MTV ROADIES 5.0

Hashmi rocks, and Hashmi robs (girls' aabru) doesn't he? His latest prey being the very very sexy Sonal Chauhan - the "Jannat' girl. How often have we seen him taking the heroin's top off (I am sure Tanushree will agree !). But this time I am very angry. There is already such a dearth of beautiful gals in the rajput fraternity and he has robbed another one from us. Screw him !!

Talking about beautiful gals, its worth discussing the latest teen sensation and bachelors' hot favorite - Shambhavi Sharma (pic left) from MTV Roadies 5.0 !! She is good, but not as hot as she keeps on claiming every episode.

Anyways, I wonder what these roadies think of themselves. For me, Roadies is the abbreviation for "Road Chhap". These days all Berozgars have got a new dream to rekindle their hopes. They all want to be a roadie.

You must see the auditions once. Huge crowd fighting among themselves in the GD round. And the judge is a big time duffer, old looking fellow who, to me, appears like a Professor of Hindi Language. No surprise he looks completely lost and overwhelmed by the overzealous public. Usko wahan kisne bithaya yaar !!!

There is this group of guys who say on TV that they have spent the entire night on the ROAD in the most terrible conditons - to which Rannvijay joshfully replies "to yehi to ROADies ka matlab hai ... " and a huge roar follows. Idiots !!! But kudos to Rannvijay. Achchha kaata.

And then in the interview round, enters the most overrated individual on indian soil right now. The ultra Ugly and immensly chutiya RAGHU RAM. Oh my god, he is so irritating... he can give Himesh Da a run for his money anyday.

Raghu (pic left) is madly after everyone's ass. I think he should be given some Nobel award or something in Human Psychology. In just 5 min (or 1-2 questions) he soon comes up with the entire lifehistory of the person with all the details; accurately predicting both the candidates' past and future. And all the Roadies participants who think themselves to be the most adventurous guys/gals in India are seen petrified outside the interview room. "Raghu meri maar lega ... God save me from Raghu"

If sometime I meet Mr Raghu Ram I am desperate to ask him that what has he done in life that he thinks himself to be such a dude. His very name Raghu Ram is so .. so Crude and so RURAL. And his looks, masha allah. But would you believe it, some gals can go to such limits to go to roadies that they say they have a crush on that 'bald bastard '. My reaction was "you gotta be kidding me, girl!!! Hum jaise mar gaye hain kya."

And all the mess starts with only one question which I don't think has any answer that is not debatable "WHY DO YOU WANT TO BE A ROADIE" Now what do you say to that. And these duffers, they can't even lie properly. Sample this:

"What kind of adventure have you done? "

"I have not done any adventure so far but I want to do so. I am very adventurous by nature. I am not an adventurer but an adventurous"

What the F man !!! Since when did you have to pay money to speak lies. Tell them na that I have done numerous trekking, Speed Biking, Long Drives ... But no .. Everyone wants to impress the judges by their honesty, i suppose. Honesty my foot !

Speaking of the episodes, well they are ... vulgar and believe me, they are vulgar. In every episode Rannvijay's (pic right) patent dialogue "roadies 5.0 - the game goes international" follows atleast 5 times.


Girls speaking all kind of foul words that you can think of, people eating locusts and snakes (yuckkkk ) and guys getting their hair waxed(in the most brutal of ways) all this just for the so called "roadie spirit" ... which is nothing but bullshit.

But all said and done, one cannot deny the following conclusions:

# Shambhavi Sharma is a maal !!! (inspite of the padding accuses against her :)

# Sonel (note the metamorphosis of the name from sonal to ... ) is a dark horse and is as tall as a horse

# Prabhjot's school must be audited for we all wonder what kind of education are they giving the children (how many gaalis have they taught her in such little time)

# Nihal must learn that 'actions speak louder than words'. So better show us something other than just your badi badi baatein

# Snehashish pakka paise deke aaya tha Roadies mein .. he was anything but a roadie

# Hashmi is arguably the luckiest man in India today


# Amrita Rao is looking damn gorgeous in the new Cornetto ad.

# IPL Hyderabad ki team hi jitegi because thats the one i am supporting

# Hrithik's Krazzy4 dance is swashbuckling to say the least, he is the GOD of Dancing

# Kay Kay and Atif DA rocks (courtesy Aasman ke & Pehli nazar mein resp.)

and

# ... writing a blog during duty hours ... Rig life is not that bad, afterall !!!

I WAS HAPPY !!!

