I Hate Love Stories

Among all the comedies that life has to offer, the matters of the heart reign supreme. If you are thinking about clogged arteries, then you either have a twisted sense of humor or you desperately need to hit the gym. Anyway, that being the case, I should have written extensively about the many arrows that had ripped my heart apart. But, I have not done that because I am still not able to laugh it off. But to be able to deal with something, you have to be able laugh at it. So here I am, dealing with it.

Something pierced the back of my neck and I turned around to find her apologizing as a thorn of the red rose she was carrying scratched my neck. I think she was trying to explain that she was about to place it in a vase on the shelf above, but I did not quite understand as I did not quite listen. I just stood there, realizing that the proverbial arrow, had found its mark!

Now, I have never believed in love at first sight, well, until that day, of course. She was breathtakingly beautiful and she took out a flowery kerchief to smother my neck. I did not say, it was fine, or I did not tell her, that the smothering was not necessary. Well, I just forgot to say that, and just about everything else in the world.

She then went back to her seat and started working and I was still there, lost. I came out of the trance when my boss walked in.

Boss to her: So have you met our new hire and hey, she is our receptionist.

She: Oh! I did, but did not realize he is the one.

Me: Well, I am.

Awkward silence! How is that for an ice breaker, jeez!

The days continued, with me learning about the work there, her work more than mine actually and I talked to her at every opportunity I had and I read about stuff like pop corn and cakes and flowers, because that is all she cared about. But can you blame me, with a face like that she could have talked about murder and crime I would have murdered someone just to keep up with her at those conversations. She talked about her girlfriends or rather friends who were girls, all the time and I also discovered she did not have a boy friend and that was it, there was no stopping me anymore. The game was ON!

She said she loooooved love stories and that was hard on me. I hate love stories, as a general rule, but did I have a choice, I went along reading whatever love story she was reading.

She was simple minded and I stopped having a mind of my own. She was a republican and George Bush became my favorite politician of all time. Her father was a veteran and I hit the gym although with little success. She loved to experiment and cook and I became her guinea pig. She was religious and I became her laughing Buddha. She said she loved my sense of humor and I knew that it won’t be long before she said, she loved me!

I knew I had to make the first move though. I had lost too many opportunities in the past by shying away from the first move. Not this time, not after spending 2 months of my life thinking about her, not after getting so close. So I did make the move. I went to her desk to ask her out on a date. She was looking at the phone intensely.

Me: uuuuh, hey! So, uh..

She got off her chair, came running towards me and hugged me. YES YES, I had won this time. Finally! So that is how it is. When you are really in love, in true love, the other person knows, you don’t have to tell her!

I was about to return her hug when I heard her in a broker voice, crying away…”Amanda….Amanda, my girlfriend broke up with me……..She….left!”

I just stood there, without returning the hug, so much for true love, so much for the other person knowing and so much for the term, girlfriend, at least now, I can get back to hating love stories.

Giving Thanks!

It was a sad day and I somehow came to terms that I had to take the merry go around ride once again. More than getting on the ride, the fringe benefits that are offered with it drive me crazy. Staring at each side, waiting for others, moving inch by almost another miraculous inch make me wonder if this is being captured on the Nat Geo for ducks. Finally we ended up going all the way up and then coming down to park the car outside the mall.

After coming to the mall, I never return home empty handed, because I hate to do it all over again. So I pick my stuff and get out of there immediately. Sadly, that was not to happen on that fateful day. They wanted me to try it on and parade. I would have laughed at the idea and had my fun but that day, they were buying.

I went into the trial room and as quickly as one could possibly change, I changed. Actually, I was mid way, meaning I had taken stuff off and was about to put on stuff, when I heard, “not all trial rooms are taken, you know.”

I turned around and saw this woman staring at me dead in the eye. I was surprised that I could see almost half of her and shocked to realize that she was not too tall either. I replied, “so why don’t you use the empty ones?” and mumbled to myself, and why the hell are these rooms so short?!

“Well, my kids like to use the ones meant for kids!” she said and I came out and convinced my friends, that shirt was the best I ever had. Thankfully, or at least I thought so at the time, we got the shirt and moved to the next item – shoes. They found a nice pair and told me to try it on. I saw this trial-room-woman standing right across the room and that drove me all the more to get out of there as soon as I could.

