This and that

Imagine a dish that you relish the most. Let’s call it Zoso. Now, you are invited for this dinner and informed earlier that you are gonna be served Zoso. At the dinner, you find a carte du jour of lip-smacking, saliva-enticing food, but you see no sign of Zoso. Your host starts serving you. You start eating. The food is good. But, u want the zoso. The voice of the host is no more than a monotonous, irritating hum as you chat over the dinner. U want the zoso. Badly. Desperately. Your patience takes a terrible beating. It gets bruised, harassed. Finally, when your Patience says it can't take any more, closes its eyes and seems to be breathing its last, u see the zoso in front of u!! Your Patience might be dead, but u hardly care anymore.

You take a bite. Nothing short of brilliant. The best you’ve ever tasted. Before you have completed relishing the taste, he snatches the plate from you and throws it out of the window. Nothing else said or done. Plain, horrible silence.

This is how I felt after the Led-Zeppelica show. A group playing Led-Zep, almost ditto – songs, costumes, aura – everything. Dazed and confused, that’s the way, the song remains the same, immigrant song. And then, stairway to heaven. They were playing each note to perfection and were about to begin the solo when the horrible thing happened. Shit, I don’t want to even talk about it. Dear Dean, you are one big .......

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My comp has been running for the past 18 days. One of my comp-sci friends told me that leaving a comp on for a long period of time extends the comp’s lifetime. U know that’s just bullshit. I’m just too lazy to turn it off everyday. *shameless grin*

Bored in class

Me:
On a rock she sat, with drooping eyes
Separating herself from the lies
She thought, "Oh! How time flies?
Shit! My paneer butter masala must be burnt."

Jat:
Time actually did fly
Not just the paneer,
rather [the] house itself was burnt
and so was the baby child
and the husband who was blind.

Me:
You bloody sadist...

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Plagiarised:

And now the dhabas are changing,
new dishes have come and gone,
sometimes when I pass that old madrasi lane,
I still smell it, I can't be wrong.

Standing in those unwashed clothes,
the waiters still call me in there,
oh the way my nostrils burn,
I know that it will be served forever,
what was the worst food of my life.

yeah it was the sambhar of 69,
the sambhar, the sambhar, the sambhar of 69 !!!
Oh yeaaahhhhh
[Source unknown.]

Lord of War

Guns. One of the three g’s that have fascinated men over the ages - the other two being girls and games. It might be the image it conjures, or could be the way it gets stuck up in your throat and releases itself nasally when you pronounce the word.

I remember reading a thriller, the name and the author of which pass my memory right now, in which a politician was assassinated using a rubber bullet. The intricate detail to which the gun was made and the planning was done captivated me. It remains one of the best thrillers I have ever enjoyed. More relevantly, it made me fall in love with guns.

They keep recurring in my dreams. And I can’t give an apposite reason why.

I have heard gun-fire, real gun-fire; gun-fire that goes rattatatatat, with seemingly long pauses and short rats and tats in between. The incident took place half a kilometer away from my house, when an Assam Rifles convoy ‘retaliated’ to the explosion of a bomb. Those who had planted the bomb had run away. In the end, 18 civilians got killed by the one-sided gun-fire. No A.R. personnel received so much as a scratch.

For the first time, I didn’t find guns fun anymore.

Now, a pertinent question, why am I saying all these? There are two reasons-
1.I’m terribly bored to do anything else right now.
2.I just saw this movie, ‘Lord of War’.

The first needs no explanation.

As for the second, the movie (8.3/10) shows the plight of gun-runners and reveals an astonishing, though not really unknown, fact – the real culprits are those who make guns, and those who sell them. It shows a cynical and funny Nicholas Cage in his true elements. But in the same breath, shows the massacre of kids and women and gun-wielding teenagers. That’s not funny. Neither is the fact that the biggest gun-runners are the 5 so-called superpowers who are also the members of the U.N security council, who continue doing it with no repentance and reluctance.

As the protagonist says in the movie, “There are over 550 million firearms in worldwide circulation. That's one firearm for every twelve people on the planet. The only question is: How do we arm the other 11? ”

I don’t like guns anymore.

We are the champions, my friend

The scores:
Leagues:
1-0 vs. Delhi
0-0 vs. Kharagpur
Semis:
0-0 (4-3 in penalties) vs. Mumbai
Finals:
1-0 vs. Delhi

We were thus crowned the footer (known as football or soccer to the world outside) champions after a drought of a long 15 years. Oh boy! what a joy it is to be a part of a gold-winning team and what a pride to be a part of a defence that yielded to none. Delhi, you people were good, that’s why we scored against you, but then just not good enough. The week's stay in Roorkee was fun, inside and outside the field. What with the numerous squabbles and fights and some highly competitive matches in other games too. The only crib I have was the stupidly amateurish and ordinary refereeing. It suddenly made me empathize with players who rattle and punch referees during matches. Whatever. We are the champions, my friend! Let me bask in this well-deserved glory for sometime.

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There’s no place like home. It’s not that I dislike other places. In spite of the dusty and potholed roads, the lack or excess of security, the firings and the mindless explosion of bombs (I missed one by 15 minutes this time!!), the complete absence of night-life, internet connections that make the phrase sound like a misplaced oxymoron (which explains my prolonged absence from the world wide web), current that goes off without a whisper of a warning, there’s something about home that’s missing anywhere else. Perhaps the home-made food, or being able to just loll about without caring a damn about anything (as a manner of speaking). And Manipuri winter is the best I’ve ever experienced, very unlike here where I am literally sweating it out. At least for the nonce, I’m indeed quite happy that the nostalgia in me is dead.

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In hindsight, what a fantastic year it has been for me; just didn’t realize how it whizzed past me at such a neck-breaking speed. It’s been fairly interesting in every way – academically, physically, emotionally. And a perfect climax to boot. Thanks to everyone who have made my life such a joy to live. I am blessed. So, bless everyone who’s reading this and bless everyone who is not.

I don’t believe in making new year resolutions and hence, I haven’t made any. I have a wish-list though and it goes something like this-

• Spend a week in a virgin island (preferably Thailand) with someone who I can spend a week in a virgin island with.
• Spend another week touring Europe.
• Watch a Pink Floyd show – LIVE.
• Get a little more academically inclined. (This is a wish-list, remember?)
• Watch all matches of Italy, Brazil and Argentina during the world-cup (I know I’m thinking a little too ahead, but still)

Sorry to my other wishes that couldn’t make it to the list. I’m bound by constraints here. (‘U’ know what I mean)

O dear, I’m so ready to take the new year by its horns!!