Me,I like Reading !

There are things,of various sorts and of plethora of class,which all sane humans love to do and have a penchant for.May it be Rambling, Biking, Gadabouts,Lewd acts,sleeping etc for the males and tittle-tattling, shopping,embracing the idiot-box etc for the towards-extinction gender.But leaving aside the interests of others,permit me talk about myself.

Me,I like Reading.Reading the best-sellers novels.Novels that are intricate.
Well,There is an outre panache linked with books.Let it be Fiction or Non-Fiction coz when you love something you love the whole macrocosm and not any specific class of it.Though I personally feel that reading fiction novel do not let you gain
anything on the knowledge front.You read it and you dispose it.While a non-fiction novel installs itself at a pedagogic platform.It gives an insight,ask for some more space in your memory-palace and turns the page by transmogrifying voidness into richness as far as knowledge is concerned.So if you love phantasm,get a fiction novel but if you embrace something real,try a non-fiction novel.

My love for novels instigated with Harry Potter series when I was in,I suppose,in Class 8th.The world of witches,hags, brooms,Snitches,Horcrux and Avada-kedavra turned me on.This infact is a fact that unreal things attract you first! Then came Five-Point Someone,a Chetan Bhagat copyright that taught about IIT Delhi,Hari and Neha,Fraternity and all.I still have a conviction that that was a ubercool novel.Until now I didnt know what was the difference between Fiction and Non-fiction novel.But then TOI enlisted The Ignited Minds to one of the best Non-Fiction novel and so I scuttled to get a copy.I would say that getting real is really difficult.I found it banal,teaching what should we do and what not to keep India running etc.Therefore Fiction Redux! Came Jeffrey Archer with his Prisoner of Birth.Loved it!Then the ratings of Ahmedabad Times rated Robin Sharma's The Monk who sold his Ferrari snatching the top cliff.Again a paroxysm caused me to buy the book.Once again theoretical lectures,Life,Deaths,Success,Happiness and all.I made my mind that Non-Fiction is not my cup of tea and decided to leave it for ever.

I reached college.The Library was awesome but only for geeks.No Novels ! No Fiction !But then I found a copy of Business Legends that though belonged to the blacklisted list of Non-Fiction Novels but as it was on Business world I took it for I have a love for BSE,Ambani,Tata,Annual Reports,Profits etc.Amazed ! Excited ! Resonance ! Completely Loved it.I was wrong about that cup of tea.I rummaged for more Non-Fiction novels thereafter and got hold of Freedom at Midnight, You Can Win,India
Unbound etc.Absolutely Superb !After I really digged into Non-Fiction, I pondered that Fiction though exciting is Facade.It gives you nothing except an outstanding story that can hardly occur in the real world.While,on the other side,you get fringe
benefits like Facts,Education,Insights,Motivation,Knowledge with a non-fiction novel.

After a year of so,I heard about Salman Rushdie,A Fiction NRI Writer who was bestowed with the Best of Booker for his Midnight's Children.Hence after completing The White Tiger,I bought -'The Enchantress of Florence' as I didn't get the midnight's novel at the store.Absolutely Stunning.Such magnificent puns.Such grandiose personifications.Such Vocab-Bank.Such intricacies involved,I adulated Salman Sir.And the king of Labyrinth was still waiting-Midnight's Children! After much hardship,I got hold of the coveted novel.Started off and I found myself in another world.In Kashmir with Shikara's where Adam Aziz was ambulating and Kolynos Kids and Pakistan,India and China and Spitoons and pepperpots and Bombay and Lastly Salim.A true Sui generis novel.And also the longest time consuming novel thanks to its complexities.I am still reading it and I love every line of it.Infact such is the love that I do not wish to finish it off !

I have a long list of Novels I am waiting to read ranging from Philosophical Fountainhead to the Nobel Laureate's The Argumentative Indian.And I wish if everyone can develop this ritual as atleast its better than wasting time gossiping,rambling,watching fatuous movies,surfing stupid sites etc coz after all Time is a Virtue !

Happy Reading ! :)

The Great Midnight Mutiny: Strike at NIT-J

As it ended, a new start was orchestrised. An end that ended the festivity. A start that started a new festivity.This time ,Black and Char. A festivity of Revolt yearning for revolution.A celebration where the fingers united to become a fist to fight the despot.Presenting,Strike in NIT-Jalandhar.

Those three days,We enjoyed.We Played.We Participated and We Organised.But if good comes after bad,then cant bad expect its turn after good?The Colourful night of techNITi'09 gave way to the black.A black night.A night of an insult.A night of a slap.As the organisers were going for the dinner outside the campus after the closing ceremony of techNITi'09,Chief Warden and R****** S******,a faculty stifled them to do so.So they retreated back peacefully.But then R****** S****** started to spit slang at their back.Hearing the cursing,the seniors stopped and came back to him to ask for the reason of such a slang for them.At this,R****** S****** lifted his hand,wafted in the air,pumped up adrenaline and Pacchallio!...A Slap.
The sullen receiver of this slap was a 12th Passed Guest,Brother of a final year student who came to embrace the techfest.This incident triggered the revolt.Not able to disperse this incident as just another insult by the faculty,the students instigated the vengeance.

SMS flied.Calls spreaded.The Undergraduate underdog realized that the threshold has been crossed.At the midnight,the epoch-making started.The faculty with Director and Deans started to sweat,not knowing that they should save their sweat for the ensuing days.The protestors spended their night protesting at the Main Gate.At the first light of the sun,they started to burgeon coz the news was carried to all hostels.Girls came out of their haven to support.The Main gate was amazed to see such a gargatuan teeming for the first time in its history.

A din of opposition followed.First ever strike of NIT-J was under making. It started off with the Blocking of NH-1 just outside the campus for a jiffy.(We backed off coz we thought that we are fighting against NITJ administration and not the nation).The sullen students then reached for the staff quarters to assist the deaf hear. Envisaging that the peaceful protestors could turn into a tinderbox,the faculty called up the police.The heavy strident protest caused the faculty to come out of their hiding and open the mouth regarding the resignation of the involved faculty.

A Word from the faculty(Registrar,Acting Director:P* C******,S** M****** and few other dark luminaries) invited a thousand words from the students.Tacit,the talk was unsuccessful.Palpitating that its of no use to quibble,our leaders snatched a paper,took a pen and scribbled all the demands onto it which was then vouchsafed to the Registrar.The Police epitomising its legacy of being late came in afternoon but received a serious setback when the protestors turned them down by turning a deaf ear to them.
By the way,The Demands were:
1.Order of Suspension of the involved faculty(R****** S******,INE Deptt)
2.Ouster of Dr.SK Sinha from the post of Chief Warden.
3.Acquiesce the involvement of students before ordering any rule to be enacted.

After that on the next day,meetings were held in CSH.Slogans were casted.But no result.It seemed as if a deadlock have been clinched when on Tuesday(22th September,2008),a notice on the notice-board of Hostel-7(In which I live) caused a thousand rictus and took everyone by their breathe.It seemed like a game of Chess when we students on one side was check-mated by the side of the Administration.
The Notice signed by Registrar said:It is hereby declared that Institute will remain closed till 1st October 2009.