So I put one shoe on and walked around. My friends interrupted my circus feat of walking around with a shoe on foot and a sandal on the other. But I told them with all the smugness I could muster, if one fits, the other ones fits too. Of course, I was right and we came home, sweet home. Thank god, I did not have to deal with vertigo as we parked outside the mall.

After I come back from a mall, I don’t like to think about the nightmare for as long as I can avoid. So I did avoid thinking about it and did not use the stuff I bought until 2 months later. I had to catch a very long flight and with that cramped leg rooms, I realized it was time to take out the new shoes. I got the two shoes out of the box carefully and put them on, they looked good; well my friends had a good taste. Anyway, began making last minute checks like walking inside and outside one room after another to see if I got everything I needed for the trip.

Of all the problems I have, air sickness is not one. So I did not quite get it, when I was feeling extremely uncomfortable. I felt like the room was spinning, that I was losing my balance and that I was breaking down. I did collapse finally, and I looked at my feet and realized that I was wearing two left shoes!

PS: Special thanks to DSGD for the great shoes and sorry about never finding the receipt!

My Experiment With Lies

It was one hell of a field day for the butterflies as they were flying around merrily without any care in the world about the nausea they were causing me. They were bringing me down to my knees, making me hold back tears and making me tighten every muscle in the body for I was trying to put up a poker face. It was finally my turn and the professor was contemplating what experiment she had to give me for the final lab/practical exam of the semester.

She was taking her time as she seemed to be having fun looking at my frozen and yet sweaty face. Those stupid butterflies in my stomach compelled me to talk to myself, have all the fun you want now madam, for I am going to throw up all over, thanks to this nausea! Probably she heard what I was thinking because she immediately gave me my paper with the name of the experiment I was expected to do. I tried hard to read what was on the paper but she perhaps punched me on the face while giving me the paper for all I could see were stars and spots.

I sat down at the assigned spot and realized what experiment I would be doing. Got it! It was my lucky day again. I had no clue as to how to do that experiment, but I had the theory, graphs, equations, and the final result of the experiment memorized like always. I glanced at my friends - Hilarious how you guys suddenly put up the human version of ratatouille by running around, fighting against time, finding this and that to do whatever the hell that is!

I was sitting there looking at the antenna for which I had to find the radiation pattern. I switched the power on and the stupid antenna kept beeping intermittently and I pretended to be taking down the readings in sync. with the beeps. Those beeps marked a subtle change in angle for which you had to record the radiation and that way you could, blah, blah, blah. I had already written the damn result down to the third decimal and plotted the whole radiation graph from memory. Talk about accuracy, huh? Because I got it all figured it was time to relax and I started playing with my pen. For those of you sad people who do not know the bliss of being a James Bond with the pen instead of a gun, it is the art of rotating the pen between your fingers in a mind boggling way that gives you a high, higher than anything in the world with every rotation the pen makes.

The high was suddenly interrupted as I had to stoop low to find the pen. Once in a while it slips through, once in thousand times that is, just to keep the record straight. So I found it after about 2 minutes of navigating in the snake park (those stupid power cords under the table) and when I was up the whole room was along with the professor was looking at me. And I realized I missed the act I was doing for about 10 to 15 of those beeps. But I did not care. Stare at me all you want, but I am not going to start this thing all over because I missed the beeps. I got it anyway. Muhuahahahhaha! Finally it was time to give the paper to the professor.

She: “So how did you get the radiation pattern of a dipole antenna when you were sitting with the yagi-uda antenna?”

Me: “No Ma’am, the name of the experiment I got is dipole.”

She: “I know that. But the name of the apparatus you worked on is Yagi-Uda. So how the hell did you manage to observer the radiation pattern of the dipole or is this the radiation pattern of your rotating pen and not the antenna?”

Me: butterflies, stars, spots and bliss – darkness!

