THE WILSONITE : Reloaded

Reduced number of confused rambling adolescents, same messed up blog, 2nd year of awesome fun! cut loose!!!

Wednesday, December 28, 2005

Bachelor's of Mass Media - 101



Have a Happy New Year

-Darius Mistry

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2005 is almost over and ders no time to loose.
ders 125 blogson the site
lets hav a vote 4 d best 1 on d site

Tuesday, December 27, 2005

Life is beautiful....(finally)

WELL WELL WELL...been a while since my last post, hope u guys missed me!! well so here I sit doodling on a paper nearby, reading the most insane book ever n sipping on white wine thinking what to post about. There’s a lot that’s happened in the past 48 hours when I come to think about it, even enviable things at times...considering I had Christmas day dinner with shahrukh khan who to my surprise turned out to be quite a chiller.....so without further ado let the stories begin.........
On 24th my plans for the house party I was having at my empty place in lokhandwala on Christmas eve seemed shaky, mainly cause most people were dropping out but yet we decided to go on with it n when I look back now Im so glad I did because what i was hesitant about turned out to be the best Chrismas eve party ever. we started off with 5 people but slowly people started in and the party just kept getting better n better. mini g (sounds like a rappers name doesn’t it) n gayatri were drunk with 2 beers n a shot as usual but soon to join the drunk bandwagon was darius n hakim....man imagine having 4 people getting drunk out of their skull screaming I luv you to every person they saw.....before hugging them.(now when I think about it, it actually was sweet) they all passed out by about 4.
The cops came once cause of the music, so we lowered the volume (for exactly 4.30 minutes), I smoked my first cigar ever n I totally loved it. Then to top it all came mr bronx a friend to whom I could dedicate a whole separate post but simply put it requires 4 cigarettes, a quarter of bottle of rum preferably old monk, and a plastic soft drink bottle....what you do is fill 1/4th of the soft drink bottle with rum n make four holes on the top of the bottle with a lit part of the cigarette, once that is done u insert four new cigarettes into those holes, ignite them n pull from the top........so coupled with the kick of the cigarettes, the fumes of the rum give you such a hard kick you’re out after about 4 drags..
Since I had spent 24th night with my friends 25th night belonged to family n I was totally for that theory....I’m the kind who loves chilling out with friends but at the same time I love a nice family dinner, so my family decides to try out this new place called monzo at big bazaar (this place has got the best wine stock in Maharashtra!!! trust me on this one) we were barely done ordering drinks when in walks....none other than……. ...SHAHRUKH KHAN *drum roll* he knew my masa n massi (uncle n aunt) n soon he decided to join us for a while, I was so pissed. It’s meant to be a family dinner dude n you’re not invited. what was funny was the way he desperately tried to make conversation.....he'd go so what's your name.......shahvan......ahh dats nice we have the same first four letters......what a coincidence.......heheh so which college do u go to Shahvan...... Wilson.....ahh nice college, n what are you studying there??.............BMM..........dats a nice field, so how’s life (when he said that I cracked up).............uhhh fine, so what are you doing here??....well I just came to inaugurate the lounge below..........hmm heard its good...............etc etc etc thankfully the conversation got better later on n I realized he wasn’t such an irritating guy after all especially after the long needed haircut, quite a chiller he even offered me a cigarette but because of parents had to pass what’s sad is that it was my brand, do you know how difficult it is to pass on a cigarette of your brand arghhhhhhhhhhhh!!! But I had a nice time, this is the first time I’ve actually changed my opinion about somebody otherwise my first impressions are generally my last.
Well my post is getting a tad too long now so ill wrap it up quick, Iv had a lovely new years eve, I’ve had a lovely Christmas, got a lot of gifts…got kissed under the mistletoe by my sisters friends (one of whom I once dated) n the weather’s just right……
Things couldn’t get better. MERRY CHRISTMAS to the world.

- Shahvan

Monday, December 26, 2005

Hmmmm...

Everyone
is dancing
to a tune
that I just
can’t hear

I was reading my subscriptions on xanga and i came across this wonderful poem which kind of reflected my inner feelings. I believe i was going through this phase, where everything is happening against me. This whole month has been crazy for me... i have had fights, arguements, missunderstandings, loses( i lost my only Esprit watch), bad marks in exams, accidents, drunk friends, headaches, etc. You name it and it happend to me. And somehow all this while i was being weighed by my own thoughts and interpretations. And then began this period of frustration, anger and irritation. I started looking at the world with a tainted perspective. I started believing everone else was havin fun and i was the only one with dark clouds above him.

And now after things are calming down... i look back and smile at myself...wow... i had been having a helluva time...haha. It was a time of contemplation and self-analysis... and i got closer to myself. And i came out taking all this as an experience.

I would get lost in my own little world and start thinking about the wierdest stuff. With a blank face put on... my mind would race in an unknown maze of thoughts. Often i would bump into ideas... wierd ideas... different... funny... creative... and i would smile and giggle at myself. I have started lovng isolation even more... Its fun to be alone... I have begun enjoying life like never before. I treasure each second which ticks away... savouring every bit of it... be it in my favor or not. Even the pebbles on the ground incite a chain of thoughts... and every living or non-living entity means something to me... i have fuckin turned into a romantic freak... and i m enjoying it... who says one can’t be high on life...

The new year is fas approaching... and i m geting this intuituion which tells me... things are going to change for good... happy times are on their way...

To all my classmates...friends...knowns...unknowns...family... i love you all... unconditionally!

)(Sahirr)(

blue christmas

sometimes its just one of those things you cannot explain...i mean you can be a most of thing sto a lot of people...everything would seem so straightforward, so clear cut...
this time of year is magical. its not just religious in my opinion its magical...it gets into you...it does a lot to you...it gets you to become so happy...sometimes i feel it should always be christmas....because christmas transcends barriers of race and religion and you dont have to be catholic or protestant or even christian to enjoy this beautiful time....christmas now has taken on a new meaning in urban bombay....it means the youth have a reason to party...a reason to celebrate big...it doesnt mean the same to me....christmas means a lot to me...
i love christmas....i love it a lot...but this year around was easily the most hollow christmas i ve ever had...it didnt feel like christmas...it didnt feel like it at all....i guess christmas takes on a a different meaning for me...christmas is the greatest reminder of my mother...christmas became so important because of her...she made it so special she made it like a real feeling...i would meet my cousins,my aunts my uncles....everyone...we would go for mass and enjoy the party...we would eat sweets.....go carolling (yes once) .....decorate the tree....go christmas shopping.... i ll never forget the feast i d have every christmas... the turkey, the bread the stuffing...everything....the plum cake too... lets not forget the drinks though....the port wine...the whisky...the red wine...and of course the rum.....the family of all the ages would come together and well, get drunk...wake the next morning... hungover (all of us including my 70 year old great aunts and uncles) ... go for mass in the morning and almost fall asleep (ok always fall asleep) .....
but my mom left years ago.... still i would meet her for christmas... i would meet my cousins on occasion...i would meet most of my family.... but less and less i see them...there are no parties anymore....just demanding ones....they ask me to buy a pass to go to a nightclub for 2000 rupees...for what? for christmas? .....thats just not happening...there is no more christmas tree..i dont have the heart to bring it down and i dont have the soul to decorate it...there is no more carolling, i dont even remember most of the words anymore...i dont meet my cousins anymore...i havent bought anyone a christmas gift nor has anyone given me one...i havent kissed my cousins on the cheeks under the mistletoe, i havent even meet them for a few months or so...all these things dont feel so good anymore...
everyday i forget more and more abt my mother....but my memories of christmas with her are very strong.... she has her own life now with her own family... im there sometimes... but at other times im not.... i miss christmas.... i miss what it uused to mean to me.... i dont see the point of celebrating it anymore.... i dont understand it anymore... i miss my mother the most during christmas... i feel really empty during this time of year... just like peter parker ( i love my comic books and sometimes they sum life up so well) and what he said in spider-man blue: (i ve spoken abt it many times in the past) "i guess when i try to some up how i get this time of year....i feel blue...not like i ve been dipped in with the tidy bowl man, but like in music, in jazz...in feeling blue....."
its been a very difficult 48 hours.... christmas eve and christmas day....i m not really a mommas boy... i really miss her much during the rest of the year...i think bat her occasionally....but its christmas that reminds about my mother...im so happy that im going to meet her tomorrow....to meet her on boxing day is a kind of redemption... shes gonna give me the home made christmas sweets she makes very year... i love them a lot.... i always share them with friends...in doing that im sharing my christmas with them.... i feel really blue cause i really miss christmas....i feel really blue cause this year like all the others this time reminds me most of my mother...in short christmas is my mother.... in short this was a blue christmas for me..

siddhant 25th december 2006.....11:55 pm ( im sorry to bring you guys down but writing makes me feel better..and no pity please)

Sunday, December 25, 2005

Twas the Night before Christmas

I should be in bed sleeping after last night. It was a monumental effort to fight sleep on my long journey home a couple of hours ago. Once I got home though, it sort of left me completely, and I also discovered that while my phone line is still dead, I have MTNL triband working perfectly. I didn’t ask why or how that was possible. When life gives you an opportune moment you strike upon it. Which is the whole point of this post. I could probably doze off right now, believe me, the bed is calling to me. But then you’d probably not get a more honest post from me later on. I’m not going to be descriptive as usual, but rather I’m going to be straight up and tell you what I’m feeling. This is the best time to write, when it’s still fresh in my heavily hung over mind. This is the opportune moment…

As was last night. Life gave us a lot last night I think. And we did a wonderful job of striking upon it. Things were looking bleak just seventy two hours ago. People were tentative about coming, some people had problems at home, some others were too far and it was too late for them to come. The fact that the whole plan was devised on MSN didn’t help proceedings much either. We were a skeptical bunch in that chat box on Friday night… But I don’t know why, somehow I knew that things would turn out perfectly in the end. I had a hunch that everyone who could make it would in the end, make it. Don’t ask me why I know. Maybe it was something in the air that night. The Christmas spirit, if you will. I don’t know, but it’s beside the point.

