I no longer blog at this place.
After an on-off relationship that has lasted about two years, I have finally moved to Wordpress. This is my last post on Blogger. My new blog address is aeux. I am retaining this blog, because one particular post has served a mighty good purpose, the only one of its kind on this blog, and I dont think it would be very nice to deprive myself of the happiness that it generated.
The honourable men calling the shots at my place provide no funds for setting up geysers in bathrooms. As a result, taking a bath now is tantamount to merciless, homicidal self-flagellation. This is so because:
1. You gotta have a heating rod. Semester thodangumbo medichillel pinne kaashu marikkan paadu pedum. Who buys a heating rod in the late summer? So here I am, without one, mine having being stolen by faithful borrowers.
2. Even if you have a rod, you gotta have the time to stick it in the bucket, propped up on a piece of wood placed on a diameter.
3. Pinne ee bucket of water, a good 1.5 kg, athinem chumannu ponam, bathroomilekku.
4. Murphy annan's rule: Let's say you do pull up the straps and go through all the above bullcrap and get the bucket of hot water to the bathroom. There, right beside the door will be another red bucket, reserving a place for the retard with glasses who got up a fraction of a minute before you did. I mean, who gets up before 8 in winter, goddamit...
5. Let's take this hypothetical situation further. On a day, when you do get to the tap, the thin envelope of warmth which clung to your body all this while is completely corroded in seconds by the nasty ["rheumy"] air, exposing you to the unforgiving, cruel cold. With no other choice, you stare at the steam rising from the bucket, and sigh deeply. Grab a mugful and let the oohh-s0fuckinggood blast of warmth energize your whole body. That would feel completely nice, but in 2 seconds the rate of cooling goes bonkers and things would start to go weird. Then onwards is this frantic madness of trying to keep warm and get clean at the same time. It's when you towel yourself is when you go insane with the cold.
Once you've taken the bath everything's all right. Slightly shivering from the jarring experience, you make your way back home, back to dirt and grime. But to repeat this whole circus routine on a daily basis just might turn me into Hannibal by the time the sem ends.
These IAS guys are so just freaking awesome. To say nothing of the people who clear the exams and interview in their very first attempt. Though the naysayers and detractors of aspirants might contort the whole picture into one of puppet and puppeteer, it is quite obvious what the "upsides" (complete understatement of ubercool kickass Godlike explosively fuckawesome) of the job are. It is generally known that the interview board is composed of the best known fodu merciless personalities who are (or seemingly are) stalwarts in more than one field.
I was talking to this friend about the IAS exam and IAS ppl in general. He shared some awe-inspiring anecdotes about the interview thing with me. He told me quite a few questions that were asked to aspirants, and the answers that were given, of which I attempt to reproduce a few. Some questions that were asked to aspirants and the answers:
1) This was asked to a person who was working as doctor: Being a doctor is one of the most noble services that one can render to humanity. What did you see in the IAS profession that could possibly be greater than that?
A: A doctor can only cure disease-infected patients. If I do become an IAS officer I can take steps to eradicate the cause of those diseases entirely.
2) This was asked to a B.Sc Physics or B.Tech fellow, i donno which: Of all the laws of nature you have studied, can you tell me one law that can possibly be applied to the profession you seek?
A. (Reply comes within 2 seconds, it seems) Newton's Third Law.
The rest of the questions are currently unavailable due to a variant of this extremely irritating phenomenon. But hell, those answer-givers are surely an asset to our nation. The spontaneity of those answers, the dedication and passion - those people truly become the personifications of those elusive intangible entities.
Some of the IAS ppl i really admire: Malayattoor Ramakrishnan (wrote the finest, most awesomest short stories in Malayalam, resigned over some issue, and wrote books. Was a great boozer. \m/), J. Radhakrishnan (took timely steps in Nagappattinam district during Tsunami), Raju Narayanaswamy, Alphonse Kannanthanam, T.N. Seshan, and many more.
Unabused Power. The power to politely tell politicians who are flouting the restrictions imposed by the Election Commission to quit fucking around and obey the goddamn rules just like any other self respecting bastard. The power to make a difference. The privelege to be talked about as truly having some of the biggest balls in the country. Ye hota hai asli aukat. I salute these men, may their tribe increase. Jai Hind.
Seems like it is Breeding Season. All the goats, and the stray dogs are dingolphying around and making small goats and adorable puppies that cause near-accidents on the road on a daily basis. Even the rats in my room are at it, as I discovered this evening.
I finally met the progeny of the heroes I've been tweeting about for a couple of days. Unfortunately for him, his mother had passed away a few hours ago. I discovered her small carcass lying by the side of the unused air cooler. He had no idea about his mother's demise, he being too young to understand death and fear. So he just scampered out of the room next to mine, via under the door, and just sat there. I was on a call, and saw something move and go still. I soon discovered him sitting right there, unmoving. Oh, he was really cute.
Curious, i prodded him with my finger. He gave a little jump, and faced away. When i poked him twice more, he got pissed off and quickly scampered under my door and hid himself between Prashant's bag and trunk. It wasn't very good hiding, because to hide you gotta keep moving. This guy just stood there, posing while i adjusted the lighting with an Emergency lamp. Cute little fella, ain't he? :)
It's been quite a long time since school, and I have absolutely no idea how I used to study stuff back then.
I pushed off on my own in the 8th standard, my mother absolving herself of anything to do with my studies with the crucial 7th standard Annual Exams. Initially I faltered, of course, but I quickly adapted and survived. I actually used to highlight sentences in the History textbook and study daily. Whew, and my folks cut the cable connection that year. Broadband didn't come till after the Engg. exams, ditto for the loong-overdue system upgrade. Windows 98 was still running till the 12th std, and i had to make do with Dial-up internet.
Right now, with the worst, entirely fucked up timetable of the whole world, I am faced with as little time for stuff as possible. The laptop makes things worse. Whole chapters stare back at me with the most ":|"-est xpression, not unentirely like Thurman. My friend misplaced my All-in-One notebook, contaning all my notes, products of an idle mind and some good mechanical autopiloting while fighting sleep. Fighting down occasional paranoia and trying not to look down, I gingerly mount the portions, praying that the new rudraksham around my neck do me some supernatural favour during the exams. This is hardly studying, and it's absurd that after 2 years of this bullshit facade of copying and faking results in practical exams, I suddenly become an Electrical Engineer.
Hakuna Matata... Yup, none whatsoevah. :)
