur     

         Research mein bhi scope hai.
He: (still unconvinced as ever) Ab yeh to apna-apna choice hai. 

And then he explained us various processes under his supervision as we scribbled on our diaries while silently salivating and desperately daydreaming about brownies and frappes we were going to have. Finally he ended his speech with a-

He:  Koi doubt hai?
We: Sir, yahaan CCD kahaan hai?
He:  Arey aaj jaana nahin hoga.
We: (with choked throats) Kyon Sir?
He: Aaj Coke-oven and Chemical Department ke DGM nahin aaye hain.

Complete. Pin-drop. Silence. Except for a clock hauntingly ticking in the background.

Moral of the Story: Chemical Engineering mein scope hai.

And after a dehydrating and disappointing day, FB finally adds the decomposed icing on the decaying cake, by showcasing how people around the world are performing awesome feats while I lie here reading 'Yo Mama' jokes on the net. (In my defense, I'm reading those on Quora, so that makes me elite by default.)
Let me elaborate:

(a) Well, BITS Goa has yet again proved itself to be very coding-conscious as in how people here know more about G-SoC than G-Spot. (Now you're Googling, dammit!)

(b) And then some are flashing their glowing GPAs. And CGPAs. And the growth of their GPAs. And the histograms of their CDC grades. And their attendance-to-GPA ratios. And logarithms of individual semester (GPA/CGPA). And inverse tangents of (GPA x 12th Board %). And a hyperbolic of.... Well why don't they just post their ERP passwords?

(c) Lastly, some are proclaiming to have an amazing PS. Now 'amazing PS' is an oxy(you)moron! Get with it.

Well I understand, that this all has been done with an intensely innocent intention of sharing your happiness with the world because you're too excited to hold on to it yourself. Just like how a suicide-bomber can't help but share his religious sentiments with others. *Boom*

So to sum up, the only good thing about the PS is going home on a Sunday. For me. Which is 3 hours away by train. (C'mon I'm just sharing my happiness here!) Preferably in a general compartment. Preferably, because, a general compartment has its own share of joys:

(a) Nostalgia hits you black-and-blue as the guy beside you plays Govinda songs (c/o blaring-mobile-phone-speakers) with lyrics so mentally stimulating, they put Yoyo Honey Singh's poetry to shame; songs like, "Mein Laila Laila chillaunga Kurta Faadke" (Translation: "Laila Laila" will I shout, tearin.. Okay forget it.)

(b) You get so high by passively smoking beedi after beedi, you might as well freak your wits out seeing outside the window saying, "Holy Shit! The trees are running!"

It's another story that Mom doesn't like it when I show up looking like a piece of coke dipped in a glass of coke. But it's okay. As long as I ain't abandoned for Angelina to adopt.

So now, it's time I end this envious entry, with a very sweet, noteworthy and helpful message I came across at the Steel Plant Main Gate, which has been imprinted in my mind since. And before I leave, I do hope that you all follow and share it to make this world a brighter and a better place. So here it goes:

Safety At Plant 

For

    Safe Tea* At Home    

*No, I didn't add the underline. 

  

 

Done With It.

Ignorance is bliss.
Unless you are reminded of it, repeatedly, without a pause, for 3 hours straight, in a closed room, with a screwed up AC, thrice a week.

Coming out of the exam-hall feels like watching the end-credits of Man vs Wild. Yes, there's so much in common in those episodes and this experience, as in, how our answers correspond to those dense forests: senseless, directionless and full of shit. You can hear animals making eerie, terrifying sounds like, "Sir! Additional Sheet!", yet, can't kill them due to some legal obligations. And in the climax, you realize how your only accomplishment is just that you've survived. (Of course, before remembering the fact that this is going to happen all over again.)

And strangely when writing an exam, it's not the peeking student, who wants to check out your views and opinions about the Carbon Content in Malleable Cast Iron, who annoys you, but a mocking professor who laughs at your answer with an expression of, "Seriously? That was the best thing you could come up with?" And you silently respond with, "Well. Sort of, yeah. But there's a killer twist in the end."

And as if the tests weren't enough, there's this merciless act of paper-distribution which almost feels like the prof's comeback on the joke that your paper was. Here, they assign a number to show your relative proximity to being an academic Titanic. And believe me, it hurts, when the teacher and her assistant look at you and then exchange knowing smiles, telepathically stating, "Remember that dumbass answer we laughed at for like, 1 hour? It's his."    