So, to the actual night…Yes, yes I was hammered. I was gone completely beyond recognition. I was slurring in speech and shaking in stride. It had been a long time since my last high like that, and by god it felt good. Took a while to get me like that though. At one point, I was actually wondering whether anything was going to hit me at all you know. There were two bottles of rum, a very large bottle of Vodka, and some beers to go through the night. When I look back now, and try and tally how much I must have drunk, I think it was something like a half of the Old Monk, the midnight shot of Bacardi, definitely half the vodka, and one beer in the beginning. Oh not to mention our good old buddy, Mr. Bronx. Before that vodka came along I was fine. Things were going well. The two Gayatris were both already smashed, with Priyanka taking up her job as drunky-sitter for both of them.once again, in the very best of spirits. Although in retrospect, Big G hardly required a hand, she was already getting everything a normal girl might want *cough, cough* Mini on the other hand, required a sharp nudge or a poke every now and then, to keep her awake. And maybe a few more for all of those sleazy sexual innuendos that you know only she could come up with! At the point that I’m talking about, here was the situation with the booze. The rum was dead, and so was the beer. All that remained was that large domineering mutha of vodka. Now these had been polished off rather quickly. Any sane person would wait awhile, and not open the vodka. But we were randy little bastards, especially Hakkim and I, and we were on a mission.

Meanwhile, Shahvan being the genius that he is, decided it was perfect time to introduce Mr. Bronx to everybody. Now Bronx is this wonderful little device that requires 4 cigarettes, a quarter of bottle of rum, and a plastic soft drink bottle. I’ll try and put up some pics of it, if I find any, to explain what it exactly looks like. Basically the idea is to take a drag of the four cigs sticking out of the bottle, with the fumes of the rum. A major mule kick in the head is guaranteed every time.

You know the best part about being high. It’s when you’re standing on that edge, the edge of reason if you will. Behind you lay sanity and inebriation lies ahead. When you finally take that next step, that transition, the few seconds in between of absolute bliss, where you tell yourself for the first time, that you are going to be drunk, that’s what makes it all worth while. The self realization and the immediate acceptance of your body to your mind’s decision. That’s the real high right there. I think that just before that bottle of vodka was opened, I lay on my line of self realization. I had a lot of both the Bronxes prepared, and the rum was still in me. I was buzzed a little bit. When I went to open the vodka and I came back into the hall, I spotted everyone below smiling up at me. Well, all the drunk people at least. That was my moment of change. It was like standing on the edge of a high diving board, and watching everyone who had taken the plunge, almost calling out to you to dive in as well. I made my decision. With a smile, I opened it, and took a large swig. They had to get it out of my hands in order to get it for themselves. I was mildly content. I lay down in between everybody and made myself comfortable, singing along with the rest of them. By the time the bottle came back to my hands, I could see that they had been busy. A little less than a quarter of the stuff is left, and it gets into my hands. That’s when it starts. The chanting. Down…down…down…And I’ll bet it was mostly the girls who did it! I debated for about a few seconds. Then it didn’t matter any more. I started. I was counting the glugs in my mind, as it went down my gullet. And it was done. I remember smiling at everyone all around me. I flopped down harder this time, onto someone’s lap, I think (I think it was Priyanka) and I counted my blessings that at that point Comfortably Numb started playing on the deck…*sigh*

I realize now, as of this moment what the whole night meant to me. Right now, when I’m in a very sleepy, very hung over state, yet smiling, I’m thinking about all of you. I’m thinking about the best Christmas get together I’ve ever had in my 20 odd years on this planet. My brain is doing loops s fast right now; it’s almost like a Loony Tunes show. You what’s really funny… I can still hear snippets of last night’s many wondrous conversations echoing in my head very softly, Running from chamber to chamber in my mind. And when they get just audible enough to make out the words, I smile as I remember them. I don’t even know what’s keeping me up right now, this sudden urge to write this much, this itch to have everything recorded down and well documented as proof of its existence. I want to share with the rest of you what exactly is happening in my head right now. I don’t know if I’ve made much sense in this little fiery write-up and at this point I don’t really care. What matters is that I’ve said what I’ve had to say. Hmmm, as I wrote that sentence just now, I could feel that I need to wind up this post. It feels like it’s time. Just one more thing to be said. Thank you. Yeah…every one of you. For everything. For all the efforts, for just about everything that was said, done and everything that transpired. Last night would not have been that magical if any one of you were not present. To the ones who didn’t make it, we missed you a lot, we really did, terribly. Fear not though, there shall be other nights. We have three years together. And may they be the longest of our lives…Love you all.

Darius Mistry

Friday, December 23, 2005

Chicken Little – And err... the sky ain’t falling

Well I happened to see the movie today. It made me smile...but not laugh. The movie is good overall...its just that movies like Shrek, Finding Nemo, Ice Age and Madagascar have raised the bar and also our expectations.

So what is the movie about? Well... its about this little chicken who is having a bad phase in life and it all begins when ‘the sky falls on his head’... you will have to watch the movie to know what I mean. He becomes the butt of everyone’s joke and embarrasses his dad often... he has 3 close friends... a fish (fish out of the water) , a pig(Runt) and a duckling *ugly duckling* (forgot her name). So... its a journey of how this... lil hero of ours ...regains popularity and saves the world... well yeah... he kinna does that.

Just like many other Disney movies... this one too mocks Hollywood... this time the movies under spotlight were...Star Wars (Darius... you will love to know Runt watches Star Wars too...), War of the worlds, and Signs (there could have been others too)... There are certain songs too ... ‘staying alive’ ...and ‘ I will survive’. Well the ost of this movie is very good ...especially the opening song... ‘a cup full of...’.

So what makes this movie different from other animated movies? Great technical aspects is the answer. Well 1st of all...awesome sound...(do watch it in good cinema hall with Dolby or THX)...and then they have this amazing real-life camera sequences (its like when the camera moves along with a character...just like in Matrix...and I know cameras are not used to make animated movies)...great detailing in animation (you can actually see the shadows of each feather on the hero’s head) Father and son relation is under focus again (a bit different from...finding nemo)... the dialogues are OK...and the story lacks depth and feelings... this is where the movie falls short. Also... a few good sequences never make a great movie. Although the movie will attract kids... of a certain age group.

The movie is too short... barely over an hour... if we stick to its theme...its just like ‘chicken feed’... Though its worth a casual watch... the beginning and the end sequences are really well made... so lemme conclude by saying "Ain’t no mountain high enough...ain’t no valley low..." ... jaakar Chicken Little dekho...(burp!)...


Sahirr

"Chill out yaar! Pass hai!" - Darius Mistry

Greetings to all,


Yes it has been a long time since I have posted anything. I've just been feeling too lazy and I decided to take a little sabbatical from blogging and to kick back and read others' posts for a bit. Right, down to business. I do have a lot of experience, epiphanies and discoveries that I probably need to catch up with. One of these would of course have to include the college Annual Day, or as it was popularly entitled OLE 2005. There shall be a completely new post dedicated to that particular night of...celebration.
But before we get to that, gather around children, and read on about what happened on that morning on my way to college, for Sudhakar's 9 am lecture, the last one before the vacations.

Right, so I got up at around a quarter to 7, got out of bed, brushed my teeth, and after a quick fire breakfast of jam and toast with some tea, I headed for a shower. When I got out though I found that I was running a little late to leave so I hurriedly got dressed and decided to hop on a train from Vashi station instead. I thought I'd get an empty one too, since there was a train that was due to start from there in fifteen minutes.
I caught a rick to the station, handed the fellow a little over ten bucks (it's highway robbery in New Bombay) and got onto the platform just as the train was pulling away. I just managed to jump onto it as it caught a little more speed. So there I was, over the Vashi bridge, balancing precariously, one foot in the train, locked into that pole in the centre, and the other dangling out, with one hand holding onto the pole and other to my notebook (it was wise on my part to leave the bag home) And this is in First Class! You could probably now picture the kind of hell I have to go through every morning on the Harbour Line. Now I'm not the sort of guy like your typical Bombay commuter. I think it's pointless and retarded to hang from the door, endangering both yourself and the two assholes in front and behind you. But I was running late, so on this particular occasion I was probably justified in catching this train. I did think however that if it got worse; I'd get off and catch the next one. But it didn't really get all that bad. The crowd thinned after we reached Govandi station. By that, I mean that I managed to get both my feet on solid ground and well behind the door.

