Old wine in new bottle-2

And this one's my fave. Written more than two years ago, I'm sure everything said here still holds true!

2)Friday, April 07, 2006
Life in a girls’ hostel.

It rocks…and that’s an understatement. I still remember the day when I first entered the campus and saw what seemed to me like a like a vast expanse with a big herd of grazing cows. No kidding. The campus ground was bustling with activity- the loading unloading of all the belongings- bedding, pillow, bucket, clothes’ bags, et al …and then finally the ‘vidaai’ scene, wherein the girls never wanna let go of their mommie’s pallu, and papaji just stands beside , fighting back the tears , trying to put a brave face forward.Cut to present . 4 years have almost passed ever since I first came here. And strangely enough , it never needed me to outgrow of home sickness, I always felt at home here. For most it’s a different story though. The initial few months are the toughest for those who’ve left their homes for the first time. The typical symptoms of home sickness include meal-skipping, crying at the drop of the hat ( while for those who are more easily embarrassed , the loos provide the perfect shelter to cry their hearts out), et al. However, it’s more of a smooth sailing after that . You make friends the very first day, but the real friendship begins a little later. And more or less lasts till the day you leave the hostel.Anyway, lets not dwell upon the senti aspect. Lets take a look at the more interesting part. The characters I’ve met here in hostel can very well give all the saas and bahus of the soap operas a run for their money, and just the day to day activities , politics here can inspire Ekta Kapoor to produce another ten serials. And the best part is that all this is for real. Nothing like it if something spicy happens to you, then you can proudly brag in front of your peers and juniors… about how the other day you got caught ragging the freshers, or about how the wardens of your hostel hate you and are contemplating throwing you out.Birthday celebrations are always fun, probably because they are forbidden ( at midnight that is ), and almost ensure that you’re going to get a very sound scolding from some poor hassled soul called the warden . And the icing on the cake is when you laugh at her face, while she compares you to uncultured brats, having no sense of respect for the elders whatsoever . And as if its not enough for you, you go overboard by repeating the crime over and over again, when ultimately she has to send letters at home. And when even this doesn’t work, she swears to take you to your principal!Then there is the gang politics. Not always very dirty, but annoying nonetheless. Almost always it starts with one gang wanting to be hailed the best. The girls in this group consider themselves to be hipper and ‘happening’er, and look down upon those from the other group as the lowliest creatures ever alive. While the other one maintains that it is more sober , sophisticated , and more importantly, the higher scoring group. And the irony lies in the fact that neither can do without the other. At the face value , everyone’s everyone’s friend. The very people who smile at you when bumping into you on the way, are the same people who laugh at you the moment you’re gone.The girls in a hostel can be broadly categorized into 2 types- those having a boyfriend and those without one. The ones who have boyfriends are the more populated species, and can be spotted from a kilometer’s distance . They are the ones who are stuck to their cell phones as if it were another limb . At night , they occupy the least crowded spots in the building , more preferably the ones near the loos. And many of them can be seen hanging out of the windows by their waist,as if prepared to jump out of them in case the boyfriend doesn’t say “ I love you” for atleast a hundred times during that particular call.And then there are the females belonging to the species , almost on the verge of extinction. They don’t have a boyfriend, the reasons of which could be anything , but I won’t go into the details. In any case , they are the ones who wear an expression of sheer frustration on their face , and desperation in their eyes.Then you have your very own AIR’s (All India Radioes). Need any information about who’s going around with whom , or who’s breaking up, or who supposedly fags and boozes or sluts around? They’ll dig out the minutest details , making even Sherlock Holmes squirm in his grave.And then there are the scheming bitches, sans the pancake though. What they do , why they do it, where do they go, who do they meet , is always a matter of curiosity for the more curious types. They are the models of the hostel, with the attitude of a Ms. World. But yeah, you can always spot them around the more intelligent of the lot , especially around the exam and submission time.Then, there are your friends. The only people who stick to you though thick and thin, and never leave you , no matter what ( atleast this is what is expected of them). But they are also not without their flaws . There are spats , misunderstandings, frequent cursing and swearing , but you always end up returning back to them. They are your friends.

Old wine in new bottle-1

Interpretation: Old posts in new blog.
Yeah, something just reminded me today of my old blog which I had ruthlessly abandoned after leaving college. At the risk of sounding immodest(which I very much am anyway), I found quite a few posts there pretty interesting. Hehe. Now that these award-winnable posts never got any recognition during the older days, I'm gonna copy-paste them here in the hope of making them more, er, recognized? (of course, since my present blog is the most popular thing on the net right now, with it even being voted a 'Blog of Note'). Whatever. There were some fond memories which were rotting away in that older blog, so I'm simply gonna dust away the layers of dirt on them, and bring them here, all new and shiny.
Not gonna edit anything, not doing any spell-check either.

