Punjab Police = NYPD?! WTF!!

Surprised at the title? I was too, when I saw the motto of the New York Police Department. Either the NYPD or the Punjab police have stolen their motto from one of them. Why? Let's see. NYPD's tag-line -----> Help us help you Punjab Police's Tag-line----> Help us to help you Can it get any more funny? It can...'cause I burst out laughing in the middle of the Subway station, garnering looks of bewilderment from my fellow passengers. I could actually hear them going in their heads, "This Indian with long hair has gone bonkers!!" As if this weren't tragedy enough, as soon as we exited the subway and made our way to the sightseeing agents, it started raining. Seriously, within 5 minutes of us talking to that person, it started raining, and not just raining, POURING!! Though, that agent gave me more reason to laugh....his name was Innocent....Yes, innocent. It isn't, obviously, spelled that way, but it did sound that way!! Well, the comedy wasn't over yet. Since we had a lot of time to kill, seeing as the rain was nowhere ready to stop, and we were in the Theater District, we decided to watch a movie. Now, I wanted to watch Ice Age 3D, but Dad put his foot down on animation movies. So, we decided to watch another movie instead. The movie, 'The Ugly Truth', looked to be promising in the first fifteen minutes (after the trailers, which took 15 minutes as well). But I think the Movie Gods were out to punish Dad for not letting me see Ice Age 3D......The movie's reel melted. It actually MELTED!! Like as in Pffft! And we could see the remnants of the destroyed reel on the screen. I even took a photo and will upload it as soon as I get my own Lappie...It was hilarious!! Well, since the rain didn't stop, we came back home and I am now typing this....We didn't get to see anything worthwhile, but it was a great fun!! w00t! Bikram

Hum Chale Umreeka!!

This past month has been a flurry of activities for me. As much as I have been free ever since the Boards, I think, this month has made up for it. Finally, the time did come for me to pack my bags and make the final journey (at least for this year) across my driveway, onto the road and into the Taxi. The packing in itself was a Herculean task in itself. The bags were overweight and there was still stuff to go in. Dad and I were totally in a fix as to how we will be able to manage stuffing everything inside the suitcases. After a serious round of packing, weighing, unpacking, rescheduling and re-packing, we were able to finally make the hit; but not before my back took a serious hit. It's still aching!! Well, the taxi was great, and all the bags were put into the boot. We made it to Delhi in time, after we were 2 hours behind schedule. My apologies to my mates for not being able to meet y'all... Well, once we reached Delhi at around 1pm, the round of 'family meetings' began in full earnest. Seriously, I think the God of Eating made these family reunions in a fit of madness. I am sure He must be sitting in the Heavens and enjoying us poor lowlings being stuffed to death by our aunts with the proverbial, "Beta, bas thoda sa aur." and, "Abhi khaya hi kya hai? Aap to kuch le hi nahi rahe..." I am not joking when I say that I was bursting to the seams by the time I entered the airport at 9.30pm. I make no shame in accepting the fact that I had to make an emergency trip to use the services of the Indira Gandhi International Airport - leaving a nice (albeit nasty) token as a farewell gift for my motherland... :P The pre-boarding procedures, I must say, were surprisingly smooth. In no time, we were sitting inside the aircraft. My first glimpse of the Boeing 777 from the inside, and I was awestruck. The seats were heaven and I was on cloud nine......until I was ushered to the back of the plane, that is. It took me no less than half a second to hit back to reality. The seats we were guided to were not only cramped, they were hunched and also non-reclining. Imagine, I spent the next 15.5 hours in those conditions. Again, I think the God of Food played a nasty joke with us in the plane as well. At 1.30 am, we were offered BREAKFAST!! And in those 15.5 hours, we were fed three times!! Ugh! The best thing about the ride was the view from the windows. If I could put it into one word, it would be 'breathtaking'. At cruising altitude, we were above the cloud cover. When I looked outside, it was as if there was a carpet of clouds - so thick that you could actually walk on it. And it was beautiful. We touched down at JFK at 6 am local time......talk about disorientation. Let me tell you, the view of NYC from above doesn't do justice at all. I mean, I thought I would be able to see the Liberty, the highrises and alla that, but I got nothing....nada...zilch! Grrrr.... Well, it is the second day running now, I am in US. It feels great, but I am already missing India....the food, the ambiance, the mad driving - everything! That's all for now Ciao Bikram