The train pulled into Chembur station. Now here’s the thing about Chembur. There’s only one platform for both 1 and 2. On one side are the slums and on the other side, is a wall. Behind this wall is the bridge to get off the station and the road leading into town. I was facing the side of the wall. From where my coach was standing, I could see the steps of the bridge behind me. I looked around the wall, at the various posters. These posters always fascinate me for some reason. Some will be about the latest Marathi blockbuster, others will be political slogans, or numbers for the best sexologists in the neighbourhood. It’s the very essence of this city that is captured on these walls. But something else grabbed my attention after a little while. From the corner of my eye, I spotted a figure running down the steps of the bridge just behind me.

It was a guy of about 60 years, a torn yellow shirt, grey shorts, very hairy legs, a beard that made him look a lot like Saruman the White. HE seemed to be in a hurry to catch the train I was in. But there was no way he’d make it all the way across the bridge and onto the platform. So he debated for half a second. I watched, mouth hanging open in awe, as this dude climbs onto the railing of his steps, gauges himself, and JUMPS onto the roof of the train! I hardly have time to mouth the words, “Sonnuva bitch!”

Before this guy takes three steps to climb onto a window, stretch his arms and one hairy leg over towards the door, of my compartment! Within roughly six seconds, the mutha is standing next to me with a toothy grin on his face. And by the way, the train had started moving at the point of impact of him onto the roof.

Now the guy behind me was the first to get back to his senses, and held onto the guy with affirm grip and he asked him.

“Oi! This is First Class!”

To which our geriatric friend replies,

“Chill out yaar! Pass hai!”

And he reaches behind his short jeans and produces a wallet. He opens it and shows us a cleaner photograph of him, with a First Class Railway Pass for this month. The guy let go of his arm. With a smile, a namaskaar, and nod, the bloke disappeared into the crowd behind me. I watched him go, still trying to fathom what had just happened. I laughed at it after a bit, and thanked my luck that I did in fact catch this train to be here to witness this incident!

Happy Holidays everybody!



where did everyboday go??? -roshnee

hEllO?

aNyBoDy hOmE?



ECHO!!! *echo* *echo* *echo*


boO!!! *boo* *boo* *boo*

Saturday, December 17, 2005

white rabbit

there are times when i m super practical and heartless...there are times when i make little or no sense with my perceptions on life or anything for that matter....there are also times when i do absolutely idiotic things which have little or no purpose and this is one of those times....thats right at this point i ve lost it......
i ve been listening to one song for over 2 hours now...my target was to listen to the song "white rabbit" by jefferson airplane 50 times as i write this i have heard the song 55 times and it is still playing on my i tunes....so your first question..1)why are you doing this and whats wrong with you.... im doing this because of my constant search for insanity the mystery of rock and roll and basically new ways to bombard my mental state in order to release the creative juices....in other words i wanna see how long before i snap amd generally experiment with my head....2)why this song and who or what is a jefferson airplane? jefferson airplane are an american rock and roll band of the early 60s even before the beatles et al...they were known for their use of lsd(acid) and they helped ignite rock and roll...white rabbit is a song of extreme magical power for reasons beyond our knowledge..some people think its just another arty trippy song....but others find the expereince incredible...they say the haunting tune and the climax of the song contribute to excite the mind the most espcially and best note for used of lsd(acid)...this song...simply put...is alice in wonderland on acid....yes on acid...thats why its so simple yet so very not...the use of this song in many places is extraordinary...if anyonw has read "fear and loathing in las vegas" or has seen the movie(with johnnie depp) will remember when the lawyer wants the radio(pugged in) to be thrown into the bath tub at the height of the song...hes on acid and has no sense of reality...nixon sings it in futurama that show you know...a bunch of college students made an effigy of a white rabbit(becuase of that rabbit in alice in wonderland) to burn they decided to play all the songs related to the rabbit.....astonishingly as and when this song was approaching the climax the rabbit was burning the most and almost completely burnt down by the time it was over....yes its is wierd but so is everything else....3)why again..because i have a lot of time on my hands...
there is soemthing wrong with me....i know it for sure....but its cool...i think this expereince has greatly benefitted me....i started out trying to make it through it....but i did a lot along the way....around 30 times down i couldnt think of much else except whne i was talking to ppl...so i kept talking to ppl....around 40 times down...the song was so present in my mind that i didnt know which point of the song iwas in many a time...the lyrics basically merged together at random points...i began singing random things...the imagery and the ghostly tinge in her voice made me mentally picturize the song a whole lot...
dude....i started imaginin the whole thing in my head...it was like one pill made me smaller and large like in the song...i just kept hering it again and again....it was soo trippy..a wierd kinda a high....i could see the hookah smoking caterpiller the best....i felt like i had some kind a mushroom and my mind felt kinda low....i think the human mind is a funny thing...you tell it what you thinkj you wanna experience and tell it to be unbiased...yet somehow it will do whatver you imagined it would do....man what hell it was sometimes i really wanted to shut the damn thing off but you know i hate to quit in the middle....so i went forward what else....i think the song expanded of experience of reality as i was living in the song but really was living in front of my comp(as usual)....the song is so incredibly mind numbingly plain when you first hear it...but when you understand what it means at all the different levels who knows hat you mightr see..my god i thought of some strange thing sto say..
but dude they make sense man...i thought up"there is a fine line between genius and madness and i walk on that line lie drunk"..i mean i couldnt think in anyhting except think in tangents for all of 2 and a hlaf hours..
really what was the best news was taht i found a quart of whisky in my cupboard...i already drank a 1/3 of it previously do while writing this and i have had the other 2/3(just now)...this is so psychedelic i mean i can understand and almost see what they say in this song...i love whisky....i love to merge lines...everythings all good...im a happy man..for many reasons...liverpoolfc is doing too welll going to win the cwc(club world championship) and drawing benfica in chmaps league....i think everyone should try soemthing abnormal to spice up life....
here are the lyrics to white rabbit if you care to listen:
One pill makes you larger And one pill makes you small And the ones that mother gives you Don't do anything at all Go ask Alice When she's ten feet tall And if you go chasing rabbits And you know you're going to fall Tell'em a hookah smoking caterpillar Has given you the call Call Alice When she was just small When men on the chessboard get up and tell you where to go And you've just had some kind of mushroom And your mind is moving low Go ask Alice I think she'll know When logic and proportion Have fallen softly dead And the White Knight is talking backwards And the Red Queen's off with her head Remember what the doormouse said:"Feed your Head Feed your Head!" (sorry its a bit cramped)

i fed my head....now im tired and out of whisky....really i am...i want to see what reponses i get for this....i wanna see if people will do this...cause it feels like a completely different feeling being in this state of mind....mind fucked,high and introspective...

to conlcude how i am right now...
And you've just had some kind of mushroom And your mind is moving low Go ask Alice I think she'll know When logic and proportion Have fallen softly dead(thats 75 times now i ve heard this song, oh well back to therapy)

siddhant

Wednesday, December 14, 2005

in front of the camera....its been so very long..

another strange day draws to a close....went to college...bunked a lot....went home...did nothing....went to bandra and chilled there...in the process of doing nothing...some weird thing happened...i was at just around the corner in bandra(jtc for short) sitting making a public nuisance of myself along with my friends arjun and jian,as usual....when i was approached by some random guy....and asked if would do a screen test for a commercial!!!! A TELEVISION COMMERCIAL AGAIN!!!my mind was repeating this again again....i had done a tv commercial for brand of breakfast cereal,which is synonymous with breakfast cereal(its hard to even type kellogs cornflakes!!! yuuucckkk!! i must have had at least three bowls of that crap at one sitting to get the "yummy mummy" expression on my face...thank god i was 9 and dont remember much else)...but its been years since then...i mean there too i was approached at a random shop with my mom and i got cast,i m no little boy anymore...so i said to myself all that self-gratifying egotistical jabber(for those of you who know me personally you will know what i mean) and the ridiculous vanity have somehow reached other people....lets indulge him...ok what time and where...and what the fuck am i advertising for....he said...well im making an ad for..ahh just listen to it...a thin(check) tall(check) young(relatively,check) boy(check) walks down a dark alley...only to be confronted from the otherside by a bunch of tough brusiers(or in his own racist terms...the nigger looking guys!!)...walk solemnly with head down...but upon passing them...he brushes by them...and they suddenly fall down as though hit by some terrific force....the lad acts scared and walks away..."Ambuja Cement" written across his t-shirt....i was thinking...how much money can i possibly squeeze out of a useless nights work....i mean this ad has to suck...except its another massive ego boost...i mean its not everyday that 3 massively built guys are knocked down by lil' ol' me on national tv!!! so naturally i was in...i went for my screen test at a nearby location(somewhere on linking road, near nagani's)...i spent the rest of the day playing burnout 3 takedown and fifa 05(because my friends 06 on ps was not loading) on ps2...and fifa 06 on a laptop....yup fun times....unfortunately i was not selected(damn there goes a tidy sum of money!!)...ahh easy come easy go...

siddhant(autographs tomorrow at 12)

Tuesday, December 13, 2005

FYBMM Spitfires Vs TYBSc Churans - Match Report

...And so it was that the 13th of December, 2005 rolled around, and as ever, people went about their lives in a normal way. No one listened to Ananya Samajdar, Mini-G cracked open her tiffin box at the start of the day and Vicky didn't bother to turn up to college. Same ol' same ol'. The only difference was that today was the day that would see the culmination of all the practice sessions, teamtalks and random illustrations on the blackboard (that were supposed to depict a cricket field). That's right, twas the day of our first match in the Inter-Class Cricket Tournament. As expected, we'd been drawn up against possibly the toughest team in the tournament, the defiending champions, the TYBSc 'A' Team.