1) The treat (aka Parte~)
Sunday, April 09, 2006

went to yet another treat last night..although my frenz prefer me callin it a 'parte~'.It was another one of those placements treats, that I simply detest attending. No, no, the reason is definitely not another severe bout of irrational insanity(afterall, you get free food there), and definitely not jealousy. Its just that such treats are organised(?) at the 11th hr, with time enough only to put on your lone unwrinkled top and make a dash towards the rick.So, it happened yet again last night. Me was blissfully orkutting, and simlutaneously playing tissue paper for a hapless friend, while my roomie storms in and roars- " Get your ever expanding bottoms outta that chair, we've got a treat to go to." While am still trying to absorb her words, i find myslef being literally dragged outta the chair, and pleading with her to atleast lemme bid adieu to my chat friend. But to no avail.Anyway, I franctically look at my bed, in the despearate hope to find one decent top that aint black in color ("wear something more feminine in my party, or dont come.."). What the heck, it's easier to borrow.Finally, we split the whole gang into groups of 3, and reach the venue, still mad at the other 2 rickshaw partners, for supposedly having hogged all the space in there."Nandu's" is a great parantha joint, no doubt.. but I'd have preferred some place wherein I wouldnt feel full even before beginning to order. Then began our ordeal with the ordering part.. while everyone mouths "kya khaoon", am the only one who goes "kya kya khaoon"! This is precisely the problem in eating out with your girlfriends. They never eat, while you end up looking like some malnourished kid from the hunger-stricken land of Somalia, who hasnt eaten in weeks.And another problem is the kinda hullaballoo these girls create at such public places, which not only scares the coochie-coo couples away, but also incurs the wrath of the poor waiter. "Please try and not upturn the table", "Please order in one go, and not call me another 100 times", "Do you at all wish to order", "Are you done yet"...et al.But the paranthas no doubt are yummy. And filling, for a change. As much as the seemingly one tonne of butter spread onto the rounder-than-my-face parantha made me go week in my knees, for others, it was sheer torture. (one girl even went to the length of proposing a ban on the fattening butters and ghees- "I'd aimed to get a boyfriend atleast this sem!" ).All in all, if something compares to 'maa ke haath ka parantha', it's Nandu's.
(p.s: had to skip today's lunch cuz of last night's dinner. Pure sin!)

Games children play

So, I finally bought that little gameboard for my teeny cousins for a present. Now I'd been planning to gift them something worthwhile, for as long as I can remember. But the problem earlier was, they were too young. And whatever the little guy gets, the elder sister wants the same for herself, plus her own gift. So this time, when they're finally 'old' enough(3 and 4), I went ahead and bought that perfect present. Fine, perfect by my standards. I mean, who doesn't love a gameboard! And not just another Snakes and Ladders-cum-Ludo gameboard, but that fancy one, wherein you're given cute and multi-coloured dies and have all those adventurous break-points(er, whatever they are called!). Something like, you have been bitten by the lovebug, go back to the starting point and stay there 'cause now you're good-for-nothing. you get the drift. Maybe it was nostalgia of playing such games endlessly with all my brothers, sisters, friends, neighbours, their relatives et al, that gave me the go.
I've no idea how the kids will manage, surely my aunt will have to work extra hours to make sure there's no ruckus, but hell, I'm sure I'll immortalized as the fun Di.
I'm a sucker for indoor games, both cards and board games. Give me a pack of cards, and I can while away endless hours, just playing Solitaire or inventing some stupid games where I always win. So this time, when I was at the toys' section at Landmark, I finally bought something for myself that I'd always wanted- Uno. Yeah, I'm sure every soul on this planet has atleast once encountered that fun game, but me. I vividly remember, we never had Uno cards at home. Every attempt of getting ma buy me a pack was futile that time 'cause she badly wanted my brother and I to engage ourselves in outdoor activities. So, my brother found himself an outdoor activity- he would go out to his friend's place every evening and enjoy hours of Uno. Obviously I was never welcome. But the loving brother that he was, he always made sure I knew what an amazing fun game it was. That was more than 15 years ago. And suddenly a week back, I stumbled upon this very pack- Uno. Wow. All red and stuff. Now I don't really have a company at home, willing to 'waste' their precious time over a stupid round of cards. Do I care? Bah! I play it all by myself, thank you very much. And guess what, I never lose a game.
I also love word-games. You know, the ones played on comp. There's this amazing game called Boggle(most of you should be knowing). I'm not really the best player around, but what the hell, I am a dedicated one, and that's all that matters. Okay, winning at times feels nice too, but if that can't be managed, one should make do with the being dedicated part. Anyway, so I remember, at my previous job, after we ended up getting illegal internet connection, I devoted myself to the cause of the word-game whole-heartedly. I mean, the mere mortals would spend hours and hours on chatting, or mailing or googling and such. But I, instead of this, spent hours and hours honing my skill with words. Not that I ever came close to even getting into the top 10 in that online game, but sure as hell I helped enlighten those mortals(mentioned above), and led to the development of the EBA(EPDB Boggle Association). So now, earlier when people used to run to the loo every half an hour, and take coffee breaks every 2 hours, I ensured the team remained rooted firmly to their seats. There were many unforeseen advantages of this. First, there was an increased sense of healthy competition(though I could always hear a 'got you 'f***er!' or a 'i'm going to beat the s**t out of you in the next game' from the neighbouring cubicle) in the team. Second, my manager discovered profound sense of relief since the teammates were no longer gossiping about him(that's what he thought!) over a cuppa. Third, we were all finally getting those language lessons we ought to have got way back in kindergarten(DM- 'What the hell are you doing Dumbass! Type M A I L' .
PR-' I was gonna type that after M A L E'.
DM- 'What the hell is that??'
Me- '*beep* *beep*')
Last but not the least, the guys leant some decency. They would never spell S*X or its derivates whenever I was around.