Once upon a time, I was very happy.



My parents loved me so much. My mother had spent 7 years away from her husband just for my good schooling. My father toiled day in and day out to muster sufficient money for our living. But hey, no need to get emotional, ok! The story is not a sad one.

I too had never let them down; topping in every class, every exam. I kept myself away from the prettiest of faces; some of whom actually craved for me. I had to make it at any cost. And guess what, I did! I can still remember the hope in my mother’s eyes while she was seeing me off to give my JEE. Under immense pressure, I cracked it!!! And the family could see the dreams of a bright future ahead for the first time. I further provided the icing on the cake when I joined IIM Calcutta, though IIT Kharagpur had provided me a lucrative job. How nice, isn’t it. A dream come true for any bachelor.

I studied and studied and studies dragged me farther and farther away from all the glamour of a bachelor’s life. No girls, No beer, No masti.

But I was happy. I joined a big software firm with a plump salary package. My father was elated. I had raised his status in the society. He was flooded with marriage proposals. Some of them good, some irrefutable.

And guess what, I was engaged to a damsel. A drop dead gorgeous, highly educated and a very rich gal. What a story, isn’t it. But nothing is perfect. So what’s the twist??

One day changed it all.

Well you must be thinking that I am the typical IITian nerd, boring and sparkless. As a matter of fact I am not. That night, we were in a party in a disc known as the Enigma. Everyone was on a high, some with their wives while some with their girl friends. I must admit I felt slightly lonely. But suddenly a girl approached me, pretty, beautiful , gorgeous; oh forget it, SEXY!! She was a Russian, rich looking. We chatted, we drank (me for the first time) I told her that my marriage was 1 month ahead. Then slowly and gradually, I don’t know when, my desires got the better of me and next morning when I woke up besides her on the bed, I felt kinda bad. She quietly took out some money from my wallet and left. I was shocked, perturbed, horrified. Was she a commercial sex worker?? No she can’t be. But what if she is? All these questions kept bombarding my mind throughout the day and finally, I had to get over it.

I went to a clinic to get myself tested for HIV. The doctor asked me to come after 3 months for a simple HIV test costing Rs. 300 which required 3 months incubation period for the virus to be detected. “3 months!!! I’d die with anxiety by then. No doc! Do it quickly”, I said.
“Ok then…come after 1 month. I’d do another test but it’ll cost Rs. 2000”, replied the doc.
“Money doesn’t matter. Even 1 month is too large!”
The Doc then finally called me after 10 days to run a test costing Rs. 18000. I agreed.

The next 10 days were the longest days of my life. I couldn’t concentrate on my work, couldn’t talk to my parents properly and just kept praying to god to pardon this only mistake of mine.

Finally the day came. I went to the temple and then straight to the clinic. I didn’t feel this nervous even on the day of my JEE or CAT. Finally, the doc gave me the reports.





I was detected HIV positive. I stood rooted to the spot, couldn’t speak. The only thing I muttered, “This is not possible !”
The doc said, “Why? You had sex with an unknown girl without protection.”.
“But Doc, she was a Russian!”
“So what…HIV transcends all nationality? 85% of the sex workers in Mumbai are HIV +ve Don’t talk stupid”
“Hmm…so how much time do I have?” I spoke in a state of intense trauma.
“10 years...with exercise and proper diet, it can be extended up to 15-20 years”
“What about the anti-retroviral drugs available in the market??”
“The best ones cost 50000 rupees per month. The cheaper ones have terrible side effects...”

50000 a month was too costly for even me to afford.

“So, what should I do now...?”

“Nothing…tell only your parents about it. And yes, cancel your marriage! Ask your fiancé that she must refuse to marry you. You’ll have to tell her.”

“I can’t tell my parents. They’ll die of shame. And the marriage can’t be cancelled either. All the cards have been distributed, hotel booked, every arrangement has been made. It’s just not possible to cancel it”

“Hmm….I see…Ok then, you’ll always have to use protection while sex. And of course, you’ll never be able to father a child”


One mistake and it was all over. Living with your death certificate in your hand is worse than death. And not being able to share it with anyone is as bad as it can get. My life was on lease. But should I tell my parents. Make their life miserable too. Not telling would kill me, telling would kill them. And what about that innocent girl? How can I play with her life for my selfishness? My parents on one had and to be wife on the other. Life became a hell. What should I do?? How can life be so cruel to me? What should I do!!



