Christmas @ mini Hogwarts

Merry Christ mas!

We’re having this big party and everyone’s here. I kinda expected this party to be wild but looking around I’m thinking, WHAT’S WRONG WITH THE WORLD!

In one corner is Mayu bhai discoursing on the philosophy of Christmas with a gang of followers from which I conveniently excused myself earlier.

Another corner is occupied by Adi with a gang of girls around him. He is holding a public reading of Harry Potter because for him it’s the same as Bible. In their midst in Anam di who is constantly tweeting live excerpts form the reading, oblivious to all the girls sitting around her, dreamy eyed.

Then there are Yencee and Shri, dueling, Rajnikant style.

Nc – Yanna Rascala!

Shri – Mind it!

And then they do a juggling sequence with their toy guns.

A separate group of girls have their heads bent together, obviously gossiping. They have Aakuh in the centre who emerges every few minutes for a – “awwh” or “eeeepp!” or jumping up and down clapping her hands frantically.

Obviously we have Nik and Rahul in a heated debate about which gang of girls to approach first by counting the number of blonde heads. Probably discussing tactics and pickup lines and all too.

Priyansh can be seen playing Gobstones (pebbles) with his friends, cracking PJs frequently and mistaking the SHUT-UP-OR-I’LL-AVEDA-KEDAVRA-YOU stares as looks of admiration.

Pooja can be seen playing with her dolls, that little chick. She is pestering her brothers to hold a doll each and help her with making up a nice doll-marriage story.

I and Rutaba were piling up stink pellets and dungbombs and plotting SIRIUSLY as to who is gonna be out next target while eyeing Nipun meaningfully all the time.

And at last, at long long last! There was the doorbell. SANTA! Both the gangs of girls rushed past me for chocolates pushing me into the now empty space beside Adi. Bitches.

And I did get my sweet revenge eventually. Guess what, NO CHOCOLATES! HA! By now you might have guessed the identity of Santa- Rohit! The girls sighed “hmn” collectively to which Ro just sighed and asked for something to eat.

That was that. It ignited Shri’s temper. For those who know him, you will realize how special it is. He launched at Ro swearing loudly in a language only Yencee could understand. We got to witness a very amusing fistfight between an overstuffed Santa and lean little Shri.

(“Mahn, food is such a driving force! You see since millions of years this has been the law of nature….”, droned on Mayu bhai to anyone who would listen.

The fight continued into the night with people betting on how much stuffing could Shri beat out of Santa. (I went home with my pockets considerably heavier as I bet on Shri winning the duel. I always had faith in my unkil.)

By the end we almost died laughing. Atleast now we had finally emerged out of our own separate worlds and come together to celebrate, thanks to Shri.

Now that we had died laughing, it must put an end to the story.

!Merry Christmas!

And a Happy New Year.

Unmasked

Does everyone wear a mask?

Yes, I do

And not just one at it

A new one for each person I meet

It’s because I don’t want them to know me

Until I permit them to

Until I’m sure the knowledge lies in safe hands

You may remember my status not long ago

To know who you are without any delusions or sympathy is a moment of revelation that no one survives unscathed. Some have been driven to madness by the stark reality. Most try to forget it. But as much as it gives another power, so you may gain power over yourself, if the truth doesn’t break you.

The concept of masks is best explained by sir Paulini in this book (unintentionally?)

He says that a Rider has 2 names. One is his real name and the other is the one with which others know him. The real name is hidden, even from himself. It is only after an enormous amount of deliberation can he know his own reality. Only few have the courage to undergo this deliberation. Even fewer survive it.

The knowledge of your reality has the power to destroy you. Do you really consider it wise to vest it in unworthy hands? Or in any hands for that matter? Because, in a moment, intentionally or not, they may completely destroy you.

Taking the risk of revealing yourself is sheer stupidity. The mask gives you the confidence of survival. The mask can be altered. The mask is convenient.

We ourselves must master the skill of controlling our masks. The act of thinking and the precision of execution is a step towards invulnerability. When none can guess, none can predict, none can conquer. Basically, you need to be a good Occlumens. Shut your mind and shut your mouth. For your own safety.

You may argue, what about trust? If we trust someone with our lives, surely we can trust them with our identity.

