GATE 2012, (the losers’ story)

GATE-2012 has screwed up most of you. Isn’t it?

All of you’re engineers or going to be the one in few months. Most of you spent 1000 bucks for filling the gate form despite knowing that you’re not going to clear even the cut off. Indians are really very brave. We know that we can’t do it but still love to take a chance, thinking of miracles to be happened. Well, in real life no miracles happen.

Most of you have spent four years of engineering in enjoying fun. Like roaming, watching movies, eating in restaurants, fighting for girls (Imbalanced sex ratio always results into fight in India), drinking beers, vodka, wines, puffing cigarettes and hukkahs, bunking lectures and labs, surfing, reading, liking and sharing facebook stuff, running after girls despite knowing there was not any chance because girls always want a rich guy. Unfortunately, most of you are not rich so are studying engineering to become rich. This is India, rich are tired of being rich and poors want to become rich. But the young girls always need rich guys because they’re very expensive. No, no, I’m not defining the cost of a love. They’re expensive in the sense of expenditure. They’re habitual of going and eating into big restaurants, dancing in the discs, drinking in the pubs and bars, watching cinemas in PVRs (where a single ticket costs 175 bucks or more). Most important fact is that you didn’t study well. You studied at the night just before the engineering semester examinations. some of you who think they’re smart took coaching to clear GATE but failed to clear the cutoff. Let me clear one thing coaching institutes do nothing except making you fools. Fortunately, few of you got girlfriends and enjoyed the fairy tales with her. Those who didn’t get any girl enjoyed his sex life by masturbating and roaming around GB road (a red alert area in Delhi where sex is sold).

Let me come to the point. Why did you fail to do well in the paper? Can you remember Anna Hazare? Yeah, all you know this person. Most of you marched behind him, shouting slogans like ‘Bharat mata ki jai, Vande matram, fuck government off and get India released out of the corruption clutches etc…’. This is India when you stand for anything, Indian (most of them are innocent and honest because our history proves it as we got ruled by many outsiders for hundred of years) just love to walk behind you shouting and repeating the slogans. Same thing happened here in GATE-2012. Most of you don’t even know the full form of these four English letters, G-A-T-E.

Do you know?
Yes?
You’re smart enough!

The same thing happened here. Some of the PSUs announced that they’re recruiting only some engineers through GATE. This became a slogan. Everybody sang this song. And filled the GATE form. Some of you studied hard for it. Some just looked at the formulae. Some took coaching as though the coaching will fix a seat for him/her in PSUs. Some looked at it as an opportunity to fool their parents by saying that GATE will give them jobs so that their parents couldn’t eat their heads for some more time regarding placement. Some just hate to give a damn fucking look at the books. Despite knowing everything you people expected that you would screw up the GATE paper like you've been doing with you engineering semester papers by studying for a night or two and clearing papers with handsome percentage of marks. IITians who’ve already grabbed the placements in big Indian and foreign companies just wrote the paper to feel how smart they are. They thought they could clear the paper without studying hard. In return GATE reped thier ass too. They’re simply the assholes. I just hate IITians. I don’t know the reason!
You people just dint like to give a damn look at the number of vacancies through GATE and filled the form, singing the same song “GATE will give us the jobs, GATE will give us the jobs.” Finally it gave us the blowjobs!

When I was a kid my school teachers always use to tell me that Rome was not built in a day whenever I tried to act smart and looked for some short cuts. I didn’t understand the clear meaning of this proverb. When I became a young man I understood the meaning when my all shortcut failed everywhere.
Most of you’re the same. You didn’t study well so your GATE paper didn’t go well. I’m again repeating my school teacher words ‘Rome was not built in a day’. I don’t know where is Rome and how much time did it take to build it. But I want to say one thing that without studying hard you can’t clear GATE or even smaller examinations which will give the job of security guard.

‘Am I discouraging you?'

‘No, not at all.'

I’m just telling you the truth. Don’t feel bad about what has happened to you. Just keep enjoying your life and give some 2 to 3 hours on your study table everyday you can do what you’ve never dreamt for. You can clear IES, IAS and all the reputed examinations. You’ll get a job for sure. Feel proud to be an engineer. This degree has a magic stick. It will work someday.

Did you like this fucking lecture?

Nope?

Yeah?

Then?

Yuvraj Singh & The Slow Killer, Cancer

When the word cricket comes in the head of the Indian, only one face starts flashing in our hearts. And that’s Sachin. In the Indian hearts. I’m an Indian. My head is Indian. My heart is Indian. But when cricket comes into my memory, I can see the face and body of only one player. In fact, two players come. One is the famous mad opener Vireder Sehwag and the other middle order hero, Yuvraj Singh.

I’m not saying I don’t like Sachin. I love the way Sehwag and Yuvraj play.

Yuvi is in hospital in US. And everybody knows why he is there. To get the slow killer killed. By the top doctors. It’s really sad to see people crying of cancer. Most of the Indian die of it. Most of them don’t reach US. Is this a reason? No. Not at all!

Well, he is my favorite player. May the reason he is very happy going and joke cracking kind of person be the reason which make me to like him more than the cricket god. It’s quite hard to show my grief and sadness since the moment I’ve read about him in the news papers. I can’t do anything. Except pray. I can stand before some idols of the gods and shed some tears, joining my hands. Unfortunately, gods don’t cure cancer. The doctors can do it only. Plus I don’t have so much spare time to stand holding my hands and shed tears standing before gods. Plus I don’t believe in gods. Plus many Indians die of cancer everyday. Who cares!