11.00am
The atmosphere in the Spitfire camp was abuzz with general excitement as theories concerning batting orders, field positions and team composition did their rounds. Of course, I missed all of this, as I had to run to Jai Hind College for the lousy debate. After receiving one last volley of disappointed glares from Jayesh, I made my way to the aforementioned haven of Sindhi-ness.

TIME LAPSE

1.45pm
I leave Jai Hind College with clouds of dust in my wake, as I attempt to get to Wilson College Gymkhana as quickly as humanly possible. Thoughts of being forced to watch from the sidelines enter my mind and i shrug them off as I reach the venue. The first sight I happen to catch a glimpse of, upon my arrival, is that of Shahvan ballz-ing up a piece of fielding behind the stumps. I don't get to ruminate on that for long, as I am informed by a calm, composed and very relaxed Mathew and a distraught, confused and hyperactive Jayesh that I am to hurry up and change and get on the field. That brings to a close Mathew's day on the field, as I see myself supersubbed on for him. The first few overs see the batsman ticking the scoreboard along at far too healthy a runrate for my liking. There's also instances of brilliant stupidity, such as Gurudutta's 12 ball over, Jayesh's 7 ball over, Rites Bhai hollering "LAND IT!!! LAND IT!!" for some reason, during Darius' over and of course, the unforgettable and often repeated sight of Shahvan missing the ball completely and it striking him on his face or chest. Ah yes and before I forget, there was also the absolute moron of an umpire (red shirt guy), who had the audacity to stand around absently, with a vacant look on his face, listening to the radio on his mobile throughout the match. When confronted (REPEATEDLY), he claimed that it was only on in one ear. That would explain some of the shocking decisions in the match... Sour grapes, but still....
And then, the masterstroke, Dhruva was called in to replace Shahvan behind the stumps and the extras seemed to dry up, big time. Maybe, just maybe we could keep them under 200. Sahirr was brought on to slow down the pace of the ball, while simultaneously being required to speed up the pace of the game. Paradoxical, non? After all, we were in danger of being screwed over for slow over-rate. Sahirr came on and picked up a couple of quick wickets, including a fine catch off his own bowling. Eventually, Sahirr, in tandem with some horribly flighted and very makeshift spin from yours truly, saw us manage to finish all our overs, with the opposition racking up an imposing 216 runs. The total was humongous, no doubt about it, but we'd given it our best shot and shown some impressive commitment in the field. Putting our bodies in harm's way to stop runs, LITERALLY, in my case (last ball, ass-first fielding action).

3:39pm
It is now time for us to take to the pitch and try to get somewhere near this ridiculous total. Not to worry though, the boundaries are short and once you get some bat behind the ball-.... SWISH!!! The ball flies through at express pace. Not even through the first over yet and the bowlers have the measure of our boys. Darius and Dhruva poke around for a bit in the sweltering heat against some searing pace, before the former was sawed off big time, by a shocker of a decision. The moronic radio-listening umpire signalled for Darius to leave the field after being 'dismissed' LBW. Stomping back to the pavilion, he seemed oblivious to the huge cheers that went up when Jayesh sauntered out to the field. Captains get louder cheers, it's a fact. Long story short, Dhruva and Jayesh fell victim to some demonic fast bowling. Their stumps were left truly shattered, even knocked right over as in Dhruva's case. Then Rites Bhai lent some comedy to the proceedings, getting stumped whilst completely out of the loop of what was going on around him. One of those 'be there' moments, to be sure. As was Reinhardt's self-assured walk straight into a pillar. The sound of the brim of his cap cracking against the pillar was hilarious. Why he did such a thing, we may never know. This passage of play also saw Jayesh leading a few other wronged members of our team to the middle to ask for the umpire to hand over his radio, so they could listen to some Ind-SL match commentary. I'm pretty sure the ump didn't see that coming. Hehehehe. If only, he'd actually handed it over. Needless to say, the ICC saw fit to hand Jayesh and the rest 75% Match Fee fines for Disrespecting the Umpire's Authority and Birthright to listen to the radio whilst umpiring (Section 13.1). Meanwhile, Rites Bhai had another 'moment', as he yelled to the batsmen, "STAY IN THE KEYS!!". It must be stated, the boy certainly has some odd phrases of encouragement to offer. Sahirr strolled in next and knocked the ball around for a bit before being dismissed. Then began the renaissance... As Sahirr returned to the pavilion, the throngs of Spitfire supporters cheered raucously for him. What started as fairly ironic cheers degenerated into unabashed hollerings. That inspired the brilliant little cameo from Reinhardt, which was appreciated by all. Kalari swaggered in next and began confidently. Over the course of his innings, he played some swashbuckling shots, much to the appreciation of all present. As with Reinhardt, every stroke played was cheered raucously by the spectators. Until of course, Reinhardt was dismissed. In walked Gurudutta and very shortly, out walked Gurudutta. Just another victim of some foolish umpiring. Wronged as he was, he felt the need to shout at the umpire and the fielders. His actions saw him slapped with a 50% Match Fee fine from the ICC for questioning the umpire's dopey judgement (section 3.16). The stage was now well and truly set at 50 odd for 7, for yours truly to play a glitzy little knock, ornate with car-smashing sixes and breathtaking fours. I could go on and on about my moment in the Sun, but in the interest of time, I shall refrain from doing so. Kalari's unfortunate end saw Shahvan strutting up to the middle and playing some unorthodox, yet effective strokes. The untimely end to my innings, one that could have gone on and on like the Energizer bunny, brought Vinny to the crease. And so it was that it was left to Vinny and Shahvan to see the match through to its logical conclusion. The very real threat of possible humiliation brought out the icy cool nerveless batsmen in these two mavericks. With edges and streaky swats galore, they carried the score to 101. Shahvan's reeling offstump signalled the end of the match, with Vinny unbeaten on 0. The planned lap of honour to celebrate a match well fought was cancelled in favour of a quick trip to Cafe Ideal.

Much thanks to the Spitfire support crew for keeping our morale high.


Awards
Man of the Match: Rites Bhai for his 3 moments of unfettered foolishness
Lemon of the Match: Shahvan for his sieve-like hands
Quote of the Match: "Land it! LAND IT!", second award for Rites Bhai
Churan of the Match: Red Shirted Umpire
Waste of Space of the Match: Siddhant (not our Silver Surfer, I'm talking about the big lad) for his unhelpful 'coachings' and 'remarks' through the match
Pervert of the Match: Vinny, for his voyeuristic Darius-filming ways
Muppet of the Match: Roop, for his failure to add up our batting scores

Until our whites are next taken out and aired, remember
"They may take our lives, But they'll NEVER take our cockiness!!"

Karan

Of Spunk, Spirit and Steely Will

To all the guys who battled it out on the field today....

You guys showed some splendid spunk, irrespressible spirit and some steely determination. In my opinion, you were a brilliant team, considering the fact that there never was an eleven-man practise session at all. None of you were familiar with the ways of each of your team-mates.You played a more experienced team, lost, and still, when the odd assortment that was [our] team, walked back to the 'pavillion', i couldn't help but feel a surge of pride and a strange sense of satisfaction that i was from the FYBMM class.
Whether it came to cheering, moaning, groaning or sledging unanimously, i enjoyed every moment of the match. You guys gave it your best, and if i was the opposition, i'd be honoured to play against you bunch. We didnt let them win easy, we played as a team, we put up a fight. And that is what really matters.

You may have lost the match, but you're still in the game, because you guys showed some real spirit today. And you're all winners in my book.

I'm already looking forward to next year.

Ri

Monday, December 12, 2005

Taking Guard

Right, so this is it.
I know that most of you might not be able to read this space. But this is a little message that I'd like to give to anyone out there who might be listening.

The day that we have waited upon with a great deal of apprehension and anticipation is finally upon us. I’m not going to lie to you. It has not been easy. People have been dropping in and out of our "team" like the Americans drop bombs and warheads. At the end of all of that, we are still good one or two players short, and our team still looks very scratchy. Having had hardly any practice over the last few days (nay, weeks) on an already suspect "wicket" with hardly any protection on has of course worked against us. We have never had a full unit playing a practice session at any point of time. We're still short of a good few batsmen. But enough whining. We’re as ready as we could have been under the circumstances.

