How lazy I am..continued..

Nothing much to write here, but I did manage to find this picture about Procrastination.

Apologies

I think I should apologise for the formatting-related inconsistencies in my blog. I have never really gotten hang of the formatting system on the site, and have found weird changes in even documents copied from MS Word. I hope things will get better if and when I start posting regularly.

How lazy I am

I must confess I have never really been a hyperactive fellow, but it's not that I have ever been this lazy either. I come into my room, I see a mess (something that has always been associated with me) and I do nothing about it. This, you might say, is not unfamiliar - I was always like this. Actually, no, earlier I did use to clean my room, be it just two days before minors and majors to facilitate studies. But the lack of exams here, plus the lack of room caution fees have brought me to the level where I do absolutely nothing. I have the dustbin full of things, even overflowing with them. I have bags open all over the floor and utensils kept, unwashed, uncleaned beneath my bed - Why? Because this way, I can eat while I am lying on my bed and then, keep the used utensils somewhere too.

I am doing a project here, and I haven't even looked at the title till now. And I got the fright of my life when the professor told me that I may have to make a report alone because I have been faithful and consistent in not going to any session on the pretext that I have other classes at the same time. I have pages and pages to study which I haven't laid a hand upon till now. I have important mails to write, which I procrastinate every day and every hour. There's a plan I have to make for a trip to Amsterdam, which I am in no mood to make. Hence, its not just me who is "suffering", its the others too. But, it seems like I am above all this now. The other day, I broke a perfume bottle just because it was kept in an awkward position on top of a pile of clothes withdrawing one cloth from which made it slip, slide and break and remove my room of all malodour, if ever there was (because if there was, my nose had become used to it) and fill it with even more malodour of the leakage of 150mL of alcohol mixed with various animal and plant extracts just to produce an odour which helps people to let other people remain ignorant of their malodour. (I am too lazy to go through that sentence to see whether it makes sense or not.) And that perfume bottle is still in my room because I am too lazy to go throw it. 

My french friends walk into my room and don't forget to comment that my walls are still white. And by white, I don't mean that we had to paint them ourselves, but that there is an unwritten law french people live by and that is to have posters in the room. They even gave me posters to put up and were generous enough to give glue and thumbpins to put them up. I responded by shoving all this under my bed and doing nothing about it. It has now been more than one month since I have got hot girls and awesome cars under my bed. I am so lazy that I start blog entries once every week and publish just one a month (I am too lazy to go complete one and thus, have a host of incomplete entries in the edit posts tab.) I am thinking I should post this one or this might end up just like the others which makes me start thinking about signing this one off with a nice little punchline which will make people laugh or think or be amazed, but I would rather end it the easy and the lazy way with an obsolete sentence ending in the grammatically correct manner, that is, with a fullstop. 

French misadventures - Part 2

Time : 12 AM

Place : The Streets, La Rochelle

Now, we find team 1 leading the other team to the centre of the city with exclamations of awe, excitement, exhilaration, stunned admiration etc describing their destination as "Heaven"(while trying to explain their late-arrival - it is not easy to make up your mind to leave heaven, is it?), while their followers are looking at each other with disbelief and anxiety. As they walk and ponder and go to the extent of prophesizing about the beauty of this "Heaven" they are to stumble onto, let us look at the plan they have chosen.

10pm to the time they are tired - Roaming around (Team 1 stumbled on a festival going on in the city)

From when they are tired to 5am - At the bar

5am to 7am - At the Gare

So, 10 minutes later, they arrive in "Heaven" and seemingly feel that the end was anti-climactic (a feeling that was about to change pretty soon).

Some street-shows, Eurotrip-inspired-human-robots, cancelled spectacles and a long walk later, they arrive at THE BEACH of THE ROCHELLE.

Time : 1 AM

Place : The Beach, La Rochelle

So, why, you ask, would someone want to go at a beach at 1 in the night? Divine intervention maybe the right answer. Now, the beer having been bought, had to be finished. In wake of not much competition, TSG happily volunteered to do the dirty work and to drink the beer.

While the beer bottles are being emptied, the 6 people talk some sense and some nonsense, but that's where the fun was about to begin.