This stirred a strange consternation across the students coz due to holidays, there will be no strike possible. Two solutions found sense. The First: To go on Hunger strike and seduce plethora of media attention so that the administration is forced to accept all the demands or Second: To live a life of a Hedonist, Enjoy the Holidays, Shoot the breeze, Party Hard and then strike again on opening of College (5th October 2009).While the popular choice was to go for First Option, I with some other friends were severely and openly supporting the second one.
At night, a meeting followed in Hostel-6.A Hunger strike (Hence, Option 1) was declared to be enjoyed. I was disappointed.Lekin Koi Nahin; I thought I would support the seniors.

The Next day (Wed, 23th Sept) events were uneventful. Nothing happened. No Strike. No media.Nothing.In the afternoon, it came to be known that the seniors have decided to support the Second Option.Superb.After all, it was a nice decision. Happy faces were seen to depart for their home. I also joined those faces on Thursday,24th Sept.And now here I am compiling this article at my home in Ahmedabad.Hope that the denouement comes out in our favour...

Dance:Let me think Why !

Dance, Dance is a thing which always made me think that:”Who the dumb invented this?
”Definately,It might not have been invented by some Genius as other things are.

We are the descendants of Monkey. Aren’t We? It seems quite propitious that we have been bestowed this boogie-woogie by them. A monkey who would have been too happy to get a banana must have wafted his limbs to rejoice and seek attention. Seeing this bob, other monkeys too might have joined the chaos to flaunt that they could also move their body. This Legacy might be the mother of today’s Dance.

There are theories that Dance originated from Bees. Seeing two bees communicating by movements, Humans might have thought it to be a great communication skill. But then we can speak!

There is also a theory that Humans might have invented Rhythmic movements to please God! But then, was it was a wise decision? Could God would have been:”Hey Gal, You move really nice! Tathastu !” and “Hey, You pig. Do you think I’ll be impressed by those ugly movements? Get Lost. You will go to Hell!”

I really cannot understand why in parties people dance. Is there a need to lift your leg, waft your hand in air, twist your neck, shake your ass and sweat like a pig to express that you are happy and enjoying the party? Moreover, why do you need to do the thing which you don’t know? I believe 95% of the people in the World don’t know how to dance. Out of these 95%, half of them not-so-good dancers need others to join with them so that no one points to them and cracks a joke on their bulky body movements. Thus, though they know that they are doing something laughable and funny yet they do it! This clearly signals a herd’s mentality. Moreover, there is a tendency in the dancers to go to the peaceful sitting crowd and pull one or two from it onto the stage so that they could feel secure that atleast someone dances worst than them. Then there are drunkards roaming here and there in the party who are definitely very difficult to classify into dancing or non-dancing group.Coz at one instant they might be jumping like a Gorilla and at the other might be lying somewhere on the floor expectorating.

But obviously there is something in my blood coz of which I do not dance. My Grand-Father being a strict Military Officer saw dance as an extension of the bar business. My Mom was never interested in dance while my father prefers to walk peacefully with the Bride’s father in the baraat. So you see, it is coded in my genes that I can’t dance.

But coming to the main reason why I don’t dance is that I do not see a reason for it. Moreover if anyone is still not convinced, learn from Bollywood constantly giving message about the uselessness of dance, showing that the hero has to constantly dance round a tree and on the roads to get an average sari-cladded girl while the bad guy, the villain do not even shake a leg to get the hotter and wilder ‘Mona Darling’.

Indianness under attack...

This Post is a result of response to the article printed in TOI(13th August 2009).
Read the full article at : HERE

I was savouring myself in the mess when Anant barged past the entrance of the mess with his hand holding TOI.He signalled me to read in it an article titled-‘BREAK INDIA,SAYS CHINA THINK TANK’. I found myself in a stark consternation after reading it.

Unable to discard it as mere bogey, I vouchsafed to myself-“What a shit!. After all the Yellow men have traced the Achilles heel of INDIA that could result in we again falling prey to foreign despot again. Though the motif of this planning is not new which is more painful coz it reverberates that we do not learn from our mistakes.

Today we don’t see ourselves as Indian. We divide ourselves according to regions:Punjabis, Kashmiris, Biharis,Gujarati,Marathi,Bengali and Tamilian.If the state is same, then the division shifts itself to religion: Hindu, Muslim, Sikh, Christian which further finds way for caste and sub caste. This division is deeply embedded in Indians and is ubiquitous in India. Groups like RSS,Bajrang Dal,ULFA and Shiv Sena pour oil into such fires of division. No doubt, Divide and Rule seems to be an excellent acolyte to the invaders.

This is the thing which inspires the Chinese to think about the balkanisation of India.India is a fastest developing country which is second only to China. It has its own requirements which coincide with that of China. No doubt China feels India to be a threat to its development. Moreover, on the other shore, talks between China and India is on a new coefficient of smoothness which in fact is an augury of trouble coz China has a legacy to bestow its rivalry when the other is busy shaking hands of friendship.

With the Indian Army declaring that it would be foolhardy to compare Indian Defence to the Chinese counterparts, the latter being much more ahead on the tarmac, the Statement by the Chinese should not be taken lightly. Time is running down and the enemy’s intention are not in disguise. With the Independence day approaching, lets ponder over as to how to help India to continue this festivity without any malevolent gestures from enemies. Let us not take this freedom for granted and quibble over to which soil of India we belong. While sauntering on the seraphic hills of Himalayas,Let us only echo ourselves to be an Indian and nothing else !

Day 6,Dalhousie:The Curse of being Enchanted...

The Sun arose in the sky with trepidation, as if it has inherited our mood. I woke up at 7am when Anant was still in his dreams. I gave him a subtle push to wake up. Then I went for the showers, for against the mundane days, the bathrooms were not occupied. As I got ready, Anant bestowed me with his bizarre whim. He said that we should straight away rush to the church in Gandhi-Chowk at noon, as he thought it to be the holy site where we would sight our ENCHANTRESS again. Moreover, that we might be able to see her again was the thing that my Heart whispered too.

We ate our breakfast and headed for our surveying work. After completing the theodolite work, we had a new task today. Plane Table surveying. My Group headed out with our equipments for the Station.I spearheaded to draw Dalhousie onto the paper. Navjot,Manjeet,Nishesh and Jhanvi took the measurements. Lokesh who advocated for NIYANTRAN(discipline) in the group at the starting was slowly losing Niyantran himself. The dormant Vishal assisted in a general way while Angad was pleased with his Geddas !(Through his Geddas he helped us a lot).Though the starting was slow,we soon covered up until we reached station-1.Station 1 consisted in drawing the whole Youth Hostel and involved fastidious drawings. Moreover, we were confused over our basic concepts. It ate our precious four hours and we packed up at half-done Station 2.