Yesterday morning I tried to pray for him when I was walking towards the park then my eyes felt on a temple. The transparent glass door of the temple was opened. I moved closer. I saw there were nine idols which were sitting in a row. I got confused. Whom to pray so that Yuvi will get recovered fastest? I chose the most beautiful Idol. That was of goddess Mata rani. She was in red and golden check saari and golden ornaments hung around her neck and rest of her body. Her lips were shining with bloody red lipstick. Her golden crown was shining a lot and the diamond at the top of it sparkled. She simply looked beautiful. A lot of gold attracted my eyes. People offer prayer with closed eyes. I kept my eyes opened. I stared at the gold whose sky touching rate is increasing day by day and the goddess should have been wearing more and more ornaments.

Okay, let me come to the point. My head started pondering over the beggars who were lying sleeping outside the temple whose half body were out of the torn blanket. Goddess should have looked at the beggars and then to her golden jewelry. Can you notice my head is again running away from a single Yuvraj’s cancer to the beggars and poors and yes to the goddess’s golden stuff.

Then I simply closed my eyes and my eyes and head and heart god filled with the Yuraj’s face. I visualized him into the hospital bed in US. You know, I’ve never been to US. So not into the US hospital’s bed. But I could see my hero lying there and cracking some jokes on the beautiful nurses. I saw the doctors operating him in his chest and taking out the tumor, which was black and looked like scorpion. You know what, I’ve never seen cancer virus but I saw it there in the hospital. I saw some beautiful nurses at whom Yuvi was cracking some jokes some time before were busy in giving the stuff which the doctors demanded. Yuvi kept his eyes closed from beginning to the end. Doctors might have injected something into his body to make his eyes closed and body immovable. The operation was over. Yuvi was brought out. By the beautiful nurses.

‘Beta, kya soch rahe ho,’ some voice hit into my ears and head and my eyes got opened. It was a pundit’s voice.

‘Oh, I’m sorry. I was praying for someone,’ I said, collecting my nerves and head which were there in the hospital in US.

Tired

Delhi public transport is blessed with the fastest and most comfortable Delhi metro.
I've travelled 3 hours in metro today. It was scary. Push. Pull. Dhakka. Mukki.
I've to travel standing like statue. I'm tired like hell. A lot to write about metro ride.
Good night. :)

Revolution 2020

This pic speaks something. :)

Is it a bed?

Before going into this bed I've to work hard every night.
I need to clean it. :(

Love in the Cinema

Your eyes, glittering and wandering,
Looked into mine.
The reflected lights from the screen,
Made your eyes, visible to mine.

Your hair; long and black,
Trying to hide your eyes,
Glittering and wandering.
Instead, they make your eyes,
Look more and more beautiful.

You’re beautiful, I say.
But, the cinema sound,
Big and noisy,
Stops my words,
From reaching into your ears.

You turn and face me,
To hear what I’ve just said.
You move your head so ears,
Closer to my lips,
So that my words can reach you.

I turn to repeat my words,
My lips move,
Your ear moves,
Closer to your ears.

Your lips deceives your ears,
And stops,
At mine and say,
Don’t move, let me kiss.

POOR WILL REMAIN POOR!

I love having Jalebis on Thursday. Is this day so special or any star matching stuff with eating Jalebis? Nope. The old men who are my good friends in the park always suggest me to have sweets at times because it’s good for health. Well, most of them are the patients of sugar or heart disease but they love youngsters to advice to have sweets. Love for food is the purest love in the world.

Pressing the horn of my bike continuously, plowing the mob and the vegetable vendors, I drove straight and pressed the brakes at the Jalebi stroll where one of my friends was waiting. I turned the key left to switch off the engine and made the bike stand on its stand. Mouth watered. :P I signaled the Jalebi vendor to take out some fresh and hot ones. He knows me. Why would he not? After all I’m one of the rare young guys who go to have Jalebi every Thursday.

The Thursday market is a sabzi market where the sabzi vendors gather to sell their fresh, cleaned, oiled and extra shining vegetables. Most of the buyers are ladies, whose sizes are more than that of normal Indian woman. Extra flesh hung around their each part of body. Still, they look beautiful! The extra dark lipstic, the combed hair, the open hairstyles, the outfits, the fair complexion, the matching round eyes, the mascara and the urban dressing sense make them damn beautiful. The vendors shout as if they are competing with each other in raising their voice levels. The buyers (beautiful ladies) loved to bargain despite knowing that the vendors were not going to reduce even a single buck and were going to weigh lesser than what he was supposed to.

Among all the chaos our Jalebis came out of the boiling oil, then got dipped into the hot sugar juice and after getting weighed the vendor handed it over to my friend. After bargaining, both of us took out wallet and paid half-half. I paid 8 bucks and my friend paid 7. I couldn’t have eaten the sweet Jalebis while riding the bike. So we chose to take a short walk to finish the sweets. Some stud guys rushed their bikes in the middle of the road to impress the young beautiful girls. Some fools tried to impress them with their cars, which created traffic jams which in turn raised inconvenience to the buyers and sellers. Within five minutes Jalebis got finished and both of us cleaned out sticky fingers with the paper envelope in which we got our Jalebis wrapped.

After dropping my friend, I moved bike back into the market. I kept my eyes wide opened and left thumb on the horn. Suddenly, my eyes felt on a heap of jackets, above which two boys were standing and were shouting 50 ka ek and 100 k 2. It impressed me. I stood my bike aside and walked to see what kind of jackets were there whose price was lesser than a handkerchief which is shopped in the malls. I looked at the buyers who were standing around the heap. They looked back at me. I joined them and started looking for the jackets as if I was a smart buyer and was going to take one or two after scanning each piece nicely.