Not quite. When you yourself are unlikely to survive the encounter, how can you expect another to handle it well? It’s just too much information.

The mask, although may slip. It’s acceptable. Just an inch or so, to reveal your eyes. Eyes are the biggest giveaway. Eyes are the epitome of all that it true. Not even an accomplished liar can control their activity.

Now while you ponder over this stuff I will go design myself another mask. Now I hope my brother, I answered you well.

EPIC RAP BATTLES

Dobby:

Yo!

Hey Kreacher, what kinda creature are you

You called Hermy mudblood, is that true

You don’t obey Harry Potter sir

You still upto saving up your mistress’ fur

Your ambition is to get your head cut up and hung up on that wall

Mahn! I mean elf! Don’t you desire any freedom at all

Look at me dressed in socks and hat

Don’t tell me you don’t want any of that!

Excuse me, is that a tea cozy?

And that green thing, is that your nosey?

Kreacher:

Mudbloods! Children of filth!

Oh, what will my mistresses think!

And bringing a brat like you in here

Those curtains wont shut when she screams in despair

You betray our race, we’re elves and we work!

You wear new clothes, accept wages, that’s absurd!

Kreacher would die of shame if he were you

Your one sock is yellow and the other blue

I heard you into that mudblood’s SPEW crap

If I could I’d give her a tight slap

Dobby:

No elf shall talk of madam Hermy like way

She’s just working to give us better days

Free as a bird not stuck in that hole

Boy! Now you even look made up of coal!

You deserve to be treated badly by master Sirius

And left by Regulus in the cave of inferious!

Kreacher:

Oh bloody crap, you’re shitty at rap!

Madam Bellatrix threw a knife and made your neck snap

That’s what you get for running after your Harry Potter sir

You even lost Winky, I know you loved her!

I’d die than become a disgrace like you

Your head is full of shit and poo!

WHO WON?

WHO’S NEXT?

YOU DECIDE!

EPIC RAP BATTLES OF HP~!

Take Care

Just two years from now I had a best friend
So close, so damn close we were
Well versed with each others schedules
Busy, yes
But found time for us

Then meaningless fights
Got back together, of course
We were that strong, at least

Nothing passes without leaving a mark
Busy, still
But there was no time for us
Gotten on with life
Had new friends

That friendship is just a ghost of a memory now
I know what he’s upto
‘coz he left a hasty note before going
The longest time we talk is about
The time it takes to say hi
How are you

And no, we don’t launch into our stories
Like before, no formality
Just say a formal, I’m good
Take leave then, goodbye
I love you
We lie

Only thing not phony about it is
The parting
Really feeling that way
Despite everything
Despite the distance
I want you to

Take care

Silence...

He came running to her, out of breath. His hair ruffled by the wind, shirt flying behind him, panting slightly. “He looks like an angel.” She had thought. She was still not over his beauty even after three years of togetherness. His presence still filled her with the same excitement as it had done the first time. It was something resistant to fading over time. He was not conventionally good looking, but to her he was like a stone, in appearance and manner, carved artfully to satisfy her fancy. He felt so perfect that she thought she could never have him. She tried to find solace in other men, but unconsciously she had started comparing them to him. None seemed even close to his perfection.

Then one day, without preamble he confronted her with his feelings. It was a thing with him, you could never know what to expect. It could shock you to death either with elation, or agony. It was ironic, how he could induce such fierce emotions in others, when he seldom betrayed any emotion himself.

He had been away for the past two months now. She had missed him every single day, even the days when she had not thought about him. But tonight was different. She had had a sudden pang of urgency that had shocked her out of her sleep. She knew something was happening.

She stared at the ceiling for a long time. It made her restless. She put on her dressing gown and walked out into the balcony. Standing by the railing, she stared into nothingness. It was only after a long time she realized that she was cold. The night was chilly. Just as she was making her mind to get her coat, two hands wrapped a shawl around her bare shoulders. She didn’t give a hint of surprise. She had already known something was happening. He had come back. Unannounced. His style. Using the door was too conventional for his liking.

Now as he stood with his arms wrapped around her, it was as if he had never been away. She could feel his warm breath on her neck as he took in her perfume. They needed no explanations, no talks, no words. Together they stood in perfect silence.

You gotta be kidding me!