There arrives a point of time when one has to look at a situation from all angles. I have been known as a very pessimistic negative person who doesn’t really kick back and relax often enough. That's a fair enough judgement call I'd say. I've probably been taking this whole thing a whole lot more seriously than the rest of you guys. For that, I apologize. Maybe at some point of time, I lost control completely, and I went full on into it, forgetting all my responsibilities towards the people that mattered and the projects that piled up around me. I am guilty of that, I know. But I need to explain what it is that's going through me. This...itch that I need to scratch that's turned up between my shoulder blades, the spot where I just can't reach.
This game has gone past the sport of cricket. It’s no longer about winning or losing, about recognition, about winning glory. It’s not about you,
or me, the eleven other total strangers that we shall meet up tomorrow afternoon. It’s about life. My Life for the most part but also about other’s who may share the same belief system that empowers me. I’ve always been a strong believer of the fact that things happen to people for a reason. Call it fate, karma, or anything else; I think that things happen to people because those things are meant to happen to those people. We were meant to come together as a hapless band of no talent poseurs as the FY BMM. We’ve had bad luck going our way from the day we’ve started because we’ve meant to. Win or lose whatever the result tomorrow might hold for us, I say it’s supposed to happen. And I shall be the first one to acknowledge that.

But that is no reason to lie down and wait for things to happen. No reasons why we can’t take our lives into our own hands and play dice with it. Einstein once said that God plays dice with the Universe, and we just make up a few rolls on the entire board. No reason we can’t. In the eloquent words of The Punisher comic books, “God’s going to sit this one out!”

When we take the field, or the crease, whatever the toss might hold for us tomorrow, I don’t expect you guys or me to be splendidly good, or to blast away those TY guys. I don’t expect miracles from you. Miracles are an act of God, and belong in feel good Uncle Sam Hollywood movies…and we’re naught but humble humans out there. But what I do expect is that each and every one of you goes out there and gives your heart into it. Give it all you’ve got fellas, and that’s more than enough for me. Coz then like I’ve probably mentioned, we’ve already won.

Now I could sit here typing away to all glory about some philosophical and feel good shit that a coach or a captain might tell his troops. But you know as well as I do that wouldn’t be our style. I’ll leave that to the masters down below…

I will tell you this much though…that if you put forward the effort and hold your end up, then we can withstand anything those pussies might throw at us. We’re BMM after all, thinking out of the box and all that. We’ll play by untouchable rules. They take a knife, we get a gun. They send one of ours to the hospital; we send one of them to the morgue!

True as it is in my nature, I leave you all with some of the more memorable quotes from some feel good sports movies! Enjoy them. And feel the emotions.

Gentlemen cues in Triple H music

“It’s time to play the game…”

“This is where they fought the battle of Gettysburg. Fifty thousand men died right here on this field, fighting the same fight that we are still fighting among ourselves today. This green field right here, painted red, bubbling' with the blood of young boys. Smoke and hot lead pouring right through their bodies. Listen to their souls, men. I killed my brother with malice in my heart. Hatred destroyed my family. You listen, and you take a lesson from the dead. If we don't come together right now on this hallowed ground, we too will be destroyed, just like they were. I don't care if you like each other of not, but you will respect each other. And maybe... I don't know, maybe we'll learn to play this game like men.”

Denzel Washington: Remember the Titans

When the Washington Sentinels left the stadium that date, there was no tickertape parade, no endorsement deals for sneakers or soda pop, or breakfast cereal. Just a locker to be cleaned out, and a ride home to catch. But what they didn't know was that their lives had been changed forever because they had been part of something great. And greatness, no matter how brief stays with a man. Every athlete dreams of a second chance, these men lived it.

Gene Hackman: The Replacements

You find out life's this game of inches, so is football (think cricket guys - Darius). Because in either game - life or football - the margin for error is so small. I mean, one half a step too late or too early and you don't quite make it. One half second too slow, too fast and you don't quite catch it. The inches we need are everywhere around us. They're in every break of the game, every minute, every second. On this team we fight for that inch. On this team we tear ourselves and everyone else around us to pieces for that inch. We claw with our fingernails for that inch. Because we know when add up all those inches, that's gonna make the fucking difference between winning and losing! Between living and dying! I'll tell you this, in any fight it's the guy whose willing to die whose gonna win that inch. And I know, if I'm gonna have any life any more it's because I'm still willing to fight and die for that inch, because that's what living is, the six inches in front of your face. Now I can't make you do it. You've got to look at the guy next to you, look into his eyes. Now I think ya going to see a guy who will go that inch with you. Your gonna see a guy who will sacrifice himself for this team, because he knows when it comes down to it your gonna do the same for him. That's team gentlemen and either, we heal as a team, or we will die as individuals. That’s football guys, that's all it is. Now what are you going to do?

Al Pacino – Any Given Sunday


And my personal favourite…

“Kickassh!”

Eric Cartman – Southpark

-Darius Mistry

Decisions decisions...

So.. What's it gonna be? The Great Jai Hind Debate or the Great TYBSc Mauling?
While fate plays its cards, casts its die, picks the winning horse for me and surrounds me with random confusion, lets take a moment to reflect on one of the more unpleasant things in life...
This....

Karan

chronicles of the rabid yogi-who will answer?

tired from the hard walk under the trying sun the rabid yogi went inside a cave which was on the way
and sat , it was pretty dark but cool . He looked around but there was no one ,yet he knew that he was
never alone.

the rabid yogi as always cried there, he moaned ,he wailed , for he never understood the ways of man.

than he sat properly, washed his face with the water he had , and started writing....

as tough the day can be , as mindless it has been
this is what i hear

From the canyons of the mind,
We wander on and stumble blindly
Through the often-tangled maze
Of starless nights and sunless days,
While casting for some kind of clue
Or road to lead us to the truth,
But who will answer?

Side by side two people stand,
Together vowing, hand-in-hand
That love's imbedded in their hearts,
But soon an empty feeling starts
To overwhelm their hollow lives,
And when we seek the hows and whys,
Who will answer?

High upon a lonely ledge,
a figure teeters near the edge,
And jeering crowds collect below
To egg him on with, "Go, man, go!"
And who will ask what led him
To his private day of doom,
And who will answer?

On a strange and distant hill,
A young man's lying very still.
His arms will never hold his child,
Because a bullet running wild
Has cut him down. And now we cry,
"Dear God, Oh, why, oh, why?"
And who will answer?


If the soul is darkened by a fear it cannot name,
If the mind is baffled when the rules don't fit the game,
Who will answer? Who will answer? Who will answer?

In the rooms of dark and shades,
The scent of sandalwood pervades.
The colored thoughts in muddled heads
Reclining in rumpled beds
Of unmade dreams that can't come true,
And when we ask what we should do,
Who? Who will answer?

'Neath the spreading mushroom tree,
The world revolves in apathy
As overhead, a row of specks
Roars on, drowned out by discotheques,
And if a secret button's pressed
Because one man has been outguessed,
Who will answer?

Is our hope in walnut shells
Worn 'round the neck with temple bells,
Or deep within some cloistered walls
Where hooded figures pray in halls?
Or crumbled books on dusty shelves,
Or in our stars, or in ourselves,
Who will answer?

If the soul is darkened
By a fear it cannot name,
If the mind is baffled
When the rules don't fit the game,
Who will answer? Who will answer? Who will answer?

( as gloomy and fantastic the song may seem
this is what i heard the fiddler sing
in vain, in vain is everything
at the vanity fair.....)

with this the rabid yogi closed his old tattered, tear stained book and started walking again
under the trying sun....

early resolution...-RoShNeE

hey as new years is fast approching.. (hopefully will be heading for goa this year round..) i've decided to make an early resolution....to blog more..well actually to start blogging..heehe..tho its kinda difficult wen u start off u know.. u donno wat to write or where to start from..
u kinda start deciding whether u wanna be the person who comments on people for example.. mr. sid menon and mr.half-a-peanut-brain-gay-fucko-lost-his-mojo spammer man... then there are philosophical ramblers like mr rabid yogi bear and sahirr(aka uncle man from punjab land) and sometimes pinky sid...then come people like karan, riya,shavan in the more serious and addressing-all-ppl-mode.. and mini g with her poems..and last but not the least.. tanniee and radius in the annonymous+comic relief category...

so here i am.. doing what a libran does best.. getting down right confused...
wat do u think peeps? any category having a void which i cud fill in?or cud u en'lighten' me with some new genre of blogism?!

ps. no pouncing suing choking shall be done if u think i have put u in the worng category. the categorisation has been subject to severe generalisation.

Sunday, December 11, 2005

The All New Bajaj Excalibur DTS-i

ok so im back.
and this time, I HAVE SOMETHING REAL TO BLOG ABOUT!

im sure no one has missed the stupid Bajaj Excalibur DTS-i ad...
well if u havent seen it yet, u must know that ur gonna hate it... and if ur a harry potter fan, ur gonna hate it some more.

dumb dumb dumb!!!
so fuckall!!!
some dumb Harry potter look alike indian kid made t0 wear round specks and ride a broom stick *rolling eyes* racing with this hunky dude(who is different frm the one in the previous ads but looks exactly like the previous one and the one prior to that and the one before that and even the guy in the ad before that...n im not to sure but mayb even the guy before that..) *ahem* right.. anyway... riding the all new bajaj excalibur dts-i.
so hes racing, with the harry potter kid.. while the highlights about the bike *appear* on the bottom left in harry potter-ish handwriting.

