The South Zone Experience

I knew I was committing to something which ran strictly against my beliefs, when I gave a nod to Baby sir. The prospect of spending an entire week with a group of relatively unknowns did not tempt me.  Add to that the disappointment of missing out on B.tech arts. Honestly speaking the journey didn’t start off in the best possible manner either. Was terribly early for the train owing to some mis-communication.  And when I realized I was going to spend the next 24 x 7 with people whom I had seemingly no similarities with, I was completely overwhelmed by an urge to get down at the next railway station and just leave. But I’m glad I didn’t, cause the train ride to Chennai turned out to be very interesting to say the least. Infact...

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Trains

To sound poetic when the topic you are writing on in is the ‘ Indian railways’, is tough. Especially when the not-so-fond memories of the last time you had to use the ‘loo’ comes rushing into the mind. Or the distinct nauseating odour of Lord knows what that haunts the entire train. We do have the dirtiest trains in the world. But there is something about these trains, a feeling that lacks a proper adjective, that makes you excited each time you make a journey.  Something very uniquely ‘Indian’. My earliest memory would be that of the ‘passenger’ (shuttle) train ride with my grandparents to the Thrissur district.  A ride that had more to do with the rail moving ‘backwards’ than us moving front.  And I used to sit in the corner...

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Paranormal Diaries 2

That night I had dreams. Long, dark, disturbing ones.... Natalie Portman was performing a ballet to what sounded like a strange Samba music played on bass guitars. The tempo kept increasing dramatically and the dance became wilder as it tried in vain to convey some message to me. Gradually the song started sounding more like an intense Tango. And then her eyes turned red., a deep red that looked like oxygen starving blood, as she started mimicking the motions of a snake. Fascinatingly she kept her eyes fixed on mine...   I was back home. Something started moving beneath the couch. Rat snakes. But it seemed to be scared of something else. Suddenly there were snakes everywhere. I tried shouting at the mysterious person inside my house...

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Yet Another Mullaperiyar Story

It occurred to me one cold night [ the 'fine morning' part was starting to sound boring ] that having a 'swimming utilities' shop would mean quick money. Tectonic plates were moving in Idukki and there was panic everywhere I looked. People, who in their entire lives hadn't put more than Rs 50/- worth petrol inside their bike's fuel tank were now filling it upto the brim. Suddenly there was money to be spent. I even called up my friend who works in the insurance sector and inquired if it would be possible to rename any of their existing accidental policies as "mullaperiyar policy". Would sell like hot egg bajjis at Payyappilly's that! And that was it. I had finally devised a plan to piss my friend ('a save Mullaperiyar through FB warrior')...

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Paranormal diaries 1

No I don't believe in ghosts. Which probably explains why I ended up at the Edappally church's cemetery at 1 in the night. I wanted a sensational story for my blog and the greenish lights they had at the place would do brilliantly on a frame. Or so I had thought. Nothing happened. Ghosts did not rise up from the dead and dance to Iron Maiden. Nor did my ancestors pop up and advise me on what I should do [ now that would've been scary]. Yet I managed to sit there for two hours. Tried everything I could think off with the camera. And finally came back home depressed. The next night I did think about the cemetery though, as I struggled hard to find sleep, which was odd considering the minimal sleep I had had. And when I turned to the other...

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The Female paradox

So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them -  Genesis 1:27 [ No wonder people struggle to understand God. How can they if the 'female' kind is an image of Himself ] Just as there are finger prints, there are women in this world. Unique and incredibly complex.  A casual trip to Veegaland [ a.k.a Wonder La ] is what has inspired me to write this note. An year ago I was in love.  Yes ,Yes. submerged in the sea of love. And I still remember pushing my 2 month old punto to the very same amusement park and the subsequent romantic evening, as if it happened yesterday.  For an average Indian desperate male, even the role of a driver can be a very stimulating experience. Here...

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The grammar rule

It all happened when, one fine morning [ anything after 12 a.m is morning right? ] I decided to write an article. Nothing bizarre about that. And I wrote. The dumb, emotional stuff I usually write. What I like to call ' personal '.  The next day morning I sent the article to a couple of friends. They all gave me the 'thumbs up', so I published . Strangely though, I actually bothered reading the article again and that was when this strange new phobia of mine started. Grammar. Right now, I'm sitting here in front of my monitor reading the last paragraph and thinking " oh wait.  Should it be " what I've always liked to call " or " what I liked to call " or anything else?" [ was I even allowed to put double quotes inside double quotes?...

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News OF The World? Or FOR the World?

Lets get it straight. We all love reading really good juicy stories. Be it Sarkozy , Berlusconi or Shane Warne. Even princess Diana.  So why was it that when a certain Hugh Grant came out with his 'bugging the bugger' one felt incredibly moved? That when he expressed his concerns all nodded in agreement? I suppose the immediate answer would be " he is Hugh Grant after all. Mr Notting Hill! He can't be wrong." But when Roy Greenslade's column hit 'The Guardian' questioning the professionalism of Britian's loved one, concluding that " nothing sells like celebrity " we were yet again moved. Especially since it came from 'The Guardian' which played a huge role in bringing the story of Rupert Murdoch and 'NOW' into limelight. How do we draw...

