WLAN goes Trekking(2)

Contd.

Since I forgot to put one in the older post, here's a disclaimer.
Disclaimer: I am taking nobody's side in writing this. Hell forbid, you still think I do and decide to take it out on me, You won't know what hit you when I am done with you! :P

Once on the Bus, we chatted, fought over seats and arranged our bags for a long long time. After all, the driver and the others were still in the initial squares. Some of the popular topics in our gang as I remember, Harish's Eternal Silence (Well, when he speaks it is like a mexican druglord who's lost the bass in his voice), Parveen's love for all things involving limb movement (Running, Climbing, Crawling, you name it, she likes it), Sandeep's Dedicaton (How else did you think, he became a bigshot?), Visakh's need to reject Popular opinion(And his word-play Jokes/Hoax) and Jasmine's endless dungeon's  (And ofcourse her in-time retorts to keep Visakh's Jokes in check). Who did I miss here? Well the only one of the trekplan-ditchers who actually had a valid reason to not come trekking .Surabhi was in a mission to make time-travel possible? Na... just plain old sick. Fun fact: There's one popular rumour that she was the one that she helped Google expand their database by more than half by just sharing one-tength of the things she knows she learnt over the summer. Apart form the usual gang there was Shruthi (the nice one! Or was she??) and Parag (the conductor of the group!)

By the time we we had exhausted all our topics, It was time to start the Bus. After a lot of cheesy-goodbyes and take-cares and See-yas, we got rid of Visakh+Jasmine combo, or they of us!!

Oh yeah, I had totally forgotten about this - My Reasonings. I originally wanted to call them Philosophies but you supposedly have to be famous to be called a Philosopher. (Btw, I call myself a Reasoner! Which I am totally cool to take on as my Nickname, if you suggest it , of course!) This has to recorded and since I do not to my despair have the skill of writing hieroglyphs on stone (How cool would I be if I did! Huh), I record this in Silicon as zeros and ones parallel to the actual story you anticipated to read when you clicked my link.

REASONING #1.0: `EXERCISE MAKES YOU STUPID`
Unlike what people talk about me, I am not lazy and I don't exercise on principle. I am a strong believer of the Darwin's theory of Evolution. Evolution tends to dilute the strengths that are not used and builds on those that are. I like to believe that the homo sapiens are going to evolve into an intellectual Superbeing socializing with contemporaries from galaxies all-over and not a lalala-yelling, vine-hanging, leaves-wearing moron. And accelerating this process needs a conscious effort from every individual. Can't strengthen the mind, I can understand. But why cant we try cutting down on all the exercise-stuff. This way we would make space in the brain to think of actual stuff instead of focussing on limb co-ordination.
Wow, that was long! Anyway, The take-away is that I really really believe physical exertion in any form is a very bad habit and will be injurious to us as a species in the long run.

Everybody has their weak moments and I... I.... I slipped.  I agreed to go on a trek! And like a chain-smoker who had given in to take a drag decides to smoke out every last bit of his last cigarette, I decided to live my trek to the fullest. I know this is not the first time I say this, nor will it be the last. You can't blame a person for trying. How rude are you!!

Parallel in the actual story, we were making small-talk while everybody started getting in the Mood. Hasta-la-Vista Baby! Slowly the beat of the songs played on the stereo were picking up and the Volume raised to levels beyond what the dial was designed for. I am a generally a pretty reserved person and every time I lose even a teeny bit of my reserve in Public in the spur of the moment, I end up agonizing over the next couple of weeks wondering how idiotic I looked. This disease along with the curse of Photography and the million social networking sites make sure that I never forget any of these moments. When we starting dancing (Me - swaying out of sync) and it started being fun, I blamed it on my alter-ego and planned to get away with the self-critic. Surprisingly, even my sub-conscious doesn't think alter-egos are convincing fake stories. Damn it!

I posthumously realized that when my conscious mind was making these fake stories for my sub-conscious mind, I should have been thinking about how all this so-called-dancing would affect my prospects of reaching the peak the next day! Enough with the spoilers though!!

As the Bus started getting crowded, we slid back to our respective seats and dropped into an almost immediate sleep state.

Disclaimer 2: This piece is going to be very long. Deal with it. I did not sign up for no short story fellas!

WLAN goes trekking

CHAPTER 1
People, Bags and the Plan that never took off.

When I decided to write a trek-a-logue, I had a few aspects to plan before I started writing. Should I be cheesy/realistic/sarcastic/whatever? Should it be short/detailed/come-what-may? Well, like a professional that I am, I got a rusted coin decide my log's fate. After a considerable number of tossing and nudging, the coin and I agreed. My style would be whatever and the length come-what-may.