It was the first time I left a book unread after flipping through the first few pages. And it is saying something because I even read twilight when my friend suggested I read it ( I feel like I betrayed Harry Potter). But anyway, this one was even WORSE!

Ever since I read Vikram Seth’s poem in my English textbook and “A thing beyond forever” by Navoneel Chakraborty, I’ve been interested in reading more works by Indian authors. So one day I walked into the earlier strictly prohibited section of English books by Indian authors and got three books with good titles (atleast better than the others…er)

Not suspecting anything amiss, I started reading one and there I saw a-wait-ah no!- I’ll say it,-a – nooo!, okay a GRAMMATICAL ERROR! What? Sorry! A GRAMMATICAL BLUNDER!!

The book was written in PRESENT tense. Period.

No book is ever written in present tense. Atleast not the one in which the protagonist recollects his past that is the ones written in FLASHBACK MODE!

Realizing this I threw away the book in disgust as if it were something infectious, figuratively speaking as I respect books too much to do that. (as a punishment for it I put it in the darkest, most dusty, dingy-est and farthest corner of my bookshelf).

Plucking up courage, I started with the second one. Why didn’t my eyes POP OUT! It had SMS-LINGO!! And if that was not enough, 

*dramatic pause*

*drumroll*

SPELLING ERRORS!! Do not get me started on grammar.

To get over the misery I read The Digital Fortress. Again.

Third time lucky, I prayed, begged. No, grammar was fine. But story, not so. A college romance, again. Excused. Bad try at humour. Cannot be excused. Looked like a copy from some Bollywood chic-flick. And a bad copy, if I might add.

( no details as to the identity given because I don’t want you guys to ass kick me if you happen to like them, wait, since that’s not possible let me rephrase, “if you are the author because no one else would read it anyway. )

I always thought that before publishing a book it was thoroughly scrutinized, edited and a cover page carefully designed (and not use a stupid collage of some random pictures on a white background and no contrast or some cheaply  photoshoped cloudy background with unrelated gifs strewn all over it haphazardly or maybe some unremarkable landscape). How can a publishing company be so desperate to publish something, anything, that it can gamble its credibility for it? Because a bad story can still be excused as a fault of the writer, but GRAMMATICAL ERRORS are just TOO MUCH!

I promise to you my readers, that when I have my own publishing house, I would never allow such a catastrophe. Only the best would be published. If any of my fellow blogers want something published, they might send it to me. Special discounts if you are following my blog. Hurry! (advertising already am I ? ). Anyways,

Conditions apply.

Nervous Breakdowns....urgh!

Suddenly I feel crappy even though nothing really happened. I was literally quite happy a moment ago, joking, fooling around and making my best friend laugh. NOTHING at all happened and I start sulking. He got all worried and started enquiring if someone had said something to upset me. And I had absolutely no answer. Because nothing happened, anyway. I am the sort of person who preaches the teachings of His Awesomeness, Barney Stinson, “When I’m sad I stop being sad and start being awesome.” to every person I come across. And I follow it most of the times. For confirmation you may consult the friend I mentioned above.

Its just that, so many small, insignificant bad things happen. If looked at individually, I would laugh at the stupid prospect of someone being upset by things so minor. But this small stuff, sorta builds up. You might put it at the back of your mind, but the thing is, its still there.

Its like stuffing lots of liquid waste in a can, you can stuff it up to a limit before it bursts and that exactly is what I call BREAKING DOWN.

I’m scared to death by these emotional breakdowns because they make a person difficult to tolerate. They start talking non-sense, getting irritable and unbearable. Some start crying K (I HATE tears! It’s my weakness to give whatever a-person-with-a-tear-stained-face asks for just to get ‘em off my back. Tears- URGH!)

Annoying, they are. But you can’t live without them, really. Sometimes everyone needs to get the crap out of their heads. No one can, even the strongest person on earth, live without breaking down once in a while.

When this happens, and be assured it will even to you dear reader, all you would want is a friend to listen without offering solutions, because these problem are meant to be forgotten and not solved. You just need the reassuring sounds of “hmn” , “ohh” and “awwh” that too just to make sure that you have your friend’s attention. Once its out of your mouth, its out of your mind. You’re free again to be normal and cheerful and, well, you get the feel.