One old man held one jacket and asked the price. The boys were continuously shouting the price loudly but still the gentleman seemed deaf. One of the boys repeated his price slogan. ‘I’d pay 30 bucks only,’ the old man said in a smart tone, as if he knew the real price of the jacket and was going to be in a great loss if he was paying the slogan price. ‘Uncleji, price is fixed,’ the boy, whose age was around 15 years, said. ‘Okay, then keep your jacket,’ the old man said, throwing the cloth on the top of the heap. I knew what was going to be happened. The boy called the old man when he was walking away fast. ‘Here it is,’ the boy said, packing the jacket in a polybag. The jacket was sold. In 30 bucks.

Something like this doesn’t happen in the malls. When you enter into it through the transparent glass entrance, the security guards scan your bodies and bags with metal detectors. Then you enter into a western world, where the price of everything is fixed. A single cup of coffee costs more than twice the price of the old man’s jacket. People go there for shopping and they don’t even talk of bargaining there.

HER BIRTHDAY

Indian parents make love in the chilly byting cold winter. So the maximum birthdays fall in the month of December, January and February. Few days back he celebrated his birthday with his girlfriend. Now it’s his girlfriend’s birthday today.
He rose up early. After coming out of warm blanket he switched the lights off (was the light on for the whole night? Yes. Reason: he dreams nightmares when he sleeps in the dark. Strange guy!) and rushed to the kitchen to make a strong hot cup of coffee. Without delay he switched on the table lamp and slipped in the chair. He opened the brown envelope and took out a sparkling designed card. A birth day card.
The cold hit his bare feet but he avoided to wear socks and uncapped some sparkling pens and permanent markers. After scrapping his head he came out with some strange ideas and started working on the card. Suddenly, his phone started ringing. He looked at the screen which was flashing Parkguy calling. Yes, he is a good human. He loves jogging in the morning. He has made some good friends in the park too. The Park guy calls him every day before leaving his place so that he would pick the card making guy by the right time. He thinks for a while and visualizing himself jogging and exercising in the park, he simply press the button which said silent.

Back to card work. He drew and wrote his imaginations on the card. Birthday card became a valentine card. Most of the stuffs with which the card was carved were the love stuffs. Again his phone beeped. This time the phone screen says 1 New message. He opened the inbox. It was a message from his sweetheart. ‘M rdy…aftr having bf m lvin.’ The message meant; "I’m ready. After having breakfast I’m leaving." I don’t know why people love to fuck English. In the past Indian fucked English (British) and now their mother language; English. The right tip corner of the phone screen displayed the time too. It said; 8:15am. ‘Fcuk,’ the guy said to himself and slipped more than half finished card into the brown envelope.
 
‘What to do now?’ he asked himself. Yes, his girlfriend was ready before the scheduled time for the first time in their two years love life. He scratched his head and moved some strands of his long hair away from his eyes which seemed irritating to him at that time. Again he thinks; Now what? He picked a hair band and tied his long hair. A pony.

He jumped off his chair and rushed to the washroom. He covered the mouth of the tooth brush with a thick layer of tooth paste and tossed it into his mouth. He then filled the bucket with water and holding it in his left hand as right was doing its job (brushing his teeth) and ran out of his washroom. To heat water with the water heater. Hell, he din’t have a geyser at his place. Poor guy! After fitting the water heating rod into the water, he switched on it and vanished into washroom to finish another work; potty.
Within five minutes he emerged out of the washroom to get the hot water. The heating rod had failed to heat the cold water as the water was at a temperature of 2 degree Celsius, but it had managed to beat the chillness of it. He had to take shower with the cold water today. He din’t have another option. His girlfriend would kill him if he had met her late. Cold water bath is strange when the mercury has already dipped below 4. Poor guy! 

After finishing cold water bath in the chilly biting ugly cold he started wearing cloths which he has been wearing for some days. Yuck, he doesn't wash his cloths except inner wears every day. He skipped his breakfast which he himself had to make. He tossed the brown envelope and news papers into his college bag. He wore everything that his girlfriend had threatened him to wear. Does he dress himself badly?
Without delay, he locked the gate of his flat and ran downstairs. He reached the main road now. Metro station was still some kilometer away from his place. He walked down the road to look for a rickshaw. He got the one but it was without the rickshaw puller. He scanned the area and found four persons who were standing at a tobacco shop. He spotted the rickshaw puller by his dress and called him. Tobacco is ban in Delhi and India, but Indians know that rules are made to be broken. Attitude, eh!

He took out the newspaper and started with the headlines. Suddenly, the right pocket of his jeans started vibrating. It was his phone that was vibrating. It said; 1 new message.
‘M abt 2 rch…u whr?’ He looked outside and scratched his head.
‘M in metro…u whr?’ He replied. He lied.
‘K…m gna b a bit l8…dad is nt gna drop me…cumin by bus,’ the reply came and he started smiling. Yes, it was going to be his day by now. He had always gulped her anger and scolding for being late. Today he would scold her.
‘Cnt u rch by tym? I skippd my bf to rch by tym.. :-@,’ he replied.
‘M sorry.. ’ she replied.
‘its k…cum…I wud w8,’ he replied smiling. She looked cute sad. In her message too. 
Now he adjusted his ass nicely on the rickshaw and opened news paper again and continue reading. On the way he got a bouquet packed and reached metro station.

                                                                   &&&&&

She was in black short coat and extra tight faded blue skinny jeans and a pair of black balleries. She had changed her hairstyle as she got a new Megan fox’s haircut recently. Black coat suited her fair complexion. Her eyes were decorated with extra dark eye linear. The lining blue and white bag hanged on her right shoulder. She looked more beautiful today. He saw her walking towards him from the place of the platform where the ladies reserved coach’s gates got opened. He rolled his eyes away from her back into the news paper. He wanted to show he didn’t notice her and he is a bit angry with her.
She approached him and stood before him for some time. He din’t notice. He smiled hiding his face behind the news paper and tried to compose himself as if he was very angry. She moved her left hand and started removing news paper.
 