My Brilliant Brain

“My Brilliant Brain” is the name of a show on Nat Geo. It talks about the abilities of the human brain taking instances of real people. Susan Polgar a four time world women chess championship winner was once on the show. I watched the show in awe and was all the more inspired by her to pursue the only game I love – Chess. I wanted to be a grand master like her. I wanted to be like the chess god Kasparov. Like him I wanted to defeat computers that could calculate a million moves in a second. I wanted to be the World Chess Champion………

My phone’s stupid and loud ring tone interrupted my thoughts.

Me: Hi Mom, how are you!

Mom: Hi! I am good, how are you?

Me: I am good too.

Mom: So how are you studying these days?

Me: Great, of course!

Mom: Don’t say ‘Of course”. Remember your younger days?

Me: What are you talking about? I have always been very smart.

Mom: Let me remind you something then. When you were 8 and your brother was 11 I asked you what I would do as your brother would be going to college in 6 years. And this is what you said: “Mom, after 6 years brother will go to college because he will be 17. But I will be 8 and nine years after that I’ll be 17 and I’ll have to go to college. So you don’t have to worry for the next 15 years!”

Me: Oh come on Mom, I was only 8.

The rest of the conversation goes on but I have little interest for I am sad that at 4 Susan Polgar started playing chess and at 8 I was a freaking retard! The phone conversation is over and I am planning on how to make up for the years I had lost. I am planning on reading up a couple of books on chess theories and thinking that is going to be enough for a man of my intelligence. The reader should not think I am giving myself undue credit here. Well, I am pursuing a Master’s in engineering and only intelligent people do that, right? Anyway, I am contemplating on what opening theories I have to read about. The Ruy Lopez, Chigorin variation has always been fascinating to me but of late I have found an admiration for the Sicilian Dragon especially after realizing the power of the fianchettoed bishop on g7 and the h7……….

This time my friend from school pings me.

Raj: hi buddy!

Me: hi raj, hw r u!

Raj: nt 2 bad. Neeway, sterday, I was talking to my frnds abt u and we were all laughing like crazy for 5 mins non- stop.

Me: Well, thnku, I always knew I would make a good standup comedian!

Raj: hold it dude. We were not laughing because u were funny but cause u were stupid! :)

Me: what do you mean :x

Raj: remember in our 10th grade we were all solving a problem in the class and when we all got stuck our teacher told us to divide and multiply the term with x? she asked us the answer after that and u were like, “ I have the same term again. x got cancelled!”

Me: Oh! Well, I got to go man. Catch up later. Bye!

Oh dear God! So, this time my age is not going to bail me out. If anything it is only going to make things worse.

But it has been said by famous people that most people don’t know how close they are to success when they quit. So I am going to work hard and dream big things. But before all that I am going to have to do some smart work too. I am going to switch off my mobile and turn off my computer. And now, dream on………….

An Uphill Climb

The words uphill and upstream come into that category of words that I instantly dread upon hearing. As a kid I did not know what they meant and was in constant amusement thinking of what they could possibly mean. This amusement was only short lived as kids grow up fast and I had to learn what these words meant in the worst possible way - Mathematical .

The reader must know that as a kid I was confounded by Math so much that despite my pathetic artistic abilities, there was a time I contemplated a career in impressionistic and modern painting. I thought I could somehow manipulate people into believing weird, creepy shapes to be beautiful works of nature. Looking at modern art today, I think I might have done an exceptional job at it. Anyway, eventually I got around Math.

In case you did not get the cue, I learned what these words meant from the famous upstream and downstream problems in elementary algebra where you have to play around with speed, distance and time and as if it is too easy, also take into account the stupid running water.

7 or so years after my first encounter with the upstream problems……..

It was a very rainy day which was surprising considering that I am talking about Chennai. Sometimes, people get inspired by the rain especially when it is a rare phenomenon. So, I decided to enjoy the rain and my idea of enjoyment was to drive the highways of the city on my bike (motor bike). I did not have a license to drive and was still learning back then but come on, to hell with rules when it rains in a city where you sweat it out all through the year.

