Friday, June 08, 2007

Snap

Note: I posted this post thrice. But nobody got my existentialist joke. It seems the world has lost it's sense of humour. Gah!

Work has been my enlightenment. I've realized that if you stare at a microscope for long enough with 3 hours of sleep behind you then you will begin to see the zen. You will then proceed to launch into a long tirade about the merits of marxism with your mouse, which will give you carpel tunnel syndrome because its too high. And then you will come online and write something that only you think is funny. You will also at strange hours of the night burn fruit flies with a match and then ponder reincarnation. Die mortals die!

In other news, community dining is following me like the mark of Cain. I'm a social Animal. Yes, caps on the A.

And Norah Jones pouts on a mic, Floyd are stoners and BB King whines too much. I now mock my idols.

See Enlightenment!

*creak*

*crreak*

[snap]

I am now big fellow bird. Cuckoo, I'm six feet tall so I can't be in a clock. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!

Ahahahahahahahahaha!

Help.

Tuesday, June 05, 2007

Of lies, flashbacks and bedtime stories

This post is dedicated to Sowmya, claims to be a stud liar.

I've always been a stud liar. Something about spinning wild stories amuses me to no end. The haymaker that puts the icing on each lie is a very stud innocent/oblivious look that I manage to muster. It comes right after saying something with the utmost confidence. The two laws of lying Sowmya proposed were.

1) Let it not bite you back in the bum
2) Always have a back up

I propose a third.

3)In case both fail. Just look like you don't have a clue.

It may not validate the lie but it sure as hell lets you make a clean getaway. Sometimes it even earns you sympathy. I know I must sound extremely mean when I say this, but I have to say... I never lied about anything that mattered nor did I never lie with mailicious intent.

Well at least to the people I like. [sly grin]

My most prized yarns however come from the time I was a wee boy in khaki shorts. It comes from a time when I was in the cub scout for a year and knew the duties of a cub as instructed by Lord Baden Powell himself. I would dream of gold stars on my sleeve and joining the IAF to become a fighter pilot.

It was also the year when I got my first "First Rank". Funnily I still remember the whole episode, but for some reason I'm sure the episode the way I remember it (airbrushed et al.) is probably not the way it happened.

The teacher would call out the name of each student in the roll number order and loudly call out the marks of everyone. And I knew whom to watch out for. That boy Lloyd, who never did anything but study, Manoj, who was so sweet it made me want to puke and the dark horses: Raylen, who was a real close friend, but still this was war and finally, Naren, who somehow always managed to get First rank in every mid-term exam, and only the mid term exam [I still don't get it]. But he was a threat nonetheless.

So there I was Sahil R. Kini Roll No:47 (The year of Indian Independence, it kinda made me strangely proud of my roll number) and my name was to come after all of theirs. Which reminds me, if I'm ever gonna name my kid, I'll make sure her/his name starts with an S. It's perfect, not too early so you can come 5 minutes late for class, and not too late so the wait for your answer sheet doesn't kill the kid.

I always felt sorry for Yogesh. Roll No:82.

Ok so back to the year 1993. It was the second test marks. I was sure I'd done well, but Manoj had done impressively. He was on top. The dark horses had missed by a large margin and Lloyd was sulking in his seat. (He never really sulked. I hated that about him.) and Roll no.46 just blew by. Finally, she said "47, Sahil, First Rank and then my marks [which I don't remember]". I was stunned.

My first first rank.

I stood up and walked all the way to the front of the class in my cub scout unifrom (on thursdays we wore our cubs uniform to school) complete with tie and beret. And I could feel all the eyes following me, Lloyd just looked at me blankly, Manoj smiled kindly (The bastard was always so gracious. Grumble) and I grinned as I took my report card from the teacher. I also remember applause. However I think thats the airbrush kicking in.

So yes, it was during this wonderous time. When I was all of 8 years old, that I would go to school and tell my classmates fantastic stories in an overbearing voice that makes me hate myself whenever I see videos of my kid sisters 5th birthday party.