So where’s the twist in the story. Was this the climax or is there a happy ending.


Well, the real climax is that THE STORY IS A GENUINE TRUE STORY and currently I AM A MARRIED MAN!!!


But one thing is for sure.





Once upon a time I was very happy!!!

[I was told about this story by a doc in a first aid class recently. I was so touched that I wanted to convey this message to everyone I can. The story is actually TRUE. This is just a small attempt towards AIDS awareness from my side. Hope you would appreciate it]

ISHQ , MOHABBAT aur PYAR....

Sounded weird didn't it !! Ever wondered why should it always be Pyar Ishq aur Mohabbat and not the other way round. See, this is what they say as thinking out of the box ...I say why go inside the box in the first place. Nyways what we'll talk about here is perhaps the most quotidian yet the most intriguing as well as interesting question that is at the focal point of most teen discussions today : WHAT IS LOVE ??

Well the same question was asked by my english teacher once in my school days and a girl very innocently (rather tried to be innocent) defined it as "what we have with our mother and a mom has with her child blah blah blah" Well its remarkable how perceptions differ with age!! These days even before falling in love with his mom, a boy falls in love with mallika sherawat. Well their definition of love would then be so ....physical :) Anyways I hope i dont have the former species of audience (if any then they rather log off)

Just digressing from the topic, once in a hindi movie i heard a father (kulbhushan kharbanda i think he was) saying this dialogue to his son "pyar to insaan ko bahut baar ho jaata hai par mohabbat sirf ek baar hoti hai" ... interesting na...i never knew that all these synonyms for love had such different meanings..

so TIP #1: Never use these words interchangeably :)

Moving on. Well most of our earliest perceptions of love derive their roots from the hindi movies and TV serials. And unfortunately, in most cases this continues to be the only source till marriage. Doston ko hi dekhkar pyar ko samajh bhi jaate hain aur unki galtiyon se seekh lekar hi kabhi pyaar karte hi nahi. These guys pretend and boast themselves of being very intelligent But are they really ??? Well for that you'll have to attend the practicals, theory just somehow doesn't suffice in this case.

so TIP#2: LOVE is a practical exercise aur sadly ismein lab partners nahi ho sakte !!!

But don't you under estimate these guys' concepts, i tell you. Well take my case, for example. If you ask me what does it really take to sweep a girl of her feet, i'd say my 4 golden rules:

#1 Show respect for her

ex. listening her patiently, be it however nonsense

never looking at other girls (atleast while she is around)

#2 Impress her best friend

Again very important. Once this is done, half the battle is won. But take care, dont over impress otherwise i've seen cases where proposals have been refused just coz her good friend was mad bout the guy. :)

#3 Looks don't matter

Infact i'd go one step further to say that it is quite the opposite. Most of the prettier gals have not so pretty boyfriends (although they wouldn't agree. For them, he'd always be the cutest) Being more handsome might sometimes be a disadvantage as gals then start feeling less secure.

OFF THE RECORD #1: This is the most popular way of covering up for some one's looks....he is CUTE...

How many of you agree that usually the best friend of an amazingly good looking gal is generally not so good looking (with all due respect). Its so because generally girls are very jealous of other's looks. Well that gives us my tip number 4

#4 Always satisfy your sweetheart's ego

meaning refrain from praising her friend's or for that matter any gals' looks in front of her (untill you just can't stop youself :)) For you she should always be way above the rest.

And there are sundry more....always look in her eyes, care for her smallest of things, never forget the birthdays and many other days that have come up, etc. etc.

But the point that I wanted to make was that how even without falling in love I managed to have a decent level of understanding about gals? And if so, then why people like me aren't so successful even after possession of all these tips and tricks ?? For people who don't quite agree with my fundas, well in that case they already have the answer to the latter question.

The catch here is of course that have I really not fallen in love ever before ?? Well keep reading and you'll soon find out...