The Night before:
'How many Engineers does it take to make 40 people board a bus on time?' - 'Forget it! Too many variables'

The original plan was to start form Campus @ 8:00, stop at some dhaba for dinner @ 9:00 PM, scream/yell/booze/dance/sing (whichever applicable) till midnight, catch some sleep, reach by 5:30. Freshen up, have light breakfast and start trekking at 8:00 AM. Funny seeing firsthand how the mind proposes and disposes of all helpful ideas in a matter of minutes, while the disgusting ones seem to linger like the bad aftertaste you just want to shake off.

And to make this Plan work, we had a million discussions.
Sample Discussion:
  "The Bus will start at 8:15 (PM)"
  "No, Let's make it 7:45. So when people actually turn up, it wouldn't be too late"
  ..
  "Everybody, Get your tents at 3:45 from Benares (Yeah, conference rooms are places of worship)"
  ...
  "Try walking 5 Km per day starting a week ahead of the trek to build up Stamina for the actual haul"


The actual itenary:
7:45 PM:  SQUARE 1: No one's gonna be there. Start after 10 minutes. Snooze!!
8:00 PM:  SQUARE 2: Forgot ATM card. Go back to SQUARE 1
8:05 PM:  SQUARE 3: Wait for Buddy to catch up
8:15 PM:  SQUARE 4: All cards and No cash, make Jill a poor lass. Go to ATM
8:20 PM:  SQUARE 5: Cash - Check! Bags - Check! Bragging - ???! Find Friends who cannot make it to the trip.
8:30 PM: SQUARE 6: Try spoiling the weekend for those who can't make it with fantasies about how awesome your trek was gonna be.
8:45 PM: SQUARE 7: Are you trying this for the third time? If yes, Give up and Grow up. Go to SQUARE 11! If no, Better luck next time, Move to SQUARE 8
8:46 PM: SQUARE 8: Forcefully hack Visakh's Matrimony profile. Gang up and give him a hard time. Find suitable boy/girl for everybody around. Someone's gotta get married
9:00 PM: SQUARE 9: Ramble about any place anybody's been to. Filter out photos of each and Rate
9:10 PM: SQUARE 10: Talk about X-Y-Z, Catch up with old friends. Go to SQUARE 7
9:15 PM: SQUARE 11: We should get going!
9:20 PM: SQUARE 12: We should really get going!
9:30 PM: SQUARE 13: We should really really get going!!!
9:35 PM: SQUARE 14: Reached BUS. No one inside? Go to step 14. Else, Climb up and pick random squares, till the bus takes off
9:40 PM: SQUARE 15: Well, how about a quick snack/drink.. Really quick 5 minutes
9:45 PM: SQUARE 16: Everyone decides where to 'snack'.
9:55 PM: SQUARE 17: Orders ready.. Start eating. Big plates.. Lots of food. Did we say Snack? Scratch it. This is Dinner.

 

The Ruler of them all

I stare,
sitting by the curtained window
into the newly painted walls -
the shade of 'Corsican Sky',
as my neighbor says,
I stare,
Hoping, I stare hard and for long
at the invisible building edges
The solid walls melt like wax
disappearing into the faraway sky
Drunk with the indomitable power
that only comes with day-dreaming,
I stare,
Shrinking into a horizontal slit
My eyes now but a sword's edge
I slice through the concrete
Slashing through like a fascist ninja
With just tiny jerks of my head.
I stare,
Conscious of the briefness,
The last few seconds I shall reign
The controller of the built and the existent
Now scared of the slightest whisper,
The rustle of breeze on the curtain,
that could rudely jerk me off my trance.
I now mortally stare,
As consciousness is forced
and I agonizingly transform
from being the ruler of the universe
to an unnoticed speck behind window bars.

A million and One

While happy moments are posthumously glorified
Grief shall not live past the moment,
Yesterday's snow cannot today make me shiver
But repent and guilt, my sir, I shall carry
Long after my tombstone turns green.
A hundred whip-lashes I shall take,
Numbing cold nights I shall gleefully endure
Ridicule and  Contempt, Give me more.
For I know, when the darkness moves
As long as I have no decisions to repent,
I, though painfully inadequate, can learn to smile.
If a million times gloom takes away my light
One and a million times shall I learn to hope
To smile.

Look on

If I have for a moment doubted if I wanted to stand
Against the giant punching bag of criticism
And Ignorant dogmatism of what befits good
Of Conservatives who I had pushed too far,
People, who under the same vision of an impending bag
Had once ducked down and climbed on.

