Pingu's Page: The Cut-Throat 'Biaaaatch'!

Pingu's Page: The Cut-Throat 'Biaaaatch'!: "Amber : It’s a game. You can either play for fun or play to win. If you want to win, you want cut-throat...."

When did I lose it? #Innocence

‘Swami ondu cheese sandwich kudi’, I asked the NC guy.

The NC guy shouts atop his voice, ‘ONJI CHEESE SANDWICH!’

I pay the bucks and turn my head to the left and a boy small enough to be in school starts to spread butter over the slices of bread. Occasionally he would wipe his nose, and simultaneously sniff the overhanging mucus. Drops of sweat would roll down his cheek. Invariantly some mass would get transferred from his nose to his hand and finally to my sandwich! Bonn appetit.. ;)

What do I do? I assume I suffer from short term amnesia and eat my sandwich.

‘Na tumne kuch kiya, na meine kuch dekha’! ;)

He was not alone, there were two more kids, much younger to him, one of whom served vada pav and the other was in charge for the cold beverages.

Then I began to wonder,1.45am in the night, when boys their age should be sound asleep, all set to go to their learning hubs the next day; These kids were catering to the needs of the ever hungry NITKians! As I learned out later, the sandwich kid was the Egg man’s son and the other two lil fellas were related to the Chef incharge for the Chinese dishes!

Some family tradition must say. We Indians are renowned to extend our *Khandani biznesh* Academic aspirations always loses the race with the family profession. Be it that of a priest, politician or as in our case a ‘do kaudi’ ka Chef!

Me: Tum log kya school jate ho?

Kiddos: Nahe, time ella. Raat ko 3 baje sota hai, school jana kaisa subah?

Daddy ko help karna hai kaam ko..

Me: Tumhe padhna nahe hai kya?

(seriously, If someone had asked me this question, my answered would be in negative!)

Kiddos: Admission ke liye Paisa nahe hota hai..

Me: Padhne ke liye Paisa nahe, bas iccha mangta hai..

Yeh lo Rs. 200, kise bhi school ka uniform khared lo aur jao baito class mein. Hindustan ki abaadi itne hai ki kisi ko farak bhi nahe padega!

Kiddos: aur Pakda gaya toh?

Me: Pakde gaye toh simple. Kisi doosre school ka uniform kharedlo!

Rancho is a pure work of fiction, unrealistic and inexistent in the ‘Real World’. Needless to say, this scene of ‘3Idiots’ didn’t actually take place… :-/

All I could do was tweet my thoughts and write a blog. There are people who are assigned to deal with child labour, and I am not among them! Then Why I am writing this post?

Well, it pains to see kids of your own brother’s age being drilled in ways as cruel as torture. (This torture is in no way related to the torture elder bros give their younger bros!)

An eccentric Biologist once performed an experiment. He made a lamb starve for 20 days, the only source of energy being its own body fats. On the 21^st day, the scientist provided it with a slice of Chicken breast, a food not a part of the traditional goat platter. To his utter disbelief the goat cherished every last bite of the meat. From then on, Chicken was a part of its daily diet.

Desperation drives beings crazy. I don’t see the kids unhappy or sad in what they are doing. On the contrary they are proud in aiding their Dads. The lamb and the kids don’t complain, they have adjusted to the new lease of life!

Although when the lamb looks at other goats of its age feed on lush green bushes, it does feel a bit weird, but then playing with bats and balls are for immature kids.

LIL KIDS…

Kids who are INNOCENT,

Something which the lamb irreversibly lost down the memory lane…

Side tracker: Some time back, there was this play at NITK, “The Death Trap”. Well, the objective of the play was to collect funds for issues pertaining to education of the girl child, school dropouts etc.

*Charity begins at home*

With the hope that this post reach the concerned people, with the ability to make a change, a hope not to be greeted with these children next time I go to the Night Canteen;

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I've seen it all!!

20 YEARS HENCE!

Some stories can wait…Not this one. This comes right from the heart. A heart of a patriotic Indian, a netizen of a vivid cricket crazy nation, a member of the frantic NITK crew who indulged in celebrations whole night long!