LIFE KE FUNDE -1

Some people at Kgp sing, some dance, some play cricket,footer, etc. while others play guitar, synth ... well the point is that almost all have learned some skill or the other during their 4 yrs of stay here. Me - naah, i cannot play(dont get fooled by the cricket gold), cannot sing(represented MS in interhalls though), cannot dance (yet I have 2 choreo golds thanks to Nehru), cannot this cannot that.....so what exactly have I learnt here, what do I know that others dont .....the answer is simple and unique - Life ke Funde

Life ke Funde by itself is gigantic, encompasses atmost all aspects of life but what I am going to discuss here is the most important and the spiciest of them all - Bandi ke funde.

Most of the boys here at Kgp dont have girlfriends - lets call this species galhungry. Their natural habitat is all the boys hostels in IIT while they thrive the most in KGP. These biodiversity amongst this species is fascinating. While some claim themselves to be of the Pure breed (galhungry right from the birth almost), others may be classified as Semi Galhungry type which means they have had girlfriends for some time in their lives. These people keep on listening to romantic songs and savoring all the beautiful moments that they have had with gals. Lucky Fellas !!! There are still others who are termed as Hybrid variety meaning they have a girl but not exactly a girlfriend. These people are much revered just for their sheer access to gals and can be found usually chiding and preaching the others with stuffs like "Ek ladka aur Ladki dost bhi ho sakte hain" "Tum log junglee ho chuke ho...u guys are sick". And the last breed is that of the Struggling type who are trying really hard for a girlfriend.

Let us take some specific examples to understand the situation better. For ex. in our hall we have guys like Pappu, Tushki, Ashish_mess from the Pure breed whilst others such as Pulli, Kubbu in the Semi Galhungry zone. A good example of the Hybrid variety is Pushpi who is lectures galore when it comes to gals. And Struggling type- well thats not hard to find. The latest cub to be born here is Ujju. Gomzi is another. ME - well u'll have to define a separate category for that. As for now I would rather call myself a Dormant Breed. But not Extinct mind you.

This is the end of lecture 1. In this next session we'll talk about the reasons behind the alarming growth rate in population, possible remedies, pros and cons of being galhungry etc etc. Keep waiting !!!!

TAGGED TILL DEATH !!!


Hmm...this tagging business seems to be the latest tone buzzing in the campus after hundreds of obnoxious forwards in my mailbox (as pointed out by Dash). As a novice in blogging, I will certainly take up the gauntlet thrown by Shishri. However the topic I must say is as boring as reading the MORONIC VERSES composed by our very own Dash. Still here are the 8 must-be features in my perfect lover:

1. She should be RICH. And by rich I mean rich of thoughts not money; as girls with riches are generally bitches.

2. She must be SICK. And by sick I mean sick for me not physically; as girls with sickness generally suffer from weakness.

3. She must be sweet as a TART. And by tart I mean a pie, not of the character as a kaaam wali bai; as girls who are tarts give me kick starts.

4. She must be SIMPLE. And by simple I mean simple of character not of qualifications; as girls who are simple have less pimples.

5. She must be HUMBLE. And by humble I mean humble of nature not of Birth or Origin; as girls who are humble seldom grumble.

6. She must be LABORIOUS. And by laborious I mean laborious in work not in bed; as girls who are laborious are generally late in commminnnggg (coming to home of course)

7. She must be ITCHY. And by itchy I mean having itchy feet(travel enthusiast) not itchy skin; as girls who are itchy generally like B-TEX sorry B Techs.

8. And lastly, she must like CHINESE. And by chinese I mean chinese good, not chinese food; as girls who like chinese put mine at ease. (wallet yaar...grow up)

Well well well, this was not so tough. If you have any such girl in mind, plzz write about it in the comments. Its absolutely FREE!!!!

All I would say in the end is that friends GAG someone, STAG someone but dont TAG someone. It suxxxx big time !!!

Life at Cross-RAILS

(A rib-tickling 100% authentic saga of a present IITian)

The Indian railways have a labyrinthine network of 81511 Km and the network is ever burgeoning. But every new train that is added adds also to the confusion and difficulties of some poor, befuddled people whose lives get entangled in the cobwebs of railway to such an extent that makes us guffaw at their pathetic predicament.