You see, I had this neighbour called Mrinal who had just returned from England with his kid sister and family. They settled in right next door and at that time they seemed soo much cooler than we were. Mrinal was just as obnoxious as me as a child, maybe more (I'd like to think so). But he had a cool accent and polished english and knew about the chocolates I only managed to see in Archie comics ads.

And he had a Nintendo (gasp!).

He was also a brilliant liar. He'd tell me stories, mad stories about how Vega from Street Fighter the game was actually from the star Vega and was a huge warrior who kicked ass. At 14 he introduced me to RHCP and told me John Frusciante was the coolest guitarist ever and was Slash's elder brother and had taught him how to play. Whenever he told me about these cool people I'd never heard about, I'd be too awed to care whether he was bluffing or not.

I mean I knew those stories he'd spin were yarns, but heck I gave him the benefit of the doubt because at that moment, I had to admit, he was way cooler than me. 8 years later at age 16 I did tell him what I really thought of him. But by then, he'd grown up too. I miss him now, in my own little way. The boy who taught me all about putting pseud. The boy who my dad rightly refers to as "Guru".

So at age 8 most of my stories were complex extrapolations of the tiny fibs Minnu (thats what they called Mrinal at home. His only achilles heel. HA!) made passing references to. They would contain the most exquisite details, like how Vega's forehead had a scar because that's where lightning had entered him to give him his powers. But I wouldn't leave it at that. I would tell them of how I had met Vega and how the world of Street Fighter was soo much cooler than Milagres Primary School. I'd tell them that my 4 day vacation to my aunt's house in Puttur was actually a Himalayan expedition ( a phrase that I'd just heard from Minnu the day before ). I'd spin yarns about pretty much anything.

And that obsession with detail, of how the air smelt and how the ice was grainy and Vega's forhead still haunt me when I write anything descriptive to this date, or when I watch a well spun fairytale like Pirates of the Carribean. It's just one of those things Minnu taught me that has stayed with me still.

And probably still will when I tell my kids a bedtime story.

Monday, June 04, 2007

Bad to the Bone

"On the day I was born The nurses all gathered 'round
And they gazed in wide wonder At the joy they had found
The head nurse spoke up And she said leave this one alone
She could tell right away That I was bad to the bone"
-
Bad To The Bone (George Thorogood)

The song always makes me feel like a leather jacket wearing mean ass 18 year old with a Harley and a Pool cue. Rebel days baby! :D Also I can now play the riff. All that remains is for me to get a processor so I can get the patch right. Pi, please!

Surprise. Awe. Uber-coolness.





'nuf said.


Location: H13 IIT Bombay
Time: 5pm. Sunday, June 3rd, 2007

Sunday, June 03, 2007

A Glowing Tribute

Sat in my room all day because I was feeling a bit ill. After spending hours together napping. I finally did something fun. I heard PD in the corridor singing. He has this incredibly cool Electronic Tanpura that keeps ringing in the background giving the monsoon air a sense of humming solemness. I was so enchanted by the song that I asked him to dictate it as I wrote it down. In devnagiri, for the first time in 4 years.

It felt so weird because as the words came from his mouth my hands automatically moved to write something down in a script I had absolutely zero touch with. Since the song is in Marathi, I found it relatively easy to translate because all the nouns and adjectives are very closely related to Hindi and all the verbs and pronouns to Konkani. With help from PD, here's the song.

तेजो निधि लोह गोल
Radiant spherical treasure of iron.
भास्कर हे गगन राज
King of the skies
दिव्य तुझा तेजाने
Because of your divine energy
झागमगले भुवन आज
The earth shines with brilliance.