The Clock showed 5pm and I had not forgotten the plan. Therefore I waited for Aayush and Anant to come back.When they arrived,I clutched my DG Cam and announced that if we sight our enchantress again then we'll have a snap with her for sure(don't know why I did that).Anant too backed my idea and we headed out. Savouring Pani-Puri at Subhash Chowk, we reached the Church at Gandhi Chowk. The same church where our heart dreamt to embrace the beauty again. There we prayed our individual silent prayers and then waited. Waited for the Enchantress. Waited for our whim to prove itself correct.

But sometimes, what we yearn for need not fulfill itself. Thinking that 'sometime' to be this time, we came out of the church. To play the last resort, we carried ourselves to the Tibetan Market, coz like yesterday she might visit Tibetan market again. But No success.
Feeling like being failed, we rambled to the Airforce Area diverting uphill from the heart of Gandhi Chowk. After some stroll, we felt it's not worth to go more and hence we descended. As we reached Gandhi Chowk, ALAS!

She was there. Our Enchantress has returned. I could not believe my eyes and asked Anant to confirm(I was confused as she had used make-up today unlike yesterday).Aayush and Anant jumped. Yes, there she was. A beauty unparalleled. And then Anant went mad as if not able to bear her pulchritude anymore, as if she now controlled him. He trotted behind her clutching my palms. As we reached near her flagrant circle, She was treating herself with Pani-Puri. Then, I remembered a principle which governs every girl. A Girl would never agree to prison herself into a stranger's camera (Coz then a devil called Photoshop do exist).I tried to explain them this thing but then Aayush tantalized that-"Teri phat rahi hai" ! By then, seeing our chaotic moves, she build a bad impression into her mind for us(I am just guessing !)

But when I saw her going away,I succumbed to her power too. This was the CURSE OF BEING ENCHANTED .I signaled Anant-Yes ! And we rushed to the shop where the beauty was standing, Anant leading the torch. As we reached, we sighted Navjot. Anant asked her to say to our Enchantress that we three have got a dare (Remember the Game-Truth n dare?) to have a snap with her. She went to her and spoke the same. Then Anant said-"Would you please mind being clicked"? But missing a villain in our cute story, It seemed as if her mother appointed herself for the role. She grimaced at our request with a horrible face but we waited for the girl to say something (For our request was with her and not with her mother!).We waited for an impossible Yes, challenging her own mother's decision.

But then our heart broke as she went with her mother's decision and signaled a NO!.We retreated and went away from her. We, the three broken heart bearers, were gloomy now and were pacing ourselves to the hostel. Thus, a shadow followed between the adored and the adorer (We three).The Adorers never now wished to see their adoration again though they would not cease to embrace her. The Curse now was broken.

This was the story of the Enchantress of Dalhousie. But the Story of Dalhousie do not ends....It continues....

Story of the Black Sun...

The Sun is emerging into the Horizon trying to drain the mankind with his humdrum beams fatuous of the nature’s orchestration to rebel. Though no late did he figured out the plot. The Lunar friend seemed to be the renegade under the sedition.

This is not the first time he is suffering from such betrayal, he remembered the day before 105 revolutions of Earth around him. And today he stands in a straitjacket as he stood on that day too. The mighty sun is being betrayed but it is his predicament that he could not retaliate, coz he understands it is not his idiosyncrasy to be juvenile. Coz it has a paramount onus to serve the world. Moreover, he is not melancholy due to the plot, but that it will pause him to serve makes him sad.

At 5:30 according to the clocks of his intelligent most servant, instigated the rebellion. The Moon started to confront him, yes the same moon who gets the fair beauty just because of him! The vibrant vivacious Sun soon started to fade to black.

As he sees himself dark he gazes onto Earth to avoid the shame. And here he is bestowed with shame again, stirring into him a question as to why he serves such a world. He sees people looking on him with an extreme ecstasy as if they are delighted to see their patriarch fall. Avoiding them his eyelids then turns to a swathe of sophisticated beings, who are trying to exploit the opportunity for something good which salvaged his plight, as even in this dereliction of duty, he is proving himself salutary ! He then turns to an echelon of people called astrologers and soothsayers who were chanting slokas and mantras trying to save themselves from the non-existent danger as if the plot is not on him but on them and deeply lamented on their vacuous reckoning.

At Half past Six, Seeing the Sun disporting himself by sighting Earth, Moon lost his temper and covered the Sun completely, though then after 4 minutes he resigned as he could not evade the ubiquitous forces. Smiling at the Moon’s failed attempt,Sun resumed his pastime again, and saw millions of his sons gaping onto him without actually sighting him,with the assistance of a gadget that provided direct pictures of his sufferings without the curse of his beams.

Seeing people go in rhapsodies over his embarrassment, in apoplexy he contemplated to fade to ashes forever, an anger so powerful that it forced the Moon to go aside fearing his anguish at Half past 7.

The Rebel has backed off. And now the Sun shined again in its full effulgence. But he was burning. Burning with contempt towards his sons. Burning for they liked to see him suffer. But then, serendipity occurred. He saw a five year old girl smiling and dancing on the thoroughfare, for he has started to shine again. She was joined with some other Lilliputians who flooded him with praise and encomia. Birds, foxed by the double sunrise, kissed him eulogy with their gay chirping. Flowers that went dead by the sudden fall in sunlight came to life again. The Earth seemed to resurrect by exhaling panegyrically.

At this instant, he understood his birth.

And now he shines brightly in the paradise with a new zeitgeist...

Harishchandra and this World !

Well, Raja Harishchandra, as we all know was a hindu king of Lunar Dynasty ever famous for his always truth speaking guts and candour. Never in his life, he ever uttered a lie and didn’t ever back off. But what did he get for that? A Life where he was made to work as an assistant to the guard of Cremation place, his wife and son as a servant to royal palace? The only result for truth was extreme penury for this King. Though his aplomb at that time was much extolled by the Gods and was invited to share the heaven, but did he get another life to live? No!

But Today, We have relegated to such a extent that a lie has become part and parcel of life. But its claims that it is unfortunate do not touch my heart. Actually, incorporating speak-no-lie and always-speak-truth principles in our life can lead us to big problems in this world.

Imagine yourself under speak-no-lie charm. When your professor asks you as to why you didn’t do your assignment, your answer could have been for being ill which could have opened gates for some clemency, but now under the charm-‘Sir, I was not feeling like doing as I thought a movie to be a much brighter option’. No Harishchandra might be able to evade this situation and if he practised his truth principles, he might have come under professor’s wrath and would have been bestowed with supplementary.

Now if we conceive that a gadget has been invented, size being like a watch, which beeps when someone talking to you lies. ’You are my best friend’-BEEP.’I love you dear’-BEEP.’I always believed that you are smarter than me’-BEEP.’I didn’t eat your Tiffin’-BEEP.’No never I flirt with your girlfriend ’-BEEP. The life would be a heaven if only you had that weapon but if another person too had that thing ,it could be apocalyptic. Life would be monotonous and melancholy. Everyone uttered the same fat old truth. There would be no flattery, obsequious servants. There would be more suicide rates after hearing the bitter truth. Murders would flourish coz it needs an iron’s heart to hear ones’ criticism. World would be easy for Police though ,as mere asking of whether one is a thief ,it will be able to get the truth. No enquiry, nothing. Politicians might die before this epoch as there would be no life for them without their lies.