As they race, over the hills and mountains, harry needs to refill his broom with petrol so he stops at the petrol pump while biker dude just rides on with a smirk on his face cuz he has "extra milege".

and now the hero-giri... an approaching tunnel, a distracted indian harry potter, a biker hero who can jump from the bike to more than 6 feet in height while the bike is still in motion, a crushed broom and a saved harry potter who im guessing will grow up to ride the all new bajaj excalibur dts-i....

moral of the story :
the all new bajaj excalibur dts-i can totally take harry potter and his broom..
so then next time u wanna travel, u shud go in for the all new bajaj excalibur dts-i rather than the broom............

MY moral of the story :
erm, sure that too.... *click*

tanvi !!!!

Friday, December 09, 2005

random...the life the universe and everything

randomity strikes....
im supposed to be finishing my marketing projecting but im an idiot wasting time and money in a cyber cafe......its ok its always worth it....
difficulty is a usual side-effect to life....you take a lot of life....you get a lot of difficulty....it says that in the bottle.....so live....in pain in suffering......at times of despair which seem to always be there when you just pull yourself out of something.....
thats ok....the rewards are greater.....life has another side-effect.....happiness.....the roller-coaster ride rarely ends....but when your down and you suddenly go up,even momentarily. theres nothing like it.....there never will be.....no drug no alcohol can ever produce the same joy.....life is all bleh and blah, with a lot of wooo-hooo in the middle....
in the end the search leads to greater things and greener pastures.....relationships and experiences....mistakes and questions...sheer ambiguity makes up for familiarity....i just felt like saying that cause it sounded cool :D ..... but really when you fight with someone and make-up for it, at no time does your relationship feel stronger, let it be anyone, friend family member or anyone else....when your back on track after the low you ve just hit nothing fills you more than a surge of pride for enduring your difficulty....never do feel you feel more alive,stronger or greater....
many times ive tried to see how life feels... make it tangible....make it real enoguh to touch...experience it just right.....its not my never-ending focus its not an impossible dream....its just another person doing more than just breathing......i m so pleased that im so young still and that there are many more ups and downs left....so much to create and so much to destroy.....
in short, there is so much to be human for, so little time......i know at the end of the day, i may not have climbed the highest mountain or had the skill to write a masterpiece(hopefully i will)...but i know i would have been disappointed and overjoyed with every turn in the path of my meagre little hill, i would know every little stone i passed along the way....i know that i would love the little short story that i wrote even if the whole world hated it....because every word would posses something of value that can never be ascertained by anyone else.....so many questions are to be asked and i will keep asking more...difficulty is merely a part of me, as is happiness and life as a whole should embody me.....its all well and good to claim you live life to the fullest....
but that means vey little...as life had no limit and fills you......how much can you possibly live life....life lives you.....

siddhant(i was bored now back to marketing)

Wednesday, December 07, 2005

Gentlemen, locate your whites....

As we stand on the cusp of what promises to be either a brutal maiming (in terms of grievous bodily harm or just the crippling of our collective ego) or an unexpectedly fortunate day in the sun for the BMM boys, I thought I'd take the time to look at what we've 'achieved' thus far. Or failing that, just a little recap of the events that transpired, leading up to today's final practice before the draws are made (where incidentally, I suspect that bastard Raakhe's gonna make us face-off against the toughest team in the competition. BASTARD!!).

Back to the day that the team was made, and Jayesh's exhuberance. The delight on his face at being nominated for captaincy and the enthusiasm with which he was planning practice sessions, batting, bowling and catching routines etc. etc. A stunning contrast to the withered and world-weary expression that adorns his face everytime the word 'practice' is mentioned. (I'm not lying!!) People were falling over each other (or such was my understanding of the situation) to get their name on the squadsheet. O, to be one of those fifteen shortlisted people! Anyway, the first practice session was scheduled for the very first day and about 12 or 13 intrepids ventured to Chowpatty, including Joslin Harris, braving torn knee ligaments, but still strutting his stuff. The Wilson College Gymkhana was taken over by some wedding. So Chowpatty was the venue. And at first, it was good. Short range catches, long range catches, people cheering each other on for every effort-... and that's when things got out of control. RELAY RACES?!?! You must be joking!!! With bruised fingers and swollen thumbs, an ice-pack would have been way more welcome. But, you can't get everything you want. So we went along with it..VERY SLOWLY.

The second practice was actually held at the College Gymkhana on a true pitch, it has to be said. It must be added that this was the only time we got to play on a pitch that was ACTUALLY intended for the sport of cricket and not the minefield we tackle these days. But that's a different story. Dhruva, Jayesh, Darius and Ritesh (in no particular order) showed off their batting prowess, while the rest of us (significantly fewer in number to the previous day) toiled manfully with the ball. "Line and Length!!" Special mention must go out to that wastrel Mathew and his 'sitting-around-holding-his-allegedly-injured-hand' antics and play-by-play commentary.

The next time I turned up to practice, we'd been relegated to a little patch in front of the Gymkhana, the aforementioned MINEFIELD! On first viewing, it looks decent enough. One or two stones here and there, a couple of divets sprinkled all over and a wee bit of undulation. Insignificant in terms of playing any noticeable role in affecting the trajectory or bounce of the ball. Right? Tell that to Sahirr. The Justin Langer, Hasan Raza or Lanka DeSilva of our team has taken his fair shar-... in fact, MORE than his fair share of blows, bumps and bruises. I suppose Shahvan could be added to that list. Not to forget, Darius' debut onto that list today. This minefield is a horrendous place to play any form of cricket. Firstly, the setting sun glares straight into the hapless batsman's eyes. Plus, the sheer volume of people on that field, whistling and screaming, "ball ball ball" is seriously unnerving. Finally, and most pertinently, the bounce there is scary, make no mistake about it. The ball will either scuttle through at ankle height or spring up monstrously and fly past the ears. Vivek, being a keen exploiter of the latter quality of this pitch, has a few tales to tell about this phenomenon, I'm sure.

I was fortunate enough to survive the horrors of batting there today. Saved by the guy watering the field, who politely informed us that we were to fuck off from there. A curtailed practice session later, it dawned on us that it was probably the last rehearsal. And all through this, there's hardly any sign of our Ranji Trophy-playing specimen.

All said and done, we're not quite the Lagaan team, as previously hoped. At least, they had some semblance of a balance. We appear to have nothing but bowlers in our team; a fact made worse by the fact that burly pinch-hitter extraordinaire, Vikram Shah has been sidelined with exam-related unavailability and the double-whammy provided by Hakimuddin Liliyawala's overall indifference and apathy to the cause. I bet he could smash some quickfire runs on demand. Oh well! With the match-ups to be drawn on Friday and Sports Day tomorrow, the next time we take the field will, in all probability, be on D-day. Here's hoping that the ENTIRE team turns up then, bumps, bruises and all.

Oh!! I almost forgot. Special steps will have to be taken to ensure that as much time as is humanly possible, is spent in Roop's slanderous and verbally abusive company. Sledging will prove to be the clincher in this tournament and we'll need all the help we can get. Hehehe...


Karan Pradhan
President,
Andre Nel Fan Club for People with Nothing Better to do.

Tuesday, December 06, 2005

COLOR ME HAPPY!!!

Quite often colors appeal to us and initiate a thinking process. Currently I am suffering from sinus... and as I try and blow out...my head swirls and things become dark... I can see colors floating around randomly as my vision clears again. Why it happens I can’t understand...but somehow I enjoy the feeling. Its just like the after-effect of staring at the sun or any bright source of light. But to squander my temporary high, come the colorful medicines... they are pink, yellow and off-white in color and I shudder each time I see, or swallow them.
It is said colors also evoke different emotions in a human being... and also the color preferences a person makes reflect his/her personalities. If we think on similar lines... one would also say wearing certain colors on particular days may prove lucky for some... colored gemstones are also used as good luck charms... according to feung - shui the color of the interior and exterior walls of a persons house may affect ones life significantly... Blah... Blah... I can go on... but how much of it is truth or superstition I know not...

We all love colors... and they are even deciding factors in various things we do... like purchasing or even liking/disliking a person (it may sound racist...but its true). The colors of packages of a product really matter... for example... Orange is now Hutch... whose brand color is a dull...gloomy...sad pink! it sure is gonna turn people off!!! I could sense the discomfort and irritation in our class when someone had changed the font color of our blog... to BRIGHT PINK...YUUCCKK...!!!

And somehow...suddenly blue has come to my mind... and then comes swirling in to my head... the swelling on Shavan’s calf muscles... Whoo... that is some injury!!! it sure might have hurt him... luckily (touchwood!!!) I have been spared of the blues myself... though Darius, Vivek and Karan have been trying hard on the field...

Bazaar Day is nearing... and we are having an Arabian theme... too many colors again... Then the inter-class cricket matches, and we will see...eleven men in white on the field... I am curious why exactly do cricketers wear white on the field... probably good visibility of the ball... peaceful-fair proceedings...maybe because its a gentleman’s game...or hey , it could be a tradition!!!

