Couplets

Was cleaning my room (I actually did that, but yes after maybe 6 months of living in the most chaotic room in campus, which had amongst its highlights a 2 foot thick carpet of old newspapers) and found my old note. It had a couple of poems I had written in I think an immunlogy class with the sole purpose of getting out of boredom( which anyone who has read my blog(a total count of 3 people i think) would have realised is the sole purpose of anything i write). The theme I chose that day was romance, if possible extra sugary, and hence hopelessly bad but decently tasty!

1.)

Improbable as it may sound
To you my heart is bound
This shackle I don't wish to break
Please become mine
Oh! Bitter sweet black forest cake!!!

2.)
Pretty woman baking in sunshine
After I met you
My heart has not been mine
with you is where I wish to be
My dear Limca, Lime n' Lemony

The Messenger

You might have heard people talking in their sleep. You might have seen people walking in their sleep. But have you heard of anyone sending text messages in their sleep. Not texting in their dreams but actually smsing while asleep. I guess, probably not. Well don't worry. You now know. Me.

This happened a couple of years ago. My grandmother had passed away about a week before that day. And some rituals were to be performed that day. A lot of relatives had assembled in my home, but noone amongst those people knew how to sms. In any case i go off to sleep. NIght passes off pleasantly,
But at around 6.15 a.m Naren calls me asking: where the hell are you? I am waiting by the bus stop. Come quickly so that we can go to college and play tennis.
Me: (blabbering) some rituals to be performed. Can't come.
Naren: Then why the fuck did you message me about an hour ago saying you have left home and on the way to the bus stop.
Me: I thought only I am blabbering. Go bacvk to sleep. I never sent such a message.
Naren: Arsehole. Tension yettadai. Its there in my inbox and it'll be there in your outbox.
Me: Anyway can't come today. will meet you tomo.

Well that woke me up alright. I still didn't couldn't believe I sent the message. I didn't have the faintest memory. So i actually go and check the outbox. And what do you know? The message was actually there. A longish message, sent at 5 a.m saying that I would be at the bus stop in ten minutes. The message had a smiley after every second word. Definitely not my style. So i start thinking who would have sent such a message. But definitely noone in my house. Completely perplexed me, and also slightly spooked me out. Couldn't believe i sent it, and also rejected the idea i messaged it in my sleep. As i felt it would be impossible to cross half the room to reach the mobile, unlock it, go to the create message option, type the message and send it.

But a couple of days ago read in the newspaper, in the science section, someone sent an e-mail in their sleep. That is even crazier. As here you have to even type in passwords. This incident completely surprised neuroscientists as they believed sleep walking involved only simple motor functions and not complex usage of cognitive ability. Well when i read it I remembered my message, and concluded reluctantly that I must have sent the message in my sleep.

If i do something even crazier I'll post here. Sexiest thing would be if I actually sign in and write a blog article while asleep. Wait a second I don't remeber writing this. No chance. Was this in my sleep. I don't know.

You haven't got mail

From experiences over the past month or so, I have begun to understand at least partially how communication used to be in the old days. In so many movies , you watch the protagonist bug the postman, as to whether any mail has arrived(Pather Panchali, though in a different context, was the last movie in which i saw this). Especially when he is expecting the results of some job application or test. And then when the postman replies in the negative, see the protoganist give a look of extreme dejection, and sometimes extreme desperation.

Well, these days most of my friends and me do the same thing. Except that instead of bugging the postman, each day we sign into our mail ids, just to see INBOX (0). And in the rare case that you do have unread mail, open the inbox just to see that you have a mail from WINDOWS LIVE telling you about IM! in love. As though you care if windows live is in love with yahoo who decided to jilt his advances.

I guess at least in the old days you could have bugged the postman as to whether he was sure that no mail addressed to me has come. You could also tell him that it would be extremely nice if he would deliver the mail from ABC university as soon as he sees it. And possibly when he does deliver it, see some sort of happiness on his face too. In this context, e-mail is extremely frustrating. Here you can't even vent your frustrations at hotmail or gmail.

Another incident that makes me reminesce about postal mail was ironically an e-mail ireceived from a friend recently. The mail was one of those nice mails, which people write for no particular reason except to keep in touch. It rambled about and talked about a lot of things and about nothing. And as I was reading it, it made me think how nice would it have been, if such a mail had come out of the blue, by post. Joy, I guess, is delivered in packages like these.

But noone writes mail like that anymore. Not even in the English composition period at school, which incidentally was the last time I wrote such a letter. It would be nice if people (including me) get back to the habit of letter writing and then sending them by post!!!

Farewell College - written on last day of theory classes

Today I bid thee farewell

For we may never again meet

After enjoying te beautiful sunshine

Into the sunset we now retreat.

Tomorrow I'll be just a faded memory

For every dusk precedes a new dawn

Many pages would have by then turned

This chapter would have been long gone.

Today i bid thee farewell

For our paths did once meet.

After running together on the highway

we split on the tune of the beating retreat. 

A Rolling Stone

Its such a pain to be pushed around
Not being able to fix your ground

You wish to do one thing,
but are forced to do another.
To resist is an option,
But you know you won't take it ever.

Resistance you know is but futile,
For the thoughts in you head are ephermal and light.
You want to do something today,
But tomorrow that will seem forced anyway

It is such a pain to be pushed around
More so when others have their purposes found!

Cow Swats Mosquito mercilessly

Blue Cross in Dilema

In major developments emanating from Chennai a cow swatted a mosquito to within inches of his life. This mosquito, who was the cow's ex had now become an irritant to her as he was coming in the way of her new love interest, a creature which looks like solidified coca cola with a porcupine head.

The police have decided to arrest the cow and this has put the Blue Cross in huge dilema. By the principles on which the bluw cross was established, it has to protect all animals from human attrocities. But if it was seen as supporting the cow, the powerful mosquito lobby(the main attack weapon of the animals against humans) will be offended and may even choose to support the humans to avenge this.

Operation Naren's Treat Successful

After a week of intense planning and military like execution, the Charity of Blessed Thought announced on saturday the success of its massive fund raising drive called Operation Naren's Treat. A fact known to only a select few till saturday was that the operation's code name amongst the top brass of the charity was operation treat Naren and not naren's treat.

A total of Rs. 1478/- was raised from this drive informed the charity's head Bharat Sridhar. He also added that the major contributors were Miss Raashi S, Miss Nandini M and Miss Ramya N who wished to repay the debt to society they incurred by torturing a poor mosquito and the cow he lusted after. (To the uninitiated, Suhas is often called Kosu)

Another noteworthy contributor was Miss Anuja C who wished to share the joy she got by doing well in her examinations qwith people who were less priviliged.

Bharat S, who also heads the Centre for Boyish Timepass also informed us that he was now getting threats from various quarters and had even considered going underground. But he decided against it as he felt that the people issuing these threats weren't competent enough to do anything to such a benovelent person as himself.

Those who read the above article will also be interested in

1.Mission Nuclear Movement Accomplished
2. Cow swats mosquito mercilessly; Blue Cross in Dilema