‘Hey, you came,’ he said, pretending he din’t really see her.
‘I’m sorry for being late,’ she said, looking down at the floor below her feet.
‘Happy birth day to you…happy birthday to you….happy birthday  to my sweetheart,’ he said, hugging her. She hugged him back. He kissed her forehead.
‘This is for you,’ he said, giving her the bucket that he was hiding behind his bag.
She looked for something else. Gifts? Nope, it was the card. Birthday card. Incomplete birthday card. He took out the card and gave it to her.
‘Wow, it’s very amazing. Where did you get it? It’s looking so nice. It seems you’ve made it. hena?’ she said. He nodded. She looked at him and hugged him again.
‘I love you,’ she said, kissing his lips.
‘Oops, you bit my lips,’ he said, laughing.
‘Shut up. I don’t kiss hard.’ She said, packing her bag with the card.
They had decided to enjoy the whole day in a mall, The Great India Place. Before going there she demanded to visit Bangla Sahib Gurudwara. They went and bowed down to the god and prayed for each other.
Metro ran with its speed and take them The Great India Place within half an hour. They walked inside after getting their bags checked and bodies scanned with the metal detectors. The plan was like; coffee then playing bowling then movie then lunch and at last shopping.

It was her birthday so there wasn’t the cash scarcity like they faced on the guy’s birthday. Before entering inside the girl’s favorite restaurant, the guy cried a lot because the restaurant bill alone was supposed to gulp his wallet. The story is different today. They walked into barista to enjoy coffee. They chitchatted for some time there. He finished the coffee and the pending card work. Engineering students know how to do their work nicely in the precise amount of time. Or at last moment.


She flashed a card and some cash to the counter girl at the bowling counter. She gave a slip in return. They reached the bowling table and changed their shoes. After finishing the game they rushed to the box office of the Big Cinemas. They got two tickets for the movie Sherlock holmes. The show was about to start by 2:20pm so they were still left with some time. They entered in her favorite restaurant. The menus arrived. The waiter kept standing as the girl signaled him to wait for some time.
‘Half plate roasted chicken and two beers,’ she placed order. The guy’s mouth got wide opened.
‘You will drink?’ he asked.
‘Why can’t I drink if you can?’ she said. Her eyes looked drunk before drinking.

Reservation. Emotion. Division.

In the park. In the morning. Today's morning was like every day morning. Park was full of joggers, walkers, cops (ununiformed), deseased, trees, flowers, birds, dogs (hybrids & street dogs), benches, grasses, cricketers, kids (only few), and the stressed people. I finished walking, jogging, handshaking & welcoming. I walked down the track which ended into a children's park where I do exercises. Many people come there to do the same because kids' playing stuffs let them do exercises freely. Some looked jokers. Some looked dancers. Some looked soldiers. Some looked old enough to get buried under graves. I looked none.
I heard some people talking of muslims' reservation, which has been recently announced (promised) by our useless government. It said that muslims will get some 7-9% of reservation in government sector. For jobs. The men looked fuelled. Restless. Angry. Sad (at times). Red faced like tomatoes.
Yes, our government is now going to slice the above mentioned %age of reservation from the famous 27% of OBC reservation, which has already written a history of riots after hindi-muslim riots.
Well, they were talking of the hardships they've to undergo now to get government jobs. Their discussion turned sharp then harsh then f-words were used for govt.. This was one of the parts of one of the parks of India. It's again going other way to write a history. Repeat.
It seems this goverment hardly cares of peace & harmony in India.
India will again face riots.

What does a student think of BJP's Kushwaha drama in UP!

I’m a strong supporter of BJP. Since my childhood I’ve been seeing people hating and abusing the non-BJP leaders. Whenever any non-BJP leader visited there and asked people to vote him, they said ‘haan..haan hum vote apko hi denge.’ And as soon as the leader turned back to walk away, people used to abuse him from behind. I never understood why non-BJP leaders weren’t loved.

Time passed, I grew up and started understanding people, nature, India and its leaders. I voted BJP leaders since the year I turned 18 and got my voter id card made.

Before the day of acceptance of one of the corrupt leaders (Kushwaha), I used to think that the BJP leaders were intellectuals, well educated, pure, and non-corrupt and far better than non-BJP people. They accepted a corrupt dumb, who had already been slapped with many charges and raided by CBI.

I leave all my studies and other works to watch a TV show, called Prime time on NDTV, India, where all party leaders are welcomed to discuss the political issues. Unfortunately, they (leaders, of course) are useless at the non-political issues! On the day of acceptance of a corrupt leader, no BJP people appeared on the screen.

After supporting Anna Hazare and Lokpal bill, BJP has made some more space into the heart of the innocent Indians. Well, as far as UP election is concerned, BJP leaders know that they are not going to win with a huge difference and make government there. But they had a chance to get some more seats than the last poll.
Look at the intellectual leaders, what the hell they are doing now. They fought with full might to pass a strong Lokpal in Lok sabha and Rajya sabha. They always fought against corruption. And now they’re dying to give tickets to the corrupt leaders.

They’re accepting such leaders who are from a damn fools’ party and are corrupt from top to bottom. I heard someone saying that that dumb used to operate telephones at Maya’s residence.