God knows what colorful expressions our faces will hold on the day our results are going to be out... haha!

Sahirr...

die hutch die

anger.....much anger....again......now its a small thing that niggles me...first the infernal machine is still down....i ve been running around like a fool and it seems to working finally i should be back to normal computer running soon....but till then im still out...yes back at the cyber cafe....but what troubles me now is another small thing that suddenly makes all the difference.....orange is dead, hutch is here!!! for all those of you who know not what i say, Orange my beloved G.S.M network has now passed away and Hutch had taken its name...it was sooo cool....all the hutch ads would roll on t.v and it would be like "hutch this and hutch that" but at the bottom in small print it would always say "Orange in Mumbai"...it would be really great that bombay had something the rest of the country never had!!! i mean in the end it was owned by hutchison essar that called itself hutch in all of india except bombay where it was Orange.....the past week has been particularly depressing as all the hoardings over the bus stops had the trade-mark black background with white writing in the middle saying "bye" orange will now become hutch....i would see it everywhere and whine and rant about to my friends (well mainly just darius and shahvan))...it may seem silly to get pissed off that your gsm operator has changed its name...but i mean i really loved the orange logo....black background with the orange sqaure and "orange" written in white.....it said sophisticated,classy, minimal and really really assured and cool.....which brings me to why i hate hutch....i mean what the fuck is a "hutch"? it sounds like a piece of farm equipment....thats still ok i mean, it was much worse when i realized that hutchison essar are getting rid of orange because they wanted to change the logo!! i mean hutch used to be the lame 3 star things in the same orange and black "orange" had.... but no...they wanted blue but wait hold your breath......PINK!!! HOT PINK!!! dont get me wrong i dont hate pink at all... but when its all blue and pink how can you like it!!! i mean yes it makes sense to get rid of the word orange now as there is no orange in the logo but really was it worth it!!! i hate it now and wanna switch over bpl or airtel asap.....the worst of all those scum have put the dog next to the logo...yes all the fucking depressing hoardings of my friend orange bidding me adieu are replaced by the new "hutch is here" with THAT dog!!! they re taunting me.....the bastards are taunting me.....they is like "ahahah siddhant you cant hate us now if you hate the dog the whole world likes evryone will think your a freak!!!" they hide behind the damn dog!!! why the fuck did they make him so cute!!! so cute that it would be hell if i hated the dog and the "new" hutch......the evil bastards at hutchison essar are grinning now.....but i ll have the last laugh...at least on my phone it still says orange....i can sleep at night now......but only for now!!!!

siddhant (return of this jedi)

Monday, December 05, 2005

love-hate relationships

ever hate a song soo much, that you end up liking it.
ever love a song soo much, that you end up hating it.

ever love a chick/guy soo much, that you end up hating her/him.
ever hate a chick/guy soo much, that you end up loving her/him.

was jus thinkin about this shit today thought id put it up....see if u can come up wid some more....
it actually happens sometimes. Think about it

-after a long time shahvan


How often do we sit and talk to ourselves? How often do we question ourselves about what is happening around us and what we are making out of it? I am sure we confide to ourselves... there is a bottomless pit of feelings, expressions, secrets, thoughts, dreams, emotions, ideas, etc. within us all. We keep checking in and out of this pit... we may return out of it... happy or quite often sad... Today i returned back... confused...

Over a period of time i am experiencing certain transitions around myself... or is it me who is changing. How have i changed... i don’t know. But all i know is... i am making a beginning!!! And these changes are by choice... infact they aren’t for gaining acceptance... or venting out internal feelings... i kinna feel more like myself everyday...I may sound kiddish, wannabeish idiotic, stupid, philosophical, etc... and even if i say your feeliongs won’t bother me... i will be wrong... ‘cus in a way they do... everyone is affected by people’s opinons...we may say we are not... but each time we say that we are not affected...infact we recall those opinions in our minds...

I have learnt over a period of time... i have a knack in pissing people off and winning more enemies than friends... People think whatever you may choose to. Because i cant stop you... no one can kill the thoughts springing in your mind. Its a free world after all. All i would want to say to you people is ... if you have a problem with me... tell me...clear it out... be frank and open... I have had enough of hearing things which go around ... behind my back... And please be honest... i know you would have read this... might be... you smirk...laugh it off... get disgusted... bitch around... or whatever... but... Be honest and talk back...
Sahirr

Sunday, December 04, 2005

chronicles of the rabid yogi-questions and truth

this are grave times,
i can see the tinkle of uncertainty here

during this time of uncertainty
her words has given immense hope
like a heorine she has rose in this day which seems so night.
true are her words
indeed question, question!!

for the true worth of gold is revealed
when it is tested, tested with fire.

but I tell you dont simply question and wait ,but seek.
let me tell you
the system is a host of the hypocrites,
and the world the host of the liars.
so wait not ,for sooner or later you will be in a state of illusions ,
a state of emptiness
running out of hope, running out of meaning,
running out of rope to hold on..

just as a vehicle needs fuel to keep on running,
in the same way man needs truth to live on, otherwise he will automatically
switch himself off

"SEEK THE TRUTH AND THE TRUTH SHALL SET YOU FREE"

how will you win if you fight from the enemies territory

"the truth is not "me" and "my belief" for hasn't it been foolish and wrong enough".

do test the truths in the market to find if its indeed true.

THUS THE BOTTOM LINE IS-"EITHER LIVE A LIFE OF SLAVERY,LICKING THE BOOTS OF HYPOCRITES
OR
SEEK THE TRUTH THAT WILL DRIVE YOU TRUE,
OTHERWISE
YOU WILL BE LOST AND BITTER AT THE END FOR LIVING A MEANINGLESS LIFE"

thus unable to finish what you started for.


i wish that this helped you more than just provoking your thoughts
i wish this simply helped you to either say yes or no.
either to accept it or to call all this thrash.


note- this is an off the diary record found inside one of the ancient caves found on the "way".

Who's System? Not Mine.

Sometimes the system is hard to beat.
They’ll tell you to bow down, to grovel at their feet.
They’ve put themselves on a pedestal,
And they won’t have peace, won’t rest till-
They’ve sucked out all individuality, all creativity and freedom of expression,
All capability of thinking, of making your own decisions.
And the multitude is suppressed, the majority is beat,
For what can they do, when they’re staring at defeat?
They’ve accepted the rules, the laws and the chains,
And in the very end, even hope doesn’t remain.


Till one glorious day, one man dares to raise his head,
“Why should I bow to a force that’s been bred-
From feeding on my dreams, my happiness, my needs,
Like just another dying leaf, in a garden full of weeds?
Who are you to tell me, that I’m living my life wrong?
Why should I be like them- the masses, the throngs?
My life is mine to live, my views my own to give,
I’ll stand up for myself, I will start to live,
On my own terms, on my own two feet,
And I’ll show people to stand up for everything in which they believe.


The system didn’t accept him, they didn’t like his spunk,
And maybe secretly they were afraid, even envious of all his pluck.
His fortitude scared them, and his popularity made them sick,
And no matter what they did, he remained undaunted, a wall of brick.


This continued for eons, the system did all the harm they could,
Till one day the man realized, that his heroics weren’t doing him any good.
All at once he felt the system, bearing down on him,
And as the walls closed in, his demeanor turned grim,
“How much longer will it take for them to see-
that they are wrong to interfere,
To demand compliance, obedience, ignorance and fear.
And why do people follow, what they do not even believe?
Why do they never question, demand, why are they so naïve?”


And slowly, a small loyal group of followers, raised their heads to him,
And they shouted in unison, their eyes all filled to the brim,
“But what will become of us, if you choose to give up now?
Where will we go? Will we ever succeed? How?”
The man raised his head, slowly, for his heart was in a state of turmoil,
For this wasn’t what he had envisioned after so much toil.
“I’m not sure yet, if I will give up.
The system has taken its toll on me, and the going is getting tough.
But if I have to leave you, all I can pray for-
Is that you have all learnt what I have tried so hard to teach.
That wherever you go, you will stand on your own two feet.
You will question and not blindly accept or submit,
To anyone else’s whim, or fancy, or will.
You will reach within yourselves and find the strength to be,
Beautiful, honest, and caring human beings.”


And the small band of followers, suddenly smiled with glee,
For they realized that though his presence was uncertain, he would always be
The one person they emulated, and looked to for inspiration,
His ideals and his motivation were forever theirs to keep.
And so they made a resolution, to fight the wretched system,
To carry out their dissent against it, using every tool with them.
And they knew that though he wasn’t in their midst anymore,
The man was content in his satisfaction that his followers were no longer subject
To the system, for he had empowered them, and everywhere they went,
Each was the master of his own destiny.


Riya

Darius Mistry's VERY Proud Discovery of The Day!!

This is post number ONE HUNDRED for The Wilsonite!

May there be a whole lot more!

Kudos to you all, that have written here. Special thanks to Tanvi and Co. for thinking of this whole thing in the first place. Its certainly helped fuel the literary passions of many individuals of our class. And it's become quite the talking point in the shortest amount of time.

Keep writing, young Padawan learners!