But the highlight was the POM exam, which made all students realize that the M in the name actually stood for Memory and not Management, contrary to popular opinion, as that was what they had essentially tested. Well, how else can one justify asking us to write the fourteen principles of *forgot, will soon check*, when the only time we correctly answered ten things in the right order was when our relatives asked us the name of our college? But the best part of the paper was the Case Study of a guy called Rohit and his TDC boss Ashish, which looked like lyrics lifted off some One Direction song, a paragraph in which went like this:

He smiled to himself when he thought of how Ashish would react when told about his several possible solutions to the problem. He was sure Ashish would be happy with him, having put in so much effort into the project, right from day one. Rohit was daydreaming about all the praise that he was going to get when Ashish walked into the office. He waited for him to go into his workplace, and after five minutes, called him up, asking to see him. Then Rohit went to his office, where, after a long awkward silence, they eventually made out. 

Well, sorry! I made up the making out part (Ob) but the rest of it is for real! And I bet the paper would be a lot more interesting if they had ended the questions that followed, like this:

Q. What can a team leader do to ensure high levels of motivation among his/her team members?

So, yes, I have now officially given up on Compre and can't wait to splash my ignorance towards worldly matters like Heat Transfer, Mass Transfer, etc-coz-I-don't-remember-the-rest, all over PS too.

And if any of the readers are feeling bad for relating with this post, well, chill! At least, you are not going to Ramagundam (avg-summer-temperature=45°C), to work at a Thermal Power Station, in peak summer; thus abbreviating PS to 'Pain in the S'. (Assuming that those going there for PS, are too busy cursing their karma for eating a barbecue chicken once, to read this post.)    

So, wishing you Happy-PS/vacations depending on whether you are going to be completely jobless. Or, at home. And to the rest, see you at Bhilai!  


     

Inspiration & Stuff

So, I was busy lazying around this one month trying to realize my purpose and goals in life. Seriously. It has been my most unproductive semester in the campus with no electives, valley-low attendance and scuba-diving C**A. Yes, it sucks, when you say "CDCs" and people think you are stating your mid-sem grades. And when that too is, unfortunately, true. So, somehow I tried to get out of this sulky mood and started watching inspirational videos on DC. Now, here are the reasons why you shouldn't watch inspirational videos when you are desperately in need of inspiration:

(a) Zero relatability- : "Holy Trinity! When that one-legged black guy, with partial paralysis and traces of cancer, with a side dish of herpes, whose wife divorced him, twice, leaving him homeless in two installments, can skateboard through a turbulent tornado by directly cutting across a rainbow and bouncing off a volcano, why can't I study for my test which is in like, fifteen minutes?", felt no one ever.

(b) Background music- So the inspiring guy in the video starts with a narration of his sad beginnings. There are violins and flutes playing. Good enough. He lays the foundation of his success story. Violins and cellos again. Okay. He encounters many hurdles and overcomes all. The damn flute makes a guest appearance amidst the violins and cellos this time. Damn!. Then comes the dramatic climax and the hero finally steals the show. Violins. Cellos. Flutes. Again. Now where the hell are the bass guitars when we really need them?

(c) Temporary Arousal- Sometimes we do feel motivated but that phase lasts for only about 59 seconds after watching the video. Just like the way you feel like screwing bulbs into every damn socket visible, for a day after watching Swades or how you dream of repeatedly pushing Abhishek Bachhan into all waterfalls and canyons, for a month after watching Raavan. But after sometime you'll be back to your usual/useless self.

I don't know much about the inspirational books as I have read just one "You can win", and yes, it surely helped to score in my board exams. I used it to write an essay on a book I had recently read and learnt nothing from. I still think I should have read something else to feel high and happy, but then, "Fifty Shades of Grey" wasn't yet published.  


So how to come out of this illogical depression and get your act together to do something worth doing? Well here are some tips I have recently learnt (Okay I hate writing philosophical stuff, still):

(a) Avoid Assholes Always. Assholes come in all shapes and sizes and live camouflaged around you. But there's a reason nature considered only one of it enough for survival. Assholes are just like black-holes, only that instead of matter and light, they totally suck out your positive energy until you are degraded morally, and start taking lite in all matters. Hence stay as far from them as possible; and never give anyone a chance to bring you down. Even if it is an elevator. Because it shows how frigging lazy you are to not walk to the floor below.     

