The Game Must Go On ………..

Legacy

So the blog is back. This blog has always had a special stature in my life, for it has received all my mental chaos and outbursts. A Facebook status is too restricted a platform! And given the recent spot fixing shit, it’s really difficult for an ardent cricket follower to focus on other things in life.

When I was a kid, I always wanted to play cricket in the neighbourhood. I fantasized myself batting, bowling and fielding spectacularly, reading the game on television, performing daily rituals of newspaper articles, following cricketers, their lives and what not! But alas, I was too inappropriate to fit into the physical demands of the game. I would gasp for breathe after running for a single, produced the slowest and most ridiculous of deliveries for the batsmen to hit sixes, could never learn how to hold a bat properly and while fielding, the ball would never stick to my hands. I realized the limitations well, and hence, I shifted my desire to be involved in the game to sitting on the couch and read it. Too poor to play, and too desperate to get involved, I would umpire and chose commentary in school whenever I got opportunity.

My first memory of watching a cricket match goes back to 1998; I don’t remember watching a cricket match before that. For a 1990 born, my love for watching the game grew, ironically, after Sachin had just finished with the most glorious times in his life, post Sharjah ’98. I grew my sense of understanding watching the ’99 World Cup, when Rahul Dravid arrived. I would watch cricket endlessly, reading the shots, playing them in my mind, listening to commentators, muting the television set and doing commentary of my own.

My fanfare for the game began when Saurav became captain, and since then, Indian Captains have always been my favourite players, inspiring my life for all they would do. I grew up parallel to the accent of Indian cricket in the 2000s. I would see Sachin repeatedly fail and getting injured, Laxman and Kumble winning overseas test cricket with unmatchable grit, Rahul Dravid saving the Indian asses from shameful defeats countless times, and Ganguly building a new decade from scratch and legacy to follow.

I admired all of them, and since everyone was at their career bests except for Sachin, they all became my role models. They still are.

I watched Ind-Aus in 2001. I remember I was jumping for the whole day after the Kolkata test, difficult to control emotions. I watched the 2003 World Cup. I cried in ecstasy whenever India won, and I cried after the finals. But the way my role models went from zero to hero within three years, they all inspired me to do well in life, to achieve something, to feel that nothing is impossible. They inspired my whole generation.

I would sneakily turn on the television at 3am in 2004, when India shattered Steve Waugh’s final dream. When Ganguly set the tone in Brisbane with 144, when Dravid made history in Adelaide, and when Sachin never played a cover drive in his 241* in Sidney, I was overwhelmed by the heroism. They were true rockstars; they definitely blew me away.

I watched all Indo-Pak ODIs in 2005, when Ganguly declined and Dravid took over the captain’s reigns. If Ganguly gave birth to Zaheer, Harbhajan, Kaif and Yuvraj, Dravid created a whole new subset of youngsters within him. I was stunned by the way Irfan, Dhoni and Raina suddenly arrived into the scene. Dravid had always been my favourite as I imagined him a warrior who would never die. But post 2005, his stature grew enormously, with the way he created an all-rounder out of Irfan, a finisher out of an Afridisque MS Dhoni and an emerging middle order batsman in Suresh Raina.

Indian Cricket and its timeline became a never-ending thesis for me. It resembled falling and emerging kingdoms under changing leaderships, with newer warriors and heroes taking birth and dying. I used to create parallels out of it with my History chapters, in which I was equally fascinated by Mughal Empire and its interesting battles!

I stopped following cricket for two years before JEE. It was a difficult choice, but I was able to do that. I missed most of Dravid’s captaincy, the 2007 Caribbean WC and yes, even that historic T20 World Cup when Dhoni entered the scene. I missed the first edition of IPL ’08, and another historic CB series in 2009. I missed Tendulkar’s double hundred, I missed India’s overseas test victories under Dhoni for my own chaos at IITD.

But as a few would believe, all these matches on Youtube boast a significant share of my repeated viewing …… to the extent that I should cram up the commentators’ words, to cover up for all my indifference to the game for the lost 4-5 years.

I love the game because of Rahul Dravid, for I would chose him, out of all, to save my life if I ever get a chance.

I love the game because of Tendulkar, for his cover drive, on drive, straight drive, upper cut, third man pull, leg stump flick, square drive and the step-out sixes ……… they all create goose bumps, they all make me feel privileged!

I love the game because of Ganguly, for his aggression which should not be confused with arrogance, for his style, for his motivation, for his smiles, for showing the world that an Indian Captain need not be stereotype.

I love the game because of Dhoni, who would display inhuman control over his mind while chasing a target, who taught me that an ordinary person like me can achieve anything given s/he believes in self; who taught me that given the limited talent one has, one can pull out wonders in life with focus, concentration and keeping things simple!

I love the game because of Harsha Bhogle, who would never mince a wrong word, and who would always present both sides of the coin.

I love the game because of Ravi Shastri, whose voice thunders on the mike, creates sensations within my body, and provides a fitting respect to the heroism of individuals out there on the field.