So, at the beach, they find a cellphone - and leave it. Why? Best explained in TSG's words

If anyone comes here and searches for it, they should find it like TPG found her jacket

(words, which he might come to regret now, having lost his phone at a beach)

That favour being repaid, they continue-see people playing with fire juggling burning objects-and it makes no difference to them. Atleast one of Team 2 members expected "Heaven" to be better, though the beauty of the beach seems to be having an effect. All this time, the alcohol has started to control and dominate TSG (Presumably and via various observations, the time gap between alcohol consumption and its exhibition in actions is infinitely miniscule for him) and the six people tend to start hearing abuses with increasing frequencies. Realising this, TSG tries to compensate by adding a sorry after each abuse, and in effect his sentences in majority made up of B***n**** and sorry, and this makes TPG start living up to her name (The author reminds and counsels you to keep in mind the names of the characters because they have been chosen with utmost care.)

High and dry (out of alcohol), TSG proposes that everyone sit in a circle and try to sort out the problems inside the group - a wonderful idea. This leads to a nearly hour and a half long session which can be completely skipped, because the author wants the narrative to be well-paced and because, from an external perspective (which the author wants to maintain here), it was all just some mumblings interfused with b***n****s and sorries. But, during the long discussion, 2 things happen and they are both worthy of being taken notice of

1) The people in the group start gelling better, and

2) Alcohol takes control of TSG

with, obviously, the second one leading to more action.

Time : 2:30 AM

Place : The Beach, La Rochelle (still)

In some time, nature's forces start prevailing over the members of the group, and, unbelievably non-surprisingly, the first to want to head off to the toilet is TSG. The two funny incidents mentioned below have their origins in the expensiveness of public toilets in France.

The first one takes place when TSG wants to go relieve himself and doesnt want to go as far as the public toilet and starts roaming around here and there till he stumbles onto some French people playing Bole Chudiyan (Yes, the author would like to stress that you read it correctly. Go rub your eyes and wash your faces if you want, but this is true.) and starts dancing with them until Mother Nature doesn't want him to carry on. And this time, without any place to go, he heads to the shop he ate at that morning and makes himself comfortable, while fearing what would happen if someone saw him there. As he is done, he looks up and gets the fright of his life when he sees Frenchies approaching him. With his heart in his mouth, he surrenders himself to his fate, until he sees them following suit and bemusedly chuckles. On his return to the group, he makes sure this story (interspersed with swear words and sorries, obviously) is relayed to the others and convinces TNNG to do the same.

The second one takes place at a time when the 6 protagonists are tired and want to go sit at the bar. They run across a public toilet and after paying just once and managing to hold the door open, they all manage to be at ease with their bladders again. (The author would like to bring into notice that within a short time of the publishing of this story, some of the protagonists will receive a bill from TFG demanding the requisite fraction of the usage charges to be given to him.)

Time : 3:00 AM

Place : A bar somewhere in La Rochelle

Somehow, stumbling and falling, taking photographs and making videos in the process, the group reaches the bar, not with the intention of drinking, but with the intention of resting there. Hence, the readers should not be surprised at the fact that 6 of them ordered 2 drinks in total. While the others are taking a rest, TSG, or his Alcohol-governed split personality, takes his drink in his hand and goes to the dance floor. An hour later, his return is marked with a thump on the table and a crash onto the chair and voila, he is, as they say, out. The time passes, with TFG asleep, others falling in and out of sleep and TSG completely out, till its time they have to leave the bar and head to the gare.

Time : 5:00 AM

Place : The Gare,La Rochelle

As the scene is shifted, TSG is having to be coaxed to leave the bar and be held onto by 2 people so that he doesnt fall down. At the gare, his hyperactivity is monitored by continuous rendering of the sentence "Calm down, or the police will come" (Amazingly similar in meaning and intention to "So ja beta, warna Gabbar aa jayega") by TCNG. The fear being instilled and the hyperactivity being monitored, the group waits for the gare's doors to be opened. The instant this much-awaited moment comes, they pour into the gare-directly into the waiting area to catch some well deserved sleep. 90 minutes is the total amount of sleep they get before TSG's alarm wakes them up. (The alarm which TCNG set up because TSG couldn't remember the way to.) At the moment of him waking up, TSG wonders about where he was and how he got there, with the last thing in his mind being his dance at the bar.