Disclaimer: No I am not Paul the Octopus, just a bloger with imagination running wild!

Dedicated to all the grey haired Indians who witnessed the 1983 WC and have been constntly bragging about their triumph to the gen-next.

The year 2030: (pardon me for the resemblence to himym!)

( By now I hope I am happily married with two kids, with my own beach view mini tower to reside in! )

Mr. Pingu to his kids,

“Guys today I’m gonna tell you a story, a story like no other, a story about a day when the country stood still and celebrated their ‘Indianess’. This goes back to 2011, the year India won the Cricket World Cup for the second time. When I saw cricket World Cup, I mean the extinct version of it, the 50 over cricket; not the T10 cricket you broods have today! A time when I was a 19 year old, with thick dense hair on my scalp. Can you believe this baldie staid dad of yours once used to be young, not so cool, but overly enthusiastic cricket fan?

We had just defeated our then neighbours Pakistan in the semis and faced Sri Lanka in the finals. (Pakistan, which now as you know is no longer a nation, a country dismantled by the hardliners and now governed by the United Nations)

Mrs. Pingu shouting from the kitchen, ”Dude, we’ve almost run out off oxygen supply for the month! Don’t just rest you bum on that couch, go to the neighbours and borrow some fresh air. And kids stop listening to his crazy stories, you have coaching classes to attend, his stories won’t get you admitted to IIT Surathkal! And anyways you can read his blog if you kids are so keen to emulate your dad.”

2^nd April 2011: Even she witnessed history that day!

The second innings had just started, me and few of my college pals just stepped into the auditorium of IIT Surathkal, formerly known as NITK and there was pin drop silence. Sachin Tendulkar had just lost his wicket. Simultaneity of the two events: me stepping in SJA and Sachin getting out embarked upon me. Did I just jinx him? India in a spot of bother, I thought. There was no doubt about which team held the whip at that stage.

The match was being screened on the big screen, so what if it was 2-D? The vuvuzelas, the drums, the dhols, the horns, the whistles more than made up for the lack of todays’  technology.

Your grandpa had to see the 1983 world cup on the radio! (That doesn’t sound good does it? :P)

tik tok tik…Gambhir-Kohli stick…

tik tok tik… Kohli misses the trick…

tit tok tik…Dhoni bab stepsUP…

tik tok tik…Another partnership develops…

tik tok tik..Gambhir-Dhoni sway the tide…

tik tok tik, Gambhir commits suicide…

tik tok tik…Dhoni ka chakka…

tik tok tik..Nacha har koi, budha ho ya bacha…

Tik tok tik..India won Macha..India won Macha!

And rest as they call, was history. That’s one bad thing about history, It keeps repeating itself… 1983, 2011, 2017 and now in 2030 as well!

But 2011 was special in ways more than once. There was this time when I knew how to celebrate: the right way! Oh yeah I scream, I danced, high fives all around!

Chants of Sachin Sachin, yuvi yuvi galvanised SJA. And there was this tri-colour face painting just for 5 bucks! It went somewhat like this:

 I know you kids must not even seen a five rupee coin, but that’s the way it was back then. Straight and simple unlike the card swiping technology of this age. For most part of the night celebrations remained clean and dry but there were these odd incidents at a local bar where few of our Bihari mates got into a scuffle. Us din toh saat kyun sau gunah maaf!

2017 things went a bit out of control, but if I start with that now, your mom is gonna make me sleep on the couch for the weekend!”

PS: Just 1 day has passed and I am already nostalgic... 

With the wish that we can relive these moments,

PAGE BREAK…

Congratulations blogdosts!

What’s the craziest thing you’ve done lately?

All those who have seen the movie, “The Girl Next Door” , flash back time guys!


It’s my favourite time of the year again! Another of my year on this planet comes to a closure, and I am still struggling to decipher the meaning of my existence in this universe.


I sit on the broken chair of my hostel room today, trying to recollect the events from my life that stood out from the rest so. If one fine day I ever taste some substantial amount of success, I would like to write an autobiography and fill it up with all the wackiest and crazy stuffs I have ever done. As the guy on the $100 bill would say, “Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing”. Right here right now I attempt to do both!
Blogdosts, this post today is an attempt to spill the beans. An insight into my world.