If I have blinked as I did for a moment,
I have shamed the me I once dreamed to be.

The harder you rebel, the harder the blow
But how can a broken nose or a cracked up skull
Be worse than knowing for a fact,
That however hard you try to block it out,
That you have become what you once abhorred.

I, guilty of blinking where I should have looked on
I, guilty that I considered ducking a choice
I have shamed the me I once dreamed to be.

Still, I Look on.
Hoping that The Me I would be could
Forgive this momentary lapse
And be proud that though I didn't hit back
I Looked on and took the blow.

Short-lived Partnership : The corporate cockroach (part 2)

To Part 1

I was in a dire need to prove the superiority of the human race over the infamous Cockroaches to that scheming, sitcom mother-in-law kind of Cockroach in my cubicle. They might have gotten away with the dinosaurs but not with us, the Homosapiens. Repeated attempts of provocation from my enemy led me to loose my cool and that could mean only one thing, WAR. Not that I had any consideration for the rules of war then.

All this happened when I actually started getting used to having a cockroach in my cubicle. No Big deal. People actually have dogs and .... cats! Yes, cats! Those furry little beings that don't care one bit for you but need your pillow. The cockroach I thought would actually be fun to have. Maybe he wasn't trying to irritate me and only wanted to be friendly neighbors.

But then he got "Occupational". He started occupying the interiors of my laptop. He sat in there all day, never came out for lunch or snacks no matter whether the fans were whirring or not. I swear he had a whole deluxe suite inside. Not that I minded, God knows what other bugs were already living in.

Then maybe he was bored of the whole indoor thing, he tried to pop out every 5 minutes. Open-minded as I am, it is still hard not being embarrassed when your pet cockroach decides to be the show stopper in every single show of yours. No matter how interesting you are or how much you know about Harry potter, people seem to ignore all that when they see this cockroach. Some people loved him, some detested him. No matter what, he always took the limelight. That is when I decided to draw them, boundaries.

My rules were simple. He could stay any where in my cubicle. My desk phone, cupboards, the dustbin that I never use, the tangled mess of wires, any document, any useless scrap of paper. He would have complete access to all of those. I would stay away from them as much as I could. The only places he would not be allowed to climb upon were my laptop, my chair and my shoes. It seemed to me that we had a mutually beneficial deal, but being the bug that he was, he did not agree.

The pop-up frequency increased and he was in no hurry to get out of my over-heated laptop. I tried to push him away once and almost toppled off. That was the limit. There was no room for diplomacy with this pest. Oblivious to the 20 odd people within hearing distance sitting around engrossed with their own lives and cockroaches, I got fired up and start charging at him mercilessly.

Ah, trying to hide in the most unreachable region between my docking station and laptop will not work this time. I removed  the laptop and unmindful of what happened to it, dropped it somewhere on my desk and kept track of him with such rapid attention.In a last attempt at gallantry, I pushed him off the table and tried to scare him off with my feet. That's when he did the stupidest thing any soldier who was running away from the battle could possibly do, he climbed onto my shoes. Screw Gallantry! With one final shrug of my legs, he was on the carpet again and I with the fury of a fed-up human killed him with my heavy feet.

I turned back to being the civilized me again, the idea that people could actually see me finally dawned upon me. After a minute of useless staring at the monitor, I turned back remembering his earlier deviousness, to confirm that he was indeed dead. And from the site of the battle and postmortem, I write this final account on how I killed my short-lived friendship and got an ugly stain on my shoe.

Making sense

The question after the huge national upraising for the Delhi Brave heart is "Why did this cause such an uproar while other even worse (Not that any of these crimes are in any sense better than the others!) crimes in the rural, sub-urban settings got nothing more than a 5cm x 4cm article in the 10th page of the lesser popular local dailies (if there was no other actor who got a new 1 crore car, of course).
In a society where a tiger is more important than a parakeet, a human is more important than an animal, a guy more important than a girl, it sure makes sense to extrapolate to an educated girl from a metro being more important than a random rag-picker woman or a farmhand. An animated Vanessa in the Bee-Movie to her Boyfriend who tries to kill a bee, says, "Why is his life any less important than yours?". At this point, to stretch democracy to include bees might be over the top, and possibly even Gender equality might be too much to ask for, that is why I ask, why is one girl's life and happiness any less important than any other.
Just in case you think I am trying to write like goody two shoes, I should say being born a fortunate healthy Eight pound, who wasn't dumped in a dustbin, whose parents didn't care one bit if they needed to buy a pink cake or a blue one, who was entitled to 3 or maybe even more meals a day, who cried only because her toys broke, I, like every one of those on-street/on-facebook protesters, condemned the Delhi rape and moved for stricter legislation. And yeah, I never looked beyond the 5 x 4 articles on the third page of my newspaper after that. Unlucky poor them! But not worth my attention.
The wider question on the workings of the society aside, my question to my own insignificant soul is "Why did one incident haunt me for a week while thousands of others won't even spoil my lazy afternoon naps?". Both were random strangers to me, so why the sympathy bias? The point, I realized was that I cared less for the girl whose dreams of a life-time of happiness and small sorrows was quashed than I did for my own safety. It wasn't that I didn't feel bad for her, I certainly did, just as I felt bad for all those unfortunate girls unworthy of media attention or my time. But the reason I put up those posts was that the devil was closer to me. I, who thought I was safe in this world, was left frozen because 'It could have been me'. The advantages I had of a good home, a happy family and a polished set of acquaintances was not enough to make my selfish being feel safe.
This excruciatingly drawn out confession helped me make sense of the world. A few truly unselfish souls aside, we deep down are self-centered egotistic animals.