I don’t want to boast, but there’s no doubt that I have a pretty big CAN that can hold up stuff for longer periods of time. But umm(shit! I mean shot!), it makes a greater mess when it bursts!

In Fond Memory Of Engineering Students

This is in fond memory of engineering students or more appropriately “The Engineering Cult”. I won’t generalize, but truthfully, there are only a few exceptions to this rule. They have a few common tendencies-

1) They think of themselves as superior to commerce students. They think that students like, well me, don't take science to find an easier way out or that they are dumb and don't understand the concepts or are afraid of hard work and things like that. Who are you kidding people? We commerce guys just have different aims.

2) However boastful they are of their intellect, when consulted for advice by juniors, they almost plead with them not to take up engineering as the struggle for it is crushing them. Remember the time you mocked us commerce students that engineering padne ka apna hi tashan hai? Booyaa!

3) Now a special tendency of IITians. These guys are fond of "the catch". For them nothing is straightforward. A simple question put to them like what is 2+2 s answered by a silence of consideration. "The answer can't be 4! There has to be some catch! I will figure it out, that will show them I’m the smartest!" Duh-uh.

About 1 lakh people qualify as engineers every year. Almost half of them have no idea how they landed there. They don't even like engineering! They just go into it thinking its cool. C’mon people, anything you LIKE can be cool. You are the one who has to be cool. You don’t need to burden yourself for attaining degrees you can show off, half heartedly.

Speaking for myself, I belong to a science background, and I love science. Watching my peers and answering their repeated cries of-“I thought you’re gonna take science!” or “ But your parents are doctors!” I was almost swayed to join “The Cult”. But picturing my future, I want to see myself as a writer, start my own magazine and probably a publishing house. Science would be of no help. Commerce is what I need and not a sign of my incompetence.

I’m not justifying my choice here, neither am I discouraging people from taking up engineering. All I want to convey is that- think of yourself in the future and then make your choice. It is these what make you who you are. Don’t be afraid of being mocked for them.

Bleed blue @ airport

Unfortunately or probably not so, I had to leave for a vacation the day of CWC 2011 finals. All way to the airport in the taxi I was straining hard to listen to the commentary on radio above all the noise, an alternative I wouldn’t ever try coz of the lame and irritating commentary we get on radios.

Rushing through the customs and skipping even a look at the Delhi duty free, I dragged my parents and my brother to the screen showing the India v/s Sri Lanka match. Cricket made everyone sitting there a single entity. No business class, no economy class, that time every single one of them was an Indian. And as everyone knows, cricket is religion in India.

People were pushing each other to get a better view of the screen. On every ball they cheered, every boundary they hooted, and every wicket they cursed, in unison. People sat on the floors, and what people, those wearing neat coats and tuxedos did that! Sophistication was long forgotten. The foreign passengers were gaping at the scene, bewildered by all the noise. To them I say-“Guys, cricket here is much more than your redskins game.”

People were late for the flight, and they didn’t care. People were even ready to miss their flights! All for a cricket match. Oh my mistake! It was THE cricket match! When people name’s were announced to board the flight, they simply said let the damned flight wait, I’ll come after the match and turned back to the screen.

And the moment we won? Ohho! You can’t compare it to anything else! One guy literally removed his shirt and threw it in the air! Others made a circle and started dancing. Some of them made a human train and started running around the airport, this included the shirtless guy.

Imagine! Just imagine the scene! Can anything be better than this? Cricket in India is a great uniting force. We all BLEED BLUE!

Cricket, hats off!

A friend of a friend

I have heard a million times that an enemy’s enemy is an ally. But yesterday, due to some situation, I needed consolation. And that was when I came across its contrary statement-

“A friend of a friend is not a friend.”

Pondering on this, I found out that this was true in ever way. Everyone has experienced this but few would be ready to admit. Look at the following two situations.

1. You have a really close friend. And he is the only one. But to him you are “just one of the good friends”. Won’t those others induce a feeling of jealousy within you? Of course you would try to suppress it, coz it ain’t right to feel that way. You feel it anyway.

2. Your best friend introduces you to some of his friends. Suppose you are a girl and one of his friends start hitting on you. You want to thrash him but redeem yourself on the grounds that he is a friend of your best friend.

Now, can a friend of friend be your friend? Ah! Not unless you got a real high tolerance level.