This anecdote is about a perfectly sane IITian who had probably his worst day in the office. The DP hols had just begun and as with all of us, pangs of nostalgia began to gnaw at him. He had to go to Ranchi but the water-tight schedule of the mid-sems had forbidden him from making a reservation. So he chose to go via JAM by ISPAT Exp scheduled at 8.30 a.m. the next day. So thrilled he was that even the last 2 days ‘night-outs’ could not muster up enough sleep for him. Further adding to his woes was the high decibel music being played in the wing to mark and celebrate the end of the mid sems.

Suddenly a sinister idea sprang up in the mind of one of his mischievous friends who woke him up. After a brief tête-à-tête, through cogent arguments he managed to fuel him with enough tempo to convince him to go by the 5:30 a.m. local train to JAM. (Considering the biting cold, the tempo needs to be very high man) And this is where the trouble began.

With snoozy eyes, he began packing his bag at 4:00 a.m. prepared for a 3^rd consecutive night-out (I can tell you that too needs some cali). Suddenly he realized that it had gone very late and after hurriedly bidding good bye to all his mates, he set off for a rickshaw. The rickshaw puller was an old one but they somehow managed to reach the station at 5:30 am. Now a quandary of whether to take a ticket or not enveloped him. The sluggish pace of the queue made him dash towards the sub-way but half way through he finally found himself short of enough audacity to travel WT. So he again ran back to the ticket counter where a middle aged railway virtuoso (experienced campaigners generally found on every platform with a typical load-mat-le look) told him that the train would come on platform 1 at 6:30 am.

Relieved and tired as he sat on a bench, he saw a local train come and halt at the cusp of platform 1 and 3 in the same direction. Startled and amused by the surprise arrival of a train before time in India and also by the almost empty compartments, he gleefully captured a window seat and the train set rolling. As he kept wondering about the empty compartment and the frigid atmosphere, Lady Sleep got the better of him.

Suddenly the cacophony of a station roused him from his kip. He found an old rustic woman poking at him and asking him his intended destination. He jabbered “Jamshedpur” nervously and her answer was something that took him off his feet. Yes she said,”Eta Tata na, eta MIDNAPORE. Jodi Kharagpur jete hobe, to tara tari samner train ta dhore nao….DAURAO… ”

From whatever little Bengali he knew, all he could decipher was that it did not sound good. He leaped out of the bogie, ran madly across the platform and just about managed to cling on to the train. Obviously he had no ticket and so the curses to god for destroying his sleep and his journey were also mingled with prayers to keep the bete noire for all WTs – the TTE away.

When he finally came back at square one i.e. Kgp again, all his energy and enthu had sapped. He had a couple of idlis at the station, and after giving a host of abuses to his friend who had suggested the morning train, he reclined on a bench. He couldn’t go back to the hostel fearing the ignominy and the spate of sardonic comments and concomitantly decided to reach Ranchi, come hell or high water.

At 8.30 a.m. sharp, two trains arrive simultaneously at Kgp, the ISPAT Exp which was the ground zero of our hero and the STEEL Exp which goes exactly in the opposite direction. Our hero misunderstood the announcement (which I myself have never been able to decipher all my life) and started scurrying to Platform 5. In the process he kept thinking of why the others didn’t budge when the platform of arrival has been suddenly changed. But thinking them as yokels and seeing 1-2 persons also jumping across the rails towards platform 5, he assured himself. When the train arrived, he saw TATA-HOWRAH Exp written on it as against the usual HOWRAH-SAMBALPUR Exp. Perhaps in the 4 months hiatus, the route has been truncated up to Tata only, he surmised. Though why it’s TATA HOWRAH and not HOWRAH TATA still baffled him. Still trusting his hearing of the announcement, he stepped inside only to find it choc-a-bloc with passengers.

As the train gathered speed, he managed to win some sq. feet of space to plant his feet. He endured the throes like a stoic and chuckled to himself at finally being en route to his destination. But the train didn’t seem to stop at any intermediate stations perplexing him. He again assured himself by the logic that may be in the 4 months time, the train had been made Super Fast. After 2 grueling hours, the train finally stopped and he peeked out of the window to find the name ‘SANTRAGACHI’ etched on a yellow stone. Now this name was familiar though he had not come here many times. Again he tried to assure himself that maybe Santragachi was en route to Jamshedpur but for him too, this was too much. He knew that his game was over but as a final nail in the coffin he furtively asked from a vendor where was this train going. He gave him a weird look and answered “HOWRAH”. (While some others smiled at this stupid question)

Our hero was dumbstruck. He saw a local train on the other side of the platform facing Kharagpur and following his knee jerk reaction jumped out of the train. This time he went straight to the driver and with expectant eyes asked “Dada! Kharagpur chaloge?” as if hiring a rickshaw. The answer of course was a flat Naveen Prabhakar NO. He turned backwards only to see the back of STEEL Exp throwing him good byes kiss.

