Sunday 24 May 2009

When Curses are Blessings

Some of you may know, that we have a new Baba. Abba is passe. Make way for,
*drumroll*
The lord of the universe,
The protector of the innocent,
The decimator of the pseudo-scientists,
The instigator of scientific thought,
The sampler of the delicate rose,
The photographer of the beetle,
The Rose-Beetle Baba, VRD!

So you should guess why he cursed me. We were out on a little trip out of the city. Staying overnight at a village after climbing (and unclimbing) Torna. And we went on and on and on making terrible jokes about the new Baba. He took it quite well for most part, but as the jokes got worse, you could see his expression changing. From the calm and collected look he always has, you could see a pained look entering his face. Finally, he snapped.

[Useful background information]
VRD rejected an IIT to grace our college with his holy presence. Some say that if you know VRD's actual grades, you would have an accurate value of infinity. We usually get grades on a scale of ten. He on the other hand, would be scandalised if he got anything less than ten.
[End of useful background information]

Gathering his reserve, VRD put in as much sneer as a nice chap like him can put into his voice, and cursed me. He thought it was the most terrible curse one could give. He whispered, with a manic grin,
"You, GreySith, You who have insulted me, the holy baba, I curse you! You, will get the paltry result of NINE POINTS for this semester!" A frightening evil laugh followed.

I didn't know what to do. Here I was, struggling to make eight, and he curses that I shall have nine! I found it hard to supress my joy, but I heroically did. I looked at him, glum and sullen, as if it truly was the most terrible thing in the world. He was duly satisfied with my reaction.

The results have come around, and the guy who was struggling to get past eight, has ended up with 8.6! Truly, Jai ho baba!

Tuesday 19 May 2009

Back to the pen, wrinkles

The first news of Dr. Manmohan Singh's new cabinet is beginning to leak out. And the most heartening rumours are that Arjun Singh is unlikely to retain the HRD ministry. For those of you who are unaware, Mr. Arjun Singh is the man (?) who added another set of rules that make general category boys a minority. And it's not just the fact that he did it, it's the manner in which he did. It is quite clear that Dr. Singh had no intention of approving Mr. Arjun Singh's suggestions, so Arjun sigh leaked it to the media, knowing full well that once such things are said, thay can't be taken back. And as the country burned over the issue, Mr. Arjun Singh waxed eloquent about his suggestions. As the cornered PM finally relented, Arjun Singh took all the credit. Vile @^#$^@.

After the 2009 election victory, he tried once again to play the same game, saying that the Congress had been swept back to power because of his actions. And I haven't even started about the 6 (or is it 7?) 'new' 'IITs' that run in single buildings. Way to dilute the most respectable educational institution our country has to offer.

This bitter old pile of bones has singlehandedly pointed the higher educational structure of this country toward ruin (while doing nothing at the lower levels, which is where action is needed). He has punished us, the youth, for his incompetance as a minister of any sort. They say that the the more you complain, the more you act miserable, the longer god makes you live. How true.

And the man tipped to take over, is of course, Kapil Sibal. Thoroughly wronged last time around, he was the minister for science (or something like that, that no one cares for). This time might get a job where he can actually do something for the country. Go on Mr. Sibal! Show a bitter old man how the job's done!

Sunday 17 May 2009

A Letter to the Prime Minister

Dr. Singh,
Congratulations on your emphatic victory in the Lok Sabha elections. Now that the elections are over, and you have won such a fantastic victory, we, the youth of the country have a few demands to make of you. Do not worry sir, we are not going to try and arm twist you into something you don't like. We are not the left, and with our votes, we are infinitely more powerful. Without further ado, here are but a few of our demands:

1. Save our economy. You don't have the baggage of the the left with you this time. You are free to push forward whatever reforms you think are suitable for our country.

2. Save our country. You will have a stable government this time. Take the actions that you think will benefit our country and protect us from our unstabel neighbourhood.

3. Get back Dayanidhi Maran. It's a shame that one of the best ministers from your last cabinet had to be removed from the post due to a tiff with Karunanidhi. His replacement, A Raja has shown his true colours by being caught try to distribute telecom spectrum in an unfair (and most likely, self beneficial) manner. We don't need such ministers.

4. No more tainted ministers. It was understandable that you had to accept Shibu Soren's demands to push the deal through, but no more, sir, NO MORE. Let capability select your ministers, rather than the number of seats they have.

Sir, you have nothing, absolutely nothing, stopping you from running this government they way YOU like it. Do not let the allies stop you from doing what is right for us. We have placed our faith in you in swept you back into power, do not disappoint us. Do not disappoint a country looking for hope, from an intellectual, rather than a politician.

Regards

Sunday 10 May 2009

The bridge that sometimes isn't

Sometime in the 17th century,

Moin-ud-din called his men to stop. This would be the last stop for the day. From here on, they would march to Ambavane and halt there for the night. Torna was still day's march away. But it would fall, in a week, it would fall to the Mughal empire! The maratha spies probably knew of the impending assault on Torna. He was sure though, that he would reach the fort before them. A few minutes rest and then they would proceed to Ambavane. He sent two men to fetch water from the river nearby.