Before I proceed any further I have a few instructions for the readers:
I. This blogpost is strictly for all homo-sapiens except my mom! So mom if you
are reading this please forgive me…

II. All those gossipers out there, remember,
“what happens on my page, stays on my page!”

Time has come when he breaks the shackles and gets out of the skin or fur, whatever a penguin is supposed to have!




OK here it goes, five of the many crazy stories with me in the lead role!

5. Loot gayi Izzat in Pizza’t:

This tale goes back many many years, but every time I think about it, the guilt of embarrassment fills my mind. Well I was small, as small as I would love to play in one of these!

Place: Chennai.
Me, one of my Chess buddy had a visit to the nearby Pizza Hut. After a strenuous chess session this was a kick-ass way to regulate the stress hormones. They had one of this amazing ball pools and within no time me and my pal plunged into the ballroom.

A few minutes into our play, the store manager gave orders to vacate the pool. What the hell mate? We aren't done! (Don’t be a pervert, its not the way it sounds!)
Apparently we were 6 years too old to be have a swim. 10-15 customers in the house, the kids staring at us, clearly we were the elephant in the room! Wonder what they were thinking about us..
‘how many glasses of complan do these two kids drink each day.
Mommy I want my complan dose to be doubled with immediate effect! I wanna be as tall as those two 10 year olds in the pool!’

The guy with the tie, mumbled a few life lessons and all that we could do was hold our heads down and say.
“Seri Seri Sir, Seri Seri!”


4. ‘Well Done’ Inversion:

Time: 3.30pm. Place: Coaching centre, Chemistry class.

Yawn Yawn…
As much as I love Organic Chemistry; I have always maintained that a gloomy cloudy afternoon is not the best time to express your love!
The teacher with no clue of my mood continued with his daily chores.

‘Substitution Nuclear Reactions’, written in dark bold letters on the board. Yawn Yawn…(2 yawns in two minutes..boy I was on fire! Hope that’s not the case with the reader too :P )

The spatial arrangement of the product molecule gets inverted relative to the reactant, commonly known as the umbrella effect or ‘Walden Inversion’.

And then it struck me. There is this someone in a class of around 100 students who has worn his t-shirt inside out! Crystal clear, no printed design, the stiches and the threads clearly visible…
A one look by any student any the news would spread like a chain reaction. From your best friends, to the bullies and even the chicks!
My heart started playing double base, from dhak…dhak to dhak dhak…dhak dhak..the sound so loud that overpowered my lethargy.

Keep a low profile, everything will be just fine I consoled myself.
“Any answers, Shubham?” the sir asked. ‘No sir not today, I have bigger issues to worry about then your petty questions!

30 minutes for the break, and my reputation at stake. Boy I wish I could go underground for a few a while! The clock struck four. With no restrooms nearby, I had to make a decision. Either risk it out for another 90 minutes by staying in the class or to go out in the open flash your flabs to the pedestrians and restore the damage done. I chose the latter. Period.

What happened next is best if kept a secret.
All said and done, it was an inversion “Well-done”!




3. Hit me if you can!

Well this time I was sick. Sick of the monotonous daily routine. I needed the adrenaline rush. Something to make things more worth while!

Here it goes:

On a dark desert highway,
Cool wind in my hair,
Warm smell of colitis (yup 5th block was near by)
Rising through the air,
Up ahead in the distance,
I saw a shimmering light,
My head grew heavy and my sight grew dimmer,


Place: National Highway 17 Time: after dinner.

Three guys were on their way after a heavy dinner (food only ;)) at Sai Bhavani. One of them was still unsatisfied. Nothing seemed interesting to him at that time. Bored of tv series, no distant holidays to have a trip home and the frantic classes to make things worse.

There are these times when your friends stereotype you with a certain tag which they keep bragging about for eternity. Only way to stop the trend, cut loose, prove them wrong…


And then I did it...

To know what happened next and to check out the top two slots in my all time crazy deed list, tune in to your very own Pingu’s page

Till then adieus amigos!