I was driving pretty well until my childhood memories came sprinting to me bettering Bolt’s records. I had to drive over a flyover that had an ugly uphill slope. I tried to keep my cool and drive normally imagining it to be a flat road. Well I did manage to imagine but my stupid piece-of-metal-bike lacked the imagination. And of course, the ever flowing traffic made it more difficult. The problems with my driving were more psychological than technical. On my way up, I managed to go down! For some reason after every two inches that the traffic moved up, I moved an inch backward first and two forward next managing a net gain of 1 inch.

I have heard of people speak about their tiers losing traction on slippery slopes. But I was better. My bike was fine, it was my legs that did not find the traction. The end result was that I was colliding with the vehicle behind me and the vehicle ahead of me every time the traffic moved. So my movement was essentially the result of spatial confinement rather my control over the bike. The other motorists looked at me in disbelief.

One college kid was so kind in suggesting me to try a career in gymnastics. One guy told me his 5 year old daughter could control her rocking horse better than I controlled my bike. Another middle-aged man reminded me that the city had public transport system designed especially for people like me. Two college girls were laughing their heads off and to top it all a baby found it so amusing that she was clapping as if it were a circus.

They were all maneuvering their way as far away from me as possible. Inch after painful, colliding, abuse-taking, inch I found my way to the flat road and my uphill climb was over.

I felt like Tim Robbins in “The Shaw shank Redemption” after getting to the top and feeling the rain against my face. I felt like Mel Gibson in “Brave heart” and had to try hard not to scream “FREEDOM!!” I felt like……

”Take out your license Mr. I have been watching the way you are driving and I am assuming you don’t have one.”

That is all it took for me come swooping back to the ground.

I paid whatever he asked for and drove back home giving a serious thought to a career in gymnastics.

How smart am I?

I have talked enough about being dumb and you need to realize that we all have our share of moments. You can be smart for an instant and be a fool the very next! Let us take a leaf out of cricket here. “Form is temporary, class is permanent” is a famous adage in the cricket world. In general, I believe smartness is temporary, intelligence is permanent. I am telling you all this to make a point that dumbness is not my predominant personality trait. Not convinced? I am not surprised because that is what I have been talking about for quite some time on this space. But read on….

Buses in Chennai, represent a very sad state of affairs. At Kennedy Space Center, I went inside a rocket that was about to be launched. Although I would love to leave that sentence there without any further explanation, I have to admit that it was only a prototype for simulation purposes and not a real one. The simulation began and got over with no effect on me whatsoever, unlike the thrilled and grinning faces around me thanks to my experience with buses in Chennai. The rocket just rocked, twirled, groaned and vibrated. Not what I had in mind for I had seen all that and even more back in Chennai.

Whenever, the driver shifted gears in the bus I almost threw up, not what I ate but my heart itself. He would try to change the gear but the damn rod would not budge. He would use his fist, forearm and even his elbow to move it and all this while racing the green light along with people driving as if they were all escaped convicts with cops right behind them. That is not even the worst part. That credit goes to the lovely passengers I travelled with. It was always so crowded that at any point you either had at least four people sharing all the parts of your body or air gushing against your face while your feet were suspended and your entire body supported by your hands which clung on to a flimsy bar of rusted iron in one of the windows. Since I had no interest in finding out the tensile strength of the rusted iron rod at the cost of my life I always chose the former.

Anyway, I was travelling with my friends to a book store to return some books in one of these buses. We had had a rough day at college and were on our way to a very far off book store. All the seats were taken as usual and the fact that we were carrying books made us even more vulnerable. We desperately wanted to sit and take the burden off our shoulders. So we just went ahead asked the ladies in the last row to get up and make way for us as we were carrying a lot of books. We damn well knew it was reserved for ladies but hey, try following rules when you cannot feel your shoulders anymore. Of course, the ladies said no and that it was reserved and blah, blah, blah… I told them to have some moral values and follow the rules in spirit and not in letter.

Enter Conductor: “Stop bothering the ladies you rowdies”

Me: What is it with you moron. It is not as if you are a director and this is a casting couch reserved for beautiful girls, is it? Wake up! You are just a conductor. Of course, this went on in my mind.

My Friend: Get Lost!!