Well, the reason of accepting such corrupt babus is that they would get all the votes of Kushwaha and kurmi.
Let me ask BJP:

1.Does UP contain only Kushwaha and Kurmi?
2.Don’t you trust your work that might have been done by you over there in UP?
3.Accepting some corrupt leaders would make you win and make govt. there?
4.You made govt. in Bihar only because Kushwaha and Kurmi voted you?
5.Didn’t you think of corruption before accepting such leaders?

There are uncountable questions that arise in the head of BJP supporters after this incident. BJP is losing grip over its strong supporters. You all are corrupt. No doubt, politics is dirty but don’t make it a hell. Public understand everything.

A Morning Walk

Delhi is experincing the chilly biting cold right now and it wont be benifical to come out of our extra warm quilt and hot bedrooms. Mercury is exercising push-ups and pull-ups with the temperature. Yeah it varies from 4 to 6 degree celcius. Waking up early is simply impossible for everybody right now.
But few of us love to follow the same alarm clock that they were following last summer. Yes, once you become habitual to wake up early, bed looses all its warmth attraction towards you.

30 Sec reading - Have You Opened Your Book Yet?

I open one of my books, read some lines and look at the scary diagrams and graphs. With vibrating legs, roaming heads in the virtual world, eyes fixed on a single line and the ass fighting with the chair, my head rolls back to book and again after reading the same line twice...thrice I agree that I can't sit for long.
Music is the best thing in this world that eases humans' head so I put on the headphone, switching on to the latest hindi songs. Head calms down and breaking all virtual thoughts I can study now. Repeating the same line I finish two paragraphs, avoiding numericals and graphs. Engineering students better know how to finish a 700 pages book in a single day. Finally I'm happy. I did something.
The tabla beats hitting deep into head through earphones attract the nerves more than the black letters of the book. With a smile I enjoy the song. Living alone is something that teaches a person how to enjoy each bit of life.
Well, balcony is the best place. Standing here I can enjoy the songs, can heatup my body under sun bath and can feel the little hilly wind. Looking at goers and comers and trying to read their heads is an awesome job that I love to do. A girl walks down the road. I look at her, scanning her head and body. After seconds eyes roll away from her and start lookong into the sky. I realize how beautiful are the girls. God has made the single thing best on this earth and thats woman. Sun has to fight with the clouds and fogs in the sky to show its power but it fails. Falling on the right side of my body it tries to heat me up but it fails. The reflection of sunlight from my right eye drifts my thoughts away. I look at the mightiest sun and realize that the mightiest can be defeated by the soft and velvety clouds and fogs.
The songs keep on changing, people keep walking down the roads, trees' leaves (wearing thick layers of dust) stay calm, little wind fail to make them fly, sun still tries to beat its enemies but its deteriorating, dusk is creeping up. Suddenly I feel something in my right pocket. I slip my right hand into it and take out my mobile phone. It displays 1 new message. I open the inbox and read "I've finished 3 units. Only 1 unit is left".
'Damn, I wasted two hours standing here on balcony, thinking and analyzing passersby and the natures fight. I'm finished,'I say to myself, running into the study room.

IIT graduate gets 65 lakh package from facebook!

This is a great news for the engineering stidents of India. They should feel proud of it. Our governmnent is also seeing it great. Some IITians get more. They're really very smart. After reading such news kids want to be an IITian. Unfortunately, there is limited number of seats in the IITs.

Are you feeling proud of this package stuff?
'Nope' is the single answer of all of you.
Reason? 'You're still worrying that what would you do if you're not getting a job after completetion of your B.Tech which is same as of IITians'. Suicide?

Private Engineering Colleges: The Fucking Bloodsuckers

Studying in Private colleges is always a rich affair now. Their sky touching fees like 80,000 bucks per annum or more don’t fill the never ending thrust of students’ blood suckers. After getting fees deposited by students they want more and get it anyhow from students. By any means!

These fees come under rechecking fees, filling backlog form fees, training fees, placement fees etc. Many colleges have their own way of imposing fees. Let me start with the rechecking fees.

1) This fee is taken on account of when students are not satisfied by their marks so they want their answer sheets of last examination to be rechecked. For this they have to pay more than 200 bucks per paper. Unfortunately, re-totaling is done in the name of rechecking. When you ask students about this they say it’s better not to fill rechecking form because only a fraction out of hundreds gets their marks altered. The situation is that students are biased to follow. Whenever anyone of them raises voice he/she has to feel the heat from the college managements.

2) Filling backlog form fees: the fee varies from college to college across India which is around 330 bucks per paper at private engineering colleges in Delhi. If a student fails to pay this much he/she is kept out of sitting in examination.

3) Training fees: Summer training/internship is an important part of engineering degree. Without it your engineering degree is of no use. Most of the Indian and outsider companies welcome students for training (internship) in their companies. Private colleges don’t want to leave a chance to make money out of it. They just fix a rule that students have to do one of the two summer internships from their colleges only. For it they take more than 8000 bucks from students, forcefully, of course. When a student tries to oppose this self made rule and wants to do internship from outside, he/she has to pay for it. College managements don’t issue his/her admit card of end term examination so harassed mentally. If you don’t sit in an external paper that means your degree won’t be completed in 4 years, which is a fixed time for an engineering course.

In return students get nothing. If these colleges allow the students to get summer internship outside they would learn more but these colleges play with the sentiments and future of the students. Is this the rule of AICTE?

4) Placement fees: Another new name fee, called placement fee is the fee which is taken by colleges and in return they promise the students to secure jobs for them. Most of the colleges fail to attract companies as they fail to provide quality education to students so companies try to stay away from them. Again, students are harassed by the college managements mentally if they don’t pay them this fee. The amount varies from college to college. They don’t issue admit cards of the external examination to students and keep them away from their examinations, which causes a year back.  

