Grad School

Its yo boy kid skilly! Taking a mental dump of some random grad school memories before they fade:

- Spiderman! being a pain in the rear for our boys dave and crew, hiding you-know-what all over campus, before the crescendo at the atrium :) So good to see spiderman still survive, 2 years out
- The one with the forest fire, and Kku coming in with the save
- The 'soar' times with the PD/Kay in b-town, the dog conversation, and bumping into shale out of all folks at the st regis, PD wearing wedding clothes, and bhai kebabs
- Mr. tulip's car episode behind the 08 lounge
- the first time at pier 33, with the shack, and unpeeling
- the solstice haze, sitting on the rock with Z & Kay, the 'of course' to shru that started it all :)
- the time at the bombay airport with Big T (what a top lad)
- superhero party!
- the biggest meal ever with the quad squad, and our boy shiva cooking
- the time i had to go, but pree won't let go
- the week where we saw the sun every bloody morning, and the run with kay to tire out
- A's C block frat house, for the first two terms anyway
- T's terrace
- scaring afz!
- afz's ride times + taking the mike around
- PD's drunken fits with the w.chair (mysteriously lost next morning!)
- the silly RS bet(s) with youtee
- the two week cool off periods with youtee
- gifting ourselves for the 2nd o-week
- parading tarbooz man with the bois
- the 12 hour gig on p-day
- the oscar sham
- the stand-up night in the sec awards
- the stand-up night at talent night
- the second o-week blur, and the farewell++moghster times+prank
- inebriated pool dips at 4 am, followed by the coffee machine
- the backyard
- asli
- P's visits
- Phir subah ho gayi?
- the last 100 meters of the ISL race.
- the mohali trip; oopar oopar rehne de;
- the doppleganger discovery, courtesy baba
- movie room..paayo..dhol baaje
- movie room during the 2nd o-week, with the lines outside! (++riots scenes)
- pd flipping over when his buddy visited
- the dxb surprise (unexpected, but not unwelcome..)
- alum bar with the RE prof
- sentha with bawa
- zenobia's husband hah!
- mogu mogu..deserves a chapter of her own
- trn's car episode + dosa times
- trn's phone episode!
- the sv3 party, with dyu

This is a pointless exercise. Clearly there is no end to this list.

How does one top such an year :)

"Being the one is just like being in love. No one needs to tell you you are in love, you just know it, through and through."

An Eternal Bromance

I have a dirty secret.

Maybe kinky even.

I started listening to Bhangra music actively in the 9^th grade or so. Back then, this was largely driven by my attempt to rediscover my roots (while I learned later that my ancestry is more Peshawari/Pakistani than punjabi, and thus the said roots are closer to the NWPF than the five sisters, we’ll leave that for a later post) as also UK /Canadian Punjabi music’s fling with the mainstream. Even though most such music then (and even now) veered around truck driver melodies, I was determined to bring to light genuine evocative glorious (you get the drift) tunes from within this grimy little underworld place. And so began what soon became a daily ritual of sitting online on sites like simplybhangra, punjab2000, nachdepunjabi, chakdey and such, discovering things like BitTorrent, DC++ (the best effing software there ever will be) and DC groups where desi dj’s exchanged notes and sampled music sometimes years before it got out (Did you know Tanu Weds Manu’s Sadi Gali is actually from a 2008 RDB album? Do you even care? Who are you? What could this mean in the larger scheme of things? What if..).

And while the journey has had its highs and lows, peaks and valleys, ebbs and flows, and stystoles and diastoles; artists, record labels and even music channels have come and gone, your faithful author has remained mostly so.

I remember I once forced charlie to listen in on my dilapidated excuse for a diskman (*beams*) to what, to me, was a very catchy number (Jassi Sidhu’s Ishq Vich Jogi) only to be given a look which was loosely based around “I like you but I don’t like this song so I will smile politely and nod appreciatively because how long can this song go on anyway right?”. At which point she lost 50 points for Ravenclaw.