I love the game because of those fringe players in IPL teams, who would learn from the great players in the dressing room, would throw their bodies to save runs, would complement in the partnerships, and would do anything to take crucial wickets for their great captains.

Sometimes, it feels strange when people around me are quick to give judgements. They are quick to accuse a cricketer of fixing, spurning him off if he gets out quickly, giving expert opinions as to what he should not do and why he is an asshole. They are quick to shout anti-slogans for a team they don’t like. That’s okay, but then they also give fantasy-created justifications for why a team/ a player would be an ass.

Its difficult for me to understand the people around. If I love a team, I can never disrespect the team playing against it, because in the end, it’s the game which I love, not an individual or a team! Its extremely difficult for me to disrespect a cricketer if he gets out on a duck, for the simple fact that we all make mistakes.

A cricketer would face and resolve more challenges in an ODI than what an ordinary person like us would face and might not resolve in a full year of college life! Beating a batsman outside off or hitting a four off a wonderful length delivery is a satisfaction ordinary people like us would never be able to understand. And perhaps that’s the beauty of cricket, or any other sport for that matter! It brings out undiscovered capacities of human mind, unparalleled depths of concentration and unmatchable bravery within a single over of 6 balls!

A non-sports person would never be able to reach that charisma of an international sport. It will always be a fantasy for us …… as to how a Brett Lee produces 160 km/hr or a Laxman can bat for 15 hours in scorching heat in front of fiercest bowlers of the world for a 281.

I don’t want my kids to laugh me off when I tell them that Cricket was the only game I followed, and it significantly shaped the motivation behind the decisions I have taken in life.

The current state of affairs is sad.

For all its beauty, the game must go on ……..

 

The Blood

[Some blog post after one and a half years]

Some Piya: Some 23 years: Working. Cool ….. here she goes …..

I always told them, Sameer and alcohol can NOT go together. Every time they throw up a booze party, he is either found wandering aimlessly on midnight South Delhi roads or he ends up calling me as soon as his mercury rises. I never attend any of those. Those fanatic bachelor hang-outs or late-night blowouts or riots or whatever they call them. But Sameer is like! He is born to live fanatically! He loves to dance, to whirl his body the whole night, to yell aimlessly, to clink glasses, to lose his senses and measure the walls of the discotheque. He loves to slump deliberately over hot girls and earning slaps; he relishes them! He clicks photographs with all those hot metropolitan chicks he encounters every weekend while on their random bachelor hang-outs. He is very careless. He knows he messes up whatever he does whenever he is drunk, and that he should NOT drink. But he is Sameer and he never ever listens to me.

I love him and he knows that. I proposed him, say told him 3 months back, and asked him if he wants to be in a relationship. He refused then; he still refuses to be in one. He reasons that I am a great friend, but somehow, he doesn’t feel like, you know, feel like being in a relationship with me. In short, though he is never blunt, but he means that he, he doesn’t love me. And for all those two years of unexpectedly longer friendship, he has all the right to say that! It’s my fault after all that I ended up loving him. And that he screws around all night every weekend from one girl to another doesn’t bother me. Though he has never told me about any of his one-night stands, Rambo told me once. I tell you, it doesn’t bother me. Actually it does, but then, it’s not that big an issue. He is under no obligation not to screw around with those chicks. Neither he is in a relationship, nor he wants to be into one. Who am I to tell him whom to fuck and whom not to.

Leave it. Rambo called me at 10:15pm and panicked that Sameer had gone bizarre, shattered a few mirrors at Dunnhumby night club and was mumbling my name on repeat mode since an hour. Its 10:25pm, and I am on my way, driving to GK-II, nothing new, to take him back to his apartment.  Let him die Piya, why should you bother? He never comes to rescue you when you need him. He never calls you back when you cry. But then, it was never about me or what I liked. He could have definitely been taken to his villa without me. But I was addicted; I needed a reason to be with him. I was miserable.

“Quick! Else he’ll burn them alive!” Rambo laughed out loud, locked my car in a hurry and literally pulled me up the stairs. Sameer was doing some serious shit, he said. He told more of his stories as we climbed the first floor, and his words faded in the deafening uproar of the disc.

“Here you go”, he shouted into my ears as we opened the door and entered the chaotic clamour. Rambo disappeared in the dark; a flicker of sparkling lights was the only aid to visibility. I spied inside every corner to search for Sameer. So desperate I was to have him in front of me. I will slap him as soon as he comes in front, I said to myself. And then I saw him, over the counter. He was leaning over some girl. She wasn’t a girl, a woman in fact. I wore a jeans and a top, she adored the shortest one-piece. I pulled him off his shoulder, “Sameer!” I shrieked into his ears.

“Piya!” he bellowed back melodramatically and almost fell. He spilled his mug with little beer over my top. That wasn’t a concern. I looked at the woman who responded with a wide grin. I replied back with a suspicious smile. I pulled Sameer up to the counter again. “Piya, she is Riya. Riya, Piya. Piya, Riya!” and he laughed into tears. I made sure he doesn’t fall again. That Riya gave a devilish laugh as well. She was as drunk as he was.