Thus, such a world will extricate many problems though life would not be liveable. Therefore Mr Harishchandra though hats off to you for your ever truth speaking idiosyncrasies but we don’t want to ruin and forlorn our world. We understand that Truth is seraphic but you should also understand that a Lie is not always satanic. Even God Sri-Krishna relied on a lie in Mahabharat to conquer victory!
Because Truth is a shapeless thing,it can change accordingly depending on persons and conditions.Therefore the thing that matters is perception.Until the perception is not bad,Truth or lie are immaterial.According to me,a person should possess enough wit so that he must be able to choose when,if necessary,to speak a lie so that least detriment is caused.I support Truth but under certain miscellaneous circumstances,I support a Lie too...

Day 5 : The Enchantress of Dalhousie....

The Morning of 26th June brought an epoch with itself. The Clouds seemed to romanticise with the Sun and there was something eerie in the air today. Rizwan sir too could not even evade this zeitgeist and declared the day as half day. The next part of the day was desolated for a trip to Panchpulla (its pulla and not kulla!) at a distance of 2.5km from Gandhi Chowk.

After surveying in the first half,at 3pm we geared up to stroll in Panchpulla. But hit by the Punjabi melee who were quite indecisive whether to take bus or taxi, we lost time. At last, we grounded for a private taxi leaving our Punjabi friends behind. We, here consisted of Angad, Aayush, Anant, Prabeen, Vishal, Nitin and ofcourse me!

By 5:30pm we reached Panjpulla and found it having nothing more than Sardar Ajit Singh memorial and a market until we found a way leading us for mountain trekking. Delighted, I ran naively(even those who had done it before ran as if its a plain ground) on the rocks with a tumultuous breeze to reach Rizwan Sir with Arshdeep, Rajat, Suveera, Sanah, Chand and Paramjot(they headed somewhat early and hence were ahead of us). The Result was we drained our energy and were out of breath when we reached them.Nevertheless, gathering some adrenaline by taking rest near a cool Lilliputian waterfall, we stood to conquer the rocks. Precisely taking every step and singing the oldies,we reached at around 400meters vertical on the precipice hindered only by the time constraint of 1 hr the taxiwalla threw before us(The nature was working in disguise for something)Instead of traversing back to hostel at 6:30pm,we destined ourselves to Gandhi Chowk.(Our mind abetting the nature too).

Rambling out of the same fat old Tibetan market, we were blinded by someone! A Feminist marvel. She possessed a pale, fair beauty so intense that no man could look at her without falling into the state of molten adoration. She possessed an eerie charm that blinded the eyes against all only to see her as if denying to gaze at something inferior. Her sight caused others to be non-existent. She was an ENCHANTRESS. When she went inside the Tibetan market with her girly group, me and Anant unable to bridle ourselves to this beauty of heaven, decided to go back to Tibetan market from rear (This was the first time in my life I was chasing and strolling behind a Girl!).On entering the market and forwarding few steps, we sighted her. Seeing us again, she giggled in a sort of élan that left us frenzied. We came out with a deep breath full of her flagrance.

Weave a nest for youself in the depths of my eyes.O your slender body that resembles a young tree growing in the garden of my heart.At the sight of a bead of sweat on your face I may suddenly die.

The Time is a devil which is not enchanted by anyone and keeps on running. Due to this devil running out, we left our enchantress and dragged back to the hostel for dinner .At night ,I confessed that I have seen no such pulchritude anywhere else, being rambled on the streets of Chandigarh, Delhi and Ahmedabad.Anant too agreed not to have seen such an unparalled beauty.

Was this the end of our story or the beginning of a new world, Neither I knew nor Anant. We were just austerely bewitched by our enchantress. Let the time sing the song....

Work is Religion:Dalhousie DAY 2,3 and 4

The Sun emerged to do its justice again. Being the first day of work, there seemed no problem to wake up and rise, after all the pain was to be felt in the ensuing days. Till then, we enjoyed our first lovely Dalhousie dawn. Breakfasted, we got ready for what we treaded all the way here-Surveying.

We were divided into 7 groups and I was filled in Group 5. Lokesh, Manjeet, Navjot,Jhanvi, Angad,Passang,Vishal and Me. A mixed nugget, our group consisted a sort of perfect blend of fun and work. Lokesh took care of the Fun part assisted by Navjot. Jhanvi found a clinch in scribbling down the readings. Vishal and I took the reading while Manjeet hounded to recheck it. Passang was dexterous with staff and Angad found pleasure in Geddas...

Sometimes ,it seems that the luck is against you and you are the one unforgiven .The same we thought when we were gifted to start the work with Station-12,near the bus stand. Every bus and car of Dalhousie seemed to cross our debut station,deafening ears to all sounds and we felt cheated. To add oil to the fire, Rizwan Sir came out with his own wanton remarks that caused us to boil. But in this hardship lied our success. Coz a hammer shatters a glass, but forges steel. At the end of the day, we completed a satisfactory numbers of stations championed by equal contribution from all the members.


At 5pm,Anant,Aayush and I decided to uncover the ecstasy of Dalhousie and we treaded on the tarmac to Subhash Chowk and Gandhi Chowk. On the way, our delight to prison ourselves in camera got unleashed. Tibetan God could not also save himself from having a snap with us evils.

Gandhi Chowk spearheaded to be the shopping hub of Dalhousie. We walked through Tibetan market there and various shops selling timber items like tray and penholder, pullovers, blankets, shawls, handicrafts etc. On the first day itself, we bought a beautiful wooden tray for our mom. Then, we seated ourselves in a restaurant for a quick partake that gave away the sight of hot gals for free! In sightseeing, we could not follow the watch and therefore realising that dinner might miss if we do not beetle up, we did the required. There was an insouciant walk in the garden after dinner and at 10pm,we went back to our rooms. Reading a novel, I bid goodbye to the lovely first day and gave way for dreams !

The next two days were just the extension of this day, where there was theodolite work and the evenings were spent in the same way eating Pani-puris and rambling in Gandhi Chowk.There happened to be Rakesh's(Our beloved CR) birthday on 25th June but i ll expand it in another article.
Something eventful occurred only after it on 26thJune that took me by my breathe....