People usually don’t talk to conductors like that. And he immediately stopped the bus and got some cops who usually come in so late in the movies and so promptly when you don’t need them in real life. The cops looked at us seriously, and this is where I played smart! They were asking us where we came from and things like that. I tried answering them but I kept my voice so feeble that they did not think for one second that I might do some eve teasing of which we were all being so unjustly accused by our conductor. I was on song and played a little trick and opened my bag and told them with all the innocence in the whole world that I was on my way to the book store.

The cops refused to believe what the conductor was saying looking at our innocent faces and the books and just left. The conductor did not speak any more and nobody in the bus made eye contact with us anymore. Of course we did not get space to sit but we had plenty to stand because nobody dared to come near us. With so many people in the bus they did not hear our conversation with the ladies, or the conductor or even the cops. So they just knew that cops had come and interrogated us and left. Most of them probably assumed we got away with some eve teasing because one of us was a gangster.

Whatever, I did not care anymore for we had plenty of not just space in the crowded bus but respect out of fear too!

Now, wasn’t that extremely smart?

Right Place, Wrong Time

Nicholas Cage’s interview appeared in the Reader’s Digest when I was a kid and that was when I first came across the expression “It is all about being in the right place at the right time”. That was his answer to the question what his secret to success was. I instantly fell in love with the expressions as it made sense. Ever since I read that interview I have had dreams about people asking me what my secret to success was and me using that expression with all my charm. (Don’t start laughing your head off about the non- existent charm. It was a dream, okay?)

Four years later…….

It was that time when the vacation was coming to an end. I was a 16 year old kid and hated every second of the day as I had to leave my aunt’s place to go back home for school. I was looking at the train ticket that my Dad sent me through mail with an empty look in the eye. I started packing and knowing that in just a day’s time I will be going back to reality. It was time for me to start yet another year of unfathomable course work, astronomical home works, painfully slow commutes to the school and text books making you want to hunt down the author and kill.

I carefully placed my luggage under my seat and sat with all the sadness upon my face. An old man interrupted my gloomy thoughts and told me to get off the seat rudely. He claimed it was his seat and that he had it reserved. I was already extremely irritated and this old man was talking to me as if I had stolen his house. He was so loud that the little girl sitting next to me and enjoying her samosas almost fell off her seat. Well, if you could shout using all your intestines at 60, then I’ll show you what decibel levels younger material can generate.

“I respect people based on merit and not age. So don’t expect me to let go off the seat just because you are older. I reserved this seat two months in advance, just leave me alone!”

The little girl probably did not see this coming from the petite 16 year old kid that I was, because she started choking on one of her somosas. I had beat the old man at his own game, 1-0.

The old man took out his ticket and showed me the seat number. It was 15A, the seat on which I was sitting. I was utterly shocked. He was waiting for me to show him mine. I was terrified and started having all the doubts just like I do when it is time for some class test results. I slowly took out the ticket and even before I could look at it the old man grabbed it out of my hand victoriously. His face turned pale and I thought he was having a stroke. I looked at the seat number and it said 15A. The scores were even this time, but overall I ruled 1.5- 0.5.

Enter ticket collector, “What is going on here. Let me look at your tickets. The train will leave in about 5 minutes and you guys are still fighting about the seats?”

Old man: “The whole system is corrupt. How could you give away two tickets for one seat? I’ll take this to the press.”

I was sitting there calmly because I knew that if you pissed the ticket collector off you hit a dead end. It was very simple; there had been a miscalculation about the seats. So they gave off two. But only one had to get the seat. This means that the ticket collector will chose one of the two to stay. Since I was calm and not pissing him off I would stay. Game over: 2.5 – 0.5

Ticket collector: “Look here boy. Today is 11th and your ticket is for the 12th.”

I don’t know if it has ever happened to you but sometimes your brain just shuts off and you start doing things without thinking. It happened to me at that instant. I just took out my luggage and got off the train without thinking anything except this: Old man: ticket on the train, me: getting off the train. So the game is indeed over!

My Aunt started scolding me for being so dumb and she asked me how I managed to be so dumb. It was my moment. Considering my dumbness, I can never live my dream and use that expression, so I might as well try to improvise the expression and use it in this nightmare.

“Well, it is all about being in the right place at the wrong time.”