I felt a strange little insecurity. “Sameer, come with me. There’s too much of smoke in here. We’ll go up to the roof.” I ensured that Riya doesn’t come up, and despite lot of his protest, I took him to the roof. He tumbled ‘n’ number of times through the staircase.

Surprisingly, there was no one on the roof. Else it was an all-night spot for smokers who weren’t permitted inside. We sat on the lounge sofa, Sameer leaned over me. I had a thousand thoughts rolling within my head. Never I wanted to see him in such a miserable situation. Unexpected tears stood on the verge of explosion. I felt a little tremble in my hands. There was Sameer, lying on my lap, mumbling and yelling and crying unknowingly. We were friends for two years, but never had he been physically so close to me. I took his hands into mine. I don’t know what I am going to do. I feel sudden temptations to do everything that I wanted to do with him; suddenly tempted to commit all crimes and to fulfil all my ambitions that he would never permit in senses. I positioned his right arm around my waist and his left hand on my face. I don’t know if he will remember all that the next morning. He was out of his senses I am sure; he was mumbling and yelling and crying unknowingly. Tears fell down from my eyes on to his face. Why would he not love me, and why would he not accept my proposal! I wept and wept, and kissed him on his forehead. He wasn’t aware of what was happening all around. I bent forward to kiss him on his lips. Just a little more distance, we almost did.

“Sameer!” entered Riya through the roof door. Sameer sprung up on her voice and sat up straight on the sofa. I wiped away my tears with the tissue and behaved as if nothing had happened. Why should I feel guilty? What for should I be guilty of? I was unaware. Riya tumbled over a beer bottle and fell over the sofa. I got up and before I could take some action, Sameer had caught her into his arms. They hugged as tightly as inseparable and began to laugh monstrously. I stood and watched, and he kissed her on her lips.

It wasn’t a kiss. It was so passionate a smooch, out of absolute lust, that I held my own breath for a moment. Tears weren’t there in my eyes; eyes were so engrossed watching the vigour. They fell down on the floor and rolled once or twice over each other. They smooched harder. He tore apart the zip of her one-piece; she tore his shirt. Now that she was naked, he opened his belt. There was only so much passion a human body can exhilarate. I watched the animalistic crudeness. She unbuttoned her bra, and he found his hands within it. I watched, dumbstruck.

As soon as he buried his face within her bust, I turned my face away. I trembled, and tears burst out. I covered my face with my hands. I actually hid myself from me. He wasn’t the Sameer for whom I wasted two precious years of my life. Why should I want to watch him fuck that whore, but so miserable I was that I turned again to the matinee scene. I watched him fuck her and listened to those loud screams of hers. I found myself wet underneath. Blood was boiling within. I felt an electric rush within my body, my legs were shaking, and before I could think whether I should take a decision or not, I took a bottle full of beer, shouted on top of my lungs and broke it on his ass as forcefully as I could.

The bottle didn’t break properly, it just leaked. His ass did break for sure. Poor man, he was just about to climax. Riya could not take the pressure, she chocked as she screamed. I felt relieved. I felt relaxed. I came down to my car, wiping away my tears. Blood was streaming from my right foot; a little piece of the bottle tore apart my skin. I didn’t care. I drove my car into reverse gear and came out of the street to the main road. I took a quick turn, and raced towards my home.

If those two years were painful to wait, that one moment of watching your loved one fucking someone else was liberating. I smiled and laughed while driving. It was 11.30pm. I called my dad, and told him how much I loved him. I called countless of my friends that night; friends whom I ignored for past several months, thanks to my Sameer addiction.

I got 23 calls from Sameer the next day. Needless to say, I did not receive one. He never called me again. I tried to never think of him. It was difficult, but I learnt. I once met Riya at Barista, we hugged each other. She never met Sameer after that disastrous day. She got married two months back; I sat with the couple for two hours and we are really good friends.

But sometimes, I do remember that blood that rushed from my foot that night. After all, it was the first and the last blood that did not cause any pain. The blood was refreshing in itself. It was liberation. It was discovery. It was something new. It was me.

 

BRCA: Institute of Indian Technology

 

[ 1. After the Eastern Night Disaster Management.

2. A blog post for everyone who is presently studying in IIT Delhi. 

3. I have written a similar post in the past (18 months ago) : https://snehilbasoya.wordpress.com/2010/02/09/iit-delhi-identity-crisis/ ]

 

Fortunately, I was never a BRCA Club Secretary.

Fortunately, I was never a Cultu.

Fortunately, I am not a Rendezvous Coordinator.

And fortunately, I never got a ‘Significant Contribution Award’ for some ‘Outstanding Contribution’ in some ‘Best Club’ of IIT Delhi.

I am simply a mere student who performs in a few street plays every year and occurs in some stand-up appearances in some of the stage events where entertainment is required.

Hence, as I write this blog post, I feel independent of all bias and all pressure. There is no student authority over me.

 

Now, I am debarred of:

 

‘Abiding’ to the interests of a few individuals (those-who-must-not-be-named)

To ‘ensure’ a few club trophies, BRCA winners, BWP, BSW trophies, Best Rep, Best Club, Best Secretary and what not

To ‘satisfy’ the sentiments and egoism of those few individuals who

‘Take the advantage’ of the labour class (poor freshers and reps) to sweat and bleed for the benefits of those who sit and decide, literally, everything in IITD that seems to be a healthy competition (BRCA).