To be continued…



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Saraswati Puja: why I couldn't make it this year

"My simple religion. There is no need for temples; no need for complicated philosophy. Our own brain, our own heart is our temple."
His holiness Dalai Lama 


Disclaimer

The purpose of the following post is not to disrespect the religious sentiments of any practicing person. Nor do I have any intentions to dampen the spirits of the organisers of the pooja. Keep going guys, you are really doing a great job!
But I have my issues with the goddess herself. A one on one thing between me and her and rest are just dragged on into our vendetta. 

Prelude: Every year few of our Nitkians organise Saraswati Pooja as a mark to pay respect to the Goddess of Knowledge who has gifted us with such a conducive environment for learning. (yeah right!?) Well this year the author Pingu purposely didn’t make it for the pious occasion. Read more to find out why!


A Pingu's page exclusive:

Dear Saraswatiji,

Were you looking out for me this year? My apologies I couldn’t make it for your auspicious Pooja. L 
But no...

I don’t have a chillar bhar ka regret!

Nopes, no tests. I was 'fulto' free. Just didn’t bother to make my presence felt!

Oh yah... I heard that!!! You called me an atheist? 
For heavens sake Sarawatiji, of all people not me!

Now u must be gossiping with Ganeshji. Yup I couldn’t make it home for Ganesh Chaturthi as well! (Was it this year or last?) And again no regrets!
A question may pop in your head . ‘Of all the 300 crore Hindu deities, what made me choose Ganeshji and you to express my displeasure? Here it goes:

Inspite of you knowing the unknown, I don’t expect you to know the reasons for my actions. You need to be a student at my institute to understand the ground situation.

9^th best technical institute in the country, infrastructure, qualified profs blah blah…All said and done, the knowledge which you impart us through your messiahs (that would be the teachers) is not being delivered in the appropriate manner.

No hard feelings, but if there was no concept of attendance I wouldn’t even bother to warm the benches compromising my comfort level for sleep! There are macho guys in my institute who would prefer watching Sarah Jessica in the SATC marathon then attend classes. (don't look over here, its not me!) With minute hand of the clock refusing to move faster the only concept that we learn is that of 'time dilation' over and over again.


The messiahs speak, we write (sometimes), they set the questions, we answer, they correct, we introspect and cry in regret. The one ingredient missing in this process is that of "Excitement". The excitement to learn and enjoy what you are learning. Sadly Saraswatiji you have not taken notice of this staunch reality and thus failed in your duty as our role model.

Sorry again for not making it to your day, but any ways I would still like to pray and ask for your wishes (don’t know if I am entitled to do so)
chill and read maadi!

1.     Compulsory shots of vodka should be given to every lecturer before d commencement of class. Heard people do some crazy things under its influence.

2.     For every extra minute the lecturer takes after the bell rings, he/she should be penalised for the same. (C’mon guys please be on time for the class, and this go for my chemical bros!)

3.    Oh the list will go on… be free to update the list readers..:)

Boy I wish I was at ‘kidzee’-where learning is fun!

But no work is supposed to be worship out here. Lo karlo aur pooja…

Times have changed drastically. If you try and play your veena today to facilitate the learning, it has to be accompanied with an amplifier tuned into heavy metal.( lets have some ac/dc!)

Ciao next year…

Hope things turn out better then. It would be my pleasure to grace the occasion. (anyway no one cares if I come or not!)

Yours truly,

Pingu

PS: I know I have been very rude to you, but please try to understand. Things aren’t going as the way I planned this semester. Kindly bestow your grace and mahima on my marks this sem! And yeah if you are friends with Kamdeva then use bhi baat karna..i hope you know what I mean ;)

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The Cut-Throat 'Biaaaatch'!

Amber: It’s a game. You can either play for fun or play to win. If you want to win, you want cut-throat.

Ok readers, please focus on the first three words of the title. ‘Every Biatch will eventually find its place only to get all the attention!’

To all the feminist out there: 'When I say Cut-Throat Biatch, there are no bounds on its gender....'


