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The Tik-Tik Man October 8, 2008

Posted by K in Abstract Ramblings, contemporary, Faction, Life.
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4 comments

The Tik-Tik man was always there. Outside the ice-cream parlour, while the rich kids ate, the Tik-Tik man walked up and down, with a sack on his shoulder, and toys in his hands. He would make the Tik-Tik toy go tik-tik every few seconds, hoping the sound would penetrate the ice-cream cones and the traffic jams. He had spectacles and greying hair, a slight figure and an expression of un-envy as car after car would disgorge its contents onto the pavement outside the parlour. College kids, small kids, young couples, and lots and lots of veiled women. Perhaps the Tik-Tik man wondered how they would lick the cones of anjeer ice-cream through the barrier of the veil. Or perhaps the Tik-Tik man said fuck you bitch. Perhaps the Tik-Tik man says fuck you a lot more often than his benign appearance betrays. Fuck you, you piece of shit. Your ice-cream costs twenty eight bucks. Your auto costs another twenty. One way. My toy costs thirty five. And I’m evening willing to negotiate. Fuck you for not having to begin your day at six in the morning and end it at twelve at night. Fuck you for not having to do two jobs to feed your family and put your kids through school. Fuck you for being able to not notice me.

Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you.

But the Tik-Tik man will probably not utter the ‘f’ word. The Tik-Tik man probably tells himself that his dignity is not ground in dust every second, that he doesn’t mind being just a part of the scenery. I don’t know. What I do know, is that the Tik-Tik man works for an advocate in Andheri in the day time, and sells toys from eight in the evening. The advocate pays him three thousand rupees a month, an amount that I contribute towards my (muchly) shared flat every month, and what I do know, is that it is not enough to sustain his family. The Tik-Tik man has two children who go to college, and the Tik-Tik toys that are bought probably go into the college fund. What I do know, is that the Tik-Tik man sells his wares with good cheer. What I do not know, is why the Tik-Tik man doesn’t hate us more.

I, too, wonder at the patience of the poor in our country.

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The Yearbook Graffiti Article… April 24, 2008

Posted by K in Funny, Life.
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6 comments

Graffiti: The Tale of the Table

Generations of dissidents have stamped their rebellion on walls, streets and public toilets. Generations of LSR students have silently subverted the fifty five minute class by occupying themselves in creative expression on desks.

Graffiti, the bane of the Establishment, and boon of countless bored students, could provide fodder for an intensive neurological study. Our brains are wired to produce rationality and coherence. How the process got hijacked midway is left to conjecture, but let there be no doubt: our minds are twisted and strange. Here’s why.

In the beginning God created the pre-oedipal Dada fodder. That would be us. Born free, born wild (in a manner of speaking).

Then we met the parents.

Then we become institutionalized.

And THEN… we went to college.

(Should that be enough? Need I go on? Do you not know what is to follow?)

Like a rubber band we were played by figures of Authority. They all took turns, and mocked our impotence. We waited, we watched, and in college, we produced this-

1) ‘DIE’

That out of the way, we moved on to other things. If Wordsworth and Co. would like you to believe that poetry is genius of the moment, then so would the undergraduates at LSR. If the thought appears, catch it before it flies away, or so would seem the motto. And judging by the artwork on the desks, it would seem we lack not the genius. A not-so-careful scrutiny will reveal pop art, elaborate squiggles, and the many wisdoms that pop to mind every now and then. The Tale of the Table; a relatively non-elitist occupation (esotericism is not an accusation that can be leveled against our art) of a fair section of elite LSR. Peruse at leisure.

Category 1(Miscellaneous Outpourings)

Wish you were here => Pink Floyd.

(The secret desire of an Undergraduate student revealed.)

‘Banana pancakes, Banana Pancakes’

‘I have momos…’’–> I want’

(Obviously hunger was uppermost on somebody’s mind)

‘Sneha’s pen is drunk’

(It seems that it is not just the flush that displays inappropriate behaviour in the English corridor.)

Certain teachers are a member of an exclusive body: CHTLL: Class Hungry Teachers League of LSR.

(Chiefly characterized by their refusal to cancel even one class)

‘I was here…

And you weren’t’

‘I wanna go to Cal.’

(Wanderlust)

‘Namaskar! Pranaam!

Aadab! Hello!

Good-evening!’

(We are multi-lingual and polite)

Category 2(philosophical)

‘I am Tormented and Tortured’

‘Death is only the beginning…’

‘Have you been there?’ ‘ ya how do you know?’

‘No social Formations’

BORN TO BE WILD!’