Tranformers 2 Review

To be clear, I didn't write this originally. But it must be seen. >>Are there honestly 46 new Transformers in the movie? I have no fucking clue. It's impossible to tell most of them apart except for Optimus and the Racist Twins (there's another yellow Autobot who I constantly thought was Bumblebee). There could be 46, or there could be 12. I honestly would believe 12 if someone had said that. >>What is the status of the Transformers at the beginning of the film? The Autobots have joined the military to hunt down the Decepticons. We're told the Decepticons are "doing things," but they appear to be hiding peacefully when the Autobots show up and brutally murder them. >>What? Yeah. The Decepticons aren't apparently doing anything, then the Autobots show up, the Decepticons run for their goddamn lives, and the Autobots hunt them down and brutally murder them. It's kind of weird. >>Why is the U.S. military helping them? Supposedly to help keep the Transformers a secret from the public. Although since the climax of the last film was a massive firefight involving 50-foot robots and took place over five miles of downtown Los Angeles and the beginning of this film wrecks several miles of Shanghai, China, they seem to be incredibly shitty at their job. >>How does the U.S. military help them? Well, not at all, actually. They just kind of come along with guns and stuff, and act like they're going to help, but the Autobots do all the work. >>Why is the U.S. military in this movie at all, then? Because Michael Bay has a huge erection for jets and tanks and aircraft carriers and considers giant robots only a necessary evil for the film. At least 15 full minutes of the film's 150-minute run time is nothing but footage of jets and tanks and planes without any robots or actual action whatsoever. >>How is Sam Witwicky dragged back into the fight? Well, he finds a fragment of the Allspark shard. You know, the Allspark that he spent all last movie being told he shouldn't give to Megatron, but when he gave it to Megatron, it killed Megatron. That one. Anyways, the shard makes the Beef see symbols and act like more of an spaz than usual. >>So the Decepticons want the shard? Why? Uh... to bring Megatron back to life? >>What? That's what they said. >>But the Allspark killed Megatron in the first movie. Yes. >>...and now it can also bring him back to life. It's very powerful, this Allspark. >>Uh-huh. So what's their plan to get it? They send a small R/C car who talks like Joe Pesci in Casino to get it. >>Shouldn't they have sent Starscream or somebody? Look, there's another Allspark shard and they got that one anyways, so it doesn't matter. >>Well, then why do they give a shit about Sam? The symbols. In his head. That the shard of the Allspark gave him. >>They weren't in the other shard? Apparently not. >>So how do the Decepticons plan to get the symbols, I guess? Well, the Decepticons have very cunningly created a hot chick robot who they enrolled in the same college and put in the same astronomy class as Sam. And they made her a huge slut. >>Wait. Waiting. >>There's a slutty Decepticon? Yeah, she's a real ho. The Decepticons apparently have an incredibly powerful slut-making program, because she has it down, man. Anyways-- >>Didn't Sam touch the shard and get the symbols stuck in his head on his first day of college? Yes. >>So the Decepticons made a slutty robot to attend his college and enrolled her in classes and put her in on-campus housing just in case Sam ended up being important at some point in the future? Apparently. It was an elaborate plan, but it sure paid off. >>How so? Well actually, not at all. The slut-bot made out with him for a little bit then immediately tried to kill him, neither for any apparent motive or gain. >>It sounds preposterous. Doesn't matter, because the Decepticons use the shard piece they do have to resurrect Megatron! He's back! Ooo! Scary! >>Why is this scary? All he wanted was the Allspark, and now it's gone. ...because he has a boss! He's called the Fallen, because he's so evil! He has an evil plan to use a machine on Earth to blow up the sun and make energon! Or something! It's not very clear. >>Now you're just making shit up as you go along, aren't you? Best not to think too much about it. Anyways, the symbols in the Beef's head are a map to where this machine exists, so the hunt is on and Sam shortly is captured by other, less slutty Decepticons in one of the many instances where Bumblebee inexplicably abandons the Beef so he can conveniently be in trouble. Then a robot called the Doctor who speaks gibberish with a German accent shoves things up Shia's nose and gets the symbols. >>That's that, then, right? The Decepticons win? No! Because Optimus Prime saves Sam before they cut off his head, which has another treasure inside! >>Really? What is that? No one really bothers to explain this, actually. Suffice to say, the Decepticons continue to want Sam. Oh, then Optimus Prime fights three Decepticons at once and dies. >>Where the hell were the other Autobots during this fight? I don't know. They were with him before the fight, but then they disappear and show up right after he dies. But they appear sad about Optimus dying. Marginally. I mean, they don't get any screen time or dialogue to convey any feelings or anything, but there's some sad music playing for a little bit afterwards. I assume this means the robots that are off-screen are grieving. >>Well, if one shard brought Megatron back to life, can't Sam just use his shard piece to resurrect Optimus? Yes. He could. >>... ... >>Well? He doesn't. >>Why not? I'm not sure exactly. >>Then what the hell does he do? He decides get those symbols that were in his head translated to figure out what the Fallen's up to. >>Which Autobot does the translating? Err... none of them. Actually, it's John Turturro. >>What. The fuck. Yeah, since he was laid off from his super-secret government agent job, he now works in a NY deli and runs a super-popular Transformers conspiracy theory website. Like ya do. >>And why couldn't an Autobot translate these symbols? Because Bumblebee is mute and the Racist Twins are poor black robots from the slums of Cybertron who never learned how to read. It's a sad commentary on Cybertronian society. Like The Wire, actually. >>Where the hell are the other Autobots? I don't know. Away. They seem to be unable to be reached. They're probably grieving about Optimus still. Clearly, John Turturro is the reasonable solution >>So Turturro translates the symbols. No, that would be silly. He does, in an incredibly bizarre series of connect-the-dots, lead them to Jetfire, an elderly and deceased Transformers whose corpse is hanging out in the Air & Space Museum. >>What good is he dead?! Ah! Remember the shard? Sam uses it to bring Jetfire back to life! >>Not Optimus? No! This way, Sam can get the symbols translated... so he can, er... find the ancient machine... that can, uh... possibly bring Optimus back to life. >>You have to fucking be kidding me. Moving on! Jetfire teleports everyone to Egypt, including some of the missing Autobots -- >>Wait, what? Teleports? Yes, teleports. >>Transformers don't teleport. Jetfire does. >>But -- wait a second, he's a fucking jet. He could fly everybody to Egypt, right? And that would make perfect sense for both the character and the franchise! Well, I guess so. But he chooses not to. The point is Jetfire teleports them all to Egypt where he explains that there used to be 7 or 8 Primes, and they traveled around the galaxy blowing up suns for energon. But they never did it on planets with life. Well, they had set the machine up on Earth and not noticed all the life running around, and one of the Primes just said fuck it, let's do it anyways. This was evil, so they called that Prime the Fallen and beat the shit out of him although he escaped. >>Okay... So that other mysterious reason that the Decepticons wanted Sam's brain? It's because it contains some very vague clues about the Matrix of Leadership, which is the device that turns on the sun-exploding machine. The Fallen needs the Matrix to blow up the sun and get his Energon. >>Hold on. That's what the Matrix of Leadership does in the movie? Yes. Works the sun-exploding machine. >>I'm fuzzy on how "Leadership" covers that. I didn't name it. But it does sound a little nicer than "Matrix of Blowing Up the Goddamn Sun." If I may continue, in order to protect the Earth, the 6-7 other Primes hid the Matrix on Earth and made a tomb with their own bodies. Isn't that cool? >>... ... >>No. No it is not. If they wanted to protect Earth, why did they leave the Matrix on the planet? They're a space-faring race, they could have hid it anywhere in galaxy! Second of all, what the fuck does making a tomb of their own bodies do? Shouldn't they have stayed alive to protect the Matrix? Or finish off the Fallen? Or just not die and leave Earth and the entire Transformer race in jeopardy? Uh... >>And why hide the Matrix at all? Don't they need Energon to survive? Didn't they say they go to other lifeless planets? These idiot Primes just doomed their whole species for no fucking reason whatsoever! No wonder the Decepticons are so pissed. ...ahem. Eventually, Sam and crew find the Matrix, which instantly crumbles into dust. Sam puts the dust in a sock because he thinks it will bring Optimus back to life. >>Grr. What follows is the most spectacular part of the movie, as Sam and Mikaela try to run the several miles back to the military camp during a massive Decepticon attack where the military has dropped Optimus Prime's corpse. >>Why is that awesome? They could drive back in one of the Autobots and be there in a minute or two. They don't do that. >>What? They walk. >>Of course they do. And I assume the Autobots just mysteriously disappear again until a second before a Decepticon is about to kill Sam. Yes. Exactly. >>I am already incredibly sick of this movie, and I'm just typing questions about it. Sam resurrects Optimus, Optimus kills the Fallen, end of story, right? Pretty close. Sam dies, though. >>Really? Yeah, for a little while. But then the Transformers in heaven send him back because he still has work to do. >>Fuck you. I'm serious. >>Fuck you. There's no way. It's true. The 6-7 Primes are there in the clouds like Mufasa's head in The Lion King, and tell Sam he's awesome and he needs to live again so he can bring Optimus back to life. >>I may be ill. Then Jetfire appears out of nowhere and rips out his own heart right in front of Optimus to give him his elderly old robot powers. This makes Optimus into a flying badass who defeats the Megatron and Starscream and the Fallen in a little less than two minutes. After the last 30 minutes of the movie have been nothing but explosions -- not all of which have any obvious causes -- it's a bit disappointing. >>Anything else you want to add? Well, only that although Sam jams the Matrix of Leadership into Optimus Prime's chest to resurrect him, a Decepticon takes it out like 10 seconds later and Optimus is fine. Just a little weird, is all. >>Can you give me any reason I would want to see this film in theaters? I can't answer every question, man. >>Why does Sam's mom buy and consume a pot brownie? Well, Sam's mom was in a coma for the last 30+ years, which explains how she had never heard of marijuana, and why she didn't understand the consequences of eating it even after her husband specifically told her it was a pot brownie (Sam was unfortunately conceived and born during this period). A better question is why any college student in America would be selling pot brownies at an on-campus bake sale, let alone to a middle-aged woman. >>A lot was made of how Shia the Beef's hand injury was written into the film. How was this done? Well, sometimes Shia had a huge bandage on his hand, and sometimes he didn't. >>That doesn't sound "written in" at all. Well, no actual words are used to explain it. It might be more accurate to say it "shows up sometimes." >>Why would a robot need to fart, pee, or vomit? And why would it need testicles? Michael Bay does not understand what a robot is. >>What is the point of the character of Sam's college roommate, and why the fuck does he stay for the entirety of the movie? I have no clue. He's not comedy relief, because that's covered by 90% of the Transformers themselves. He technically leads the Beef to John Turturro, but surely there could have been another way to do that. Besides, Turturro just leads them to Jetfire anyways. It's all extraneous. >>Why can only a Prime kill the Fallen? Why can Jetfire teleport? Why can the Fallen wave a staff and make shit fly around? Why do actual cars and Autobots get sucked into Devastator's maw, but John Turturro and that other kid can run around? Because... because FUCK YOU, that's why. >>Can you explain Megan Fox's appeal? Yes. She looks like a porn star and has the same acting talent as one, yet for some reason she makes mainstream movies. This tonal disconnect is what's so appealing about her. >>If you had to pick a single scene that exemplifies Michael Bay's utter disdain for story and continuity, what would it be? When five Decepticons sink to the bottom of the ocean to retrieve Megatron's corpse. A submarine tracks five "subjects" going down, and when they get there, one of the Decepticons is killed to give parts to Megatron. 5 -1 +1 = 5, right? No, because the sub somehow tracks "six" subjects coming up. Not only is this very basic math, this is the simplest of script errors. It could not possibly have been more than one page apart in the script. And yet Michael Bay either didn't care to notice or didn't give a fuck. "Math? Math is for pussies. My movies are about shit blowing up, man." >>Could you sum up the film in one line of its dialogue? "I am standing directly beneath the enemy's scrotum." Thanks to Abbey for pointing this to me.... :)