Saturday, December 03, 2005

Stark Raving Furious - Volume II

Welcome to the Second Edition of Stark Raving Furious.

Michael Moore, in the prologue to his 'Stupid White Men' book wrote about how his book was in danger of being pulped. Being released so soon after 9/11, Harper Collins (or Reagen Collins, I forget which) told him that it was 'un-American' to release a book that was so full of questions addressed to the people who run the U.S.A. Questions relating to 'How?' and 'Why?' 9/11 happened. Questions that set out to put into perspective a lot of the crime rates, illiteracy rates and general underachievements of the United States. The point is, the book was being opposed due to its dissent aimed squarely at the actions of George W. Bush and his cronies. It took a bunch of timid librarians - who had the opportunity to hear Michael Moore read a passage from his soon-to-be-pulped book - to stand up to Harper Collins and bomb them with letters expressing dissatisfaction at their proposed actions and to ensure that the book saw the light of day. Librarians!

Arriving at my ACTUAL point, those who were present in class today were privy to what I'm on about. For those who weren't, long story short, Sudhakar isn't best pleased with the ideologies (or lack thereof) that the college has adopted over the past few years. He isn't best pleased with the accusations levelled at him about instigating dissent. He also dislikes the fact that his students are receiving some fairly rough treatment from the likes of the watchmen and that renowned dipshit, Suryavanshi. Consequently, the self proclaimed 'Crazy Old Man' is considering throwing in the towel at some point soon.

First off, BMM with the lack of SSR typed in at the most unreasonable timeslots on the timetable would suck balls. Let's not delude ourselves. Right from the get-go, the guy grilled us in the interview and informed us later, that we weren't selected because we had the best marks or the best interviews, but because we had the potential to improve. The key phrase there - 'to improve'. What is learning if not a constant quest to improve oneself? Keeping us on our toes, from day one. The endless photocopies are just a solitary example of his urge to impart knowledge. Photocopies that if lined up side-by-side could probably create a paper trail all the way to-... well, you get the idea. Then of course, there was the Baramati/Satara bus trip, where he'd spend the whole day conducting workshops, taking us to admittedly, fairly odd places and would end up flat across his bed/a sofa. Passed out from sheer exhaustion. Let's not forget the cake/note/gestures that SSR was responsible for at Baramati for Sid, Jayesh and Ishita. Then, he did the SY Industrial Visit straight after and launched headlong into Himachal Pradesh as soon as he was back from the SY visit. The man apparently possesses infinite reserves of energy and enthusiasm (it would appear). I hardly need to mention the fact that he continues to drive us all to aim to excel and find the spark within us and nurture it, maybe douse it in kerosene to help it burn brighter. In addition, and probably the most controversial point of all, he hammers on and on about the need to question. The need to question everything and to settle for nothing. A throwback to the Socrates-style of dialectic thinking, which SSR never fails to mention at the best of times.

Incidentally, B. K. Karanjia considered the concept of 'questioning authority' to be very important as he mentioned at that founder's day thing. That's right, the same founder's day thing where that assclown Parkar showed just how foolish he was by claiming that it was the celebration of John Wilson's birth. Karanjia also felt that this was a theme that was slowly being phased out of educational institutions these days.

Is it all that important though? I mean, why should we care about this whole 'questioning' hoo-ha? Isn't it sufficient for us to lie down in the Henry Ford-esque assembly line and allow the system to churn us out as obedient, submissive and accepting automaton droids? Products of the system, and all that. After all, that would prime us perfectly to be obedient call centre employees, who can put on American accents, where needed and work in Dilbert-style cubicles. It's not like any of us ACTUALLY wanted to be journalists or advertisers anyway, right? Or even if we do become one of those, we can always use our training at college to accept what is handed to us by the Powers-that-be and nod, smile and obey orders. Why would college be all that different if Sudhakar was to throw in the towel? After all, they'd bring in another department head and within a couple of weeks, we'd all be saying, "Sudhakar, who?". Right?

Or perhaps we could NOT lie down, NOT take the random stupidity from the watchmen, Parkar and Suryavanshi and NOT submit to what is told to us, without questioning it. Sudhakar may have made his decision and if it is in fact, his decision to leave, there's not a whole lot we can do about it. Apart from doing what he taught us to do. QUESTION EVERYTHING! Don't take crap from the authorities! Dissent is the greatest weapon we possess.. USE IT!! We can't make the hierarchy bow down before us, but we can attempt to beat the system. The first step we've really got to take is to make sure that we're NEVER in the wrong. What I'm referring to right now is those pesky and degrading ID-Cards. I'd like to request everyone to ensure that they never forget to bring those. The last thing we want to do is to provide the pricks with more fuel and firepower against us.

And beyond that, we play it by ear and take it one step at a time.

Karan

"Yes I know my enemies
They’re the teachers who taught me to fight me
Compromise, conformity, assimilation, submission
Ignorance, hypocrisy, brutality, the elite
All of which are american dreams
All of which are american dreams
All of which are american dreams
All of which are american dreams
All of which are american dreams
All of which are american dreams
All of which are american dreams
ALL OF WHICH ARE AMERICAN DREAMS!!"

-Know Your Enemy - Rage Against the Machine

Left Arm Over

He walks slowly into the centre and looks all around him.

A small smile escapes onto his lips as he looks at the familiar surroundings.

He closes his eyes and takes it all in. The sound of the random commotion around him.

The sound of the bat handle hitting the stump into the ground forcefully.

He twirls the 5 and a half ounce red and shiny leather ball, his fingers creeping over the perfectly sewn seam. He is smiling again, as he gets a good enough grip onto it. He twirls it in the air from hand to hand, watching the seam.

He walks up to the bowling end. Standing parallel to the stumps he slowly and purposefully walks back to mark his run-up.

With each step back, he is reminded of a flourish of memories that were earlier locked away.

His first yorker. His first succesful bouncer. The very first time he started getting a hint of outswing.

He reaches the end of his run-up. Same old numbers each time. 13 and a half steps. With the corner of his sole, he digs his shoes deep into the ground to mark it.

From the corner of his eye, he can see that the batsman has reached the crease and is taking guard himself.

Another wry smile. A not too tall fellow, little on the portly side. This was going to be interesting.

He turns around, and for about five seconds, he doesn't face the batsman, but instead faces the opposite direction.

His mind is clear, as are his objectives. He closes his eyes, and with them, he closes all possible outside thoughts. He imagines himself on a different plateau, a parallel universe, if you will. Nothing exists anymore.

It's just two of them out there now. Him, and the individual who stands in the way of his goal, 24 yards away. There is no sound, no motion. Time almost stands still. Not a blade of grass, nor a speck of mud is moving.

He turns around and opens his eyes.

The man is ready, he's hitting the willow into the earth. That's the signal. It's showtime...

He puts his hand up, to get the attention of the umpire.

"Left Arm Over!"

And he starts. A slight jump at the beginning, and his feet land into his run-up. There's still no sound.

He can hear himself breathe a little heavier, as he increases his speed. At the other end, there's just the sound of willow hitting earth repeatedly, at a beat that almost seems musical.

His eyes are on his target. He is ready to let go. Of everything

The sudden jump...

A forceful land...a grunt....and he lets it go...He lets everything go.

He is free.

As he slows down again, he casts his eyes at his prey menacingly. Another smile...


He has found his way back...he has come home again...




Darius Mistry



chronicles of the rabid yogi-oppression

Tired from the hard walk under the trying sun the rabid yogi went inside a cave which was on the way
and sat , it was pretty dark but cool . He looked around but there was no one ,yet he knew that he was
never alone.

the rabid yogi as always cried there, he moaned ,he wailed , for he never understood the ways of man.

than he sat properly, washed his face with the water he had , and started writing...


I saw the tears of the oppressed,
and they had no comforter;
power was on the side of their oppressor,
and they have no comforter.

And I declared that the dead,
who had already died,
are happier than the living,
who are still alive.

"but better than both
is he who has not yet been,
who has not seen the evil
that is done under the sun."

but let me tell you a secret
" the oppressors are the oppressed
and the oppressed are the oppressors"

man cries in pain when hurt
but at others pain laughs.

"survival of the fittest indeed "
what an irony!!!!!


with this the rabid yogi closed his old tattered, tear stained book and started walking again
under the trying sun....

Thursday, December 01, 2005

chronicles of the rabid yogi-chance and time

Tired from the hard walk under the trying sun the rabid yogi went inside a cave which was on the way
and sat , it was pretty dark but cool . He looked around but there was no one ,yet he knew that he was
never alone.

the rabid yogi as always cried there, he moaned ,he wailed , for he never understood the ways of man.

than he sat properly, washed his face with the water he had , and started writing...



man boasts about his strenght and his ability to progress and be victorious,
but this is what i have obsereved from all my journey under the trying sun


The race is not to the swift
or the battle to the strong,
nor food comes to the wise
or wealth to the brilliant
or favor to the learned;
but time and chance happens to them all.

Morever, no man knows when his hour will come:

As fish are caught in a cruel net,
or birds taken in a snare,
so men are trapped by cruel times
that fall unexpectedly upon them.


with this the rabid yogi closed his old tattered, tear stained book and started walking again
under the trying sun....