Love thy crooked neighbour

With thy crooked heart’

‘I hate people who tYp LyK dIs’

‘Start Studying’

(Valuable advice being dispensed)

Never tickle a sleeping dragon’

(Yeah, wake them up first…)

‘The tide is high

But I’m holding on

I’m going to do well

In these exams’

‘I have eloped with my dreams’

‘Plz dnt show your creativity on the tables.’

‘Why Not? *So what are you doing expressing your own here!!

Its FUN.’

‘Yeah! And neway, class is so boring.’

‘Stop Moral Policing’

(A five way conversation being carried out in absentia. The debate on graffiti shall live on.)

Category 3(plain bored)

‘WEEPY WILLY

SLEEPY SAM’

‘SLEEPY AMRITA’

‘Here lies the bored body of Smrithi’

(Oops. We should probably not have printed the name! 😉 )

‘If Lara Dutta

Marries Brian Lara

She’ll be Lara Lara. Bolo Tara Ra Ra’

‘Please find me a pg…”

R.I.P: I LIVED’

(Presumably the body rotted un-noticed in class…)

Category 4 (Academics!)

‘RENOUNCE IT!

THE ATTENDANCE!’

‘I dislike Eco from the deepest

Recesses of my souls core!’

‘Robi is a HUNK

Tridib’s a HERO.’

(Extra-textual judgement of Shadow Lines)

‘Beelzebub

Has a Devil

Put aside

For Me’

(Yeah, dream on, baby…)

PARADISE LOST

If found, please contact:

God-LXXXVII’

‘Paradise Regained

We’re finally done with MILTON’

‘Dil mein mere hai dardnak Derrida

Dardnak Derrida, dardnak Derrida…’

Ramblings of an Unscholarly Mind… April 24, 2008

Posted by K in Diary, Extreme Nostalgia, Friends, Funny, Life, Lyrics, Maiden, Nonsense.
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2 comments

To counter my absolute blankness when faced with the books I am supposed to answer 75 marks worth questions on, I opened my notebooks. I had a total of four notebooks this year (no, make that five…I think) to take, well, notes, and I had picked them all with tender loving care. My favourite one was the one with the champagne glass on the cover. It’s appeal is obvious 😉 Then there was the breathtaking art on the red one, which I reserved for one of my ex-favourite teachers. The one with the abandonment and music on the cover was rather nice as well, but the point I am trying to make, is that these beauteous notebooks…contain no classnotes.

I flip page after page, and find graffiti, doodles, graffiti, maiden, graffiti and…you get the picture. So I thought I would dedicate this post to my class time activities. Let me reproduce here the things that held my attention, while the rest of the class was (presumably) engaged in scholarly pursuit.

  • 29/02/08 (I have a habit of obsessively dating my ‘notes’) : In parentheses- Chucked out of previous two classes for not reading text *grin*

This would be the Conrad class, where for about 3-4 four classes the teacher taught 5 out of some 40 students, because the rest hadn’t read Heart of Darkness, teehee.

  • 15/02/08 (This is in Pallavi’s handwriting; we were mocking something, but I forgot what…) ‘Every woman needs her daily male’
  • 22/01/08 sees the pictoral, stick figure representation of The Life of A. Parthosarathy, and involves an attempt of said gentleman to understand his solitude…’cept there’s a power-cut and he forgets the question. I shall try and post a pic of it sometime.
  • 24/01/08: Pictoral depiction of two clouds trying to eat each other.
  • 18/01/08: ‘Fresh, crust, roast, crisp, crunch’. An enumeration of my favourite food sounds (I think I was hungry,lol)
  • 03/03/08: ‘We sail away… On ships of wonder’ Beautiful lyrics from Rainbow. Catch the Rainbow, I think. Minor case of ear worming, I think.
  • 29/01/08: A stylized ‘REAPERS REPOSE’. Two Eddies on the page, and the inevitable SCREAM FOR ME MUMBAI!!! Iron Maiden Somewhere Back in Time.
  • 17/01/08: “Give me freedom, or kill me!”
  • 20/09/07: In a Swift class, discussing the living dead, the Struldbrugs in Gulliver’s Travels – ‘Dead-in-Law’ Har har har.
  • 4/12/07: I was apparently in a ‘familial’ mood. Figures drawn of Eddie’s Mother, and Harlequin’s brother.
  • 17/01/ 08: scribbled along the margin top of the page- ‘sleepy sleepy sleepy Gray sleepy sleepy sleepy’. This was during a lecture on Thomas Gray, delivered by a teacher who is quite good, but unfortunately, possesses quite a soporific drone 🙂
  • 4/12/07(etched in blood, it says): (Hertfordshire) doesn’t get Maiden… Mumbai does. *GRIN* MODERN MAN fell asleep. Eddie woke him up and said “Will you scream for Bangalore? I am trying to shift the MAIDEN…INDIA…2008 venue.”
  • 17/10/07: Rama Rama Melodrama Sniff sniff sneeze Fly with the breeze Eat your pen Inhale.
  • 30/10/07: In a DH Lawrence Sons and Lovers class- ‘Mother did actually want to be a man’. ‘ Miriam…books did not matter to her’. (In my defense: I was busy admiring graffiti on desks in all DH Lawrence classes)
  • 29/08/07– Lots of Maiden… ‘Transcendental Eddie’.……’IRON MAIDEN OWNS YOUR SOUL (YOU JUST DON’T KNOW IT YET 😉 ) …………..Air Harris!……………FREEZE YOUR SOUL AND MAYBE EDDIE WON’T EAT YOU HAIR \m/