Enter Dalhousie

After a plethora of contemplation and parley,Dalhousie was zeroed to be our survey camp location and it proved out to be no wrong conclusion.Due to a lot of labyrinth involved,frankly speaking no one would have come to attend the camp,had it been optional.But then due to the fear of suppli in a 2 credit course,all the classmates were ready to check out from their hostel on 22nd June dawn.
We had booked a bus(that seemed to collapse there and then,Credit:Rakesh) for Dalhousie.The Bus arrived and we thrived for a seat self-choiced.Anant took care for the baggage to be roped at the roof and I rummaged for two seats in sync.I grasped for two seats behind the seats of Suveera and Sanah,not knowing the jeopardy involved.Anant came after setting the baggage in clinch.Through the Hubbub,we all instigated our hill station trip(For me,it was first.Others had been when I was a juvenile and hence find no memento in my memory palace).Being a debut propinquity,the class was relatively silent as compared to the chaotic din in the journey in ensuing days.The seats turned out to be propitious for the trip as Saiwal predicted that the sunbeams will shine on the other edge of the bus.By then,Sanah was getting much amused by our technical quibble.GD was entertaining himself by the stark comments of Anvita.While Rakesh,Anurag and Nikhil behind us were in their own world.Aayush was lost somewhere at the rear with his Punjabi swathe. For a time pass,Me and Anant started to banter about earth,gravity,beams and trusses when Suveera beseeched us to stop studious talks(The Jeopardy claiming its worth now).After a second interruption from her,pondering why she was listening to our talks,we curled up listening to Metallica,Nickelback and Greenday in my Ming.
Reached Pathankot at 10:15am and the bus indeed collapsed and sucked our 2 hrs.We breakfasted and took rest while the bus was being repaired.When the bus was rendered fit,Change of Seat scandal was discovered propelled by Dont-Know-Who.The Girls were worst hit coz they reached the bus late.This led to a skirmish between Rakesh and Manisha,Manisha eyeing Rakesh's broken seat.It dissolved when some punjabis volunteered to give her their seats.The Bus left Pathankot at 12:30pm.Now I and Anant seated with Vijeesh.He asked us various puzzles which invited Anant to play his dassas on.To stop him from more dassas,I and he involved ourselves in Atlas,Saiwal being neutral.(Still the discrepancy exists,Who won it)

The Arrival at Dalhousie was marked by the cool breeze that toiled to revive us to life again.The welcome at Youth Hostel was done with a petty altercation by Suraj, Receptionist there against Anant,evaded only by the intelligent silence of Anant.Looking roguish by this,he soon came out of it.We chose our bed,18 of us, who were going to live as one for 12 days.After a quick ablution Me,Anant and Saiwal staged out for discovering the ecstasy of Dalhousie.We sipped tea,wandered through the Lhasa Market nearby at the bus-stand and had Chicken Momos and Chicken Manchurian in a Chinese Restaurant.The Clock tolled 7pm by then,time to be back to hostel to listen to a set of rules by its Warden and Rizwan Sir.We were dictated rules as if we have joined army.The Speech by the Colonels ended and we jumped for the yummy dinner.Rollicking in the garden after the dinner for sometime,we headed for our room.There we played cards and engaged in some cheesy talks for another hour when our nerves asked to pay homage to a tireful journey with a rest.We all collapsed to our bed one by one and waited for the sun to shine again next day.Until then,the Night was ours !

The Google Story:Reviewed

Authored by David A Vise and Mark Malseed,The Google Story is a biography of the search giant-Google Inc.The Book draws a sort of road map and explains everything and anything related to Google.It digs into the personal life of Google Founders-Larry Page and Sergey Brin,in a subtle way and explains their ways and ideosyncrasies.From the search engine to the Chef at Googleplex,the Book starts off from stratch and continues in a swift way.It lits up the privacy problem against Google and the time of Google IPO and explain to its reader,how every problem at Google was tackled.
After reading the book,you will find yourself knowing everything about the Giant-Google!

India Unbound : Checked Out

Yearning for the Financial history of India and pondering over why India was left behind after Independence while others tasted success,I turned to India Unbound by Gurcharan Das for answers.And It proved itself more than I predicted to be.India Unbound fills the curiousity of every being wishing to acknowledge himself with a perfect blend of Financial and Economic story of India after Independence,either naive or veteran.Embedding his own stories at P&G,he ridicules boredom while reading the pageturner which otherwise always pops out in any Financial Material.Cherishing the 90's Liberalisation and critising the straitjacket policies of Nehru and Indira Gandhi,Gurcharan Das is optimistic about India's Flight.He opens up all the threads of Economic and Financial blanket assidiously and satisfies the thirst of the readers with an eerie perfection.
A MUST read for every literate Indian !

My Infatuation

Perfectly blend in my own breeze,
Rollicking Rambling like a bee
I was myself in this world
Until n unless I saw this Girl.

Fairing in a fairy white,
Her smile sprinkling a cute sight,
She had a strange panache
That made me a slave under her mark.

Might be sent to the earth,
Being Envied by the Goddess of Beauty
She faired no less than anyone
who dwelled in this mighty city !

Scurrying insouciantly behind her
Drained in her ecstatic elan
Heart beating fast,nerves pumping vast
I was in love first and last !

Trotting towards her inner circle,
I Crouched behind her holy figure
To present her my love words with a rose,
But then she spoke !

Intel's Intelligent Infomercial

There are a plethora of advertisments flying in the air,propelled by the idiotbox nowadays.While most of the ads are irrelevant and go astray in the process of building a brand value for its Lord,some swaths of ads find a place in the heart.
One such ad nowadays on the air and which is creating much buzz is the Intel's Sponsors of tomorrow Ad.
Driven by the String of words-"Your Superstars are a little different from our superstar",the ad ridicules the traditional thinking that one's superstar can only belong to the echelons of cricketers and actors.It plays on the fact that every soul has a distinct being as his inspiration,whom he dreams about to meet and beseech for an autograph.
The Ad shows Mr.Ajay Bhatt,Co-founder of USB walking with an inventor's elan inside a room of some technicians for a cup of coffee.The Intel technicians in the room go frenzy at the sight,the girls going mad about him,men ask for his autograph and he collects much reverence.The ad in its own way praises the talent of technicians that work day and night and act as the sponsors of tomorrow.
The Success of the ad is because of its capability to connect with the viewers.In a benign way,the ad shoots many stars.It creates an impression that Intel is a tech company where each work for technology of progress and they admire people with high intelligence.And,ofcourse it creates a brand value for the semiconductor bigboy-INTEL.
If every ad is made like this one,so that it resonates with the heart and brain,than definately,there will be no problem in viewing the ad and the corporate world will not curse that inspite of spending millions on ads,their product is not clear in the mind of the people.

Life on Road

Road has its own life.There are its own rules and its own followings.Being a hardcore bike enthusiast and an automobile lover,I understand the language of driving.Let me share with you some of its gospels.
CAUTION:You will be able to embrace the writing only if you are a bike enthusiast and love driving out

1)A dude loves to overtake.It is against his pride to fall behind another dude.He discovers ultimate pleasure in it.What am I doing here?I would have been against Schumacher.I would have given tough competition to him !

2)A Dude feels insulted when someone overtakes him.It automatically gives him the title of a loser.Being sacrileged,then he tries his every bit and byte to barge past the overtaker.If he is unsuccessful,then well and good.I was just behind.If that moron had not turned,I might have taught him a driving lesson !

3)But If somehow,he is successful,then the whistle of a war gets blown.Both blow horn in an attempt to remove the corpses from their flight.While one crosses ahead from the right,the other pops out from the Left.This continues until they have to
change their courses.The Winner is decided by the one who crosses the diversion first.Ha,The Stupid was competiting with me.Now He Understood who am I.While the other that felt behind-Ha,He changed his path because it was clear that I am better !