 

I am often accused of being a politician, having done so many ‘commendable’ jobs in Aravali Hostel in past. I accept, I am one. But then, I am proud to state that I never ‘played around’ with the talents and enthusiasm of youngsters by interfering the natural course of Inter-Hostel events. Even TnP can not challenge me over that.

And what hurts me the most is the ‘quality’ of people who sit in the ‘deciding panel’ for such trustworthy job. They fall under two categories:

1. Those who have themselves worked relentlessly for their first two-three years in several events in IITD.
2. And those who are of no use either by talent or by their behaviour or social circle or common-sense.

Both of them do not have a right to create a BRCA full of illusions by pulling off advantages out of the ignorance of the masses.

This post is not to defame any Club Secretary or the General Secretary. They are poor people. They are helpless. They fear to go against those who were instrumental in their election. My sympathies with them.

 

As a representative of the performing and participating class, I simply have questions.

Why do we practice? Why do we perform?

When every event is pre-planned and in most of the cases, even visible!

When the labour of 15 days is ruined by someone who has never picked up a guitar or sung a song.

 

I personally feel poor. I have lost confidence that I can ever survive in this ‘purposeful’ world.

A request to all those conferencing in closed rooms with Marlboro in hands:

Spare us please.

 

Yours

Victim.

 

‘Are you Anna?’ … ‘Sorry, I am not.’

[Disclaimer : comments, not debates are requested. I am exhausted with debates over the days 🙂 ]

A letter to Mr. Anna Hazare

Dear/Respected Mr. Anna Hazare

I am a young citizen of India. I spurn corruption. And I support you in your movement against those brazen brats of government race.

I came to meet you with prospects of assurance in the Ramlila Maidan too, yesterday. You were busy reciting ‘Raghupati Raghav’, sitting alone on the grand stage, with a carnival mob of thousands in front of your eyes down the level, and a 25 cross 25 portrait of Mahatma Gandhi behind you. I have some issues with that though, I will come to it later.

I, on behalf of the young student community, the middle class and the upper-middle class community, the exhausted and the deprived community and the morally raped community, hereby, extend support to you.

I want to salute the spirit of a seventy four year old veteran who took to the challenge of Action and Initiation. In a country where everyone is a first in ‘criticizing’, ‘denouncing’ and ‘lambasting’ who-so-ever comes in their way, it were you who ACTUALY took a step forward. And, that too, in a stupendous fashion: 64 years of prolonged carnage after independence, and today you unite millions of ‘Indians’ against the reason of every plague: corruption.

The government is brainless. It is all set to lapse sooner or later. The opposition is spineless and fragile than ever. Next elections, you might have to stride yourself in the absence of a leadership. My vote is with you.

I can’t vote Rahul Gandhi.

I won’t vote Advani.

I forgot here to mention, in the midst of all of this drumbeat ……. like everyone in this country …….. that there exists some Bill for which you are taking fast. Hope you get your work done and get us rid of all nuisance soon.

Don’t worry, I will support you.

Sir, I have certain issues to sort clearance from you.

I won’t comment on how effective Jan Lokpal is or can be or will be. There are profound and capable people sitting there with you out there. They surely know better than each one of us. We trust you here. Don’t betray that trust.

My first concern: I would like to raise questions on the sanctity of your movement.

You began with the voices against corruption. You proceeded by hitting on public sentiments of grievance and defeat (nothing wrong, this was the only way). You raised yourself by raging a war against a government for its ridiculous behaviour in combating the bias (of course, nothing wrong again).

But the war that should have been between ‘the oppressed mass of the nation’ and ‘the oppressors and their oppressing policies’ has turned out to be a war between ‘Anna Hazare’ and ‘the government’. The war has lost its way. The war is no longer a movement. It looks more like an adamant tussle between two groups. The masses are blaming Congress for all the hardships the country has faced ever. The masses are looking towards you as the Gandhi of today’s. The reaction is unarguably exaggerated. In fact, too much exaggerated.

And you have enjoyed the process so far.

Your Ramlila Maidan is the new picnic spot. Juice shops and ‘annual-mela’ typos are becoming the primary concern for mob. You say the mob belongs to upper-middle class. No sir, the queue for free food and bananas is anytime way longer than the assembled flags in front of the stage. Policemen are taking 100/- bribes from Auto-walas to allow them near the vicinity of the ground. Parents are taking their kids to your ground to buy them Anna caps and ice creams. Outside, there runs a surge of bikers with tricolours whole day with slogans of ‘Anna Zindabad’ and ,Vande Mataram’. The bikers can’t be controlled however rash they drive (most of them drive drunk). In fact, no one can be controlled whatever is done in Delhi today. Police is helpless. There are no rules. Because ‘we are doing it for Anna’. People party all night at India Gate being drunk and raising slogans of India and anti-corruption. Tomorrow, girls can be raped anywhere and people will say ‘Sorry, we were supporting Anna’.

