Happiness Died!

Are you happy?

No.

Look, your face expression changed. Your eyes fixed on the words whatever is written just before you. Now your head has started roaming around your everyday life which is sad and unhappy. You’ve started thinking of your sucking life.

Whatever you’re thinking is not the practical stuff. You’re thinking of your failures. Are you thinking of what else better you’ve done in your in past?

No is the blunt answer.

The life has changed drastically within last one and half decades.

What does everybody want?

To become rich, eh?

Have you ever thought of what good things are there inside you?

No, you’ve just looked at the people who’re rich. Who have cars. Who have big houses. Who have sexy girlfriends who have big boobs, nicely shaped bums and slim curvaceous figure. Who have jobs of huge package.

Well, most of you, whose eyes are staring on this story, are young boys and girls.

Let me take an example of yours, if you’ve earned some technical course and still you’re looking for a job, even if it would pay you less than how much your degree deserves. You’ve studied really very hard and that’s the reason you’ve got your degree. Education system in India is really very puzzling. I bet you, the makers of it will also get confused of what education system they’ve made.

 To get even admission in any college for graduate courses, you’ve to appear for entrance or you’ve to score more marks than required in your boards.

Everybody runs in the race of it just after completing his/her secondary boards. You’ve tried your best and you reach where you deserve. But due to the sucking planning and management of this corrupt government everybody is suffering.

Let me come to the point. You’re not happy just because you’re jobless.

Have you ever seen the people from very close, who have nice package jobs?

They’re running after better jobs and better packages. They look at the people, who have everything (Cars, big houses, jobs outside their own country, Swiss account and many other things) better than whatever they have. If, by mistake, they’ve any girlfriend or boyfriend they keep on eyes on the other girls and guys so that they can contact and propose others, leaving the present partner behind. They’re not happy with what they have got.

Whenever you remember your childhood, you miss it badly. Have you ever thought why is your school life called the golden period?

Your life is better than whatever you think. You can still live your life fully like you lived in your school days. It is quite simple.

Throw all the burdens that are breaking shoulders at this nice age. You’ve to live a long and healthy life. Don’t look at others. Rich people sucks. I’ve seen a lot of rich guys and girls from very close. Their life simply sucks.

This is a half finished story. It will be updated soon with a polish on it.

 [to be cont…]

An Ordinary Love Story

Once upon a time there was a couple. Their love story was quite simple; like any Indian love story. The guy had to run after the girl to get her. The girl was smart enough but she also had a heart and she was unaware of it. She liked the guys running after her, like the dogs fight among themselves to impress a bitch in winter. Foolish dogs! She let each single guy take chance on her and she enjoyed each one of them.

The guy studied her. He researched on her mind whenever he got a chance to go on date with her. She was tired of the discs, pubs, late night clubs and night outs. Then she chose to date the guy. The guy liked to make her roam here and there and made her eat cheap foods from roadside and made her drink unhealthy water as he was not able to get packed water and expensive food. She knew she would fall unwell after reaching home in the evening as her digestive system never supported roadside food but she liked to walk with him, talk to him and listen to his thoughts like a fool. She knew the importance of the poor guy who didn’t have any value to the world, and nor to his parents.

After some months she decided to stop changing boyfriends and stay with a single guy as she was getting bored with doing the same thing; dating the guys, listening to their fake promises, listening to their requests that demanded her to sleep naked with them into their beds. The poor guy never asked her for the same.

He wanted a girl. She looked perfect to him as she was rich enough and matched his routine. She spoke to him when he had time. She knew he was a very busy person. The guy was no lesser than a machine. He woke up at five in the morning, hitting the park for jogging and exercising, liked to make his breakfast on his own, and then he had to go for his office and after coming back he got some time to talk to the girl. She was also a busy person so she knew the importance of time and tried to wait for the guy to be free. They enjoyed hearing each other and discussing their whole day stuff everyday and it never bored them.

They started dating on Saturdays. They roamed. They enjoyed lunch together. They watched movie. Before seeing off each other the girl liked to give him a tight warm hug and the guy said bye after kissing her forehead.