Rich parents hardly care. They give all the above fees politely. Most of the students are not rich. That’s the reason they study engineering, so that they would get jobs which would secure their lives.  Poor students get education loan disbursed form the banks. Thanks to the banks. But banks give a draft of fees once a year. They don’t give the above fees.

Students are harassed badly. These colleges do whatever they want. Is this the education system working in the rule of present government? This government hardly cares.

When it comes to their infrastructure you get nothing in such colleges. One big building with some useless and experienced-deprived teachers, lesser labs, lesser equipments, lesser facilities, lesser books and lesser research works are the things you find here.

India is producing maximum number of engineers and most of them are useless. The reason: these private colleges. Most of the victims are rural students whose parents dream to make their kids engineers so that they may earn and live their life happily. Indian education system is highly competitive as the birth rate is highest so the number schools, so the number of colleges but limited employment opportunities. Rich parents don’t have time to ask their kids where they spend the cash but when it comes to the poor students they have to give feedbacks to each single buck to their parents. Most of them get the education loans disbursed to pay the college fees. Thanks to Indian banks, anyway. They give loans to the fees only. What about the other fees? Where they get these fees from? They take debts again. After all no single parents would like their kids to drop any grad course. Most of the parents are farmers and you know what the condition of the agricultural system of India is. It simply sucks. Who are the accused? Leaders? Thanks to one Sardarji who planted a huge slap on the face of Mr. Agriculture minister.

Well, they take debs to pay all the fees with a hope that their kids would earn one day and they would be able to return the debts. Are these kids getting the right jobs? No, not at all! Some smart players of the education system play this game well. They attract some IT companies by paying huge amount to them without caring the branches of the students. You’re an electrical, mechanical, civil, computer science, industrial or Information technology engineering student, they don’t care they just push you into IT industries.

Most of the colleges fail to attract even a single useless IT company and the students of such colleges are left with no choice accept to work in BPOs or call centers.  Is our government sleeping? Can’t they see what’s going on in their educational systems? They just challenge that they are providing the maximum facilities to the students and their students are becoming brighter.

Many colleges call fake companies in their campuses and get their students placed into them. When the students approach these companies they get nothing there.

Most of the private colleges have some fixed percentage of seats during counseling process which are called management seats. Rich parents do auction of these seats and the one who is the richest get the seat for their kid. Are these kids going to be a good engineer? They can’t be.

THAT MIDDLE CLASS GIRL!

Like most of the Indian girls she was born in a middleclass family. Playing with cheaper toys she grew up. She wanted to play with more toys like PS etc but her parents dint like to spend more on it as they had started doing some fixed deposit stuff for her future. Most of the Indian parents do the same.
Well, she was 3 now so she had to go to school. She went and studied well. She started getting some senses. She saw her friends who were rich. The number was lesser but she loved the way they were coming to her school wearing branded cloths, carrying branded bags and expensive toys. She liked them so made some good friends. Indian education system is very competitive right from the begining. Examinations held and she topped. Her friends lover her for being good human and a topper. She was cleaver too.
Well, following the same routine and bearing her parents' scoldings she grew up. She topped secondary board and then moved to a metro city where her dad had been transferred. The life was different there. There were more rich kids. She loved the place, region, language and high profile culture. Kids usually used to come school in small and big cars. She also wanted to drive car so she decided to fight with her parents to get her a second hand car. The fight ended with a good news. She was going school by her own scooty now. She was a cleve girl. She knew her parents couldn't afford a car for themselves then how could they do for their sweetheart kid so she had aimed to get a scooty which resulted into fighting for car. Middle class kids are more intelligent than rest of the kids on earth. No doubt.
She got mixed with the rich and modern kids. A guy, who was supposed to be the richest in the school felt in love with her and one day he proposed her when she was teaching him some mathematics, sitting in his brand new shining silver mercedes car. She thought for a while and said "I love you too". She was a beauty contest winner of her school so she was getting a lot of offers. This was the reason she stuck to a single guy and was being seen as a couple. She lived happily. Her boyfriend gifted her an I-Phone on her b'day and she loved it. Roaming with a rich guy and going to the posh parties were common to her now.
One day she lost her virginity when she had sex with her guy in his car in the parking lot of the biggest mall of the city. They broke up later as the girl discovered that her guy had started looking for sex only.
She sat in the senior secondary exam and topped again. Her parents gifted her a phone now because she had thrown the gifted I-Phone into river Yamuna after breakup. She got maximum calls from the leading colleges of the city University. But she was blessed with a middleclass parents and such parents love to decide the future of their kids in India so she got admission in an engineering college. First year of her college went in making good friends and testing guys whether there was any who could love her without looking for any profit. She failed and loved being called a single. It was embracing for a beauty contest winner but she loved it. No one knew why.
A guy, wearing faded jeans, extra loose Messi t-shirt and a pair of sneakers met her in a mall where she was standing alone, waiting for her parents to come out of a store. He looked good to her. His long hair, good height, nice dressing sense and the way he approached her attracted her. Unfortunately the guy was new to that city. He loved traveling so his maximum time was being spent on traveling and listening to music.
They exchanged their numbers at first meet. Girl liked the guy and the guy loved the girl. Time passed nicely. One day they decided to date. She decided the place as he was unknown to the city. They roamed whole day, ate a lot, did bowling twice and drank fruit beer too. The date ended with a kiss at the most calm place in a mall, at the staircase!
She loved him, he loved her so they were couple now. Her life was easier now. She started getting distracted from her rich friends as she loved to roam with the new guy yet she had to pay more cash everywhere. Fortunately he was also an engineering student of the same branch so their bond was stronger. Her friends hated her because most of them proposed her but she kept refusing and was being spotted everywhere with a new guy who was not that rich.
She reached the last year of her college and she had decided to become a rich person one day so the day seemed apptoaching. She started studying more and more to get a job which could have paid her more than 10lacs per annum was not an easier task in highly competitive Indian society.
Finally the day came. She got 4 call letters from the leading companies of the world. She joined the company which had offered her the maximum package. She was an earning hand now. After 2 years she bought a big bunglow and a black Audi car for her parents. Her parents loved her more. But something was killing them as their kid had grown up matured lady now and she had been working for years and according to the Indian society they had to look for a man for her. She had got everything that she had dreamt for.
One Sunday morning the girl was having coffee with her parents, sitting on the balcony of her big house. She was surprised as her parents started talking of her wedding. She stood up, holding the coffee mug in her left hand and walked a bit away from them and started staring to the sky and said "dad, there is a guy in this city whom I love since my college days". Her parents got up and rushed to her asking many questions like "whats his caste, he is working in the same company or any other company. What are his parents doing. How much he earns etc".
'Dad, he is a painter. Painting is his passion and he has quitted his job for his passion. I love him.'