But anyway, what hasn’t changed is my faith (sometimes rock solid, other times dangling by pinky fingers over lakshman jhoola) in the potential of the Punjabi music space that is just waiting to be tapped like something which must be..umm tapped. Exhibit A: Man of the moment, Honey Singh. While one might like to believe that his audience barely transcends West Delhi, you must know that he had been patiently biding his time delivering regional hit after hit after hit (he’s been around since this) until he came out with the monster that was International Villager. 20 million + youtube hits are crazy numbers for any artist, let alone Indian. Sprinkle a bit of visibility (matlab this) and you got mistah midas touch.  And there are many such corkers out there like Bikram Singh, Surinder Shinda, Northern Lights, Tigerstyle, Aman Hayer, Sukshinder Shinda, Master Saleem, Imran Khan (who did get fleeting moments of celebrity actually), Feroz Khan and so many more who are probably peeling peas while I wage their battle in the small hours because the poor lads’ PR machinery is found wanting. And while we’re at it, whatever happened to Jasmine Sandlas!

I feel sore now, so this is the end of this post. I mean sore physically, not like a guy in the 1950s who’s angry in a movie.

Jay Sean, if you’re reading this buddy you owe a massive massive shout out to our man Rishi Rich and the 2point9 crew.

Pritam, if you’re reading this, while it’s great you’re one of the guys finally giving good Punju music (NOT an oxymoron) its deserved due (by which I don’t necessarily mean giving Miss Pooja a break), it would be nice if you won’t Bollywoodise (mess up) songs like these.

And dear Delhi readers with a cosy space for quality punju music in their dil, you owe yourselves a Hari & Sukhmani gig. 

If you got till this far, I leave you with this: The ‘Earth’ without ‘art’ is just ‘Eh’.

Does it make you want to stop and soak in, then stare at the distance in mild awe, and then roll about the ground, yapping like a dog at the discovery? It shouldn’t, because this isn’t a breakthrough finding. You were just too dense to notice it earlier.

Maybe you should write me an email about this. But don’t send it, because there is already too much junk in my trunk. In all 3 ways.

Yes 3.

Actually I would love for you to write me an email.

No I won’t.

Yes I would.

Shut up!

No you shut up!

--

Sidharth

P.S. You’re the only one who saw 6 whiles in the 600 or so words. No shit, sherlock!

P.P.S. I have been writing in bits and pieces over the past few months, but most of the stuff has been too deviant (dark perhaps?) to publish. Maybe I would put it up one day. Maybe I won't. Until I do, hold tight.

--

The Cricket Post

So it has been a while since we won the cup that counts, and most of the dust has settled. And while there is a possibility that we still will be gloating about it till 2015, or the rest of our lives, whichever later, I just happen to have some vella time right now.

Anyhoo, I'm pretty sure most of us would have our own little April 2nd stories which will remain etched in our memories for a considerable amount of time, seeing as there is a high likelihood of us(You) leading (enduring?) otherwise meaningless existences. ouch!

Truth jokes aside, I think it was brilliant. I think each, and every moment was special mostly since the joy was so..unbridled. The momentary chest bumping, screaming and tears(!) aside, it simply gave everyone that one little chance of stepping up. Of being part of, or at least witness to something big, something spectacular and something they could call their own. bhui wahs.

Sure cricket is a commonwealth hangover, with probably about 20 countries playing competitively. Sure it needs a lot more than 90 minutes. Sure the current Aussie team is a shade of the past. And sure there were smses citing the exact results hours before. I say tell that to the little kid (cliche alert) with no shelter and nothing to cheer about, who ran across the street with a mini flag that night. To the millions of office goers who press F5 to refresh the commentary on cricinfo every time India plays. And to the hundreds of random people we high fived at 3 am at India Gate :)

In a nation riven by religion, communalism and what have you, cricket is the balm that heals. In a land as heterogenous, diverse and contradiction ridden as ours, it is probably the only thing that unites. Layman(you) style, here's why:

1) The equipment is Inexpensive - How much can 1 ball and 1 basic bat cost? now think golf.