They were in love. One day the guy proposed her. She said no. But they kept roaming on the same way. It was the girl’s birthday when her soul forced her to accept that she was in pure love with the guy. But she let the guy propose her twice. He did it and she accepted after saying yes, no, no, yes, no, no, yes.

On that day, the girl showed herself. She wanted to enjoy each single moment with the guy so she asked him if she could visit his place. She desperately wanted to be alone with the guy somewhere out of the city irritating life. So she asked the guy if she could visit his place. He was shocked to hear it as he never expected the girl to do so.

Without delay they reached the guy’s place which at the outskirt of the city. It was very peaceful place. It was away from noisy city life. The guy loved peace and his salary never allowed him getting a rented flat in posh area.

As soon as they entered the guy’s flat the guy locked the door from inside. They started with smile on their lips and the time came for which they might have waited for long. With some resistance the girl let the guy unbutton her shirt and then she fought a lot to get her jeans unbuttoned. She lost the fight as button flew of its place with a pop sound and landed on the bed. Then they explored each other, crossing all the limits that Indian culture had fixed that an Indian couple must not do before wedding.

The worst days came when they began to get more and more in their life. They started behaving like ordinary Indian middle class youth. They realized the importance of time and the phase they were going through. Yes, they had stopped thinking about each other. All they could think of was their career and future. Both of them were intelligent. They worked really quite hard.

The girl was busy in preparing for civil services and the guy had got an unexpected promotion. The guy had got higher designation with six months of his working duration that he might have gotten after working and getting some experience of three years. His shoulder was loaded with high responsibility. He became busy in his works as the workload was quite higher. On the other side, the girl began to study like Bihari IAS aspirants. So she could hardly get a second to share with any other living creature than her books.

The time came when they could hardly bear each other. They stopped meeting on Saturdays. The Indian highly competitive forced them to do break off. They did it one day. Just for the sake of formality they spoke to each other over phone twice a week and they forgot each other soon as if they had never known each other since the universe were made.

The Boy And The Old Man

To jog, to stretch my arms, legs, neck, body and everything except sexual organ, I reach park very early in the morning. First, I warm up my body before jogging like drinkers spice their tongue and mood before taking the first sip of the colorful wines.

The morning is not the same like every day. Small water loggings look like small lagoons there among the small grasses and tiled tracks. It has rained heavily last night. The air is still and the atmosphere calm. The wet branches look blacker, the leaves newer as the rainwater has washed away all the dirt that city pollution has deposited over them. The grasses look fresh. The birds chirp more. They even cry and fight with each other. The crows tease other the bird species with their idiocies. Some broken braches lie on the wet red track as if a young man was made to bend his head down forcefully.

I begin to jog.

I jog.

I stop.

I jog again.

I look here and there.

I jump into grass.

I dance.

I sniff the smell coming from either grass or trees or the leaves or anywhere.

Snif. Snif. Snif.

Like a dog.

Yoga people look at me, confused.

I stare back at them.

They resume inhaling and exhaling the air around.

I close my eyes.

Opening eyes, I start running, suddenly.

I run to the other end.

I pause, breathing, heavily.

I start to weep.

An old man comes near and asks 'what happened?’

I open my eyes wide at him. He gets scared.

‘Are you an old man?’

‘Me?’

‘Yes, you.’

‘Yes, I'm the one.’

‘Ok.’ I stop sobbing.

‘Why were you weeping?’

‘Was I really?’

‘Yes, you did.’

‘No, I dint.’

‘Okay.’ The old man turns right and starts running quickly away from me, screeching, mad, mad, mad.

I look at myself, confused then begin running behind him, crying, where, where, where?’

The old man paces his speed. I do the same. He stops, suddenly.

‘What do you want?’

‘Nothing.’ Then I continue, ‘what can you give?’

‘Nothing.’

‘I knew.’

‘What?’ The old man tries to walk away, but I grip his wrist tightly. He shivers, looking at me and at his wrist, at times.

‘What do you want?’

‘Answer.’

‘Answer?’

‘Yes.’ I said, losing the grip around his wrist. He breathes calmly.

‘Were you a child one day?’ I ask.