(b) Know your Strengths. Yes, you might have heard/read many times about knowing your weaknesses. Well, screw it. The society has already been doing the job of reminding us of our drawbacks quite well. So it's time to concentrate on your pros and show what you're a pro in, rather than being conned into despair by your inadequacies. So the next time some discouraging soul acts like a pain in the neck, shove your awesomeness so deep down his throat, he wouldn't even be able to puke without praising you.

(c) Forget Time Tables. We all have in our lives tried out laying out detailed schedules of the activities to be done the following week, which we have miserably failed to follow. But things should be done, when you really feel like doing it, to get the most productive results. Besides deadlines and due-dates, you need not always stick to a plan and extinguish the spur of the moment. And you know what, even the Joker feels the same.
   
(d) Give it a Shot. Anything good is definitely worth an attempt. As life is too long to fear a petty failure and too short to not do your liking and regret later. And even if you fail, hide the sad story until you succeed. Then, you can use it to spice up your Oscar Winning Speech or in your autobiography or in an interview or... okay whatever, just remember the damn thing.

(e) Be Positive. Enough said.

And with this I would like to close the scroll and promise never to preach again. As for the Compre, we'll anyhow manage it as always; and in the meanwhile, join the Pool Party Facebook Event, even if you haven't come, just to look cool in front of your friends from other colleges. Yes, you may study now.   

Batons & Baltis

Yeah, it's that time of the year again, when the 3rd year people dust off their responsibilities and let the juniors get dirty. So, 'Passing on the batons', as they call it, is basically the act of turning few core-members into coordinators, helping them accomplish their long-held dream of dining at VGH wearing suits; while the borderline-fortunate are granted posts like Hypothetical Head, Nonsensical Head, Psychological Head, Empirical Head, Ironical Head etc And the rest are given an imaginary balti to cry over while they ponder upon the futility of their lives.

Well these selections happen in various ways. Interviews are involved in most cases and so are SOPs (Statement Of Power-hungriness) In the SOP, you are asked to write what you have done/ pretended to have done/ accredited to yourself what someone else has done, for the department/club. And also, why you feel you are the only deserving person in the Milky Way and the neighboring Andromeda region, capable of holding that post. The second question is obviously answered in the most honest and sincerest way possible, with the applicant humbly recounting all his/her virtues and merits, real and probable. In short, if egotism wiped off, SOP would be its toilet-paper.

Then comes the interview part, where the applicant is questioned by the previous coordination committee on his ideas, opinions, interests, cuisine preferences, views on liberalism, religious beliefs, past medical history and so on. Here is an excerpt from one such interview I eavesdropped into-

Senior- So, what has been your contribution to the department?
Junior- I've devotedly attended all the 5 outings and have contributed Rs 200 for my food and transport. But seriously I'm too bored of always going to Bogmallo for the outings now. Seriously. It has been so many times, that nowadays whenever John sees me entering his shack he is like, 'Dude! Not you again.' But the chicken lollipop there is incredibly awesome. Anyways, what was the question again?

Senior- Where would you like to see this department in the future?
Junior- Utorda. I mean it is the most awesome white-sand beach I've ever seen. And did you eat at Zeebop? It's amazing. Yeah, we'll go there next time when I'll give my chief-coordinator treat. *wink*wink*

Senior- Tell us why you feel that you are best-suited for the posts of Chief-co, Waves-co, Spree-co, Quark-co, Zephyr-co, I-have-no-clue-why-this-post-exists-co, *Insert-a-stylish-sounding-word-here*-organizer, *Another-one-just-for-you*-manager, and 52 other randomly generated posts.
Junior- I have the potentiality, the capability, the caliber, the capacity, the talent, the aptitude, the competence, the faculty, the... Okay I've run out of all the synonyms now. What's the next question?

Senior- Who would you like to remove from the department, if you could?
Junior- That jerk named XYZ. I mean he's such an asshole he almost looks like one. But I only wish he could keep his shit to himself. LMAO. What? Didn't get it?

Senior- C'mon now! You don't get brownie points for being a bitch. And what's your CGPA?
Junior- Dude! CGPA seriously? What are you? My mom?