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The World @ BIT rate

The article contains some explicit language. Do not read if you have heart problems! I'm back at what I do best! Curse the world and the people in it. The latest of which is something that has been bothering me for quite a while now. "Since when did men start bitching about other people's lives?" The first thing I did was ask a girl. Always ask the experts they say. Apparently men have been bitching about other men since eternity. Its just that they've always been doing it with the opposite sex unlike the girl lot which reminded me of something that I read in Manu Joseph's "Serious Men". "A man can never be friends with another man." I found that a little difficult to digest back then but right now I am beginning to wonder if there is...

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Being Human Being

At the age of ten, when the world around her went to schools, Ammini took to housework , moving from one house to another, running that burly coconut broomstick across different yards and washing clothes of many who live no more. I once asked her why she did that to which she casually replied " Back then 10 year olds were 'grown-up' enough. And this was what we were destined to do. My mom did this. My sister does this. Its our trade." Remarkably, 43 years since that day when she walked into a house wearing the tiny blouse and the customary 'lungi', she still goes strong surviving on that black coffee she consumes every morning before going to the late Gopalan Nair's house.Ammini aunty, as i call her, has been a part of my life ever since I...

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UNPLUGGED: insignificance of another life

UNPLUGGED: insignificance of another life: "This article is in no way aimed at a certain religion or caste. Religion as we all know is vast topic and its impact on our lives even bigge.....

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food,travel and living: The Enigma drive

food,travel and living: The Enigma drive: "When my friend said he had discovered a small shingle near Paravaoor[Kochi,Kerala] which was better than both Cherai and Munambam, it was h....

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Its 3 HOURS again :-/

11-07-11: NOS labThe thing with these big production houses is that they make really wonderful movies, cash in big time and then create a below par sequel(s) ( or prequel(s) as seems the trend these days ) and ruin everything good about the initial product. But the fact that they keep doing it, mixed with the age old truth that faculty at cusat sucks must be why I'm looking at the screen and thinking " oh God! Its 3 HOURS again!"One can easily fall into believing that the transition from windows 2000 to Ubuntu, and the change in teacher in charge [ form VK boss to Kutti Srank ] would bring a drastic to change how '3 hours' is handled. And to a certain extend it has. Its now less 'Kandhahar' and more Daniel Pearl. More staring at a screen and...

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Priority and moving on!

I guess it would've been evident by now that i am incapable of writing an article from a neutral perspective. I write purely on what I've learned from my own silly life and from the others that surround me. Please don't take the examples seriously its purely been put in there to explain my case a little more. When Philomina ma'am said that we wouldn't remember and love her the way we do now after some 10-12 years little did we realize that in those words lay one of life's biggest,darkest secrets. Of priority and moving on.Why she said that to a bunch of 1st graders is a completely different thing though. Either she was terribly disappointed with what was happening with her former students or she just wanted to instill the very essence...

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In the quest for funniness

Everything about the article is untrue! Even the names. So you wud be pretty dumb to believe this actually happened. I woke up this morning and in a breath taking [err i mean that long breath u take after u waking up] morning soliloquy i finally concluded " It is high time that I became funny!". So I got up from bed , went to mom and said [NO! I didn't say the barber shop joke this time around x-( ]" Amma, you knowJithin Pallath. We were travelling from Dharam.." . Amma[interrupts] : " Vachakamdi nirthi poyi pallu thekkada". OH! Allright :(OK! SO that didn't go all that well [ angel in the mind : "ellathinum adhinde samayam undu dasa"]. The brush,the close up tooth paste,the mirror, the reflection. Rewind! The brush, the RED close...

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The Insignificance of LIFE

Paramu , who spent his entire life milking cows passed away yesterday at an age well above 70. I personally know him as the man who used to come to my mother's place every single morning to collect the 'kadi vellam'. 365 days for some 40 years he did that. And he did it yesterday as well. But unlike the other days, he stopped near the gate , took two long breaths, told my cousin " pandathe polum onnum alla ippo" and then walked to his home some 300 yards away. He passed away some two hours after that. I must admit I wasn't shocked. People die. Thats the nature's law. But somewhere in the corner of my mind came the realization that I had lost a character from the 'book of life'. But then who was he in this big fat world? And thats when i started...

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Last saturday and now!

Failure is NOT neccessarily the inablity to act. It is when you CAN, and still you DON'T! Last Saturday at church I happened to see this small girl, all alone, shabby and desperatley needing a bath. Quite possibly the kid of a nomad. She was looking at this rich lady with pearl necklace and no lack of 'talcum'with keen eyes. Strangely the eyes were not on the 'expensive' elements of the lady but on the 5 candles she had in her hand. I had candles with me. And I so badly wanted to give it to her. But I didn't. Some might argue it was because she was poor and belonged to the lower strata of the society. I disagree. I would've done the very same had she been Wordsworth's Lucy. Infact theres always this dilemma one has to go through. My badly...

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3 hours

Dear mom, Here's proof that your son can remain silent.Restlessness, manifestly, started in my days in the womb and has been an integral part of me ever since. It is this very fact that has inspired me into writing an article that aims at letting the world know what it takes to be a computer science engineer at CUSAT. 3 HOURSA lot can happen in three hours. After all thats 180 minutes and that can still be divided into seconds. And the heart beats nearly that many times in the same period. But the point i'm trying to make is - a lot need to happen in 3 hours. In-fact there are certain 3 hours in your life, when you do absolutely nothing. Apparently they call it ' lab hours ' in CUSAT.You walk in, scrap your name in...

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