2) It is easy to learn / play - meaning, anyone can stand and hit a ball.
3) Can be played anywhere - think nike advert. now compare that with tennis. or shooting!
4) Sachin Tendulkar
5) Most significantly, we are genetically, and characteristically, a lazy people. And it is a lazy man's game. Really. Think 7 hours of mostly standing save 3 guys, and hitting a ball. Now think muscle. Football. Basketball.

It's like Bombay, or for that matter any other great port city of the world. It had to happen. It was inevitable.

Not just because of the silly reasons above. But because people could relate.They could dream, that just like a buck toothed budding bus conductor from among them could lift the 1983 World Cup, they too could make things better in their own lives. It gave them Hope. and Faith. Serious, aur kya chahiye?

Beyond that, and at a very logical level we've had barely anything to cheer about as a sporting nation, and with built in caveats anyway. Like Abhinav Bindra  had the money to fund his sport of choice. (not taking anything away from his phenomenal achievements). Or Karthikeyan had JK tyres backing him.

Now think how many times I used the word think in this post.

This is the abrupt ending.

p.s. because the energy never dies. (e.n.d.)

of hearts and rings and other nice things

oh darling aye, where might you be?
i'm sitting around, almost 23
papaji wants me by 26 to marry
that only leaves for congress years 3!

what if shit hits the fan, and arranged ho gayi shaadi
what telling to future grand children cool story
"bacchon papa liked my photo and,
nanu liked cash money!"

what about the rainbows,
and pink pink horsey,
what about mills and boons boy wealthy and muscle-y,
where be my prince william, balding hee sahi!

cometh my rajkumar,
palkein bichhaye main baithee..

and then there was april 2nd, 2011

world cup post won't be soon before long ! assume i'm cleverly holding it back to avoid clutter and retain brand differentiation :/

meanwhile, for all the baba logs dealing with existential angst, help me help you uncomplicate.

"So Who AM I?"

Read only the caps in the above.

hurry home ji

Dh

Keeping it simple since tendulkar's debut

P.S. If you actually bought the April's fool's day post, you need to get run over. by cows. Bovine intervention.

why do women like unicorns?

so the blog hit 4000 err..hits. curious much?

i also went to the hills. it was nice. you would have liked it.

coming to the title of the blog then, here's the ugly truth. no it ain't because of their fabulous strength, majestic beauty, the obvious phallic symbol (duh) sticking out of their head or the sparkles shooting orifices. It is because they are only tamable by..wait for it..virgins. Hah! Their purity renders the beast all weak kneed and submissive, akin to->

So there you have it. The whole taming the savage male syndrome all over o_O. Alas, ze innocent girlies seem to enjoy the illusion of control more than control itself. On a not so unrelated note, here's what Kumar john berger has to say - Men dream of women, women dream of themselves being dreamt of  :)

welcome.

My lyrics for today come from one of my fav songs from back in the day, as also my first song on ze black and white keys:

Anne's Song

You fill up my senses
like a night in the forest
like the mountains in springtime,
like a walk in the rain
like a storm in the desert,
like a sleepy blue ocean
you fill up my senses,
come fill me again.

Come let me love you,
let me give my life to you
let me drown in your laughter,
let me die in your arms
let me lay down beside you,
let me always be with you
come let me love you,
come love me again. 

Dh

p.s. the following information will change your life. or not.


At one point, you will honestly believe that you have unriddled THE puzzle. You will have your own little January 6 moment, where you understand yourself, know what you want to do with your life and figure everyone else out. Exactly two years later, you'll scrap all of your old, childish assumptions in favor of your current, brilliant hypothesis. "Man, I was an idiot two years ago when I thought I had life figured out, but now I've REALLY got it figured out." You'll calm down a little bit and look back on your youthful ignorance and laugh. "How could I think life was all about [X] when it's CLEARLY all about [Y]?!" Fact is, you'll repeat this process every two years. For the rest of your life. Which means that whatever you say right now, you're probably an idiot anyway.

Tee hee.

Meh.