‘Yes, I was.’

‘Do you still remember those days?’

‘Yes, I do.’

‘Why?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Okay, tell me one thing.’

‘What?’

‘Why don’t the past stop running after me?’

The old man thinks sincerely over my question and in place of answering he asks, ‘why are you asking?’

‘What?’

‘The past and all.’

‘I want to know, that’s why.’

‘What kind of past you are talking of, young man?’

‘Rain,’

‘Rain?’

‘Yes,’ I nod vigorously then I begin, ‘the old rains were nice when I was a kid. I used to focus on each single micro thing that I had seen in the morning after heavy rain of the previous night. I could feel the things around me. But now I can’t feel the things around me. I think, think, and think.

I could go to the gardens. I could see the wet mango trees. I could try to not let my slippers slip on the wet and slippery earth. I could smell the earth and the ripening guava. I could not run like this that day. I could sit and enjoy, seating on the broken branches. The branches on which I once wanted to climb but never did but after………..

The Drama of Team Anna!

'Corruption is a malaise that cannot be cured overnight – certainly not from the top. Corruption is a disease that needs to be addressed from the bottom.’ I want to hear these words in Rajesh Khanna’s tone.

Anna became a hero last year when he sat on fast at Jantar Mantar for a day. But the fast got stretched longer than he and his team that emerged out later couldn’t have dreamed of. This year, we saw there were very least people interested in this movement.
Movement se yaad aaya; No political party is more powerful than a movement in a democracy or even in a monarchy. There are a lot of examples in the Indian history that say movement is movement and it can let a government down within a day. Well, members of team Anna are great people and they know India (its history, geography, social and political life, administration and what not) better than any professor or researchers of the respective subjects better. But finally, they have decided to enter into politics. Such decision can’t be taken in hurry. Most of the people welcomed this announcement of Anna.
I'm confused whether it’s a right or a wrong decision. He may be right because the master brains like Arvind Kejriwal, V. K. Singh and many great people have decided it. I also welcome it. But the movement was a very easy way to get the LokPal bill introduced. To introduce a bill nobody would show any interest in entering into the politics and without politics no government can be formed and without a government no constitution can work. But we want a fair government and for it we need fair politics which is played by great minds and that are lacking in the Indian politics since long.
It’s quite hard to stop fingers when they start typing anything in the laptop when the head broadens its thought and range. Well, I sat to write about corruption that can’t be cured in a day and my head leads my fingers to the topics like politics and government for which I'm just an infant right now.
I'm an electrical engineer and I work in a power distribution company. I meet a lot of people everyday regarding electricity theft and many other cases. Before completing any case each single consumer begins to say like ‘Sir, chae pani karlo.’  There are a lot of such code words that they use and I, the newest engineer to the company understand the meaning of Chae pani and whatever language they use. Some smart people emerge with thick bundle of yellow notes or red notes and they try to slip the bundle either into my shirt’s pocket (when the notes are lesser) or into trousers’ Pocket (when the bundle is big). In short, they try to give bribe so that officials can let them do whatever they want to do with the power supply of their company.
Do I take such bundles that I’ve never seen in my hand before?
The answer is a blunt NO.
I just tell them to stop bribing young Indians because we’re the future of our motherland and it’s been only 65 years of Independence and it’s a very small period for a big country like India so our country is still young and the words like bribe shouldn’t have any place here.
The officers are not corrupt. The police are not corrupt. The politicians are not corrupt. No system is corrupt. It’s the public who are corrupt that try to bribe the officials. The Indians want their work done by any means even if that step is paying illegal cash. If a common man starts thinking of his country. No corruption will take place then. There won’t be a need of team Anna who finally entered into politics in which a God would be supposed to become corrupt.

[to be cont…]

Will be back by 9th of June. :)

Private Engineering Colleges: The Fucking bloodsuckers!

Studying in Private colleges is a very rich affair now. Their sky touching fees like 80,000, 100000  bucks per annum or even more than that doesn'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.

Come forward, I know each single student has hatred for his/her college. Post your stories here and let this sleeping government know that it can’t play with the future of Indian students any more.

The Viva!