The BMW Girl!

He liked her at first sight. She did the same. She went to the metro walk mall with her friends. She got down off the black BMW. He was parking his second hand bike at the same parking. His eyes, hiding under half broken helmet rolled to the car and he kept staring for some time. The car was shining more or his eyes noticed it.

She brushed her long open hair, holding extra big sunglasses in her left hand. She was wearing check shorts which was trying to touch her shining thighs and the grey t was loose enough to cover bodies of two fat ladies. The big black leather boot was high above her ankle. He avoided her dressing sense and kept focusing in her eyes where she had already applied extra mascara. She, with her friends (all boys) walked down the footpath to reach the gate. She noticed a guy, wearing repaired helmet staring at her. She looked back. He broke eye contacts, flashing a smile.

He threw helmet next to his bike which was standing on double stand as its half stand was broken.
He chased the girl. Her friends noticed it and raised their bros and ears. He hardly looked to anybody. They entered pizzahut so did he. Damn, his wallet was empty. He dint leave the place and shifted his seat from chair to sofa where some newspapers and magazines were kept. She toased everybody and had the first bite of pizza. His mouth watered. He leaked his lips, rolling his tongue all over. He kept looking at her through a small hole he had made in the newspaper. She guessed what was going around her.

They stood up, paying their bills. He rose up hiding a magazine behind him. They entered into adventure island. He tried the same but failed to enter as entry fee was more than 300 bucks which was his monthly pocket money. He saw her going away from his sight. He wished he were a rich guy like her friends. He roamed here and there, visualizing the girl. He kept waiting, standing outside the gate of adventure island. She didn't come for long. He sat on a nearby chair and lost in the dreams.

'who is this? Leme propose this girl. Don't disturb me,' he said, opening his eyes.
He bliked his eyes as he found the same girl standing after him. He rubbed his eyes twice to check whether he was dreaming or she was there in real.
Guess what had happened next....

PIRATES OF THE PETROLIUM

Characters: The Richest guy, The poorest guy, the specs guy and the other guy.

 ‘No, no, I can’t bear it alone. My Hitler dad is going to kick my ass. You poor asses never pay me equally. I can’t do it.’ The richest of four friends said when his poor friends demanded him to get his car because it has been long they didn’t go for a night out party.

‘What your problem? Can’t you steal a key of your car?’ his friend asked.

‘Steal, huh. I want you to get a duplicate key made,’ the poorest said, releasing smoke of the cigarette, making some smoke patterns in air.

‘I can’t do it. Try to understand,’ the richest said. They were four friends out of which one was the richest and rest three were poor. They love partying late night and sleeping with the paid girls. And for this all of them required a car because neither party nor the paid girls could walk at their places, cheaply. The richest guy was tired of paying the petrol price as the inflation was at its apex. Every week petrol price hiked. After making some plans they thought of making petrol themselves but failed after knowing the process of petrol making and crude oil processing.

After a month, petrol price doubled and the car was invisible. They tried to maintain the pace with their parties and paid girls but failed. They were drinking and smoking cocaine filled cigarettes sitting under a Peepal tree on the roadside of a highway at the outskirt of the city. This was one of the ways of their parties. Strange? Youngsters love experimenting and elders hate it.

The poorest guy stood up, holding a wine bottle (concentrated) in one hand and cigarette in the other. He rubbed his eyes as extra dose of wine and cocaine filled cigarette had started plying hide and seek with his head so with the eyes.

‘I’ve a plan,’ the poorest said.

‘What?’ the rest three rhymed together.

‘We can party more and sleep with more expensive paid girls, like models,’ he took a deep sip of wine.

‘Which plan?’ everybody rose up.

‘Look there,’ the poorest said, pointing his longest finger to a tanker which was standing on the other side of highway.

‘What that?’ asked the richest one.

‘A petrol tanker. We’re going to loot it every month,’

‘Fuck you. You poors always talk of stealing and looting,’ the rich guy said, sitting back at the Peepal root.

‘Ohh, why don’t you bring your car everyday then,’ the other guy who was staring at the tanker said.

‘It seems a good idea but how would we do it?’ the silent guy said breaking his silence for the first time.

‘I would plan everything but he has to agree to bring his car for a night. I would manage the rest things,’ the poorest said, taking a deep sip and emptied bottle.

‘You all come to my place Sunday night. I’ve a plan,’ he said. After some abuses and emotional hits the richest agreed to bring his car for a night.