And so on, and so forth 🙂 I think I shall put up a post with all the graffiti I copied from desks…they deserve to be read 😀 What creativity people show, I tell you! 😀

Remunimunations January 15, 2008

Posted by K in Abstract Ramblings, Life, Poem.
5 comments

There was a time

Quite long ago

When I believed I would learn

The nuances of being

 

The years came and went

But I remained

Dreadfully incompetent.

 

Is there a way

A truth or a pattern

To wish my crowsfeet away?

They come when I smile

At people senile

When they ask me what I have made of my life.

 

Born astride a grave,

Fighting karma,

Explaining miseries away;

There is a god

No there is not

Come let’s play at it anyway

 

Deep orange ochre

A Fool and a joker

Building a castle

Of hay

 

Burble blip

Hop skippetty skip

Let’s dance, let’s play

In forced ignorance.

Back to Projects January 2, 2008

Posted by K in Abstract Ramblings, Diary, Life.
3 comments

12 days of glorious aimlessness now need to come to an end. I have projects that need to be done, and while I do not in the least feel inclined to, or capable of, writing something that is not trash, I guess I will eventually have to get down to them. My objective mind tells me that I would rather not keep anything for the end of Jan, as MAIDEN…INDIA…2008! will mess with my Being. And I do know that the mind is right, except it’s so darn hard!! To do as it says, I mean.

I have discovered I am quite useless at research. I do not have the patience or respect for it. Pages and pages of work, both intellectual and physical, penned down in obtuse words…I know I ought to give due respect to Knowledge, except these days I’m thinking (more and more!) that Knowledge is really all bull. I am at the stage where I glorify non-sense because that is the only thing that makes sense; it seems to be the only thing reflecting the essence of life. I pick up books of nonsense poetry, read authors who give the finger to language(well, nonsense poets, mostly) and basically stick their tongues out to the world and burble away.

I am sick and tired of engaging with issues of politics, discrimination, injustice. I know my being sick and tired of them doesn’t make them go away, and neither is it my agenda to make them go away. I am just choosing to inhabit the plane that lies above them, and for as long as I see the existence of that plane. And in that plane, the brain is not required to function in ways that are necessary to write 1500 word (times four) projects.

However, I shall never again suffer the quality of projects I turned in last year. And it’s not fair to make the professors suffer them either.

My Resolution for early 2008 is to…*blank blank blank*. Damn that plane!

(Now where does that leave me?)

December 28, 2007

Posted by K in Abstract Ramblings, Fiction, Life, Travel, Uncategorized.
3 comments

Medea started her journey with a sandwich and a cupcake. She had been told to take the second right turn home, but on the way she realized she didn’t know what home was. She had forgotten, just like the way-oops, sorry, no parallel here. She stopped by the wayside at a quarter to twelve, just as she had been told, and ate her cupcake. The sandwich she preserved for her four o’clock snack, unlike what she had been told.

Medea’s one significant characteristic was that she had none. Wait, this is quite like one of the bagful of storyteller’s clichés. What would be more accurate, would be that Medea could stand in the middle of the street and no one would see her. You know, quite like how spies and detectives fashion themselves, except in her case, no fashioning was required. She just was. And she knew it. What she felt about it was anybody’s guess, for she never told.

Yap yap, yappity yap. Medea fed the last of her cupcake to the scraggly little puppy that stood before her, wagging its dot of a tail.

“Where to, scruffy?” She asked.

“Wait; what am I doing? I’m talking to a dog. I never talk to things. Except myself, quite like what I’m doing right now, but that’s besides the point.” Hm.

She stood up, dusted the meagre crumbs into a heap where Scruffy could get at it, and watched as Scruffy was joined by other little scruffies.

“Quite a happy family,” she said, and her mood darkened.

Country roaaad…take me hommee…she sang in her head.

Four o’clock came, and she sat under the same tree and ate her sandwich. She noted discontentedly that it was a vegetable sandwich, and an average one at that.

Take the second right turn home, but where was home?       