There are few students who never care for their studies since they were small kids and there are some kids who are smart enough but become careless when they come to know that they would get nothing out of their hard work.

I and my friend Mangal fall in the second category. I’d reached to the college late not only because I don’t have car but also because I had to meet my girlfriend who never bothers of my time. I'm happy she cares of hers! Mangal reached the college even later than me.

In fourth year of engineering colleges, it becomes a fashion or custom; not to go college. The ones who still go (despite knowing the custom) are considered fools or Chootias. It was the viva of one subject. Amm, I’ve forgotten the name of that subject. Wait for a while. Let me remember the name of the subject. Well, I get confused with short form names of the subjects. Engineering students called the subjects by their short cut names. The names are good till the day last external paper of that semester takes place. After that day, it becomes harder for the students like me to remember the short names as all the short names appear the same or rather mixing up like Khichdi. Oh, yes, it was the viva of ES (Embedded System). ES meant Electrical Science when we were in the first year. It’s not all my fault only that I always get confused with the short names. You see!

It quite hard to ignore the people who were once your friends and they’ve become your enemies now. It happens in everybody’s life. Especially in college days. They become friends in first year and fight with each other when they fail to see their own friends' either rising high or doing pretty well with the girls.

Mangal was still to see the main gate of the college so I chose to sit in the library so that I could read some news papers and magazines in peace and also could keep my enemies out of my sight. People, who know to love and respect a lot, also know how to hate madly and kick ass when it’s required. Well, I just flipped through the pages of the news paper and looked at the photos that started from the third page of the Delhi times that began with some half naked rich Indian ladies and ended into almost full naked western ladies. I wondered if becoming richer reduces clothes then the richest ladies might not go to shop dresses ever. There was a time when the beauty of a lady was judged by the prettiness of her face. But time has changed now. Not only guys but also girls judge a lady by the attractiveness of her whole body, from her hairstyle to her stylish sandals via many things.

Finally the viva started with the arrival of Mangal. He looked here and there in hurry and passed some lude comments on the passing by girls who looked prettier. I never understood why he always stared so badly on the bosom of any lady. We walked downstairs to the canteen to have some bread pakoras.

After some time we came to know that the practical file of the subject was very necessary to give viva. I cursed Gyan, who lived in the street in which I have my rented house. I abused him for not telling me that he had done file work and didn’t even bother to tell me. Whenever I go out to have some fast food I just call him to share the food despite knowing that he seldom shares the price of the food equally.

The problem was that the college is at a place where you can see nothing except wheat fields all around the college like the college is a small island in the middle of the green sea. I acted smart and moved into the hall where the viva had just started.

‘Sir, can we give viva without file?’

‘Tell me your roll number. I want to circle your roll number with red ink.’

‘Sir, please.’

‘Fuck off.’

Then I and Mangal ran downstairs and moved out of the college. I roamed around the parking lot where a lot of expensive cars and bikes were standing. Many of my classmates have cars and bikes but we didn’t prefer to ask them just because the guy whose car I would have asked for has become my enemy and the other guy who had a nice bike couldn’t give his bike to us because Mangal had slipped under the truck with the bike when it was brand new. And another guy couldn’t give us the bike because he always thinks I would screw up his bike whenever I get to ride on it. Rest, we didn’t care who else had the cars and bikes.

After roaming around I became friendly with a first year student and request him to give his bike for five minutes when we spotted him teaching his bike to a extra black guy who was probably the same year student. He became ready and went out with Mangal.

After sometime we had the files in our hands but empty. We asked some guys for their files and selected the one that was most beautifully written. It was a girl’s file. We sat and wrote the file with our maximum speed. After an hour the files were complete and looked like any guy could have written the files better even when they would have been asked to write for the rough use. But we’d the files now.

After pushing some guys away from our way we rushed into the hall where viva was being taken. Our turns (according to our roll numbers) were still to come but we preferred to finish the work off and leave for our homes. It looked like a formality. And that’s the reason we’d never got good percentage of marks in any semester despite scoring high in the external papers.