                                                                 &&&&

All of them were sitting on the balcony of the poorest guy’s place. The beer bottles got opened with the opener. The sound of clinking of the glasses aroused and everybody rhymed the word “cheersss”. One hour of sitting, drinking, smoking, drugging fed the plan into their heads nicely. The plan was about to be experimented the same night.

Locking door, they jumped into the car and the engine got started and steering moved to the Chandigarh highway. The highway was not that busy at midnight as the trucks were the only vehicles were visible there. Most of the truck drivers hardly care about the happenings on the roads. One of them was the target of these guys.

The car had already crossed 120 marks on the speedometer. The heavy loaded trucks were giving stiff competitions as they were running with greater speeds. The eyes of these guys were fixed on the target tanker which was increasing its speed. All they could see the tankers was the tanker’s back light. The trucks were running in a long queue where it was quite impossible to get the car in between any two of them. All were sitting in the car, wearing their seat belts tightly. The car started running in a zigzag path. It was continuously trying to plough some space between the trucks. Sometimes left, sometimes right, sometime straight, some time back. It suddenly hit the right front wheel of a heavy truck loaded with steel rods. The seat belts got broken with the stress of sudden turns but the car maintained the momentum. The truck on the other side took a sharp left turn and it went out of control of its driver in seconds and felt into a deep river. A huge splash sound of water emerged and truck sank into the heart of river.

The car was running with the speed of tanker as the driver had maintained the distance of one meter. The poorest rolled the window down, untying the seat belt. He then moved his head out. He could feel the speed of wind when it hit his face. The other guy followed him. The driver was strictly warned to focus on his work only. Driving. The specs guy (silent guy) knew his job so he kept sitting at the back seat. The poorest came out of the car carefully and climbed on the roof of the car. The other guy did the same. He was being dragged by the speedy wind that was blowing in opposite direction but his non-branded shoes were gripping the roof surface tightly. He pointed the other guy to wait. The tanker decreased its speed so the car. He felt a jerk and felt on the roof. He got up and jumped onto the tanker’s roof and planted his feet nicely. The specs guy passed a bag of pipe to the other guy who was sitting on the roof like a cat. The driver focused his job…

 [to be cont….]

Was She Really A Slut?

'How would I live without you?' She said,hugging, grabbing him tightly.
'I know you, you can live without me,' he said, cheking his Rado wrist watch. Both hugged again for the last time very tightly, letting their souls meet for the last time. The announcement was being made. He released her and walked into the crowd and vanished without looking back. She came running out, started engine and drove straight to the open field. She came out of car and kept staring at the place where she hugged her guy for the last time. The noisy sound came and she tossed her extra big sunglasses into the car. She kept staring up above into the sky. The plane appeared out of the boundary wall of IGI airport, making big noise. She visualized him sitting at the window and flashing flying kissess. Seconds passed and plane vanished out of her sight into the blue sky. Tears trickled down hed cheeks. Wiping tears she wore her extra big sunglass to hide her wet eyes and drove stright to her place.
Time passed with least speed. She tried to cope with the disaster of separation of her school sweetheart. She had least friend in college so she tried to approach some guys. Girls simply hated her as she was the best amomg them. One guy became her friend. Their friendship got broken up at the end of second month. 'Long distance relationship is really very tough to maintain,' she thought. She tried another guy then the third guy then the fourth but no one matched her sweetheart boyfriend. Nobody liked her for changing guys so frequently. Guys started saying like 'she just uses guys and kicked their ass later....she just wants a guy with a big dick....she just uses guys for timepass....she is a SLUT.' For a simple reason she was crowned with a tag of Slut. She wanted to make love again as her boyfriend left for Australia for 3 years.

30 Seconds reading!

He was very reserved kinda guy. After the first day of his college he was gaining attention of people. Few liked him so became his friends. Most hated him. He was in love with freedom. He was hardly seen in lectures even though he didn't have a girlfriend. He was always looking for roaming and enjoying. For many reasons he was hated by his teachers also. He never respected any teacher in college might be the one. His friends' heads matched his so they started partying a lot together.
One day the guy saw a girl standing the gate of an old homage. Without delay his heart felt for her. He was in love now. His friends didn't like it because they were still single. Now people around him in college getting burnt more than earlier. He knew that he was liked by only few around. Fortunately, the girl he was in love with was more in love with him. The trust bond got concreted so their relationship. He had a reason now to bunk lectures and labs. One his friends decided to message his girl,posing as the guy. His girl shown him the message and he got to know that it came from one of his friends. Without delay he started the engine his bike and reached college. The door of the classroom was closed. He opened it, asking 'may i come in sir'. He was allowed to get in. He rushed to one of his friends, pulled him out of his seat, gripping his collar tighly. Bang, bang, bang was the only sound audible in the class in front of the lecturer. The moment any one would have got what actually had happened he left the college...

[to be cont...]

Delhi 2035

Indian parents produced 700 billonth kid, marking just another milestone in the production of kids. After using so many flavord condoms and many new invented contraceptive pills parents fail to check out the reproduction of new lives.
The populaton kept increasing not only in India but also on rest of the earth so the sky toiching problems kept heaping up. Let me focus to the 700 billionth kid. Like his mom many other kids fail to suck their mom's breasts to get their mom's milk, the ultimate source of energy which is the most impotant for yoing kids. Infact their moms didn't allow feeding the kids with their own milk just to maintain their figure tight and right. After few years the kid started plying with the electronics gadgets like ps, IPhones etc in place of something like dolls and soft toys.
The population kept increasing so the the earth which was already sqeezing its size was not enough to provide space to all the humans.

[to be cont.....]