Further down the road, looking back at the path...

Okay, so this is a long time in coming, and I know I promised this a while back, here it goes… The last two years of my highschool have been a total blast. And the entire credit goes to, as Suparna Ma’am would put it, us bunch of ‘junglees’. The XI-B of our time is, undoubtedly, the best Bhavans has ever had. No where can we find a group of people with talent so abound, that we know not how to utilize the overabundance. We do, however, proudly declare that academics is one area where we need to kick a bit, but hey, we can’t be good at everything, can we. So, let me begin, in Ibadat style, but with a Bikram-tadka, to describe some of our class’s best known personalities – the ones that I am proud to call my friends. And how can I begin writing without adding a DISCLAIMER? Here it is… The following pieces are written with the best of intentions at heart. Please do not take offence at the ‘candid’ statements made here. If I fail to mention your name anywhere, please attribute it to my silliness, ‘cause in no way are you any less important than those mentioned here – you’re just a little bit more ‘normal’. ;)

Avneet Hira

the one on the right

I have to start with this one. The first day in class, she (or rather, he) was a blast. And she has continued to be one throughout. Even though her comments were ‘misquoted’ by a certain few, we were able to sort things out between ourselves, and I was able to convince her that I am NOT a gentleman… :P Seriously, though, she is a dear; one of the few people in my life whom I can undoubtedly put in my never-to-forget-best-friends’ category. Our ‘candid’ talks about anything and everything under the sun have been a pleasure, and it is great to know that she has you back.