“I do not have amnesia, no. Atleast not like how it is in the movies.” She remembered her name, and she knew she remembered the reason behind her name, except it was as if the knowledge was hiding behind a stone wall. Sometimes she wanted to claw at that wall, but it was never any good.

Home…she had secretly looked up the dictionary meaning of it, but the words did not ring any bells. She knew she had people who were close to her; there was a tiered system of affection, and home had something to do with that.

She knew her world was closing in on her, and she knew her mind was collapsing in on itself. A boulder rolling down a hill, closing in on her. A boulder bouncing like a ping pong ball, with her strapped to the table.

The sun rose in the morning, reached its peak when she had he cupcake, and set in the distance as she settled beneath the tree.

She didn’t know where home was, but she wasn’t bothered. Someone would tell her, she knew.

Yes, Global Terrorism and all that… December 27, 2007

Posted by K in Abstract Ramblings, contemporary, Death, Life, Uncategorized.
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3 comments

How does one stop global terrorism? I know today I wrote a whole shpiel on how terrorism is a matter of who defines it and how we are all potential terrorists and how intellectually we can never be rid of terrorism…but all that seems so far away…theorizing and all is fine, but what does one do now, at this very moment, to stop people blowing up people? What concrete steps can be taken by the establishment to stop the most visible face of terror?

One thing is obvious; it’s all a matter of money. Goons need money to buy the AK-47s, to buy bombs, to buy the material to make bombs. STOP the flow of money, trace the lines of funding and cut it off! If anybody is serious about fighting this kind of violence, this is the very least that they can and must do! As for the deeper questions of what is a terrorist- let the bloodshed stop, and maybe we can take it up from there…

Guilt December 15, 2007

Posted by K in Abstract Ramblings, contemporary, Death, Life.
Tags: , ,
6 comments

Today’s newspaper carried a story about a train that rammed into a bus carrying a lot of school children. The story struck me as tragic at many levels. Not only did 16 people die, but many of those school children would normally not have taken the bus. Their parents had banned them from cycling that day because of the fog.

I’m trying to put myself into the shoes of the mother who lost two children because she sent them by bus. What must she be feeling? How long will it be till she’s able to forgive herself? Will her decision ever stop haunting her? Will she be able to go on living?

What about the siblings of these children? Not only do they have to bear the loss of a brother or sister, they will also have to carry the pain of parents who might be too guilt-ridden to be themselves, if not forever, but atleast for a very very long time to come.

The collision occurred because the children had begged the gate keeper to let them go because they were late for their exams. I know nothing can excuse the dereliction of duty, and one would perhaps be justified in condemning his action, but that still doesn’t matter in the present, does it? What has happened has happened, wrong or right, but how is he to reconcile himself to his action?

His 11 year old daughter too got on to the bus. She, however, was miraculously saved. The guilt he must be feeling must be two-fold. Survivors guilt; what I did killed other children, not mine. Joy that his daughter was spared, and guilt immediately after.

How does one live with oneself when one has killed/hurt a near and dear one, or even a complete stranger, unintentionally?

I remember an Oprah episode about such incidences. There was a mother who had accidentally killed some of her children by falling asleep at the wheel. A grandmother who had reversed over her tiny grandson. A boy who had rammed into his mother’s car, killing her.

The worst kind of prison has to be this. Self imposed and un-relenting. If there is one thing I never wish upon anybody, it has got to be this.

December 5, 2007

Posted by K in Life, Uncategorized.
2 comments

It’s a long road to hell but I’m on it climbing the tree that reaches down

Really really down

Snagging your hair with sharp. pointy. twigs. because in the cave lies the poison

That pulsates

Bulb bulbbulbulbous

Passively…poisonous…

The neck twisted twisted because

You are not allowed to see

Yanking at the rope of diamond fibre

Screaming to break free

Screaming.

Screaming

Silently.

December 1, 2007

Posted by K in Abstract Ramblings, Diary, Life, Maiden, Music, Nonsense, Reviews/Rants.
6 comments

The exams are yet again upon me. I, yet again, am grossly under-prepared. Actually, as of now, my condition is better described as ‘not prepared’. The grotesque thing is that I couldn’t care less. Moving on…

India refuses to trade arms with Burma. Finally, and yippitty yay! Now he can say “Congratulations India”. ‘He’ being a member of the Burmese Government in exile.

Life in Metro-movie that tries too hard. Unsuccessfully.

The fests are upon us. And we are upon exams. Need I rant more?

Lauren Harris is supporting daddy’s band again. Steve-really.

One goes to watch Aaja Nachle tomorrow. One hopes one has not done foolish thing.

One wishes life would wipe up after itself. One takes one look at a definition of life and gives it up as a hopeless case.

One…… has writers block.