Senior- Let me give you a hypothetical situation, in which a girl from some outside campus comes to our fest, Waves, gets kidnapped, is released in BITS Hyderabad on-stage in a fashion-show, and gets all famous on FB, and gets some 873 likes on her pics. Now, how will you prevent our department from earning a bad reputation for this incident?
Junior- I would totally take her to Waves-ball and write a story about us on BITS Confessions. I just love  hypothetical situations.

Senior- Who of the other applicants do you think, should be given those posts you have applied for?
Junior- Well, throw me a title and I won't give a damn even if the rest of the posts are allotted via a game of musical chairs, played using Reshmaiyya's discography, on a broken gramophone. But as you are asking let me figure out. Okay choose one of these fingers. Yeah, make ABC Spree-co and PQR Quark-co. Now choose again. What? It was your question!

Senior- Okay. We are done.
Junior- Smoking Amazeballs! I'm the chief right? Wait I'm calling up my mom.

Well, I'm surely a racist when it comes to life. I want it to be fair. But sometimes we fail in getting what we want. Some feel infuriated and blame others, some feel defeated and distressed, while some accept it and rectify themselves. But the trick is to move on. With optimism and dignity. And if we contemplate on a philosophical plane; whenever it seems like the world is not responding to our pleas in a... HOLY SHIT! The video I clicked on yesterday has finally buffered. Catch you later. Bye!

Confessions, Compliments, Custard, Whatever

These days, there has been a disease that's rapidly infecting the campus, making the students involuntarily spray their stupidity all over the Facebook. Okay, that's basically what FB is for, but wait, now we have specific pages for that, reading which may leave your brain in a comatose state of WTF (what's this foolishness?) Of course, this trend too has reached the campus via the same age-old traditional route of ,"I actually started at some American University, that makes me unreasonably awesome by default, then IIT spotted me and went bananas and nuts, and then stepped in, the BITS, thinking,'Okay, what exactly are we waiting for?' and so on..."

So the page that is in the spotlight is called 'BITS Confessions'; it consists of numerous outpourings of students' darkest secrets (as only a retard would dare to do those things in broad daylight) which obviously are very true, in the same way as I'm true, when I say I go to C-Mess, for its mouthwatering dishes. And the confessions can be roughly divided into these categories below-

(a) I am amazing- No, seriously. I mean, how else could I force my Prof to give me an A, by claiming to be a zombie with moderate make-up and threatening to eat him alive otherwise? Or when I smoked heavily in front of a Security Guard and silently escaped vomiting and swaying, while he wondered whether ghosts could puke! And did I tell you about, how I had written my own recommendations, while my Profs wrote my exams, in exchange of some false medical-prescriptions? And someone else is doing my MS in MIT by the way. So, in short, I am awesome.

(b) I have an adventurous love-life- Yes. Me and my partner are so into each other that we frequently go behind *censored* and continue with *parental advisory: explicit content* ending it with a final touch of *rated R* and then return to our hostels. In fact, I am not a human. I am a blob of testosterone walking. Hence, at the end of my college-years, the probability of me getting gonorrhea is greatly greater than me getting graduated. But in my defense, why should only the boy take all the blame?

(c) I rock at revenge- I am known all over the campus for my temper, which is, like my various other attributes, very short. So, I instantly got irritated when my neighbor continued spamming in DC and FB about some stupid event, and thus set fire to his laptop and later, to him. And the wonderful thing is, he still doesn't know who killed him. But it indeed was a very funny incident. (But I still can't understand why our warden couldn't see much humor in it!)

(d) I am a Die-Hard despo- I am a total chick-magnet; only that, magnets, unfortunately, also repel. I have till now proposed 95 different people with feminine nicks in DC main chat. And sadly got rejected there too. I tried calling girls from my phone-contacts but all of the numbers seemed to dial up Liam Neeson from Taken. (Or were they the annoyed fathers?) Seeing my starved condition, even my friends left me saying, 'Sorry bro. But we can still be frien... Shit!' Sadly, my laptop too has been infected by Dropper and various other viruses so many times, that even a 'performer' from Las Vegas would find it too filthy to use. In short, if you find me hanging somewhere, think twice before touching the suicide-note lying nearby.