Conclusion and the Incidents that follow

In the broader perspective, this time, they are able to catch the train and make it back to Nantes and in the spirit of the weekend, miss the bus back to the hostel. The author regrets that there has been no mention of their planned visit to La Baule (The article figures here too - THE Baule) the next day and apologizes for it having disappeared from his mind. Now, they are faced with a decision of whether to go back walking or to wait for the bus and miss the next day's trip. TSG, TFG and TCNG decide to walk back while the others decide to wait for the next bus. What follows for the first three is half an hour of brisk walking interspersed with brief spells of jogging and they arrive in time to brush their teeth and head to La Baules. Out of the others, TPG has a change of mind and gets back to join them (somehow making it back in time even after taking the bus) and what follows is another day to remember at La Baule.

The author would like to conclude by saying that both La Rochelle and La Baule deserved the articles before their names (and at the same time, requests the readers to leave comments) before signing off and having the dinner he completely forgot about having.

FIN

French misadventures - Part 1

Q) What do you get when you cross 6 semi-crazy IITians with a misleading train time table having 'petit miniscules', a beautiful french city and 2 overcareful french people?

A) A night to remember.

So, the story goes like this-the 6 semi-crazy IITians, referred hereon as TheSorryGuy, TheFundaeGuy, TheCompletelyNormalGuy, TheNearlyNormalGuy, ThePsychoGal and TheRain, accompanied by the 2 supercareful Frenchies and many-many nearly identical Chinese went on a visit to a place called La Rochelle. (For some weird reason, French people add an article before the names of cities-THE Rochelle.) So, this was the plan - We go to La Rochelle after a 2 hour train ride, we spend 3 hours there and we come back - a plan that certainly (and obviously) did not appeal to the 6 people this story covers. And hence, Mr. TSG, the person who is normally leading the group, asked one of the 2 supercareful Frenchies about other trains between the two stations and got 7 and 9 pm as answers. 

After much deliberation, the 6 people decided on the 9 pm train (TCNG and TFG being music fans just had to watch the FREE jazz concert and the decision was made..) Skipping the part where the 6 were mis-guided by the staff at the tourism office and the uninformative leaflet and the first appearance of the word "Sorry" (A word that was going to change how the night was going to be), we arrive at the scene of the insane laughter and where the screw was being bolted in. 

Time : 9 PM

Place : Gare SNCF, La Rochelle

And as we switch scenes, we see TSG beating his arms, his legs and his head on the ground and rolling around in laughter. 

And the cause : The 'petit miniscules'. The spark : "The screw has been bolted in." The explanation : A little tired and after having seen a small tussle between TFG and TR, the 6 people reach the station and check the train schedule and, lo and behold, don't find their train there. The feeling of being screwed starts to arrive. Then, the not-quite-as-careful-as-the-extracareful-Frenchies TSG revealed his carelessness. On the top of the the time for the train was written in 'petit miniscules' a number : 20. That was the 'conditions apply' number and the condition - The train doesn't work on 15th August (which, coincidentally, was also the scene of these happenings.) So, the feeling wasn't out of place. Even then, not deterred, TCNG goes to the enquiry counter to find out other options and learns that the next train is at 7am the next morning. He walks back with these news and says a sentence which triggers TSG's laughing mechanism (a very weird and possibly, unique one at that.) And then come the rolls, the flaps, the shrieks and the slaps (everything, surprisingly, related to just laughter.) 

Time : 10 pm

Place : Gare SNCF, La Rochelle

And we still find the 6 people where we left them racking their brains trying to come up with a solution to where and how THE NIGHT should be spent. 

(The developments in the meanwhile:

i - all hostels are booked

ii - the station can't be used as a refuge since, now this is weird, it is closed at night.)