Saurabh Bhatia

the one on the right

It’s strange. ‘Cause when I thought that I’d write about him, I thought I had a lot to say but am speechless (wordless) now. His first day in class, I remember, he tried to one-up Rakesh Sir and was brutally snubbed. That set the tone for the following years to come where I got to know that nothing pierces his thick skin. And he remains as obstinate as ever. He is an enigma. I have had the (dis)pleasure of knowing him at his worst, and occasionally, at his best. His slapstick sense of humor is hilarious, but as always, he forgets that slapstickness (I don’t think that is a word, but what the heck!) can be so annoying at times – especially in public. Never having a penny for himself, this person is like a life to our class. His antics are the sole entertainment for both us, and the teachers. I quote a certain teacher when she said, “Isn’t Saurabh Bhatia here today? No wonder it is so quiet!” That describes him well. Loud, sometimes obnoxious, but in the end, a sweetheart.

Ishita Bhatnagar

on the right

“Ishita, bas karo pleeeeeeeeeze!” This is the first thing that comes to my mind when I think about her. Gosh, the look on her face was priceless when Suparna Ma’am said that, and so was it on that occasion when she called me a Bitch in front of Inderpreet Ma’am. Ishita is one person that you can never feel bored with. Her sense of humour is out of this world, and by that, I mean it in a positive sense. She is the always-ready-to-have-fun kind of a girl who would rather dance than read. After all, we’re ‘Phijically Phit!”

Nikita Dobhal

the only girl in this pic

What do I say about her? She is the silent observer of our group. In the start, she was always busy talking with Aseem, so she never had anything to say to us. Later, she was busy thinking, so she never had anything to say to us. But, I will always treasure our Physics class chat sessions that helped me put my slumber at bay. The days you did not come, I did actually fall asleep. The best part about her is that even though she will not say much, but she is fiercely loyal. You can be rest assured that she will be there to lend a shoulder to you when you need it the most and least expect it.

Ibadat Sahney

Ahem! Ahem! She reminds me of….well…me. I mean, if I were to be a female, I would surely be like Ibadat. I don’t think there is another person on this planet who would understand my kinda jokes. In her words, “We are always in sync with each other.” And I can’t put it any better. I will start a sentence, and I won’t ever have to finish it, ‘cause Ibu will already be laughing. Same with me… She mentioned the car-ride in her blog, and I need to mention that here as well. Ibu, my car’s axle still squeaks!! And I can still see Angad holding his head in the back-seat!! LOL

Aseem Kharbanda

I don’t think there has been another person who will be like him, ever. Sometimes open, sometimes all clammy, he is a person you need to be empathetic around. I always enjoy his company and especially the naughty flirting that we engaged in. LOL. Those were simply awesome. Remember? At Avneet’s place…lol He is got amazing dancing skills, a great personality and, I am not afraid to admit, a killer smile. A man of few words, he leaves others speechless as well. But, a true friend nonetheless.

Tushar Khanna

“Ma’am, please…ONE MINUTE!!” I don’t think I’ll ever forget these antics of his. As soon as the exam’s countdown timer reads ‘30 minutes to go’, you can be sure to hear Tushar frantically writing, calculating, trying to organize his uncooperative sheaf of papers and trying to reason with the God of Time, aka the invigilator, that there is still time left. Another thing that I will not forget about him will be his ginormous SNEEZE! I swear, you can use the sound energy to propel a turbine! I can still imagine it….the class, sitting all quiet and concentrating on the coursework. Meenu Ma’am trying her level best to teach us some of the BS she calls Maths and at the same time scolding Arijit, and BOOM goes Tushar. The whole class jumps two feet in the air, Arijit breathes a sigh of relief at been rescued from the scolding, and Meenu Ma’am doesn’t know whether to laugh, continue scolding Arijit, go back to trying to teach us, or start scolding Tushar now. Priceless!

Ankur Agnihotri

I can’t say anything here. I need to go read H C Verma first.

Mashaara Bhatia

“Guys, pleeeeze! Kya hum ab bas nahi kar sakte?!” Ever seen a cute little cuddly bear? Mashaara reminds of that. She is our own little ‘little-Mummy’ (the big-Mummy is Shrestha). She is the quintessential girl next door. Very emotional and wears her heart on her sleeves, but I guess, that is her charm. A gem of a person, though.

Shrestha Padhy

second from right, in the centre

Well, well, well. Our, Miss goody-two-shoes. Usually, when this phrase is used for someone, it is derogatory in nature. But for our dear ole’ Shrestha, it is a compliment. Her cute little (everything about her is ‘little’ – little hands, little her, little eyes, little handwriting) smile is so endearing that you wanna go do the cuddly-poo (the coogly woogly woogshie) with her. And although she wants to do the same to Arijit, I am sure there is a line waiting for her as well.

Arijit Chakraborti

Wait; let me get my earmuffs first. Have you ever heard those scooters whose silencers have gone bad and the owners refuse to get it repaired ‘cause according to them, it looks hep? That is our Arijit. Even though he has a jewel for a heart, he has it encased in a typical Punjabi-dude prison. I don’t think he has a single Bengali bone in his body. His smile, however oblong, puts one on everyone else’s faces as well and his stupid antics put everyone at ease too. Just loose the dumbbells, mate. They make you walk funny. :P

Angad Singh

I think the only time he ever spoke was when he was called upon to do so, or to criticize our get-togethers, in which, I must say, he himself could be found sitting either glued to his cell-phone or his hand. Even in class, he’d sit in the last seat and one could only hear his bellowing laughter only – a result of sharing a seat with either Varun or Sagar. Yet, his curvaceous figure did give us a nice topic for conversation, eh Ibadat? ;)