(e) I am confused- I, actually, was about to spam on FB, about how attending these fest-nights would change your life forever, for a price of Rs 250 of course, or of Rs 200, depending on whether you'll order those two shirts, a jersey, a petticoat, a doormat, a tissue-paper, a used sock etc on SWD. But on seeing this link, I posted my plea here. I also wanted to praise someone, but owing to my vocabulary, which is so poor even a Somalian would feel posh in comparison, I've posted that too here, instead of doing so on the BITS Compliments page. I sometimes feel that even the teachers should start making announcements here instead of sending Farmville requests, for instance:

Confession #420
All you Chemical people may/may not have a surprise-test/assignment in the lecture/tutorial class of Material Science/Mass transfer. So do attend all the classes. Teehee!

#keh-ke-lunga
#sadis\m/
#FB>>>Photon

And there are other weird categories too, like the one where a person anonymously replies in his confession, to another confession made by some other anonymous person. I mean,what's this? Omegle?

And worse is the page, 'BITS Proposals' where-
(a) In case of girls- A someone proposes a girl, thus increasing her self-esteem exponentially, making her famous and proud, without any point, as he still remains incognito. So, in a way it's like, you conducting a vigorous PR Drive for the fest of some college you aren't even a part of. In short, useless. But if you really want to compliment, then post it on BITS Compliments. At least it looks neater there.
(b) In case of boys- Dude, chill! It's just your slightly gay friend making an advance at you.

I still didn't get the point of BITS Abuses. Yet I think it's okay, for those who think that throwing expletives on someone, while safely hiding in a pit themselves, is mature enough. But on a whole, it's all good, as these pages are at least trying to stimulate the creativity of the frustrated souls in the campus, as they desperately try to pen down a power-packed Sunny Leone movie (Yes. Movie.) into a paragraph.

So seriously guys, grow up. And if you'll excuse me, I have to go propose myself on BITS Proposals.

Will you be my...?

"Dogs bark. Bitches friendzone."

                                                                                                                - Aristotle, on canine behavior

So, it's that time of the year again when we start feeling as desperate as that poor Tyrannosaurus Rex, which hid under a tin shed to prevent getting wet due to heavy rains. Sadly, it was raining asteroids and it died.
Yes, tomorrow is 14th February; that esteemed day, when the Dutch Drees government presented its plan to build 30000 houses, in the year 1949. And also the Valentines Day. Meh.

So, now there's an inflow of cheesy apps like Love-calculator, Love-simulator, Love-refrigerator, Love-alligator, Love-thermoregulator, Love-superadministrator etc all over the net. (One of which calculated a 100% compatibility between me and Mayawati. (No I didn't enter any surname))

And this day, like diarrhea, comes with various symptoms before finally squeezing the shit out of people; namely-
07/2 - Rose day
08/2 - Propose day
09/2 - Remember the slap you got yester-day
10/2 - Stop stalking her FB profile (and her!) from to-day
11/2 - Damn! Why is it Mon-day?
12/2 - WTH! The street dogs are celebrating Kiss-day
13/2 - Shit! I'm again with my pet octopus on Hug-day
14/2-  Say 'Valentine' again and I'll bloody hammer your brains. Yeah; day

But if you believe in directly coming to the point instead of wasting money on Teddy bears and gummy bears, here are some tips for all you single-helplessly-waiting-to-mingle to make this day an unforgettable memory. These are some acts you have to perform to successfully change your relationship-status on FB from "single" to "it's complicated (coz I accidentally lifted few relationship tips from some evil loser's blog)"

So here goes the list, with the success-probability and difficulty-level increasing, as you go down. *Drumroll*

Level I- Wear a rose (or roses, depending on your budget) on your shirt permanently for the whole day. It is also cheap, as you may use that unused rose from the Rose Day. Yeah, it looks odd and weird. But it totally helped Nehru 'mount his baton'.

Level II- Go guitarist. Come on, we are all engineers, and our first and foremost duty to our nation is to play that godforsaken 'Godfather' theme on the goddamned guitar. So take that wooden stringed instrument wherever you go and keep thrumming it periodically. The guitar, I mean. And you may add a medley of songs like Bruno Mars' 'Grenade' poisoned by a sadistic potion of 'Sheela Ki Jawani' and 'Jeena Yahaan Marna Yahaan' and end up driving all the musically-challenged girls crazy. But it works only if  you are called Gajendra Verma and you are playing in an auditorium.  