हे दिन मणि व्योम राज
O gem of the day, ruler of all space
भास्कर हे गगन राज
King of the skies
तेजो निधि लोह गोल
Radiant spherical treasure of iron

कोटी कोटी किरण तुझे
Countless rays of yours
अनलशरा उधळिती
Explode unrestrained
अमृत कण परि होउनी
But by becoming drops of nectar
अणुरेणु उजळिती
They enlighten every atom

तेजाताच जनन मरण
In your energy there is life and death
तेजाताच नवीन साज़
In your energy there is creation
हे दिन मणि व्योम राज
O gem of the day, ruler of all space
भास्कर हे गगन राज
King of the skies

ज्योतिर्मय मूर्ति तुझी
Full of radiance is your stature
ग्रहमंडल दिव्य सभा
The Solar System is aglow
दाहक परि संजीवक
Your energy burns but supports life
तरुणारुण किरण प्रभा
Your youthful morning rays
होवो जीवन विकास
May life prosper through them
वसुधेची राख लाज
May you protect the pride and dignity of mother earth

Spent the entire day playing the guitar and with music. This song is related to raag Lalith. Composed and sung by Jintendra Abhisheki and the lyricist is Madhusudhan Kalelkar. From a musical play called "Katyar Kalzat Ghusli".

Also I learnt a bit of raag Bhimpalaas today. So Yay!

Saturday, June 02, 2007

fraindship

I apologize for Kini, he isn't feeling very well today, so I thought I'd drop by.

How are you?

Good? I also.

Have you been shitting regularly?

Yeah, me too, but I've decided to stay off pseudo-Andhra food for a while.

... I love you.

...

...

I lovvvvvve you.

...


Hello, you're supposed to respond to that.

...

Ok, no need to be profane, assholes.

Hmph. Ok, back to the other friggin' konkani then.

-Pi


[You have to appreciate this, I just kicked up your appreciation for when he DOES post, rare as it may be]
Work doesn't appeal to me. Cricket has lost it's charm. TV from hollywood makes it seem like real creativity is dead, and that every story has to be packaged for an audience. The art of the "Hook" is what drives music. And the critically acclaimed stuff these days is either too complicated or too dark. Classic Rock is just that, classic. I eat more in messes and restaurants than I do at home. My friends are far away and life is drifting away from them. My family is growing old. I don't know what to do with my life.

Whatever happened to surprise? Awe? Uber-coolness?

God no.

Friday, June 01, 2007

I realised I write exceedingly well in bullet points. I think I'll take that MBA now.

Em B A. Don't try that progression. No strum pattern can make it work.

The irony.
I do not understand,

1) Progressive Rock
2) Death Metal and it's allies (Grindcore, Nu Metal, Goth and Co.)
3) Rap
4) Most of Hip-hop
5) Remixes

I like
1) Sappy love songs (The kind Norah Jones, Jack Johnson and John Mayer sing)
2) Trance (Infected Mushroom, Hallucinogen, Oakenfold, Prodigy)
3) Classical Music (Hindustani/Carnatic/Western/Anything)
4) Hindi Songs from the 90's with Jhankaar beats. With Govinda especially. They remind me that I'm an Indian.

I adore
1) Classic Rock (Led Zep, AC/DC, Kansas, Yes, Doors, Uriah Heep, Floyd) and I have a thing for Keyboard solos.
2) Blues (BBKing, Hendrix, SRV)
3) Old-school slow Jazz and especially swing.
4) Acoustic Guitar and funny lyrics (Thank you Tenacious D)

I don't listen to enough music. I don't read any books. My cultural education is a very intelligent cultivated farce. And you don't know it. HA!

Machine Gun Blogging

Random acidity from Shitake Mushrooms and Crabcakes. I should really learn to read the menu.

It rained in Mumbai today. For the first time this year. First rains of the monsoons. I missed it because of Shitake et al. No first smell of mud. Only puffed eyes by the end of rich expensive meal footed by newly rich working friend.

I had Souveneau Blanc. Shit that I had heard so much about. I shrugged. I really can't tell the difference.

And I also in the name of chivalry almost made a lady friend test the wine by graciously directing the first sip towards her. Apparently that makes me a social catastrophe.

Basic ground rules
1) You da man. You test the wine.
2) Smell the wine. If it smells nice, it's probably nice. (Du-uh!)
3) Swirl the wine. If it has a clean drop from the glass without any residues at the sides. It's a nice wine.
4) Don't gargle.
Were you looking for profundity?

*Snort*
 

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