Hot N Cold

In case you are expecting to read something about the song “Hot N Cold” here is the link: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hot_N_Cold. In other words, this blog is not about how Katy Perry chose her costumes or why she chose to ride a bicycle when chasing the guy in the song. This post is about, well, read on.

Relativity applies to physics, not ethics” – Albert Einstein. Not that I consider myself wise enough to debate Einstein’s view, but I really don’t think ethics is not relative. In general everything is relative, in my opinion. Now, this is not some theory I made up sitting at home with nothing to do but ponder upon life. I am too sleepy for that kind of thought process. It was something I learned the hardest possible way, through physical agony, psychological defeat and wet eyes.

It was a sunny day and the plan was to go around the city with my cousins on motor bikes. They had some things to do across the city and I had nothing to do at home.

Just before we started,

Cousin 1: “It is too hot and humid today.”

Me:”Hey, common. Don’t be that tender. I have lived in far humid places and never felt a thing.”

Cousin 2: “Yeah, try not to change your opinion by this evening.”

Me: Silly boy! See for yourself

Two hours later:

I was soaked from head to toe in sweat. My cousin was not to miss the chance and he retorted, “Everything is relative. You may be used to humid places but it only means that it takes a little longer for you to feel tired under the sun.”

It was time for lunch and we decided to eat at a place that was pretty much nondescript. All of us ordered fried rice. Just when the waiter was about to leave, we all shouted after him, extra spicy. We were all pretty sure we could handle spices and that this was not relative but absolute. My cousin told me that every rule had an exception and that everything was not relative. We all could eat up practically anything no matter how spicy it was. We were all men, you see.

We started eating the fried rice and soon after the third spoonful of rice I ordered the good old coca cola. It was unbearably spicy but I did not show it on my face (Ever heard of ego?). I had to find a solution and hence I ordered coke. A while later we all had finished half a bottle of coca cola each. On the other hand only a third of the rice was gone. We did not talk any more. We were staring at each other and I could see their ears go red. Yet no one spoke a word. We did not admit it was damn HOT!

Napkins were fast moving commodities on our table too. My eyes and nose leaked water with the heat. My throat was confused with the hot rice and cold coke. A gulp of the damn spicy rice and 50 ml of ice cold coca cola was making my throat go numb. My stomach made noises as it was screaming at me stop.

One of my cousins was almost crying and the other one was already half into his second bottle of coca cola. The waiter had to restock the napkins and water frequently. We could not keep our mouths closed. To dissipate the heat we all had our mouths open. We were all rolling our eyes frequently and looked as if we were about to die. Yet we did not complain about how spicy or hot it was.

Afraid he might have to deal with dead meat in a vegetarian restaurant, the owner came to our table and placed a bowl full of sugar on our table. We forgot the whole world around us and fought like serial killers for the sugar and devoured it. Once our mouths, throats and stomachs got what they needed we looked at each other and our tears gave away all the words that we had not spoken. We went mad with relief from the sugar and we started laughing looking at each other like nobody existed around us. We fell off the chairs and literally laughed rolling on the floor, partly out of relief and partly at our stupidity.

After a while we realized that everybody in the room was looking at us and we just ate up some more sugar, paid the bill and fled the place. On our way back, we all decided that we finally found a rule that had no exception. “Everything is relative.”

I know I might be wrong in saying that everything is relative, but after what happened my brain refuses to change that opinion. With all due respect, Mr. Einstein, you are so wrong!

Two Minutes

Managing course work, working part time, living in makeshift homes, skipping breakfast and hanging out with friends are the things one would think of when referring to student life. Although these are the primary ingredients of a student’s life, it is not just limited to these. For instance, staying awake until 3:00 a.m. or 4:00 a.m. every night (or should I say morning?) is one other aspect that is so obvious and yet misses the list.

It was one such night and I was trying to study something I would rather not get into the details of (I don’t want to write a book, I am happy with just a blog). I was studying with two of my buddies and we were sweating it out for three straight hours. We had dinner that night before we started studying and yet found ourselves starving. Thinking about it now, it was probably an escape mechanism generated sub consciously as we were not able to understand a thing.