Hence, they divide themselves into two teams and go to explore options. Here follows the tale of the teams

Team 1 : TPG, TFG, TSG

This team went to find TPG's lost jacket (she lost it sometime during the day) and by sheer serendipity, discovered that nearly every Frenchie is extra-careful. (Someone actually took care of her jacket all the time..wow!! ) And then followed some shrieks (of relief and delight) : TPG - "I love French people" which, of course, attracted weird looks from the people being talked about. Then, the 3 went to get cheap potable water (Don't be alarmed - There have been instances when mineral water has been found to be costlier than WINE.) They ended up at a beautiful beach and forgot all about the fact that they had to meet the other 3 at a fixed time. After realising their mistake, they start making their way back to the meeting point - The Gare, what else? But, they start enjoying the performers on the street and make the same mistake again. So, we leave them here and shift our attention to Team 2, which, at that moment, is at The Gare - Where else?

Team 2 : TNNG, TCNG, TR

This team was handed the task of trying to arrange some lodging for the night and explore possibilities of camping sites too. (Not much important, but mentioned here 'cuz the author thinks it is a very interesting idea.)  Hence, they arrange the number of a youth hostel (Attention: it is not interesting - Mentioned here 'cuz the author thinks it is important) and, just before calling, find their conscience reminding them that that would have been a killjoy. Hence, they confirm from the other group whether they seriously want to sleep, and on receiving a complementary reply, start thinking about how to spend the night. A little tour of the city later, they buy 2 bottles of beer to help them through the night (Author's disclaimer : the people covered in this story are not habitual-drinkers. These people drink only when its necessary. Clarification : The French people consider it necessary to drink wine with every meal.) And some more time later, they stumble upon a bar open all through the night and form a plan of how to spend the night in their heads. Hence, they return to the Gare.

Here, they decide to wait for the other group, and while they wait, here's their plan:

Till 1 am - At the gare

1 am - 5 am - At the bar

5 am - 7am - At the gare again

After having waited for an additional hour, having sent a message, having tried calling the other group and being completely frustrated, they finally catch a sight of team 1  jumping, dancing and singing their way back, which augments their frustration and hence follows a heated discussion. (Not exactly heated, but important : Hence, exaggerated to make it interesting.)

Summarising their discussion, we learn that there is another plan to spend the night and the plan that has been chosen is an amalgamation of the 2. 

(The author leaves this post here and vows to complete it soon and explain all the unexplained things - like the word 'Sorry', for instance. 

Key:

Gare : Station

SNCF : French National Railway)

   

 

Being Exchanged!

The cognition

It was, if I remember correctly, the second day when I was staying in IIT, when I went for this Inter-hostel Faccha Quiz (Those were glorious times, when facchas were treated as facchas, and not as petty, minute touch-me-not plants that will curl even if you call their name) and I met this guy, dressed up pretty formally in a shirt, with trousers et al and I found out he was going to go on something called an Exchange Program, and would be back the next sem or the next year. And it wasn't till nearly an year later that I found out what criteria govern a student's selection for the same - And it would be futile to mention, that as everything in IIT, what I heard the first time was only partially correct-if at all it was.

The relation

The true information, somehow, crept through and come January of this year, I was looking forward to applying for this much coveted, much longed for (atleast for me) title of an Exchangy. Hence, time came for filling the form for the same. And I was told, "You need to clear this, after this, its just the interview-woh tu kar lega". And then followed the exploration of my past, the process of digging deep into my memories and the pile of papers kept at my home, recollecting all that I had done in my life worth mentioning on a form with space and size restrictions, filling and refilling THE form, getting it cross-checked and cross-referenced- all just to 'clear this'. 

The anticipation

Its in verity that people say, "Everyone in IIT is lazy." So how long would a process of going through 50 forms to pick the best 25 last? 1 day? 2 days? 3 days? Well, it took 3 weeks, and they picked the best-wait for it-50!! Hence, 3 weeks the sombre pieces of paper were waiting : waiting for someone to just take a look at them-after they had been very thoughtfully filled and refilled and refilled and refilled and refilled-but it wasn't to be.

So, on the date mentioned, we 50 exchange hopefuls queued up outside the dean's office, hoping we would all be 'interviewed' and it would be done before 1 or 2 in the night. And then came the law of averages-We were provided one wish, the other-Ughhh!! Hence, by 8, when the process was finished (The one wish we had been provided), 15 of us had been interviewed (Ughhh!!) "The rest tomorrow"- They said that day, and the next day. And, all this time, there was this shadow of POLTU looming all over us. (which is a topic much beyond the scope of this article) 

The result also successfully upheld the IIT tradition-by keeping getting delayed and by succeeding to be spread around as a rumour everyday. And when it did come, there was still the element of disbelief-not because I had been selected, but because the result was indeed OUT. 