Anuraag Verma

I am sure I can imagine Mr. Verma reading through this post and wondering where the freakin’ hell his name is. Rest assured, Anu, I am not going to forget mentioning you. After all, how can I? I don’t think I can ever describe this person in words. His expert sense of sarcasm at the most opportune of times is legendary in the halls of Bhavans. His exemplary skills as a compere, along with Avneet, will be the talk of Bhavan’s for generations. The way they both revolutionized the introduction business with their acts. And let me not begin with his ability in the writing arena. His matter-of-fact, to-the-point, satirical style is famed, as apparent from the number of comments he receives for his blog post. If I were to put together all my comments on this blog, it would make up a comment-list of just one of his post. After all, no ordinary person can write about potatoes and potatis like they were Anu’s aunt and uncle, can they? On a serious note, though, Anuraag, I loved the ‘enlightening’ conversations we had, and continue to have. And I’ll divulge a secret in your honor. I don’t know half the shit I spew forth most of the times. The art is to spew it with conviction. ;)

Tanvi Bindal

the one in pink

Someone, please send her back to kindergarten! Who, in 12th grade, says ‘mujhe nini ayi hai!’ Sometime, Pranshul is easier to understand than her! :P Just kidding…She is a doll. Not the kind that you see kids playing with these days. She is the kind that is still stuck in the yesteryears. I think she forgot to catch up while the rest of us grew up. But let me tell y’all one thing…she can act quite like an adult when the situation demands it…and also, she can sizzle the dance floor even when it is raining. ;)

Ankur Agnihotri (contd)

Dude, I tried reading that damned book. I couldn’t go past the Acknowledgements….. This guy is an all-rounder. Have you ever heard of a jock and a nerd? These are American terms for a sporty person and a studious person, respectively. Ankur, here, is a result of a hybridization experiment between both the species. And, I won’t say anything further. :P

Guys, and gals, these two years that I spent with y’all have been so memorable, I don’t think I can forget them even if I wanted to. Thanks for giving me one of the best experiences of my life. Ciao Bikram

Ode to the Camp

Weary eyed, I arrived at the site. Saw potential friends scamper to become a veteran camper. The day began with a bang, hearing Sahil speak his slang. It cracked me up to see you-know-who already searching for his shoe. We lined up for our track-suits, preparing for grander pursuits. The picture got clicked, I had already become an addict. The night was young, but we were all under dillu’s clung. Even though the guard and everyone else were furious Ghajini woudn’t deter, he was still curious. The sixty seconds to fame was a hard thing to tame. I never got my chance to enrapture everyone into a trance. The trip to Mcleodganj was fun In the end, we had to make a run. We were woefully late making everyone wait. The rock-climbing was exhilarating, let me tell you especially, when the rest of my house was busy visiting the zoo. Mallika raised a huge fuss We absolutely enjoyed – on our way back to the bus. The singing and dancing was electrifying everyone did their best, no lack of trying. The girls set the stage on fire such was their attire. The impromptu jam session was a surprise On space, though, we had to compromise. It was a sticky mess But, everyone enjoyed it, I guess. The nightly sessions continued to them, I won’t allude Some were left in awe, But Arjun only went, “Haw!” The artists came alive others, though, nosedived. Anuj got a whipping So he won’t go to another’s house tripping. Thence came the best part for which we had been waiting right from the start. The long trek finally left us in a wreck. The cooking that was to follow made us gulp and swallow. We did our best, judges decided the rest. Brains were put to test quiz competition was the best. Fateh was a geni-arse all the points he was able to amass. Oh, don’t get me started on what came next it left us all perplexed. We wasted a day doing nought ten hours of torture, left us distraught. The journey back demands a mention the Chenab girls relieved all the tension. I still state to this day, Shaurya and I are not gay. The next day we got to relax as we reached the camp’s climax. It was the camp-fire night which was to be lit hot and bright. It was a night I won’t forget Amith, I am sure, won’t also regret. The dance was glowing, and the booze was also flowing. And now, the bags are packed, all lined up for show I still don’t wanna leave, so does everyone else I know. Eyes are misty and wet, the time is not right, not yet. These past days have been heaven, the week should have had more than its seven. It just doesn’t seem fair to say adios to our lair. I look back to our fun-filled times all our mischiefs and our crimes. Even though we have said our good-byes, I will always treasure those days, looking at the skies.

Sangharsh

This story was written after I interviewed one member of the homosexual community for my project in eleventh grade. A/N: I would like to thank Sharon for her wonderful editing skills that made this story what it is. Thanks. Disclaimer: This story deals with rape, though not explicitly. Yet, caution is advised. The names, places and events have all been altered to make this story fictional. So, technically, it has no bearing to any person, living or dead.