So here he was marooned in the middle of a ho hum platform, famished, dozy and terribly flustered. To beef up his anguish, he saw his bete noire the TTE converging at him with nimble steps and glary eyes. Notwithstanding all his pleas and Overacting (his gave it all he had learnt in the inter hall drams this year), his wallet became lighter by 200 bucks as he was left for the next jam-packed local train to devour whatever morsels of patience and endurance was left in him. As he stepped on the Kharagpur platform at 2.00 p.m. suffering miseries galore, he summoned up all his courage to give it a final try as he saw another local for Jamshedpur parked on the flip end of the longest platform in the world.

He ran for all his might for the entire 1 km with a heavy bag on his shoulders and finally managed to capture a seat. But then pangs of hunger impelled him to go looking for food on the listless platform only to find all the stalls shut for lunch. Now this was enough, too much. He collected his valise and with drooping shoulders cantered straight towards the exit.

On his way back, he rang up his wingie to intimate him that he was coming back, sending him into fits of laughter. Everyone stood with bated breath and pounced on him as soon as he reached the hall, shredding his dignity to pieces with the humor sword. He too could do nothing but smile at his repute’s death procession.

So we finally come to the end of this ordeal cum odyssey. I hope you enjoyed reading it. The only thing I want to tell you is that if you consider this guy to be a freak, an oddball...better watch out. May be next time its your life which is at cross-RAILS.

un-SENSOR-ed

(A tribute to my 3^rd year INSTRU pals)

The alarm kept honking as I lingered out of my bed on a Thursday afternoon, drawling sundry curses to the imminent bugbear of mine – the Instru lab. Quickly completing my morning, rather afternoon ablutions, I skimmed through the day’s newspaper to be dumbfounded at the news of an impending Terrorist attack on our tranquil blackboard jungle – the IIT. However trusting the ratiocination of the Terrorist groups, my fear was dispelled.

I quickly transcribed BABU’s (my dear lanky friend’s nick name) discussion with a little paraphrasing and after putting on my rumpled shirt, gravitated towards the mess. I won’t expatiate more about the mess as it has already been comprehensively discussed by one of my instru cohorts (with an Einstein hairstyle and DASHing looks) in his blog. As we reached the lab, Prof Dutta was already half way through the roll call. My labby (a dyed-in-the-wool Maulana AZAD fan), Babu and myself no one had read the manual. Still we kicked off the experiment on a wing and a prayer.

As both of them scrupulously fabricated the circuit, I craned my neck to fathom the mood of the Lab. Prof Dutta had his proverbial smile etched on his lips as he conferred with Mitro regarding attendance. Now this guy is a perennial late comer, a treat freak and of course as he always vaunts bout himself, the highest AIR amongst us (“Tor AIR kii, ball ball”). The ephemeral silence in his group was soon crushed to smithereens as an altercation broke out between Mitro and the happy and GAY Brazilian star Kaka. The gauche Gamauch, their third lab partner, was gawking at the pandemonium helplessly when suddenly we heard some commotion, a welter of sounds which portended a menace approaching the lab (if I got my Doppler effect right).

Yes, it had happened. Every soul stood rooted to the ground in stunned silence as we saw 3 semi-veiled terrorists silhouetted against the open door. “Hands-up!!!” was the behest of one of them which was promptly reciprocated by every one of us – be it the G.Sec, Deptt of Electrical Engg primped in his trademark masculine pink shirt. Or be it the perpetual crammer Tau still looking askance at the unfinished manual.

The Instru 3^rd year studs had been taken hostages by the militants who I conjectured to be from Lashkar-e-Taiba (the only name I know). I must admit I was game for it provided they promised not to bereave our families. At least the Lab was out of question. And one person whom I would bet all my money for appreciating my thought was the notorious Neal n Nikki pair who managed to wear the typical ‘Hum-Beta-Peace-Marega’ look even in such a calamity.