Girls from DU are of course there in processions for glamour quotient. They shout vehemently, ‘Anna, we are with you!’ . But it is no more a struggle for corruption. It seems more of a party time for them. There are photo sessions like they do when they attend Rendezvous (our cultural festival, do come, we will have a few more in the mob).

I searched for ‘the seriousness’ and ‘the cause’ for a complete hour in your Ramlila Maidan. The only seriousness I found was near the stage where thousands of tricolours looked like exhibiting some purpose. I joined the shouts. I joined the ‘support’. They screamed against the government. I did. They bellowed against the corruption. I did. They cried for the people of India. I did. It is already happening in every part of India for years. What was new?

They shouted for Anna Hazare. I took a pause. I did it too. I waited for more. There was nothing else that was new.

Announcements were being made to maintain the decorum while you stand in queue for “Anna’s Darshan”. I am sorry sir, but I have no interest in taking your blessings. What I want is a corruption-free India and a strong Jan Lokpal Bill that inhibits maximum possible means within the constitutional boundary to combat the corrupt and provide needful to the needy. I respect you, but don’t think I will come to the ground to seek you and sing songs with you. I suddenly pondered what I was doing standing there.

That brings me to my Second Concern: the Caps.

I have a small and feasibly logical request.

Millions of caps/topi, ribbons, props, balloons. T-shirts are being distributed across New Delhi (not distributes exactly, marketed in factual terms) carrying the words ‘Anna is India’ and ‘Are you Anna?’ and ‘Kya aap Anna hain?’ and ‘We are Anna’.

I just want that these slogans be changed to some like

‘We want a Strong Lokpal Bill’

I assume that might strengthen and support your cause equally, if not more strongly.

I am exhausted; haven’t written a letter for long. My third and last concern: the Gandhi portrait behind you on the stage.

I could figure out two implications.

It could be that you are being looked upon as another Gandhi. I hope this is not the frame of reference. If, it is, then it is unfortunate. Pity on the protestors; they can’t be more idiotic. Pity on the Congress; they had a Gandhi once. And pity on the Indian masses; why are they letting this happen.

It could also be that your movement is being looked upon as a Gandhian movement, i.e., an assemblage and approach on similar lines to Gandhian tactics.

If it is, I don’t find it so. A commercialised and market movement giving employment to thousands, a movement that is taking time out of our own economy, own governance and own people was not the way what Gandhi did. [This is sensitive topic sir. Gandhi has always been a controversy and an infinite debate. You better keep yourself away from him.]

Hmm ….. I don’t think I have more to say. I won’t come to your Maidan again. You should take care of your health. India’s best doctors are by your side. We pray for your well-being and well as the nation’s.

We want a strong Lokpal Bill.

We are tired of corruption. We want to minimize it, if not finish it off.

We don’t want ‘Anna vs Congress’ if there is no cause left.

Thank you.

Yours sincerely.

Audience.

 

The Fantastic Four

The blog belongs to four of my seniors, who graduated this year, leaving me behind with bare recollections. With them, I will always be a kid, a fachcha, and someone who has the undoubted right to make all mistakes of life in front of them. Won’t spend much time in ‘bhoomika’, here I go ….

Janmejay Pratap Singh

Janmejay

There must be something that he is always the first person that comes to my mind when I switch on conceiving the most influential persons I have met ever.

And that’s the truth, the unchallengeable fact that whatever the shutdowns, whatever his mistakes and whatever his experiences, exclusive and uncommon, Janmejay Pratap Singh IS influential.

To such an extent that he leaves immortal imprints on your memory lanes; eternal and blissfully motivating.

I first met him, rather I must say, I first ‘saw’ him when I was in my first year. The first time I got his glimpse was in 2008 Rendezvous Auditions, the DnD Rep of Vindhyachal Hostel. Within a few more glimpses, he was my hero.

An epitome of infinite energy. The perpetual and absolute creativity.

Always on his toes.

When he is working, he is a child …… innocent, playful, mischievous and athletic.

He thinks, and moreover, he makes you think too. The whole surroundings start acting like him when he is around.

He inhibits such a characteristic expertise of carrying the world with his flow.

And there was no surprise when I and Polar left the Rendezvous Stage Play mid-way in 2009 for the Street Play, for Janmejay and Manoj were the Directors.

For me, it was a dream come true. And the rest is legacy.

Janmejay creates worlds.

He innovates everything that is existing.

An expressive poet, a prolific writer, an explicit Actor, an unmatchable Director, a pioneer movie-maker and most importantly, a provocative philosopher.

He watches, he observes, he feels and he takes actions.

Yups, he FEELS.

His life is governed by what and how he feels.

The world is fortunate, for he feels for himself after finishing everything else in this world.

There have been occasions when I was the reason for his anguish and pain. My emotions often clash with his. Several things are automatically said. But many remain unspoken …… forever.

Words fall short for the man who taught me everything ……. Janmejay Pratap Singh.

Manoj

Manoj

One of his own Gods, he believes and does what he believes.