The conclusion

So, after 3 months of intense, poltu-ridden, unadulterated, red-tape governed, slow-as-a-snail drama (involving interviews, delayed interviews, even more delayed interviews and the always-in-the-pipeline-but-never-actually-showing-up result), the news came out and I was to be, well, an Exchangy, and surprisingly, and not so surprisingly, I didn't actually jump with joy. (The jump could have shown itself had it all fittingly ended with someone with a mic and drums saying  "Aaj ki taaza khabar..aaj ki taaza khabar")

(More exchange related stuff to come soon..)

This moment...

In moments like these, this question unfolds

To flow or not to flow with the folds

To see what you should or what you are told

To murmur and surrender or instead, to be bold

The places are here,

The joy-Alas!

The laughter is here,

The happiness-Alas!

The thoughts that cross as you wet your eye

For, to live is to breathe and to breathe is to die

The anticipations had risen, the wait seemed long

And life seemed as if just on the brink of a song

And then, the slump, the fall and the slide

And then this question in the middle of the ride

My heart called upon me, "Is this why I am here,

My master-Do you care? My master-Do thee care?"

And I answer, "O clock,

that ticks back to my grave,

It's in times like these

that you ought to be brave

And I care for thee, therefore I councel you now

Do as you desire, but never just bow"

For it's in his dignity, that a man is honoured

And you need your genuineness when you find you are cornered

And you need yourself to make yourself believe

That to live is to breathe and to breathe is to live.

Hope

The ghost of life

floats like water

in the spring of death

and through the cold, the fire,

waits for that elusive breath.

Life..

Is this the real life?

Is this just fantasy?

Caught in a landslide

No escape from reality

When Freddie Mercury wrote Bohemian Rhapsody, he had no idea he would ever have AIDS-infact, no one had ever heard about it. But if you listen to the song keeping in mind that he was diagnosed of AIDS and died due to it (something which was brought to my mind when i saw artistes unlimited's cover of the song-which, by the way, was brilliant), you sometimes feel that destiny is not just a word-its more than that.

Mama, ooo

Didn't mean to make you cry

If I'm not back again this time tomorrow

Carry on, carry on,

as if nothing really matters

No matter how less you try to think about philosophy, there are moments in your life when you can't avoid doing it and this moment was one of those which made me, a highly "un-philosophical" person to think about how, unintentionally and unknowingly, we might prophecise about our future. And to think Freddie's not the only example (there have been writers who've found themselves in a similar position that they placed one of their characters into) does give you the creeps. Who knows we might say something in a chirpy little informal talk and find that that something is creeping its way into our life?

Too late, my time has come

Sends shivers down my spine

Body's aching all the time

Goodbye everybody - I've got to go...

They say "You shape your own destinies." , but do we do so when we think we are doing so or does it happen at such times when we are never really thinking about life? Does it mean life plays its trump card when you turn your face away? Does that make life "opportunistic", or in more common, yet less acceptable parlance, a "b***h"?

Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth
Mama, ooo - (anyway the wind blows)
I don't want to die
I sometimes wish I'd never been born at all

Frankly, it does and it does not. It does because that defines opportunism and it does not because it teaches us a lesson. It tells us in plain simple words that if we can't think about life all the time (which i'm sure no one can), there's no use doing it at all, 'cuz life being the metaphorical "b***h" will still use the moments we turn away to shape itself. Hence, its better to not think about life and to just live it as it comes. That is, it's better to be here and it's better to be here NOW.

(When I started writing this, I didnt know which direction it would go to, yet it eventually ended up preaching the "live in the present" adage. Maybe this proves the worthiness of this particular saying...maybe we SHOULD live in the present...maybe...)

(Sorry for resuming blogging with such a philosphical post, but if you see this, you'll know why i wrote this. The prose, by the way, comprises of extracts of the lyrics of the song.)