 For this article, my sincere thanks to Tapas bhai

Rest in Peace, Ritu Ma'am

I read somewhere-

Life is a submissive slut, and death, its most priced customer.

And of course, if the bloody demon is paying like HELL, he would make sure he got the best. And that’s why all the good people go up first and the earth is full of assholes. As Kamal bhai says – “Saare harami niche rahe jaate hain.”

Why suddenly I’ve adopted truck-driver vocabulary? YES! I’m in SHOCK! It’s as if the truth hasn’t quite sunk in yet. The unnerving and untimely demise of our beloved Hindi teacher has taken a heavy toll on my mental well-being, something I never thought I would feel.

Death is something you just can’t get used to. Today while going for the exam, I still sustained a foolish hope that I would meet her in the corridor and greet her with a “Good morning!” I actually postponed writing this as felt that maybe this was someone’s filthy idea of a joke and I had absolutely no intention of making a fool of myself.

Ritu ma’am, we all knew, was very weak since like, forever. But that didn’t prepare any of us for what happened. I got to know that she had a kidney problem since past one year that finally lead to- well I can’t even bring myself to say it! She had always been good to me. She never lost her temper. In the 2 years she taught me- 7^th and 8^th, I never had any complaints- not even the foolish ones each kid has towards each teacher.

Not even one Montfortian is ready to accept this news. Why, oh why! To someone so absolutely lovely? I can name a hundred people who could have gone instead-I know I shouldn’t be talking so-but anything I say now will be an understatement.

The cruel game of fate.

The whore called life.

And the fucker called destiny.

The one above, if He even is there, has a creepy, filthy sense of humour.

Ritu ma’am, Rest In Peace.

Outcry for Japan

I feel ashamed when I’m sitting here at ease

My heart cries out for the Japanese

I remember when Tsunami hit India I was in Goa

I can never forget how much I thanked destiny

That I could live to see today

And now that a stronger one hit Japan…

It was the only thing on news that Friday

8.9, gosh, it was scary

And the helicopter shots looked so lethal

As if I was watching a video game

Lame, but the speed of water and the heat of fire

Had the same air of unreality to them

The ships, planes and cars photographed from above

I swear looked like a floor littered with a careless child’s toys

I don’t want to believe it was anything but that

Developed over the years and shattered in a 2 minute disaster

I don’t know why im getting all patriotic about a country that’s not my own

Maybe coz I understand the suffering as I nearly avoided?

Still something surprises me, more than anything else

The people were prepared

The government action was instantaneous

Evacuation successful, well as successful as you could hope for

This didn’t happen in India

Mitigation was only dealing with the aftermath

Very little, what was left

Warnings, none

Even in the harsh time, I plead the Indians to learn from our fellow Asians

We here think regular drills are a joke

Are we so naïve as not to understand their importance until disaster strikes?

Why bother when everything’s alright?

Jab hoga tab dekha jayega attitude

Jab hoga tab dekhne ke liye zinda bachoge?

They just don’t realize

Learn from the Japanese, my fellow Indians

I sincerely hope for the best for the victims and revival of Tokyo and all other places hit by the aftershocks.

Ameen

Cry, cry...

"मेरे मालिक सुर बक्श दे |सुर में वह तासीर पैदा कर कि आँखों से सच्चे मोती कि तरह अनगढ़ आँसू निकल आयें |"

- Bismillah Khan

Your tears make my day

Call me callous, call me sadistic

They are so true that I crave for more

So just cry me a river

Coz I don’t know why

But I love to see you cry…

Every single teardrop of yours is a glittering speck on my armor

When you sit in that corner alone, with tears streaking your face, leaving salty paths on your pale cheeks, you look heavenly. I just wish I can stand all night and just keep looking at you, smiling. Leaving you to yourself. It gives me immense satisfaction. Watching you slowly, painfully, recover from the spell I cast on you. I love it when you feel saddened, as if I’m making the worse actually happen to you.

I love your pain. I try my best to induce it.

“Stop it!” you might want to shout, but actually never wanting it to end. Ever.