Sangharsh

Karan detested the road he was about to turn into. He hated it with a passion, especially at this hour of the night. He didn’t despise the road, per se; he was rather wary of the scum that dwelled in the shadows of the street at night. These were the kind of people that made his stomach churn. To Karan’s utter misfortune, he had to travel through that road every night. His schedule was such, that it didn’t permit an alternative route. He went to college by day and a late afternoon job paid his bills. By the time his shift was over, it was always close to midnight. Karan would have never had a problem with travelling through that road, after all, scores of other people walked through it all day. He would have never even developed a phobia of the dark places as well, had it not been for the road and the kind of men that it hosted while the sun slept. He never knew how or when they came to know about it, but they made him pay hell. Karan had hidden his secret of being gay very well up until that fateful night when the bullies of that street, the ones that live on drugs, booze and sex, confronted him. Karan remembered that night as though it happened yesterday, even though it has been two months since the incident. Ironical, isn’t it, a road named after the man who was the champion of peace and non-violence could hold such beasts on it and leave a man totally broken. M.G. Road, or Mahatma Gandhi Road, did just that to Karan. He was returning from his evening dance class and had met a friend. Time flew by and he never realized that it had gotten so late. Karan bid a hasty farewell to his friend and entered the road that he would never forget after that night. Had he known what was in store for him, the pain and suffering he would have to endure after that, he would have avoided that road at all costs. Winter was at its peak, being mid-January. Hugging his overcoat tightly around him, Karan had kept cursing the fact that he had lost track of time. Moving as fast as he could, he made his way down M.G. Road. He could hear shouts and jeers coming from a group of rowdy men near a secluded alley leading away from the road. This had made him move even faster, knowing well enough that it was best to avoid those people. But fate had had other things in mind for him and those men did not mind not avoiding him. Karan heard an insult, an abuse aimed at his mother, hurled at him. Ignoring it, he kept his pace when a force from behind suddenly shoved him onto the wall of a nearby shop. A voice Karan recognized threw another abuse at him. It was his college-mate Ravi’s voice. The words that came next from Ravi’s mouth filled Karan with dread. “Hey, this is the chhakka from my college. He’s in his first year.” “Is he? He does look a bit fem. Must be gay as well,” quipped another guy standing on Ravi’s left. Looking towards Karan and with a voice filled with menace, he unzipped his pants and said, “Show me how you like it, cocksucker!” ******** “Karan! Karan! Are you all right?” Varun’s concerned voice filled the empty street, the entrance to M.G. Road. Karan was down on the pavement, convulsing with what appeared to be a seizure. Varun shook the boy, trying hard to bring the boy back into the world of sanity. It took some work and water, obtained from Varun’s bottle, to bring Karan out of his fit. Once Karan realized where he was and what had happened, he turned into a sobbing mess, hugging his knees and burying his head in them. “Did you relive it again? Varun asked. Not waiting for a reply as he already knew the answer, Varun continued, “God Karan! How long has it been? Two months? You can’t live like this, dude. I’m taking you to Dr. Gupta first thing tomorrow.” “No,” was Karan’s hasty reply. “I’m not hearing any…” “I said, NO!” Karan shouted, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. “All she’ll do is tell my parents and pester me to go to the police.” “She’ll be doing the right thing then. You should go to the police.” “And what good would that do?” Karan asked sarcastically. “It’d just add more people to the list of those blackmailing me. The only difference would be that the ones in uniform can ruin everything. Ravi and his gang, I can deal with. Not the police.” “You’re obviously not dealing with this the right way, Karan. I can’t stand seeing you like this anymore.” “Varun, right now I need a friend more than anything else. Please be a good one and drop this topic. It’s quite late, you should go home. As a matter of fact, so should I.” Karan got up and brushed the dust from his clothes. He didn’t notice the look of exasperation and pity laced with defeat washing over Varun’s face. Avoiding looking into his friend’s eyes, Karan said a quick goodbye and turned to enter M.G. Road. With a deep breath and a firm jaw, Karan prepared himself for what lay in between his home and himself – The dark road and its shadowed people. ******** Karan entered his home, hoping against hope that his parents had gone to sleep. But lady luck had not been favouring him lately and he found himself wrapped in his mother’s arms, as she had been waiting for her son with dinner on the table. “Go wash your hands and face while I warm up the food.” She broke the hug with a loving smile, a look that only a mother can give to her offspring. The smile was swiftly washed off Shalini’s face when she saw the condition Karan was in. He had a swollen lower lip and a cut on his eyebrow. His shirt, which was usually white, was tousled and dirty. “My God! What happened to you?” she gasped. “Nothing,” Karan replied nonchalantly, shrugging his mother off by turning his back to her. “This doesn’t appear as nothing to me,” Shalini said sternly, yet her voice dripped with concern. “Have you been in a fight?” “Ma, can you please drop it? Karan pleaded. “It’s nothing that I can’t handle.” He turned to go to his room. “And please don’t tell Dad,” he said over his back. ******** “Excuse me, could you please tell me where L-67 is?” Varun asked a roadside vendor. “Straight from here and then the second block on the left,” the vendor said, pointing down the road. Reaching his destination, Varun knocked on the door. He asked for Mr. Rahul Sharma when the door was opened. Varun was led into a nice spacious house and they passed a living room to enter a workroom. Rahul Sharma, a man in his mid-thirties, was sitting behind a large desk. He greeted Varun with a warm smile. “Welcome to Dost. What can we do for you?” Varun shook the man’s offered hand and took a seat. “I’ll get straight to the point,” Varun said nervously. Fidgeting with his wrist-watch, he continued, “There’s this friend of mine that needs Dost’s help…” ******** “Hey Karan! What’s up dude?” “Hi Varun,” Karan said hi-fiving Varun. “Dude, I want to take you somewhere.” “Where?” Karan asked in a confused tone. “Just come na, you’ll get to know where when we reach.” ******** “I can’t believe you did this to me Varun!” exclaimed Karan. He was indignant. “You went behind my back and told everything to a complete stranger? I thought you were my friend, I trusted you for God’s sake!” “Karan, these people can help you,” Varun tried to reason with him. “But why? I specifically told you that I do not want this getting out. Why did you break my trust?” “I can’t continue to see you like this for fuck’s sake!” Varun shouted, losing his cool. “I see you in turmoil night and day. It tears me apart to know that you’re in so much pain and that I can do nothing to help you.” He was in tears by now. “I care for you too much to let you suffer. The way you’re dealing with this will only make you sad. Karan, I am in love with you and I want to see you happy.” “I…I don’t know what to say,” Karan stammered. Out of all the things he had thought were even possible, his best friend declaring his love wasn’t one of them. “Don’t say anything. Just go with this. Please. If you have ever considered me anything more than just a friend, let me help you.” Acceding to Varun’s request, Karan entered the N.G.O’s office for a meeting with Rahul Sharma. Dost was a Non Governmental Organisation working for the emancipation of homosexuals in India. It had a helpline wing that provided people with professional help like psychologists, psychiatrists, lawyers and sometimes even friends. Varun had contacted them in hope of getting Karan out of the clutches of the shadowed people at M.G. Road. Ravi and his friends had taken compromising pictures of Karan that night. They regularly used extortion for force him into embezzlement and even sexual gratification after that incident two months back. All this was wrecking havoc with Karan’s psyche, which was on the verge of a complete collapse. When Karan told Rahul all the details, he was enraged. Of all the cases he handled, non-consensual sex really ruffled his feathers. If there was one thing he could not stand, it was one person taking advantage of another. He resolved to do everything in his power to sort everything out and tried to assure a disturbed Karan that everything will be all right. Dost’s team handled the situation perfectly. Ravi and his friends were jailed for extortion when they were caught red-handed by police officers known to Dost. When they tried to influence the police officers with Karan’s pictures as well as money, Dost’s lawyers ensured that the charges of libel and bribery were also added to the list of charges against them. The lawyers also ensured that Karan was not booked under any offence as, according to law, gay sex was a criminal offence. It took a lot of string-pulling, but they were successful in the end. Varun had been a pillar for Karan right from the start of this ordeal and he continued to offer unconditional support to the distressed boy in his times of need. Karan finally acknowledged his feelings for Varun and they started dating shortly after Ravi and his goons were tried for the charges. They were sentenced to five years in prison. ******** “Hey babe. How are you holding up?” Varun asked. “Quite fine and all thanks to you,” Karan replied. It had been a month since Karan had started seeing a psychologist, a personal friend of Rahul’s. The therapy sessions had helped Karan immensely. He was no longer afraid of the dark as long as he was with someone. Alone, he still had problems, but he was working on it. His nightmares had virtually stopped rearing their ugly head and so had the seizures. His health improved considerably and his face showed it, becoming more vibrant. But above all, he now had a companion to share everything with. “Ready?” Varun asked his boyfriend. “As I can ever be,” Karan replied with conviction. Together, hand in hand, they walked onto the road where it had all started in the shadowed corners of the night – M.G. Road. ********