‘Good morning sir,’

‘Good after noon sir.’ Mangal said and looked at me as if I would have said something wrong there. I corrected ‘good after noon sir’ with a smile on face that disappeared after showing my teeth to the viva taker.

Can you believe we dint even know the name of that teacher? In fact, we didn’t know who else our teachers were and what our subjects were. Many guys become the same.

We put our files on the table before us, facing the teacher.

‘What are your roll numbers?’

Mangal told our roll numbers.

‘You tell yours only.’

‘Okay sir.’

The viva started with the question that we’ve been hearing since the first viva we gave in our college; what have you studied?

We were all prepared with the answer.

‘Sir, we’d our NPCIL paper yesterday, so--.’

‘Okay, so how did you do in the paper?’

‘Very well sir.’

After fooling him for some time we reached at the topic on which we’d to give our viva.

‘Sir, I’ve just heard that you’re asking current affairs and not the questions from ES.’

Mangal kicked his left foot on my right foot. I recognized he had told to me not to act smarter or foolish before the teacher. Before I could have uttered anything the teacher had fired a question from the current affairs.

‘What the capital of South Africa?’

‘Sir, Johannesburg.’

‘Cape town.’ Mangal corrected my answer. I realized that I shouldn’t have spoken of the current affairs to the teacher.

‘Who is the president of South Africa?’

‘Sir, he is a coal black man. I can’t remember his name but I had seen him when he was giving trophy to Yuvraj Singh after a match there.’

‘You?’ the teacher pointed his bros towards Mangal now.

‘Sir, pass.’

‘Okay,’

‘How many oceans are there on this earth?’

‘Seven.’

‘Name them.’

‘Okay.’

‘Is Tibet a country?’

‘No sir.’ Mangal gave the answer. Well, it was my turn to act smart. I’d heard a lot about Tibet and Dalai Lama so I gave five minute lecture on Tibet.

Similar questions were asked and the face of the teacher became blood red when he saw my file then Mangal’s. He put a sign before the names of the experiments in the index and then he circled our roll numbers with red ink.    

This is how things go on in the modern engineering colleges and that’s the reason our country fails to produce quality engineers. But still we feel proud to be engineers!

The Sleep

Body tired.
Legs paining.
Tummy full of dinner.
Mouth opening and closing as if it is inviting something to be in.
Jaws streching.
Legs streched on the handle of other chair.
Eyes are fighting really very hard to escape sleep like a dog fighting to snatch out a bone out of his shadow holding bone in its mouth.
Facebook too failed.
Cant read.
Have started writing a crime fiction.
Have some other writing stuff to do.
Cant have tea.
Have to brush.
Gf will kill me tomorrow if I sleep before her arrival into bed!
Good night.

Hope

Everyday we wake up early in the morning. Some hate it. Our works are automatically done by us timely as though we've become machine. Some people start their days speedly, some do it lazily. But the fact is that we all have to start working.
Most of us live a life below medium class. Every morning we daydream to become rich one day and do our works very honestly for the whole day. After having normal dinner we go out to walk for a while and our eyes start staring at the expensive cars and big houses. We again dream that we'll be rich and buy cars one day. Some get shocked and angry coz they think 'we work so hard and we're still walking on our feet and these rich assholes drive car. WTF'.

Thats the life here.
India is a country where rich is becoming richer and poor poorer.

Goodnight.

To my readers

I want to update blogs but I just fail.  After waking up early by sharp 5am and then jogging & exercising in the park and whole day busy schedules make body tired.
After dinner eyes start getting closed themselves. I open a book and try to read some lines but fail to pace up my speed. Then messages start coming from my sweetheart. I clean bed and after brushing my teeth I just collapse into bed. Eyes try to open to see the phone screen after hearing some message tones, hands move and hold the phone and try to read the texts but eyes get closed again and make me roam and float in my dream.
I've a lot of half or more than half completed fictions to update. After finishing my book I'll update each day with a new fiction.

Good night.

Old Delhi

Old Delhi: the place where you'll like to spend every Sunday morning.
For shopping?
No! We don't have shopping malls there.
Then?
Muslim made chicken?
No, who'll like to eat chicken in the morning.
Then?

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.