The tears should weaken you

Only to make you stronger later

Hurt you

But increase your tolerance for pain

They must make you sad

Making you realize the need to make a difference

And then you will be happy

When you are as satisfied with yourself and what you’ve done as I am

It is every artist’s dream to instill in his audience an emotion that makes them cry. Every drop of that brine is a medal to his achievements.

“All I want is to make you cry

Give me tears, and I shall give you all I have…”

When Important Becomes Impotent

Oh yes I have heard those “English is a funny language” jokes in a hundred and one versions. But seriously, you could never have heard of the version I just compiled for you. Believe me guys English is a beautiful language, but its some people who are ignorant towards it who take it in their hands to spoil it. “English” is now considered a status symbol. So even if people are not comfortable with it, they still use it to show their sophistication and make a fool of themselves. They give it a whole new meaning- often in a ridiculous way. This trend I noticed in Hindi teachers, lab assistants, and a few more people.

Keep quiet- please quiet

Success- sex-ess (that’s how someone I know pronounced it)

Artist- drawer

And once, oh pray! Even I cant believe it….someone pronounced important as IMPOTENT!

The SMS lingo is a thing that can be misinterpreted. I’m specially mentioning this because I myself have fallen prey to it and I curse my stupidity. Infact, it was this that made me come up with this article. I asked a friend to CUM online at a certain time. Believe me it was an innocent request. He had this big “O” of a mouth then and asked me if I had lost it. When I remained non-plussed, he asked me to google it. And then if you want a piece of my disgust, I suggest you google it.

Another funny story I would like to account. There was this guy who was breaking up with his girlfriend and told her that she was ineffable but still due to personal reasons he could not be with her. For you account ineffable means perfect. Sadly that girl didn’t know what it meant and created a scene thinking she was in-F-able(you might remember this scene from HIMYM)

Guys, speak English but be sure you say what you want to convey. Might seem funny but these small misinterpretations can lead to a lot of confusion and misunderstanding.

I would like to conclude by saying-

“When Important becomes Impotent,

You know you should draw a line.”

Fare Thee Well

I had already planned an article to keep the memory of this day alive. But what happened today scrapped all my plans and brought a whole new centre to the story. Either the assembly was too good or I was too emotionally weakened at the prospect of farewell.Farewells have a resonating quality of binding people together. For me, I say a dozen times I hate my school, but now on this day, I’m proud to be a part of it all.

Most heartbreaking is to lose our headboy, the jagat bhrata- Hisham bhaiya. I use the collective pronoun to specify that not only me but every Montfortian feels so. Hisham bhaiya, you’re the best thing our school has ever seen. Your speech has made everyone in the vicinity cry. I would like to reproduce some extracts, as accurately as my memory permits. Though the words would be hollow without your energy.

“I would like to thank my juniors.Once my friend said that yaar Hisham tujhko humse zyada toh juniors jante honge. And it is because of them that even my batch mates call me bhaiya.”

“I would like to tell you something about me. ‘Cause most of you know me but many of you don’t know about me. I was born 18 years ago in a village in Uttar Pradesh. My dad was- for sake of sophistication - an agriculturist but in reality he was a farmer. When I was 4 I came to Delhi to study. My parents still live in UP and till this day they did not know the exact name of my school or my section or my teachers. They have been praying for the past many years for my happiness and success. Now why I’m telling this is because jab mai chota tha and bacchon se suntan tha ki mere papa lawyer hain doctor hain CA hain, toh mujhe bahut sharam aati thi apne papa ko kisan batane me. but today I feel very proud to say that my father is a farmer. Because when I was a child he had a dream, of seeing his child get the best possible education, and I’m proud to say that I’m just living his dream. All that I am and all that I will ever be will be because of my parents and because of my family, without whose support and love I would have been nothing. Today is a very special day for me because for the first time in my whole school life, my parents have come to my school. Mai aapse ye kehna chahta hun ki mai aapka shukriya toh kabhi ada nahi kar paunga but aapki duaon me bahut takat hai warna mai yaha tak nahi aa pata, bahut pehle haar maan gaya hota.”


After all the praise, all the awards, all the honours and immense popularity, he remains just as humble. The only headboy, probably in the whole world, jinki baat sab maante the. I am proud to have made your acquaintance in my lifetime. Hope you remember me as I shall remember you, always.


Not being too emotional, farewells never made me feel any sadness. But today, okay I admit, and proudly for that matter, that your speech finally managed to get those tears in my eyes that I had so well hidden, since so long.