They're here, they're queer and they're Proud of it....

Supporting Link

The Delhi High Court, in a landmark judgement on Wednesday, read down the Victorian era barbaric law that criminalized homosexual acts between consenting individuals. Ever since this news came out, there has been a deluge of opinion on all forms of media - print, electronic, etc. Why should I remain behind? I will talk about my opinion, and those of some that I have been (un)fortunate enough to come across. Let's start with my views. People who are close to me would know that I welcomed this news with a BIG smile and a sense of immense satisfaction. It was a long time in coming and I, for one, am glad that it came. Just the night before, on Tuesday, a cousin, two of our friends and myself were sitting together and discussing this issue and I made a statement that it will take quite some time for 377 to be changed or better yet, repealed. Imagine my surprise when I woke up the next morning and read about it on the internet. It is not a hidden fact that I am sympathetic to the gay community. I have had a close interaction with them, what with doing a research project on the issue a few years back. In the process, I met some members of the community and let me tell you, it was a truly heart-rendering experience. The way they have to live - constantly in fear...of being outted, of being blackmailed, of being encountered with bigotry - it just hits your heart. I was literally moved to tears, along with the person whom I was interviewing, when he recounted the humiliation he had to endure at the hands of the police just to ensure that his family didn't find out about his sexuality and also to keep himself out of jail. It was horrifying to learn of the incidents that occur in the close confines of the four walls that make the police chowkis. And yet, I encounter such hatred, indifference and ignorance towards the homosexuals. Let's take some of them.... 1. It is western... People, get your fact correct and then come back and rant. The only thing western in this country related to homosexuals is Section 377 of the IPC which was introduced by the British! 2. It was never a part of the Indian culture.... Beep. Wrong answer. If you take the time to read ancient texts, you'll find mention of the LGBTs all around. Even murals and paintings have depictions of them. 3. It is unnatural.... First of all, who are we to define what is natural or not. Did dear Mummy Nature come into each and every one of our ears and whisper that she doesn't like Jack and Joe or Jill and Jenny having sex? Next, if homosexuality is prevalent in other species of animals, are we humans so naive to think that we will not have a few of them? 4. It is against the Will of God... Read above reply....Also, these so-called Wills were written by man himself....God never graced us with His presence to enlighten us of His sexual preference, or what He likes to watch sitting up there. (P.S. I am not an atheist. I am just pissed at the self-proclaimed messengers of God) 5. They are perverts, paedophiles.... Excuse me? This is like branding all Muslims terrorists just because some of them blow themselves up. Please, rise up stereotyping. 6. If it is legalaized, more and more people will chose to be gay and the human race will come to an end.... I am not kidding! I actually read this freakin' comment on Yahoo! when it asked for responses. As if the first part is not outrageous enough, the person has the stupidity to go on and predict the doom of mankind...makes me laugh. So, it is NOT a choice. I repeat, being a homosexual is not a choice. One can't help who he/she is attracted to. Yes, acting upon that attraction is a choice. But please, who wants to live as a hermit? Moreover, who in their right mind would CHOOSE to be gay when half the population is out for your blood? 7. I see a couple coming in my direction, I will run...I don't want to be hit upon. Seriously, dude...get a life. First of all, no self-respecting homosexual will hit on you, hot or not. Also, as you said, they are a COUPLE. Why would they even give you a second look. All this is just the top-soil. I haven't even reached the crust, let alone the mantle. Seriously, as I said to a friend of a friend on Facebook - 'It is very easy to sit in our air-conditioned rooms and pass judgement on people you have, or will, never me(e)t. Put yourselves in their shoes and then you'll realize what they have to go through.' My funda is simple. Live and let live. Homosexuals have the right to live as they want. They have the right to privacy in their own bedrooms and now they have got it, it should be no one's concern what they do, or not do, in their own bed. Yeah, if they try and force you into it, do what I would do - sock them in the balls. Till then, keep shut and just let them enjoy their lives. After all, don't we enjoy ours......*whistles at the next hot girl who passes by* Ciao Bikram

I am sorry.....

This blog post is for a special someone (who knows who they are) whom I need to apologize to. I had promised them something and I failed to deliver on it and for that I am deeply, truly, from-the-heart SORRY!! I assure you that it won't be repeated and the overlook was purely unintentional. I would never, ever miss out on a promise on purpose and more so when it was made to you. I hope you will forgive me, Love and HUGS Bikram

It's been loong....