Incredible Style Statement

He starts when he feels like and stops when he chooses to.

You can’t question, and you shouldn’t.

He lives and he rules.

Enjoys dangers and misfortunes, life becomes boring and uneventful otherwise.

Lives on the edge.

Makes efforts.

Enjoys in his own symphony. When he is in mood, there is no stopping.

Manoj – An excellent dramatist.

Natural talent in fusion with self-induced genius and mastered sophistication.

Will love to watch him on a Theatre Stage professionally some time, Solo.

In resonance with Kumaon.

As the Street Play 2008 Team Mate …….. Respect, for being the most sincere and talented person I had got acquainted with.

As the Street Play 2009 Director …… Respect, for everything that followed!

As in Rendezvous 2010 ……. Respect, for being a stupendous Coordinator of BRCA events.

And yes, Manoj is someone ……

Who knows what to bother about and what not to.

Who can recognize the upcoming headaches far before, but it’s his own wish whether to enjoy them or avoid.

Who distinguishes between right and wrong in perplex to complex situations with a cup of tea in hand (Milds will work though)

Who doesn’t care about anyone in the world, but then, he doesn’t even care about himself.

The person from whom I have learnt the most as a person.

From whom I have tried to imbibe the best of his qualities ….

…… Confidence

…… ‘Never say die’ attitude.

…… ‘World at my feet’ attitude.

…… ‘No matter the failures and distress, my time will come’ attitude.

…… ‘Everything is in my hand, there is nothing called destiny’ attitude.

If I am asked who would you like to be, my answer is unanimous.

Keshav Agarwal

Keshav

The Pissu

The Miranda

The Role of Honour

Met him first during 2009 Street Play Practices (didn’t know for many days that he was senior to me)

He was ‘tu’ for everyone while the play was on.

The day play was done, he became an ‘aap’.

Immense time spent, thoughts bifurcated, experiences acquainted and opinions shared during last two years

The only person I will be ready to die for !!! (conditions apply :P)

One of those rare commodities who can match me when I am in form (you know what !)

He is always there to help you

He is always there to sort you out

How can a GUY be so caring and fostering, I could never figure out

Call him anytime during night and he is ready to drive through the vast roads in Polar’s gaddi, with music on, with smiles persisting and tension gone!

The basic principle he radiates all around …… “Shaant raho, sukhi raho”

Those countless walks on the Insti roads

The life and works of Chop

The V.V.P. and the Pink Pissu

Those endless lethargic night-outs at Wind-T

Those intense discussions ‘on and with’ Manoj Meena (Zanskar !!)

Those crazy nights when smoke wasn’t ready to terminate

Those insane hours when money was thrown like hell

Those bus journeys to Gurgaon for door to door service, “Fest ke liye paise de do.”

Those Corner-corner games of which me too became a member (though quite later)

Those moments of celebrations at IIT Kanpur

Those lasting satisfactions in ‘Are You Single’

Those days when Noida and Gurgaon became one

And those moments when you don’t think of anything else, except the moment itself.

And yes, Keshav Agarwal is the man ……

Who has so much to say, but will prefer silence and observation

Who will never say a ‘NO’

Who believes in finding solutions, quick and radical

Who is soft at heart but as strong as an unpenetrable aura of being omniscient

Who is an ever-learning player of life

Who learns and imbibes from everyone and anyone

For him, the world and its achievements are very small to achieve.

Life is big, make it large.

Will miss him the most.

Karan Gupta

Karan

His time spent with me won’t be close to even a fraction of that with any of the above three. Still, such has been his impact on my life in such a short duration that I had no other option than pouring out a few words out here !

Karan Gupta – The mind and the brain.

Met him first when he was entering into his final year. (And me in my third).

God knows where the hell he laid himself before that !!!

The Rendezvous 2010 Marketing Team.

Don’t know about Rendezvous, but what mattered more to me each and every time I talked to him was, “Karan Gupta sab kuch kaise jaanta hai !!”

And for the first time I met a person ……………

Who could answer any question I ask him.

Who seemed a purposeful blend of work and fun.

Who was ever smiling despite the suffocating VIP room, despite all disappointments and despite all undesirable surprises of time.

Who was never frustrated when work didn’t go the way he wanted; even if he was, he would never show it.

Who was as clever as assertive.

Who knew what he was doing and why he was doing, whatever he did.

Who impressed me with his decency and command on what he speaks (there aren’t many of such a kind in IIT).

Who speaks with his eyes, they seem to pierce you; you are caught once you meet them and you can never leave them without his consent.

Who speaks even more with his smiles; he would leave the person to ponder, as to what that vivacious and uncomprehending and perplexing smile actually meant !

Who is more hidden than exhibited; you need to clear many a tests (that’s his beauty) to win his trust and proximity

Who is a splendid amalgamation of reason and emotion.

Who is, though, more of a bit lost in the world of possessions and materials and obsessions that may or may not be meaningful for him, yet he will run.

Who isn’t using even a minutest of his potential.

But then, as he passed out, I feel like losing a mentor whom I used to meet lesser than even once a week. I feel his smile throughout. The very mention of the word Kara never reminds me of anyone else. Many a situations I imagine how Karan Gupta would have sorted it out, and I am out of it.