Will miss you bhai jaan. Hope you have a successful life ahead.









I can’t say I'll miss him or not…but I’d never forget him.... He has shown me what life actually is and how it should be lived....- Mayank Sharma.


Though being in the same school we don’t know each other. But I don’t feel for gaining inspiration you need to know the person :) it can be sourced from anywhere and one such way is your speech...I mean its just INCREDIBLE and anyone will run short of words hearing it.....I really feel glad 2 have seniors like you :D - Aarushi Jain.


You are so inspiring!!!!..."man of the moment"......You need to start a fanpage!!!....may god bless you!- Sameeksha Jain.



After my parents and Sachin you are the only one I am inspired by...best of luck man. - Shivanshu Bansal.

Stoicity, No thanks.

Many might think that recently I’m not proving to be my usual self- the cool one I promised to be. Believe me guys, just being what I’m being right now is already draining me out of all my energy. I’ve recently suffered a great loss. And what loss - just the realization that I had been holding on to something that never was mine.

I have tried finding alternatives, tried finding distraction. But they hardly engage me anymore. I try to find sanctuary but all I manage to get is refuge for a few restless hours. I have, yes, tried to indulge into material. But since I had already lost all lure for it, its just as unhelpful. What am I left with except a daunting reality and a miserable life?

All I ask for is stoicity. I wish I could bear the pain without complain. If course I’m doing that now but without being stoic in the real sense. I don’t know how much more longer I can hold on when I’m hanging on a thread held so high.

Stoicity- it has always intrigued me. Stoic people seem so otherworldly. But today I’m not afraid to be one of them. Feel nothing. Have no effect of anything, whatsoever. Neither delight, nor sorrow. No hurt, no pain. It is luring me right now. How easy would it be to be emotionless. Practical minded. Eager to reason everything out. Think in terms of profit and loss. No compromises, ever. Because I have no weakness, I cannot be moved, you see?

But am I ready to give up the happiness? Is no hurt a package deal with no happiness? Will I never be able to laugh to my heart’s content? Wont I, thinking of my profit, cause loss to someone else, hurt them? If I’m not moved, will I be a barrier in someone else’s life? Another like me? And force them to think along the same lines?

Sometimes I want it, but maybe I’m not ready for it. No, I cant pay the price of my smile in exchange of leaving behind the pain. If life is made this way, its made for a reason. If I’m never hurt, can I feel the relief of health? If I’m never crying, can I understand the significance of a smile? No

I’ll deal with the pain. I’ll deal with everyone. Ill keep my emotions in check, I’ll KEEP them all the same. I’m ready to take my fair share of pain. Anyway, if it never belonged to me, I’ll forget it and move on soon. I’ll survive. I’m not ready to give up yet. Give up my emotions entirely.

Stoicity, no thanks.

Not decided yet...

Hello guys
This is something I wanted to share with you all. My Neetu Di actually gave me this poem to post from my blog. Support like this is hard to come by, specially considering I just met her 2 days ago. Di, I salute your gesture and hope to live upto your expectations. So guys I accept her generous gift and bring out to you an awesome poem by her.

Since Morning I laugh,

What to do surrounded me with Darkness..

Coz every light tide to my fist..

That’ll save me from the circle of darkness…

Worry about your deal…

I need not to negotiate with …..

If the man does not love…

Then it matter to me…

But I love people from heart..

So why does it matter to you , not me….

No complaint , coz I have not any mean…

Neither with master nor with butler….

In Illusion...(the story)

Kelly was lying down. An appropriate thing to do at past one after midnight. Not asleep yet but thinking and pondering upon the days events. She asked the same question to the walls everyday, every single stinking day. Of course she received no answer.

She had loved one, and only one man this dearly. He complimented her so well. It was obvious that they were meant to be. Her friends teased her with his names. On such occasions she blushed and denied that claims. She joked with him as to how stupid her friends could be. He laughed with her too. And then he held her hands in his own and they would stargaze for as long as time and their moms would allow.

Everything was not so straight. Gosh! Guys are so dumb- Kelly often repeated. He still thought of her as only a friend. Somehow she knew he loved her. Maybe he was not saying it as he feared she might not reciprocate? How dumb.