Level III- Act blind. Wear your goggles, take a stick and walk coolly, until your crush comes and you abruptly fall on her. Now, there are two possibilities:
(1) She may pity you and sympathetically ask, 'Are you blind?' Reply, 'Yes' Now, gauging her emotion, gently add, 'And so is my love.'
(2) She may freak out and shriek out, 'Are you blind, asshole?' Reply, 'Yes' Now, without gauging her emotion, cuttingly add, 'And so is your grandma.'
In case something good eventually happens, (the probability of which would be as less as ethics in GTA) you can suddenly drop in the Titanic's classic line, 'I see You', one fine day and open her eyes too. (And stop giving me those cheap looks. I'm doing social-service here.)

Level IV- Tell tales. Things needed- few trustworthy friends and an armor, preferably shining. Wear the armor and roam around your crush with your friends when she is alone. And when she is suitably shocked by your unearthly appearance, she will yell, 'What the hell is that costume?' Your friends will now step in and act like you are just wearing the same clothes that you initially planned to give for laundry a month ago. Now, when she goes out of her wits and shouts, 'Why does it look like an armor to me then?', your friends will casually suggest, 'Perhaps, because, he is your knight-in-shining-armor'. Now it's time for you to act royal, which you've never been in your whole life, and live the tale. Note: If you lie anywhere below the Tropic of Cancer on the map, smoothly add, 'And you can call me... the Dark Knight.'

Level V- Play gay. Now this is an interesting one. You have to come out of the closet even if you don't have one and tell about it to your crush. It'll be highly awkward at first but will turn easy and comfortable gradually. And then, when the time is perfectly ripe like a yellow banana, go back inside your imaginary closet. Convince her with a straight-face that her presence has dramatically changed your mindset and you are Khushi-wala-gay now, but not the mushy-wala-gay. Heck, you may even become a celebrity by joining and publicizing Ramdev Baba's quest of 'curing' gays via Yoga. *Happy Ending* *Claps*

Level VI- Pick-up positively. When it comes to pick-up lines, I position myself at very high ranks just like Laden positions himself in the list of Nobel Peace Prize nominees; as the only pick-up line I know  immediately gets you a handshake, but unfortunately, can be used only once a year. Because it's 'Happy Birthday!' And a humble request to all the CS guys- stop using 'Hello World' as a pick-up line. That isn't the correct syntax. And EEE/ENI people, you can use this line- 'I thought the DC is the most electrifying thing until I met you.' Don't know about the rest, but if your crush is a Chemical Engineer, the ideal one is, 'Are you placed?' Because when she asks why, you can romantically reply, 'Coz you are one in a million.' Despite looking easy, this act is placed at the 6th position because just like the snake-reborn-to-take-revenge stories, it works out only in the movies.

Level VII- Be You*. This is the most difficult one. Seriously. Because try however you may, there is always the actor within you who forces you to pretend, to feign, to fake. But in the long run, being yourself ultimately helps you emerge victorious. Yeah you can wipe those tears now.

If you found the whole content to be directly opposite to the word 'useful', do remember, that I promised to help you make this day 'an unforgettable memory', nothing else. And that I guarantee. If you have any better and safer ideas, do drop them in the comment-box and take part in this noble and altruistic activity. And who knows, that might make some lonely writer somewhere lucky. So everyone reading this, wishing you an advanced Happy Solo-people-hiding Day and for all the girls, 'Happy Birthday!! :P :D :F :W'



*No this isn't a publicity article for any sort of an awesome conference, but if you've been lazy enough to not register still for something called TEDx, here goes the link, http://10.10.10.120/ And yeah there's a shirt too. Yeah that black one, which doesn't look like a copied football team's jersey. Signing out. 












  

Bunking may cause Cancer*

Yeah, it's a statistically proven fact well documented by a very esteemed and responsible news channel, India News. (Keeping aside the fact that, it has also once reported, with accurate astronomical evidence, obviously, that 'Hell' is actually a planet between Mars and Jupiter; but come on, telescopes with dirty lenses are to blame.)

So that night, exactly at 23:41:05 hrs IST (GMT+5.5), I over-ambitiously set the alarm at 5:45 am, after searching that rarely-used app for about half-an-hour in the phone, switched off the lights and then flew and fell on the bed strewn with all the clothes I would wear the following month. It was then that a rascal knocked at my door and shrieked, "Night Mess!" An hour, a Rs.35-debt and a sandwich later, I was back in my room and wondered whether going to an incomprehensible class the following morning was worth getting into rare (and sometimes cool) psychological disorders triggered by sleep-deprivation.