4)If a third dude sees this championship,He never gets involved,instead chuckles and calls the thing petty.Even if he was involved in such a motocross yesterday !

4)When a group of dudes go somewhere together on their bikes,they orchestrates their own MotoGP.Each find their bike to be Hayabusa.The One who is not interested and doesnot want to take risk,he is questioned-Haven't you got the balls or what?

5)If a dude crashes or falls off from his bike,then he will never accept that it was his fault.Either the road was rough,or the lorrywalla was the culprit.He insists that he did no wrong and the other man was a fucker.If on the other side,he finds
the person to be a Girl,Woman or an Old Man,then his convincing power increases multifolds.

6)If you see any automobile going slow at a snail's speed,then it is tacit that the driver is of feminist origin.Her head would be Clinched straight.She would be so tensed as if she is Rani Laxmibai going to the britishers for a war,on a car.

7)Never do the mistake of blowing horn to a female.She simply redefines the meaning of a horn and slows down further.By doing this,she fixes a lane for herself,turns neither left nor right.And you are compelled to search for another lane.

8)If somehow,any gal gets a chance to have her hands on a bike,She feels as if she is Queen Elizabeth.She rides it in her own tashan and then crashes in the middle of the road.

9)While the girly crash can occur due to billion reasons,a guy crashes because he is busy in ostentation or his eyelids astray on the surroundings ranging from stray dogs,shops,buildings to gals,latter proving a majority.

10)While Stumbling creates audiences,But when a gal stumbles,the spectators are so large that a successful advertisement of Dettol or pain relievers could be done till someone comes,help her pick her scooter and she gets going.

11)Never be behind a Bus.It saturates your eyes with a thousand specks and forces you to accept its supremacy.Moreover,it drives as if the road is build specifically for the bus and your all requests by horns goes on the deaf ears.

When I saw her last time...

I was never so happy and electric before,
When we rambled on the lovers shore
She sweared to love me ever
And told would leave you never;

We rollicked across the river
And discovered the lovely decipher
I was thinking of the bliss wall
When she gave that tearing call !

Now I was ripped apart in woe
My Heart was my dear foe,
The World and I were on different side
Yet controlled myself against fatal suicide.

She backtracked after a year's blues
Went Astray,she said with her foot glued
She recalled for the past rejoice at dine,
And yearned for the beautiful love of mine.

I gave her a fine smile,
And told my eyes to see her last time !

A Sin to seek Justice

Happy and Gay,When the results made way,
I decided to join the Army's cavalcade,
Cause I had the debt of my soil
Within my coil,to come to my mother's aid.

The Training high I reached,and
Amalgamated with souls from varied beach
Blended with beings that had different creed.
For we have the motif one and no other freak.

We fighted the sun,toiled by the moon,
And Played with blood in thunderous noon,
We savoured the mud and stuffed skin with wounds
For we had the motif one,we marched with no less sound.

Then came the day,I am prepared,we could say
We Pledged to die by our country side
and jab the one with a stanley knife
Who gave a hint to have a foul enemy eye.

I got the first itinerary to the precipice of north
To fence my motherland against the envied abroad.
I was rambling in my own thoughts under the naked sky,when
Outside People go away,someone decried.

The Sound came from a radio imitating a leader's voice
Who was wishing to banish other state's minds
He was thrashing,killing and plucking their skins,and
Kicking them from their own country's another corner.

He was dividing you Mother,by your children,forgeting
Can an ocean be divided on the basis of its waters?
Could you tell the sky to realign its stars by their light?
I was bleeding,mother,with you by seeing my kin's plight.

I Killed them mother,Yes,I killed them mother
I wished to gift knife to his heart,not to his neck
Just like he did to my countrymen by his attack.
I did something so that he bleeds like you and me,
I killed his children in the lee
And me....

The Divine Drops

Well,Persuing B.Tech from a distant college,Train Journey,Summer and Sleeper Class.When these deadly conditions unite,make a forecasting that your journey is going to be memorable,in a bitter sense.Engineering Courses are most unpredictable.Clouds of Tutorials,Extra Class,Survey,Camps,Training Programs always make the sky of Schedule gray.

As we have a survey camp course this summer,the final departure date was uncertain and as a result,the D-day of reserving a scarce seat in the train to home went on postponing.After much discussion with the professors,A final survey date was decided.But due to loss of time,Railways has got other commuters for its so called Air Conditioned Compartment and I had to satisfy myself with a Sleeper seat.I had to travel a long journey from Jalandhar to Ahmedabad.

A Contagion of Mirth was gripped in me,for I was going home.But this happiness was ephemeral. On the day of Journey Sun,much against my wishes,decided to be grateful.Soon I was sweat bucketing and my skin continued to drain as if the dams of my sweat glands have collapsed.I went straight to the upper seat with a book but soon fell asleep.Around 6 :00 in the evening,I felt noises and foot sounds,which is a sign that train has halted to a station.The Station was Bhatinda(remember Jab We Met?).I found that I had discharged much of sweat and hence I was yearning for a water pool.I rummaged and snached the water bottle,clinched its neck to the mouth and Ahh! Expectorated ! The Water was boiling like hell.Thanks Goodness,the train was still static.Relegated to the Platform,Searched for the blue eyed water boy but nowhere he was found(Absent ! I understood why professors disgrunt when we don't go to class).I trotted to the Water basins painted bold with-"Cold Water".But no success again(The Govt. Is looting us in the name of basic amenities).I was devastated.I was dying for cold water.
Water Water Everywhere,Not a single drop to drink.

Then,A Miracle happened.The Corustrating Angels of God landed on Earth.Men in White.Men in Blue.Men with Saffron Band.Men with wide head.Men with a Jar of Cool Water.Men doing Social Work.
Actually,During my two years stay in Punjab,I have cursed Punjabis for their flaunting nature and careless ideosyncrasies.But this was the first thing good I found in Punjab.Punjab has a tradition of gifting thirsty with cool water.The Men were not sage,nor workers.They belonged to working class echelons that did the apex social work of providing water to the thirsty travellers.One of them,saw me frustrated for water,and aked-Do you need Cold Water?
I nodded at once and he poured in.And thus I got another life with those DIVINE DROPS.
BJP,teach yourself from these Punjabis.Building a temple will not do any good.A Temple Construction is not a common man is looking forward too.He wishes another religion called Social Religion.
I resurrected myself with those eleemosynary drops.Now I see those Men with reverence.