...since I wrote anything here. Seriously, I never thought that maintaining a blog could be such a big hassle. Nevertheless, I have taken up this task and I fully intend to continue it. Where do I begin? This has always been a big problem for me. I never know where to begin from. Take today, for example. I finally got my gears together and commenced packing, but when I actually got down to the act of it, I was lost as to where should I begin....I had no idea what should go in first, or will I need this in the coming month or not. On one hand, those newly bought shirts were beckoning me to try them out at least once before I left, and on the other, my Mom's advice that do not spoil those shirts before going was ringing in my head. So, I did what I do best - procrastinate. I have taken out the shirts from their store-packaging and sent them for ironing, after which, I will pack them up. I have also made a new list of what all to buy, thereby giving another jolt to Dad. His expression was priceless when I handed over the list to him. I could actually see the wheels in his head chugging into gear and his teeth gritting in frustration as he went over the list. Too bad, Dad, you agreed to send me to US... ;) So, I had the most fun days in June owing to the Camp. Yes people, I went to ANOTHER camp this year....bringing my tally up to a whopping SIX camps!! O.o The whole fiasco before the camp is a tale worthy of telling. You see, Dad has retired, so his contact with Chandimandir Cantt is minimal at best. The dates for the camp had been 18-24th of June and was to be held at Palampur. All fine, and we even confirmed that my name was in the list. Keeping this in mind, I gave a go-ahead to Mom to get her routine medical check-up done. The days leading up to 18th were filled with me driving her from place to place getting all her tests and related work completed. On 17th, just as Mom had been taken away for another round of tests, and I was sitting in her room in the hostpital, Dad gives me a call saying, and I quote, "Beta (Son), the bus has left at 8 o'clock this morning." I am like, WTF?! And that is not all....the camp was being held in Dharamsala instead of Palampur. Heeelooo?! Wasn't my name first in the list? Wasn't I supposed to be informed of this change in itenary? Oh well, Army is a funny organization and I would not like to get started on it.... ;) So, I hurried home, packed up in a jiffy, and went to the Sector 43 bus stand to catch the overnight bus. My adventure camp had just begun!! :D I bought the tickets for the first bus that was going to Dharamsala - a Roadways bus that was so cramped, that even a newborn would have trouble sitting. While we were loading up our luggage under our seats, over our heads, on someone's legs or whereever we could find a place, I saw a nice looking, semi-deluxe bus pull up next to the piece of crap I was sitting in. Two guys from my bus went over to ask that bus's conductor of its destination and I followed. Surprise Surprise! Dharamsala!! I ran over to the ticket teller to check if my crappy ticket could be refunded or not. He gave me such a look that I beat a hasty retreat. But I was not to be defeated by the sardonic expression on a 'duniya-ka-maara' TT. I immediately bought the semi-deluxe bus's ticket, albeit expensive, but worth it. As the buses were about to leave, I went to the crappy one's conductor and handed over my ticket to him in hope that another needy person might want it. I think God was benevoulent that day, what with first informing me on time of the change in schedule, sending me a semi-deluxe bus for the journey and finally in the form of the conductor of that crappy bus who gave me a look and with a sigh refunded 75% of the fare. wOOt!! Thus began my adventure camp....truly adventurous, ain't it? I reached the citty at 5am the next morning and was picked up by an army vehicle on its way to get yougourt for the campers' breakfast. It took us another hour to reach the camp-site. Once there, I caught the first glimpse of my 'mates' for the next week.......and I burst out laughing! There, in front of me, bearing faces as though returned from Hell, were around 20 kids scrambling to find a place in the washroom, brush their teeth, capture a bathroom, and lastly take a crap.....Ah! I hath returned to my favourite summer past-time...... ;) I will not bore y'all with the gory details of the next seven days. Let's just say that they will go down to become the most fun days of my life, just like the previous five camps of mine have. When I returned, though, I was reminded of so many things that we take for granted. Take a few things for example and I am going to list them out.... A nice bathroom......It is a luxury, and many of us don't realize it. Even in the camp, the facilities were quite good, but I was reminded of the previous camps where all we had were shacks. Showers, SOFT WATER, RUNNING WATER and above all - the freedom to take a bath whenever you want to..... A nice, clean toilet.....Ardent campers will agree with me that trenches are certainly not the best place to crap! At least when the they are three days old!! O.o Luckily, in this camp, we had proper toilets, but then again, they were Indian. Also, some intelligent people carried toilet paper with them and threw those in the commode AFTER flushing them......veeery original!! another bunch of specialists thought that by pushing the flushing apparatus too far down would somehow magically make the landmass they just created disappear faster!! No shit sherlock, you just broke the mechanism, and with it, the hopes of the people standing in queue behind you!! Sleep.... I swear to God, if there is one thing that I get pissed off hearing in the camp, it will be these two words - "Fall In". Who does a freakin' fall-in at 5.30 in the morning, when the actual time to report is 7.30?! Oh yeah, the army people! I swear that jawan had a thing against me....why in the living hell would he otherwise sneak up behind me and with all the air in his lungs, blow the whistle with all his might?! Water...... Clean drinking water is a rare commodity. Seriously, is there a freakin' buzzer installed on my water bottle? Whenever I opened it, there would be a horde of kiddos asking in their 'Russel Peters' crappy requesting facial expression' for a sip. And by golly, what a sip they have.....put a Killer Whale to shame! Same goes for any eateries, soft-drinks....anything! All in all, though, the freakin' out we do in the camp can never be compared to anything. It is in a class of its own. Those seven days are worth everything that we go through, the people we meet go on to become life-long friends (at least some of them do) and all-in-all, it is a blast! Worst part is the withdrawal, though....ask me, I am still suffering from it!! I wake up at 6 am and try to listen to those non-existant whistles...I wake up at all times of the night and peek over my comforter, hoping that there ain't any footwear flying around. And each time I get up in the morning, I have this feeling of hope - Yes! I have the bathroom to myself!! Ciao Bikram