I had always suspected that alarms were crafted with the art of black-magic to be used as a tool to torture the mankind by waking them up from their sweet slumber at the oddest times possible. Yeah, my phone was damn punctual in its sadism and 'alarmed' me sarcastically.

Half-an-hour (or was it an hour-and-a-half?) later...

Here I was, after one month of educational hibernation, stepping into the lecture theater. I don't know what was so brutal in the way the professor glared at me, that he started resembling a 'Trespassers will be prosecuted' board. I ignored the sudden creepy silence, the burning stare of the students and wondered what had gone wrong and checked if I had my pants on. Or perhaps, it was just due to me being bag-less and interrupting the class, by being 15 minutes late. I quickly walked to the farthest corner possible and dissolved in the seat with utmost silence.

There were so many symbols and alphabets on the board that if Dan Brown would see it, he would get enough material to write 7 different sequels to The Da Vinci Code. But no! The professor was actually teaching Thermodynamics, which had now elevated to such a high level that if a NASA scientist would plan on landing a rover on its face, he would first systematically calculate all the transitions, trajectories, tangents and finally, backed by sufficient scientific proof, conclude- "Abey, lite ley"

After sometime (which was 10 seconds), I checked if I had dozed off, but the AC had taken care of my lack of sleep, by being OFF and letting the sweat pour from every pore. No, the professor wasn't tired at all and felt reluctant on leaving before he completed the 50 precious minutes of his lecture.

Anyways, I drifted back into my daydreams, and imagined an octopus riding a dragon, flying across the theater, gobbling up all the nerds and spitting spectacles everywhere and waving an eight-handed 'Hi' to me. And I pretty much deserved this friendly gesture as I had always been a die-hard fan of Oswald.

(And this vision just got my blog a U/A certificate from Pogo for disturbingly portraying its cartoon in a surrealistic imagery.)

But, I have to admit that, however hard you may try to ignore, the topics being taught in the class always leave an impression on your imagination. Like that time, when the prof was teaching about "French Revolution", and I was imagining a conversation between The Eiffel Tower and The Leaning Tower of Pisa (after contemplating Paris Hilton, of course)

E.T. - "Hey, L.ToP, I am straight. How about you?"
L.ToP- *hell-bent on not responding*
E.T.-  "coz I heard you have some strange inclinations!"

Or when the Maths prof was trying to prove the controversial equation- '1 2 ka 4, 4 2 ka 1' (strategically incorporated in the Anil Kapoor song, 'My name is Lakhan') by the method of Contradiction, and then adjusting his tie screamed- "This is gonna be Legen...wait for it...dre's equation!" Or was it just another day-dream? You will never know.

And have you met one of those students infected by this miserable disease of perpetually making notes of what all the teacher does? They don't even bother looking at the teacher, as their heads are eternally pinned to the notes. Take this excerpt from the notes of one of my nerdy friends, for example-                                                                                                                                

"...so I was stressing the importance of Entropy which is a major issue in running a machine *coughs*  Because it lays the foundation of Second Law. Hey, wake him up man! *pauses* And these laws are to be followed for energy to be profitably transformed. Why is he still sleeping? Hey! Good Morning to you too! Get out. *sends me out of class*..."

Yeah, Profs love eye-contact! So better give them some.

Now let's get back to the Thermodynamics class. (That kept trying to keep up to its name by continuously frying my brains.) The digital clock now indicated that I had to keep my delicate mental-balance for a one hour long minute more. It almost felt like watching an atom-bomb ticking its countdown, only that this bomb would explode, spraying chocolate and Miami beaches in all directions. I closed my eyes as sweat trickled down my face and the theme 'Rise' from TDKR played in the background. And finally, the miracle happened. The clock struck independence and I came out feeling like the hero from the 'Shawshank Redemption' after he prison-breaks. There was confetti falling from the sky, people exchanged hugs and handshakes with moist eyes and trumpets merrily farted. At last, I was liberated....


Oh wait! What was this post about?


*This post was actually written in the last semester but has been posted now as I couldn't find sufficient time  to mock Quark owing to my excessive sleeping sickness. My apologies.