Many a times I have spoken and thought ill of him (the ever dismissing Poltu season). He might have been right, he might have been wrong; how does it matter !!!

Man, he is Karan Gupta and I am proud to have shared a few puffs and seldom of those unforgettable shots with him.

[@Avikant Bhardwaj ……. Wait till next year 😛

@Mohit Agarwal …….. Missed you the most for last three years. Blame it on me, or blame it on situations. The realization came the day we went to Mandi House together !!!]

 

This House Believes That We Are Ethical : Part Two

11th March, 2011

With this, ladies and gentlemen, I rest my case. 🙂

 

This House Believes That We Are Ethical ….. [Part One]

Demand of the Season

 

[Format adopted from my little stints in Ara EDLC practices under Tulsani and Jojo. A request to the EDLC guys – please don’t go for the technicalities and counters. This is just a mere format !!! No offences meant, liberty of expression :)]

 Ladies and Gentlemen. Greetings.

The queer motion presented before the house is that THBT We Are Ethical, and we, as the proposition, will support the motion.

We define the house as the House of rational people of IIT Delhi. Here, people refer to the students who are involved in all sorts of works and activities which can be deemed as either ethical or ….. ethical.

Ladies and Gentlemen, over the years, with the emerge of changing world scenarios, IITians have evolved drastically in decision making processes, be it within their academic choices, or professional choices, or choices in relationships and friendships, choice between Sassi and FX, or choice between Classic Mild and Marlboro Gold, or between MAL120 and breakfast, and all small and large domains which the life of an IITian can circumscribe. We want these so-called ‘decisions’ and so-called ‘policies’ , as they say, to bring out an overall development of the student, and we define it as our Burden of Proof.

We will prove that all these decisions and policies exist far above the definitions of right and wrong, and hence, the term ‘ethical’ in itself has no significant existence as such. But even if the house is adamant in defining it, then we shall prove that every action of ours is ethical ladies and gentlemen and we, with our actions, are ethical.

I structure my debate as follows. I will take you through following domains of the life of an IITD student and will prove to you how the poor chap is ethical in EACH domain.

1. The Student Politics (Internal).
2. The Student Politics (External).
3. Friendships and Relationships.

 Picking them up one by one ladies and gentlemen, firstly the Internal Student Politics.

Ladies and gentlemen, the whole dirty game of Internal Politics is based on acquisitions and claims and lobbying and stories and kidnappings and firauti and Zanskar basement and other unethical props like Rs.15,000 and Maruti Van and so on. Yes ladies and gentlemen we DO ‘kidnap’ students for 15,000 bucks, release them on exchange of firauti and offer the amount obtained to another chap who can vote for our party. This is completely ethical ladies and gentlemen as only the transaction of money is involved, it is not ‘wasted’ or ‘spent’. This is conservation of money if you haven’t heard. Also, without any violence or agony, we get two new votes as the guy who was released will also vote for us out of fear !!! We are followers of peace, ladies and gentlemen.

Ladies and gentlemen, kidnapping has been our childhood passion and right from the very birth, we all have been dreaming of becoming ‘kidnappers’ and for God’s sake, we have by mistake fallen into this asshole named IIT Delhi where we have NOTHING ELSE to do ladies and gentlemen except for following the bestowed ethical work ‘kidnap’. 

We IITians pay special stress on dealing with people. Yes ladies and gentlemen, no one talks to any one without a motive and the motive varies from person to person, depending on his background, his ambitions, his desires, his family, favourite girl, his most fucked up exam and what not !!! Yes ladies and gentlemen, we lay a lot of CLAIMS on people, sometimes on their friends, sometimes on their seniors. We claim the work done by the opposition as done by us. We aren’t afraid. Any false story we convert into a ‘truth’ and the truth is spread like havoc. Poor chaps don’t have sources to investigate and hence, loyalties change.

This is completely ethical ladies and gentlemen as we IITians know that loyalties are bound to be on one side. This is how universe runs. Altered facts are essential for the survival of the govt. else the opposition is ready outside, waiting for the prey, pouring saliva with blood red eyes. We are followers of Charles Darwin and Lord Krishna, ladies and gentlemen.

We OFFER a same position to five different individuals ladies and gentlemen, hoping that at least, hoping that at least one of those five may end up on our side !!! We deal with larger avenues, we believe in all round development. Hence, we also offer Inter-IIT selections and selections in Rendezvous Stage Play Teams. We have introduced this scheme this year only. 

Yes ladies and gentlemen, we will win again, for the consecutive term, for all those lesser mortals shall cry.

Snehil Basoya

[Coming next – Part Two]

 

Breathe: Impressions of the Nostalgic Feb

Rains are fresh, sun shines are falling in the eyes as never before, and the breezy winds are bringing with them loads of stored renaissances left for me to retrieve.

Yes, February is nostalgic.

For all those impressions imprinted on my curtains which have been memorable. Curtains, which fly any time in this breeze, leaving peepholes exposed, to be viewed into, to be Re-discovered.