Whatever the reasons, we decided we had to eat and I rummaged through the refrigerator for food but in vain. Just three hours back we had devoured almost everything that was edible! Just when I thought my escape mechanism had failed miserably my friend found three eggs, to our delight and misery. I say delight because he found something to eat and misery because, well each of us were capable of eating at least thrice the amount of food we had found.

Something, they say is better than nothing and we began making omelets. My friend unable to stand the starvation went first and in haste he tried making an omelet with the burner at its highest and ended up making charcoal out of it. My other buddy went next and this time he had turned the burner down and yet managed to make charcoal. It was because he did not wait long enough for the pan to cool down. Anyway I went next and mysteriously instead of an omelet what I made was a rock solid tasteless piece of $#!@. It was so hard that we could not break it into three so we could eat. Anyway, the three eggs ended up in the trash and our faces were as burnt as the omelets with disgust and hunger.

I knew all along that I was bad at cooking but I could not believe I was so bad. People usually give up after failures but I was more determined than ever to cook something to eat. Or am I giving myself undue credit? Yeah, it was just that I was so hungry that I had to eat something or die! I chose the former. Fortune, it is said, favors the brave. I was brave enough to cook something and luckily I found good old noodles. On it was written what made noodles so famous: “Two Minutes”. And I thought I was the luckiest guy on earth.

I did not want my friends to spoil the simple noodles, so I told them I would cook and I did not want them in the kitchen. Reading cooking instructions was extremely silly, in my opinion. I mean how difficult can it be. Definitely not as much as what I was studying. So I just started cooking intuitively and I was done not with noodles, which I had intended to do in the first place but with noodle soup/paste/pulp which killed our appetite even before we tasted it because I had used at least five times more water than what was necessary. It turned to be a pulpy fluid which made you throw up if you looked at it for more than 10 seconds.

That is not the worst part of the story yet. I know you might find this hard to believe but the whole procedure took me 30 minutes. I was considering suing the company for falsely stating that all it took was two minutes but my friend told me it had the general public in mind when it said that and not retards who did not know how to read the instructions.

I did not go back to study that night and I went to bed because I knew what my friends would have me read first. So there is one more thing about student life that does not make it to the list: “bad cooking”. But people miss it intentionally as it is kind of embarrassing. Although people miss it, that is the first thing that comes to my mind when talking about student life. Unforgettable! I must say.

A Tragedy of Errors Part 2

Learning from mistakes is the hallmark of a successful man. I cannot call myself successful yet but I have the drive to be one some day. After my extraordinarily bad interview at the library I got another interview call and this time as you might have guessed I became the personification of thoroughness.

This interview was for an engineering job that required some expertise in Engineering drawing. And if you think I am good at drawing you cannot be more wrong. Come on! If I was that good at drawing I would have become a Doctor and be happy to draw the human brain. Well, I attempted to draw the human brain in my tenth grade and I could see the brains of my Science teacher through her dilated pupils when she looked at what I drew.

Whatever, I was happy that I got the call and this time I was at the building twenty minutes early. I was no more the cool and composed guy. This time I was Mr. Impeccable.

Me: I have an appointment for an interview. This time I did not dare to tell the receptionist the name of my interviewer. Like I said I learn from my mistakes.

Two minutes later I was sitting with this guy who wore a polo shirt and jeans making us look like the MAC and PC guys facing each other. So much for my excessive care in dressing formally!

Interviewer: Do you play any games?

Me: Calculating the implicit meaning of the question. Yes, so this guy wants to know about how I do in a team. All my life chess is the only thing I played. But that is not team work. So let me say football. But what if he asks me something about the game. I’ll be clueless and he’ll call my bluff. Alright he does not seem like a cricket guy so that is it. Of Course, I play cricket all the time.

Interviewer: Wow! Do you know Pradeep?

Me: Check! I need to buy some time here. Sorry?

Interviewer: Pradeep kumar.

Me: I think so, he is this new guy in the Indian cricket team, isn’t he?

Interviewer: OH MY GOD! He is the engineer I hired last month. I did not know he plays international cricket. He told me he plays cricket with friends in the University on the weekends and that is why I asked you.