Imperfection

The human race unknowingly suffers -
Not for the want of rhyme or word
But for the want of un-thought truth.
For a working brain adulterates its form
and carves it into a beautiful elegant lie
Like the wheel that turns clay to a vase.
The world that exaggerates beauty
Clamors over pots and cares not for clay.
An Incident retold becomes a fable
After a hundred lips have had their glory
An epic is born - glamorously perfect
And of humans : Heroes and Villains made.

The Corporate Cockroach

As metaphorical as the this title may seem, it isn't. This is about a Certain cockroach in a corporate office, in my cubicle if you want the details. When I first noticed him (or a her, I am no Roach-ologist), I was in the course of making an incredible discovery that could solve the world food crisis; Alright, I was surfing the internet; aaarghhh, alright, I was facebooking. But that is not what this post is about, it is about Cockroach Jr.

The protagonist is a brown, not completely unfortunate looking insect belonging to the species Jabumba Jabusa (I am in no mood to google a pest's scientific name, to sound intelligent to you). He was the size of three peas together. Imagine small peas, if you please.

All the time, I had learnt about Cockroaches outliving the dinosaurs I didn't believe. I thought the Roach-ologists were seriously confused when they said that. But when I saw Cockroach Jr come to life after my seventeen unsuccessful and three almost successful attempts to murder, I should admit, the dinosaurs with their bird-sized brains didn't have a chance.

The Intelligent patterns the protagonist adopts in his fight for survival and his urge to irritate me are as follows:

1) They move close to things you do not want to disturb. Glasses, Ceramic plates or like in my case, the laptop with a dock so sensitive that a light breeze could disrupt connectivity.

2) They never run in the same direction for long. They keep their movements hard to predict. For example, when you chase an ant and there is a wall, you know it would take one of the three paths (up, left or right) not in the case of the trained GI Joe cockroaches.

3) They look yuck and by the time you make sure that the file you are holding is ok to have a shapeless squiggly stain, they run out of sight.

4) They come taunt you every possible time when they are prepared, so that when they are really unprepared the probability, that you notice that your chances aren't that futile, is low

5) The most important of them all, the smirking face. That lopsided grin (I bet I saw him look up and smirk at me, kinda like Jerry irritates Tom, as I waited for him to get out of the proximity of my laptop) he gives every time he peeps out of the multitude of wires to provoke me! My self-esteem jumps down a cliff, everytime.

I hated them during Zoology labs, I hated them with all the 'Hit' and 'Lakshman Rekha' I could find and now, I hate them because he is no ordinary enemy.

Roach-er that!

The mighty Clown

Walking along a glittering white beach at dawn,
Feet sinking into the small whirlpools of sand
Which your shoe-d toes are resistant to pull from,
It feels good to be alone when you are not lonely.

The salt stained face to your solitary disgrace
remains, despite your endless wiping, salty.


The untamed wind that has run its course
Dying out of momentum as it meets your face
The casual whistling and the chill it brings
Just like horror movies on Saturday night.


As you watch the mighty sea frustratingly with waves
Wash itself of all land-ly filth, an irritated fool
You remember that dumb dog across your fence
That funnily kept going dizzy trying to catch his tail.

The dejected crescent moon above, lost in her thoughts
Pulls forgetfully the exhausted Poseidon's invisible mane;
And he with a weakened instinct, stands up and stares,
For a moment before his impulsive tide falls
And he continues his never-ending cleansing
He with mock revenge hits back at the shore. 

Amused exceedingly by these childish tirades
You laugh to yourself - A mad fool on a normal day.