However amidst all this mayhem the terrorists looked completely unperturbed. They asked a butterball to sing a song for them which turned into a bane for the terrorists and a boon for the trio of 3 most coveted cards in a deck – Satti, Atthi and of course the Ace. They mustering up every bit of chivalry left in them allowed the trio to leave (this by fluke saved them from a few crafty karate strokes from an ACE black belter and thus saving them from a few HALLU cinations).

They called a Maratha looking dude (name inspired from a Gutkha major) from the herd and asked him his name. “Suraag M Sacche...errr M Sacche Kharaab…no no Kacche Suraag M...Srry”, “SHUT UP” they cried. Well long appellations have some inherent disadvantages; sometimes they can really befuddle you. Suddenly they were accosted by my labby (the same AZAD fan I told you bout). The kind of Poltu he is, he apparently was trying to make some kind of a pact with them, we reckoned. 10 minutes after he had taken one of the terrorists to discuss the agenda, we heard a shot fired. SHOCK everywhere...is he dead?? A chill ran down everyone’s spine. “Perhaps they misunderstood him…he spoke in English you see”, Babu said. “Or might be he punched his tummy a trifle too hard…you know the way he always does do become friendly with professors and lab in charges”, I muttered.

The gauche Gamauch was slowly segueing into his Drams mode. Seeing his ultra grief stricken countenance, even the terrorists couldn’t stop chuckling to themselves. “What a schmuck!!! Was he your relative or what?” they asked. “Hum hu...mm nnahhi jaa jaante”, the petrified Gamauch jabbered. In the meantime, Babu became lachrymose watching the Rakhis on his wrist…you know they are the eSN’s of my life – he said. As I went on to console him, I saw Pollock dada take out a TFS Rs. 50 receipt and solicit the terrorists into buying it. “Is baar hum tumhare liye Mission Kashmir lagayega…TFS mein evening show dekh lena tumko hum allow kar dega”, he said. Asking him to shut up for Allah’s sake, they turned their attention towards Neal Bose who was busy breaking the instruments of the lab – his age old fantasy. The time was past 4:30 and we all know that no one can impel him to stay in the lab past 4:30. He said his one last eternal words ‘I SON WILL KILL PEACE’ (Guppi Singh’s translation of his original Hindi dialogue) as he leaped across the stools towards one of the terrorists and with all his might took a multimeter and incised its pointed probes into his belly. But alas!!! As a sad anticlimax, the probes of the multimeter were broken. He himself had intentionally broken it in the last lab and now he would have to pay through his nose for his fantasy – the fantasy of breaking instruments in instrumentation lab. His partner Nikki Bond started fisticuffs with the terrorists to save his partner and best friend Neal but sadly both of them were shot outside the lab grappling with them till their last breath.

Their holy blood crept in slowly in the lab with a typical SDG viscocity (slooww flow) which made the DASHing Einstein (still in his last night hangover) puke. Kaka became queasy at the sight of both the blood and the puke and had a great yearning to go to his favorite hangout place ‘CHEDIS’ to smoke the ‘Peace’ pipe. Flabbergasted by all the heroics and bloodshed, our treat freak Mitro asked the terrorists for a Treat to celebrate their successful shooting.

Another shot!!! This time in front of us. Blood spouted out in copious quantity as the entire lab became inundated with human plasma. Gamauch was trembling with trepidation as Babu regurgitated for the first time. But we suddenly saw some movement in the reposing cadaver. Our branch Kholu stood up to everyone’s astonishment smiling as I saw the blood drenched faces of our Neal, Nikki and AZAD fanatic pop up from behind. Everyone looked at each other and at the same moment with a perfect NEHRU HALL synchro, all of us jumped up in jubilation and the ambience became rife with cries of “HAPPY HOLI….HAPPY HOLI” as our seniors masquerading as terrorists joined the party with their Gun shaped Pichkaris.

It was one of the most colorful and adventurous holi of our life. For the first time we realized that we with our DASHing yet intellectual dude, happy and Gay KAKA, gauche but hyper cute Gamauch, poltu but a marvel-at-heart AZADian, the cantankerous yet affable Mitro and everyone else make up the most frolicsome group ever. We just have to keep smiling and helping each other out coz as is said in Ice Age – that’s the way we live in a herd.

Love you all. We are licensed to chill. Let’s do it!!!

- Rohit Prateek

(A 3rd year proud Instru)