Me: Checkmate! Oh! That was very modest of him.

Interviewer: I can’t believe this. Would you like to meet him?

Me: Presenting, cover up of the millennium! Actually, Pradeep is a very common name back in India. So they may be different guys.

Interviewer: Oh! That is what I thought. Because, this guy doesn’t look as agile as an international athlete. Anyway, I don’t want to waste your time anymore, (Here is how I interpreted this: I can see you are lying idiot. I don’t want to waste my time anymore on you.) just draw me this structure using AutoCAD on this system right here and you are ready to go.( Let me see how you can manage this time you moron. )

Me: Sure. (Except I have never looked at mouse like this before and you imagine I can draw a structure with this on the computer.)

Well the mouse was circular and it looked extremely weird. Twenty minutes later.....

Me: So……… I am done with the structure and I saved it on the desktop. Is that it? (Or are you going to call 911 and report fraud?)

Interviewer: That is it. I’ll take a look at it and give you a call sometime this Friday.

Well, at least 30 Fridays have passed by since this happened and I am yet to hear from him. It is not the job I am concerned about. If I could send the brains of my Science teacher reeling in my tenth grade, I did not want to imagine what my interviewer did to his building after looking at what I drew.

Sadly, last week, I read in the paper that the particular building I was interviewed at was being remodeled. I just like to believe that I am not responsible.

From Dog To Goat

On the third day after I landed, I spent the whole afternoon walking around the university and exploring every bit of it. I did not dare to explore the university earlier because I needed some time to recover not form jet lag but from you- know-what (read previous post).

I could have continued wandering around, but I was sure I was already looking like a dog tired and gasping for breath. I was so hungry that the moment I saw a place that looked like a fast food eatery I went right inside and up to the counter without caring to think what I was going to order.

Now, when you are in completely different country, the food is also going to be completely different. So it usually takes time for one to get used to it. But for vegetarians, there is no getting used to it, ever!

“How may I help you?” The lady asked me.

I was still looking around at the people who were eating hoping for clues. Everybody was eating some kind of sandwich or burger. So I went ahead and asked her “Can I get a vegetarian burger?”

The lady: Excuse me sir?

Me: A vegetarian burger, please.

The lady: I’m sorry but we don’t have anything like that.

Me: You don’t have a veggie burger?


The lady: You mean a burger with VEGETABLES?? (Nobody ever looked at me with such disgust all my life)

Now, I have heard of animal rights activists and animal lovers. But plant lovers, no. She was the only lady at the counter and everybody was eating some kind of meat. So, if she could happily give them all the meat they wanted I did not understand why she had so much trouble giving me a veggie burger. Was she so fond of plants and yet had no problem with frying chunks of meat? I had no idea and I was dying with hunger. Just when I thought I was going to starve to death, I saw a board behind her that said “Cheese burger + Fries”.

Me: (Not wasting a second) Well, I’ll go for cheese burger and fries.

The lady: Okay.

So she takes the bread and puts all kinds of vegetables on it. So I realized that she was not a plant lover or should I say a plant saver. It was just that I was asking for something that was not on their menu. Anyway, I was getting what I wanted. That was what I thought until I saw a big brown, circular and striped piece of food being taken off the grill. I asked her what that was, with all the innocence in the whole world hoping not to hear the one word that she said. “BEEF!”. To this day I do not know what part of the word cheese means meat.

Me: Oh! No, please. Thank you, but no. I’ll have the burger just like that.

She: (With that disgusting look on her face again) you want it with just the vegetables?

Me: (without worrying about the look on her face, the least bit) YES!

She said fine and she was about to get some fries when I just grabbed the burger and asked her how much I had to pay. She was reminding me the fries and I almost pleaded with her to just let me go with the burger, because I was afraid those fries would be some kind meat fries instead of the simple good old potato fries.

I finally sat down and took a bite of my burger. And now, I felt like a goat! Because all I could taste was leaves. Now, I realized what all her expressions meant. For the first time in my life I was sad about being a vegetarian. But I was so hungry that I did not mind being a goat. So I just went on…..Chheww, chhoww, chheww, chhoww……..