Kelly had tried many times to remove that hesitation form his mind, although inconspicuously. She too had that “What if?” dilemma. She did not want to lose what she had with Kevin in want of a bit more. Being a girl who liked to pay her own bills, that is to say not quite a fan of chivalry, she still wanted him to make the first move.

Gosh! Why are guys so dumb! She thought, fluffed her pillow and tried to sleep. But it was impossible. Their conversation was playing in her mind. It was her birthday today. Kevin had called her at 12 and they had talked for an hour. They would have talked for more, thanks to their night calling plans, had he not had his exams. “Fucking exams!” she cursed. It had been her who forced him to hang up.

Probably I can live with this forever, Kelly wondered. Maybe not more but we can still be friends. We can still call each other up at ungodly hours. We can still continue our stargazing ritual. We could still casually flirt with each other, anytime. There was no problem.

But whatever. If he decided to move on and hook up with some other girl. The thought was unbearable to Kelly. No, he wont- she liked to think. He would at least give me one chance. Wont he? Why would he? She did not have any romantic control over him.

Maybe she should find someone else too…..or wait? She had been in this indecision for months now. But each time she thought about it, it brought the same amount of pain as it had done the first time. No one could take his place.

Boys! She was angry now. Let him go to hell. Oh chuck it I know he loves me! The dumbass doesn’t realize how much I would stake for those 3 words. She had long since decided that she wont be the first one to speak up. If he doesn’t do it soon enough now….I don’t know…

I’ll live in illusion….

And then she fell asleep.

THE DIGITAL FORTRESS

Julius Caesar’s perfect square cipher box

Caesar was the first code writer in history when his foot messengers started getting ambushed and his secret communiqués stolen, he devised a rudimentary(though still genius) way to encrypt his directives. He rearranged the text of his messages such that the correspondence looked senseless. Of course, it was not. Each message had a letter count that was a perfect square-sixteen, twenty five, hundred, depending on how much Caesar needed to say. He secretly informed his messengers that when a random message arrived, they should transcribe the text into a square grid. If they did, and read top to bottom, a secret message would magically appear.

Over time Caesar’s concept of rearranging text was adopted by others who modified it to make it more difficult to break. The pinacle of non-computer based encryption came during World War II. The Nazis built a baffling encryption machine named Enigma. The device resembled an old fashioned typewriter with brass interlocking rotors that revolved in intricate ways and shuffled cleartexts into confounding arrays of seemingly senseless character groupings. Only by having another Enigma machine calibrated the exact same way, could the recipient break the code.

A CODE FROM THE BOOK

PFEE SESN RETM PFMA IRWE OOIG MEEN NRMA
ENET SHAS DCNS IIAA IEER BRNK FBLE LODI


Blocks of four- just like the Enigma

Four by 16=64

A perfect square

Eight rows of eight

P F E E S E S N
R E T M P F H A
I R W E O O I G
M E E N N R M A
E N E T S H A S
D C N S I I A A
I E E R B R N K
F B L E L O D I

Caesar’s box. Read the message up to down. That will give a message.


“Prime difference between elements responsible for Hiroshima and Nagasaki.”

Prime= prime number
Difference= subtraction
Elements= the ones in chemistry

…the common conception that the Nagasaki bomb was a plutonium bomb. In fact, the device employed uranium, like its sister in Hiroshima.

Nagasaki bomb did not use plutonium but rather an artificially manufactured neutron-saturated isotope of uranium 238.


Atomic mass of uranium is 135

U-235, U-238 and Plutonium…


Now it wont take a genius to guess the kill code.

Prime difference of elements…

238-235=3

A prime number.

Difference in mass of the two isotopes of uranium.

Aint that totally genius?
And simple, basically pure?

There is nothing like the digital fortress, no unbreakable code.

An unbreakable code is a mathematical impossibility.

The Bergofsky’s principle holds.

Okay now guys, break this code (of my creation- very easy!)

SDEL AANN YEMR BTLB TKOA
OUAH LOSE VSKN DDMU TRDE
IKFE YTAS RDNI OSJI NAIO
GNRP OTDN NSAG HIKI DDKT
NAET ECRI PODR AESA IFLP



decrypt the message
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credits- The Digital Fortress by Dan Brown
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