The Propinquity of Ours

The Much awaited IPL 2 is in the air now where bigwigs,those who had no link to cricket before,are trying their luck and money in the gentle man’s game.It is claimed that new budding cricketers are getting chance to show their talent on this platform.Indians,whose love for cricket was never in disguise,are also rejoicing.Moreover,BCCI is standing tall with its chest boasting of high revenues and TRP which make other boards envied(England is thinking about its own league like IPL).No doubt,none of these pose a threat to us Indians.
But there is one thing which causes my heart to sink low during the IPL.I have seen a bit of division in people,supporting their own region’s team,during the IPL.Let me tell you,that I am doing my graduation from NIT(which expands to National Institute of Technology) and thanks to Jawaharlal Nehru’s arcane thinking(It has been changed now to more generously reward merit) which makes sure that their is a bit of every part of India in every NIT(Bit of our neighbours too like Nepal,Bhutan etc).So We have footprints from every different soil of India.There exist a propinquity in us:eating together,laughing in chorus,partying together and chatting with girls in unity.We cherish each other’s traditions and ideosyncrasies(Gandhiji’s soul might be blessing us !).Until IPL starts.
During IPL,a wave of same state divides the friends.Bros supporting the same team exist in some sort of clinch and others find a backspace.The Strengths and weakness of different teams becomes talk of the town.Even the couple updates(most famous among dudes) plays the second fiddle.Till here,the changes by IPL is innocuous.But the threshold breaks when these talks leap into altercations.Where each side tries to win its own virtual world created by IPL.Though the arguments are ephemeral and then we again unite,the very division between us is a cause of concern.While we curse Bal Thackeray and Varun Gandhi,we suddenly become another mini Bal Thackeray when provoked by things like IPL.I do not seek changing team names or halting the whole IPL itself.I seek None like that.What I wish to attain is,to change the parochial thinking that exists somewhere in our pea sized brain.Though,the problem is not so grandiose that it yearns an immediate concern.But a small storm makes a tycoon.Hence,forget the states and love cricket for its game and nothing else.Do not allow “Unity in Diversity” crumble to ashes so easily.
Let the Propinquity of Ours,Flourish....

A nice boy was he called...

A nice boy was he called,Before
he came to the college wall.
Out of the cage of bookish onus,
he felt as if he got a life's bonus.
A contagion of mirth filled him up,
unbridled and free,he was
Losing faith in calculus and chem,
fake are all he claimed.
He lost himself in the computer games,
and burned heart in cigarettes flames.
But he cared for nothing large,For
unbridled and free,he was
He partied hard whole night long
and danced to the liquor song.
Rum,Beer and Whisky in the jar,
Tequilla was his precious not far.
His tutors casted scathing remarks ,
His pals said he is blind to the stark.
As he cared for nothing large,For
unbridled and free,he was
The D day arrived,his pals thrived
for a better and a soothing acclaim,But
he was in muddle after snorting cocaine.
And when he layed with his collegues,
boasted of living the life like a feast.
Though inside he felt the wince.
Here he lies alone-broken and ripped
jostling for his life against
his own fag,alcohol, and nicotine.
Finding himself clogged,
he yearns for life for a better tread
being paralysed and half dead;
And now he weeps yet prepares for another feast,
by arranging for himself a mass requiem !

A Thought on Tears of Seperation

I was traversing back to my alma-mater from my home after the festival of Holi.I reached the allotted seat by the railways and was left fazed.A girl was weeping and grizzling,her tears plummeting faster than her own hands which were trying to camouflage the pearls.Her demeanour irked me.She was accompanied by her family and a boy.I was not able to distinguish them into passengers and goodbye-bidders,but I was sure about this girl.She was being separated.The clock then tickled the departure time and the train indicated its readiness to leave.My father bid me goodbye and I touched his feet.We both remained calm and compose during the parting process.But the case was different with the girl.She was making a pool out of her tears in the train,with her family doing the same on the platform.The Boy,on whom i was dicing to be her hubby,was calm though and was trying to mollify her.The train speeded and the platform shooted out of sight.

Juxtaposing the two way of parting,I tried to infer which way was better.The answer will be evident shortly.Well,Life is a progress.Progress needs actions and the actions need not be in the same circle in which you are accustomed to.A beautiful saying reverberates into my mind.

A ship in harbour is safe,but that is not what ships are built for.

When a tear arrives in the brows,it speaks of how sad and melancholy you are.Gloominess is a contagious phenomenon and it makes the other side unhappy too.While parting,tears act as a negative catalyst in the process of progress and development.During the King’s rule in India,It was heinous on the part of queen to show her grief to the departing king for war for it may make him pusillanimous.Think how queen might be feeling at that time as she didn’t even knew whether the king will return or shall lie in the graves of the history.Today,there is no question of life and death embraced.So why do people cry at the departure?Do they don’t want to go ahead in life?Do they wish to remain static and rust themselves?
Some mothers believe that their child is too naive to meet the outer world alone and fear that he will not be able to bear the barbaric world.Madam,until and unless you don’t unmoor the child’s feet from your rope of extra-concern and allow him to meet the world,he will definately be not able to stand before atrocious world.I am not against emotions and I do believe that emotions are part and parcel of life,but it is not harmful to bridle your emotions sometimes.
Thus it is tacit that tears of separation do no good and I am against these very echelons of tears.Life is a flow and it is bound to leave one shore and reach another.A Dam of overcare and the river will die.Dont let your tears provide viscosity to the life of your near and dear ones.Bid them a vivacious goodbye and see them reaching the pinnacles shortly after that....

A Familiar Stench of BJP

Bhagat Singh got himself hanged before the wanton britons,Gandhiji accepted the sinister bullet with a modest 'Hey Ram',Lala Lajpat Rai due to belliful of Lathis gave way to death,The Pogrom of Jallianwala Bagh,The harrowing Killing of plethora of freedom fighers....For Whom they sacrificed???
Did they reckoned that India will be such a heinous place to live in the ensuing years?
Did Indira Gandhi knew that one of her grandchild with his incendiary oratory will try to murder the descendants of the great Maulana Azad?
Recent varun Gandhi's speech was a familiar stench.BJP,Bajrang Dal and RSS are the real heroes of this poignant and opprobrium zeitgeist.
The Gaffe of Varun Gandhi were :"This is not the 'hand' of the congress,this is the hand of the lotus.It will cut the throat of Muslims after the elections".Using a pejorative,he plays on the fact that Muslims are circumcised.We all saw it and boiled on it.No sane Indian will care to prop or support the young varun.We are not the same India that used to fight on the invisible God.Are WE?
Well,The Words are of Varun Gandhi's own or he is duped by someone else,I dont know.The K word Varun deployed is the Indian equivalent of n-word racists in the US use for African American and belongs in gutter rather than in an election speech.He also demonised Muslim names and said Hindus ought to fear encountering Muslims at night.In any other democracy the person shall have been arrested,but this is INDIA.Here exists the labyrinthine legal processes that can salvage the person from going to jails.Lets see what happens in the coming days of this young blastic Gandhi.
Let come on the Lord of these flame-squirting souls-The BJP/RSS.The Anti-Muslim construct and threat of violence is a congenital part of the BJP and RSS.They have a genetic flaw that is so potent that it contaminates anyone who come into contact with them.They have a parochial thinking and they lack proper thinking mechanism in their coils of brain.BJP was no different from what it is now since its inception.Even the sensible known souls like AB Vajpayee were not able to hide their ideosyncrasies on this matter.Even a consummate politician like him could occasionally trip up.In a venomous speech at a BJP meeting in Goa in April 2002,shortly after the anti-muslims violence which shook Gujarat that year started,Mr Vajpayee,who was PM at that time,declared:"Wherever Muslims live,they dont like to live in co-existence with others;and instead of propogating their ideas in a peaceful manner,they want to spread their faith by resorting to terror and threats".Mr Vajpayee was later grilled on his comments.From Guruji to Atalji,Masterji to Varun,the words may vary but the notion that muslims are outsiders and enemies,are scary,have a peculiar names and are orchestrating to turn the country into Pakistan is united.
So is there anything which we can do to stop this enemity being spread by this BJP/RSS?
Yes,ofcourse.Resurrect youself and go to polling booth and cast vote in favour of Congress and dont let BJP come into power.I am not a supporter of Congress,Mind you.But I think,It is less destructive than the toxic BJP's.Otherwise,we have no alternative to save the nation from sinking like a stone !