But whom are we kidding? Everyone agrees that a CTB is usually a female, dog or otherwise ;) (the bitching hasn't started yet)

There has to be atleast one CTB in every person’s life, be it a boy or girl.. There is this someone with a 32KB heart with absolutely no space for emotions. A someone whom you can’t help but to hate.A someone who is cruel, excessively rude, egoistic, dogmatic, stubborn, bossy, boisterous, obnoxious and extremely competitive (Thank you MS word for those adjectives!). Someone who can go to the ninth mile to win an argument to maintain one’s supremacy. A someone for whom winning means the world and the cost for it doesn't matter.


For a CTB the sun is just a celestial show piece who competes with her for the (lime)LIGHT. The world revolves around her. You may not like her, but you can’t ignore her. You always know when a CTB is around. A CTB is aggressive and therefore unfeminine.( ahem ahem). Usually they'l be the ones who talk the most, but there are other species as well... The ones who screw you behind your back, leaving you completely unaware of the upcoming catastrophe. No sign of remorse on 'her'(no gender specificity) face, instead she'll dig in as deep as she can possibly can and then move on to the next prey!

CTBs,they are everywhere… At work places, in classrooms (either facing the blackboard or otherwise ;) ), at hostels, at home everywhere!

You ride your bike on a pleasant Sunday morning and there’ll be CTB ready to overtake you. You go to an ATM and find a girl/lady drilling into her purse/bag at a leisurely pace not caring of the fact that the guy standing on the other side of the door has a class to attend in a few minutes! And then you get those “Watch it dude, I am a girl looks”… Yes you are pretty, but my hormones can wait, not the lecture!

 ‘CT’ or not but she’ll definitely get a well deserved ‘B’ from me!

Wonder how it feels being a CTB? Are you ignorant of the fact? Or you consider it as an act of affirmation by self instead of negation by others. But the fact is that, every one is a potential CTB. We behave like one once in a while. It’s a man’s world out there. To be able to live, a woman has to agree to serve, honour and obey and what she gets in exchange is a life in a shadow. CTBs refuse to honour the society. They want to be both female and human, an utter contradiction in an orthodox world. CTBs are the best example of how a woman can be strong enough to survive the rigid, punitive socialization… RESPECT!                      

It’s a game. You can either play for fun or play to win. If you want to win, you want cut-throat. Beware men they are here to rule...

HAPPY St. VALENTINE's DAY to all the CTBs I have ever known! (specially the one speical CTB I had in mind while writing this post *amen*)

Just for laughs! Exclusively for HOUSE M.D. fans

Embracing ∆(LIFE)…

“This Changes Everything!”  That’s what the poster on the notice board said…

A laugh seemed bellicose…

“Impressive”, I said. “I’ll look forward to it!”.

Unlike the poster that’s Impressive!

A lie so well camouflaged, that the best of the FBI’s dogs wouldn’t smell the sarcasm.

Vaccination for HIV, aliens invading the Earth, Apocalypse; now that would really change the whole kit and caboodle!

For good or the bad, but changes have always been atop of my “dislike” list.

I am not alone in this universe who hates ∆. Ask the people of West Bengal who just refuse to get things “RIGHT”! ;)

Why should I always be the dependent variable? When even a differential variation in someone else’s life results in a drastic change in my world!?

Why do I unwillingly let changes forced upon me?

Changes have been enforced upon me and I have capitulated to the ∆.

I often miss the past, especially thinking back to when I was a child. Back then I didn’t care so much of what people thought of me and was more open in some ways. I just miss not having the fear to do and say certain things, because when you are a child you don’t really think about the consequences of your actions or agonise so much over whether you should listen to the devil or the angel!

Where does the past/future lie? It’s there in my mind…

That’s were the sadness arise...

Life was so unpretentious back then, but delta had to strike, not once or twice but time and again!

Momma’s boy is no more a child today. From his personal room to a four membered concentration camp to a two membered cubical slot in a third world wing, its ∆ all the way!

There was a time a year back, when staring at the ceiling fan was considered to be a source of entertainment. Today is one such day for me. A day when one loses the purpose of his life. A day when existence and survival conflicts with my living.

Guess stagnancy in life comes with an expiry date embarked upon. With the hope to find some stimulus, motivation and spice to life, I continue to gaze at the ceiling fan…

And those anticipating a follow up to my previous post, “Wait for it....almost there" :)

Adieus amigos…