Afzal and Ismail walked the short distance to the bank. Unknown to them, the observer watched. They returned to Moin-ud-din, having collected the water they would need for the night. A few sips were passed around and Moin-ud-din called his men to start marching again. Ambavane was only an hours walk away, across the river.

The observer watched in dismay as the brigade of mughal soldiers approached the gate. The gate had been setup centuries ago by the great ones, and it transmitted once in a day. For men to be around the gate at this time would most likely cause the men to die. This was the reason the observers had been appointed at each gate. They were entrusted with the job of ensuring that no men were around when the gates functioned. This observer noted the time, 7:46 PM, local. In exactly fourteen minutes, the gate at the river would open, and in the process destroy the troops.

He mulled over his options. He was blessed by the great ones with the ability to move objects at will. Moving an entire brigade, however, would take too much time, and a few men would perish at the gate. He could cause freak weather, but he was sure the troops would soldier on. Precious minutes ticked by, he still wasn't sure what to do. The gate was beginning to open. The horses began neighing uneasily. That was the cue he needed. He influenced the minds of the panicked beasts and made them turn away and run in the opposite direction.

And run they did. As the foot soldiers scrambled, first out of the way and then after the horses, the observer heaved a sigh of relief. A few men were injured and the entire brigade scattered in the chaos that ensued. The observer made sure that the chaos directed the men away from the gate.

A few hours later, Moin-ud-din was a furious man. He couldn't make out why the horses had panicked when they did. With the brigade in complete disarray, and many men injured, there was no way that he would be able to mount the planned assault on Torna. As the sun began it's rise on the cold winter morning, Moin-ud-din wondered how he would explain this to the emperor. Some distance away, a contented observer looked on to his duties for the new day.

January 2009,
Two people, on a motorcycle were making a trip to a village by the name of Nasrapur. GreySith and Enthu, as they are known in certain circles, were out on a reconnaissance trip to check a site for astronomical observations. They had started late from the city and it was well past 7 PM as they reached Nasrapur Phata. After they turned from the highway, it had been an uneventful, if a little disconcerting, journey. The long winding road, without any lighting was beginning to give both of them a case of nerves. At that time though, both of them were holding on quite well. They made small talk to overpower the nagging fear of what they would do if they were ambushed by a gang of thieves in the darkness of the night. One half of an hour of riding brought them to the prospective site. They were impressed- the sky had never been so clear before. There was a certain joy in the difficulty they faced in locating constellations! Such was the dispersion of dim stars, permanently faded away in the city, that it was hard to identify the stars that they could see regularly from the city. They certainly were satisfied with the site. Enthu spoke to the owner of the site, discussing the monetary aspect of visiting the site for a day. After the discussions drew to a close, they set out on the return journey.

More of the same pattern followed. A little small talk, covering the nagging fear. It was as uneventful as it had been on the journey to the site, until Enthu suddenly felt a jerk. GreySith was bringing the motorcycle to halt, with all the effects- screeching tyres, a slight skid etc, turned up to the max. He was little surprised, then he looked up. The surprise was swiftly replaced by shock, as he and GreySith looked at a bridge that they had no memory of.
"Oh lord, we're lost!" Exclaimed GreySith.
"It cannot be, we've taken the same route that we took on the way here."
"I tell you, we did not cross that bridge!"
"But it's hardly possible, I'm sure we've not taken a wrong turn."
A little panicked now, GreySith repeated, "We did not cross that bridge on the way here. I am completely sure of that."
Enthu tried to get a hold on the situation, tried to remember if they had crossed bridge. The sith was right, they absolutely had not crossed the bridge. Realising however, that it was safer to be moving than stationary, they decided to keep going straight ahead. A few kilometres later, they were surrounded by the familiar town they had passed on the way to the site. Now relieved, GreySith ventured to talk,
"That's it I suppose. We must've missed it..."
"I suppose so... we're on the right road now, all's okay. Do you want me to ride back to Pune?"
"Sure. Works for me, we'll switch places at the highway."

At the highway, they stopped the bike. GreySith happened to look down at the instrument console of the motorcycle. Thoroughly unnerved, he blurted,
"We... we travelled three kilometres more on the way out..."
"Oh %@&#! We didn't cross the bridge then, did we?"
"I don't think we had, not on the way to the site. And I'm sure that we did not take a wrong turn on the way back. Holy &@$?... what the hell just happened?"
"I've no idea mate, lets just head home..."

A few kilometres away, the observer was amused. He had merely picked up the two diminutive humans and put them far across the bridge, so that they would safely miss the gate when it was open. Having done his job again, he looked forward to a brief rest before he resumed his duties the next day...

(The above is a highly fictionalised account of a true occurrence. Read a more realistic interpretation of events, the way Enthu saw it, here)