The Acid Test of The White Tiger

The White Tiger by Aravinda Adiga.

People that like to keep themselves informed might be knowing that the Author of this book got the prestigious Booker Prize for the book some time from now.
The Award is sincerely justified.Aravinda Adiga,a correspondent of Time magazine have jabbed an acute sarcasm on every bit and byte of the Indian soil.By no dimension,the author seems to be naive or new in this world of words.
The Book is actually partitioned into six letters which ,the cynosure of the book-Balram sends to Mr Jiabao from China,who is scheduled on a state visit in the ensuing days.He starts from his village Laxmangarh and streams to Delhi,as a driver to his ex-boss Mr.Ashok who is in coal business.The pages continue to present the plight of city life until one day,Balram orchestrates a way to get out of the rooster cage by murdering and garrotting his master and taking his money to a new city called Bangalore.He discovers his entreprenuer DNA in the city and starts a Company-White Tiger Drivers,which is dexterous in conveying outsourcing beings from their home to the call center firm and vice-versa.He replenishes himself from Darkness to Light in this city.
The Book tries to link an acute nexus between people and animals(for example,He calls himself a white tiger,his master a lamb).
This Page-turner offers a complete compelling and unadorned image of the country right from the bottom of the pyramid and is a assidiously written dark humor.
Aravinda Adiga is fun to read and you will find yourself gripped into the pages once you get off the ground !

Itinerary of the Pinnacle

This World is a polymorphous tableaux,
Sometimes Atrocious,othertimes sagacious;
Here each yearns for Fame and Gold,
Is it a Success,I muse with a pause.

Diving to the skeleton of breath,
From cradle to grave,coins prop life's veins;
But does it brace heart to its own satisfaction?
I Fear the answer is NO, after a kind examination.

Hypnotized to be catapulted into the limelight,
They have buried the Turtle Hare plight;
Will Fame be able to stand tall,
When its Base is weak and sees a reason to fall.

Hassled by my thoughts,
And Thinking hard how these culprits are to be fought;
A Street Urchin came from his haven and asked,
Is there no way to accelerate on the tarmac to Success?

Fazed by his thunderbolt,
A question that was so deep and so pure;
I looked at his grimaced face and chin,
And decided to pour my heart before him.

In this Derby,Men are running without their minds,
Not able to distinguish between water and wine;
They have riven against the great white,
And have found peace with the Devil's child.

The Need of the hour is to turn the clock back,
And retain the good old supporters on the track;
Knowledge and Passion are how they are known,
To aid you to get them ahold under this World's Crown.

But dont go by the grayness of their esquire,
They are twisted core burning a different fire;
While Knowledge extracts sweat from the Brain's coil,
Passion yens sparks from Heart's wire.

Knowledge acts as a ticket for your big time,
Passion aids you to never forget the success chime;
If you can understand me,I am a talisman without a price,
Else,I am just another soul on the writer's paradise.

Who are our Foes ?

India,born simultaneously with Pakistan,has seen a plethora of wounds on its soil by the Jinnah's Country.Among them,The Attack on Parliament and the Recent Taj-Oberoi-Nariman House-Mumbai attacks have left a deep cut on India's Face.Right after these events,since then,India and its people have gone to the deep end.The People have been asking the Government to pose an attack on Pakistan to stop the militant factory breeding on Pakistan's Soil and thus help in Stopping these attacks.

But,Are we not blaming Pakistan anything and everything woeful that happens in India?
Are we not hypnotized to speak against Pakistan when we bleed?
Though,Dont act fanatic and Think me as an Indian Rebel or Pakistan Supporter.I am TRUTH,who is peeping inside first to clean his home from notorious rats,before asking his neighbour to clean theirs.
It is Impossible to believe that such a big trauma was possible without any helping hand from any Indian! My Mind,also do not limit itself to think that there is a possibility that Big Fish,from the Indian Govt., might have acted from their side.
Such a perfect and dexterous planning seems not done without the support from local men.
But,The Punishment or Death Sentence to these Indian is also not the solution.We need to highlight the root causes which is POVERTY leading to CORRUPTION.The Corruption and Poverty are the real foes of India which is letting it down killing its people.Poverty ridden Indians,to sustain themselves,take bribery leading to corruption and sometimes this bribe comes from Anti-Indians Militants in order to nourish their insurgency.Sometimes,The Basic needs of shelter and Home for the militants are provided by Poor Indians for some lilliputian amount of cash.Just think,If we were so self-sufficient and our people so wealthy that they didnt need any money from wrong sources,would these attacks be there in our local dailies? Certainly Not.

So What a Common MAN of INDIA is supposed to do ?

This is most sought of question of a single common man.So Let me suggest to IMPORTANT and POWERFUL tanks to bring some change in the system.
First is RIGHT TO INFORMATION-
An Act to provide for setting out the practical regime of right to information for citizens to secure access to information under the control of public authorities, in order to promote transparency and accountability in the working of every public authority, the constitution of a Central Information Commission and State Information Commissions and for matters connected therewith or incidental thereto.
RTI is an immense powerful tool to curb bribery and corruption and I suggest the common man to use it whenever u see anyone giving or taking the Bribe.

Second is SECTION 49-O
Did you know that there is a system in our constitution, as per the 1969 act, in section "49-O" that a person can go to the polling booth, confirm his identity, get his finger marked and convey the presiding election officer that he doesn't want to vote anyone!
Yes such a feature is available, but obviously these seemingly notorious leaders have never disclosed it. This is called "49-O".
Why should you go and say "I VOTE NOBODY"... because, in a ward, if a candidate wins, say by 123 votes, and that particular ward has received "49-O" votes more than 123, then that polling will be cancelled and Will have to be re-polled.Not only that, but the candidature of the contestants will be removed and they cannot contest the re-polling, since people had already expressed their decision on them.
This would bring fear into parties and hence look for genuine candidates for their parties for election. This would change the way, of our whole political system... it is seemingly surprising why the election commission has not revealed such a feature to the public

If these two things are known to the public,then It will be impossible for the Vampire named Corruption to play the Country under its arms.Then ONLY,we can stop India to die a pathetic death and make ourselves free from any terror.
JAI HIND.