February is the season of the Change,

It’s the season of the Reverting back to the past days.

And it’s the season, when I love to breathe.

For all that coldness with which the wind spits hard on my face, with dancing hair, with eyes closed, and hence, the Lights Camera Action !

For all that hypnotism with which the fragrances engulf me, conspiring, for me, and protecting against

For all that brightness with which I see my reflections ably and aptly on the roads, for all those reflections look back at me.

For all those voices through the earphones, as if Rahman returns the same time every year.

For all those musics which complement and supplement the aura. Gustavo Santaolalla.

For creativity never dies, it just follows the metamorphosis.

For the urge for happiness, the surge for satisfaction and the merge of heart and intellect within.

For those challenges that behold, and the wars uproar, I wonder yet again if I am the right person.

February leaves questions, its not that straight.

……………. Feb is abrupt, Feb surprises.

Feb induces, it paves way forth.

Feb is energy, controlled and fashioned.

And yes, Feb doesn’t act, it just sings and dances !

Snehil Basoya

PS-

1. Feels nice to give ‘decent and improved’ minors after a long time !!!
2. Loving the courses and course contents ….
   
3. Loved Dhobighat. It is not a movie, it is Poetry.
4. Someone give me 10 days in a week !!!
5. Riding on a spiritual wave …… 🙂

 

Life has a Meaning !!!

Each time I open up my eyes with the sun, I have a complete day in front of me. Each morning prompts me to set up plans and fabrications of the day in my hands. The day passes in no time, night rules and the 5 minutes before sleep prompt me again to ponder ……. Was the day meaningful?

Every day need not be meaningful. It may not fetch results. There may well be phases of weeks and passing weeks which go just as a null with no output. But then, what matters is the choices …… which we make and the actions ……… which we do.

Are they in sync with what our goal is? Even if not oriented towards the goals, are they meaningful enough to give you a daily dose of happiness …. Happiness which isn’t bothered by past failures and successes. Happiness which isn’t biased by the verdict of the outside world. Happiness which is my own, which belongs to me, which is created by me and terminates in myself being finally …. Happy.

Happiness and satisfaction may be the ultimate aims of a life, but what’s the use of it when a happiness attained is due to the other one losing, not due to you winning the game. It’s the perspective which turns the relevance of happiness upside down : it is then driven by the mood of others and not by me ….. well, this wasn’t the kind of life that I had dreamt of !!!

Life attains a meaning when you have a reason to do every action, a reason which leads to a satisfaction. Providing life with a meaning is different from producing results, it’s the process instead which matters.

The way we CHOSE our means of happiness, our reasons of satisfaction and our actions committed to these two, decides the extent of the meaningful life.

Let’s make a new goal, lets decide what we want to achieve …… and then decide what all we need to sacrifice to achieve that goal. Let’s give this extra large life a meaning, be it small, but let it saturate with lumps of satisfaction and smiles.

Larger be the life, lesser be the time.

Let’s decide goals such that you get ample time to breathe and live.

Not much in my mind right now …. Happy New Year !!!

[Smiles and smiles all around 🙂 ]

Snehil Basoya

 

Friends, IITians, Countrymen …

The Great Indian Bhasad

Friends, IITians, Countrymen

As the new year 2011 begins, we are here neither to remember the immense beautiful moments of the just went 365 glorious days (for those who found them glorious), nor we are here to mourn over those days which we want to revert back somewhere deep within our hearts. We are here to discuss some really considerable and important issues.

These issues may not seem to hold any importance in many of our lives, yet they are worth consideration for the time being. You are most welcome to enjoy the New Year Celebrations rather than spending a few minutes on the coming bullshit.

On the verge of my last semester of DEFINING my future, the few issues, which are creating droughts and floods of thoughts and opinions within my nervous system are as follows.

1. The Placement Season this year at IIT Delhi has by far shown tremendous uproar from preceding years, with luring packages, variety of opportunities (though a vast audience is still awaiting for the first blood, my wishes for them, finish it soon !!!). I have heard at least 20 stories on “How the Placements will SURELY decrease next time” and equal rubbish on “How the Market will SURELY rise the next year”.

I hereby submit a humble request to all my batch-mates NOT to maintain calm and considerate while scoring next sem. When you visit your dear professors to ask for changes in grades and marks for the whole class (without consulting anyone!), kindly think of poor chaps like me for once. Decisions of one or two students driven by their OWN interests can alter the future of a whole class ….. kindly consider it (just in case!)

2. BRCA is improving day by day, incorporating more and more havoc every event in each of its nine Clubs. The past one year, I have been a major witness of several interesting occasions such as

1. Biased Judging,
2. Chutiya Judging,
3. Hostel politics in deciding the positions,
4. Two hostels fighting and ANTI-CHEERING on 3^rd and 4^th positions,
5. Reps of 2^nd year often dominated by their hostel seniors,
6. The Newest Tradition – If Your Hostel is Not Prepared, talk to others and SCRAP the event !!!
7. Fingers on Each and Every Club Secy,
8. Intervention of Politically Motivated people in clubs,

And etc, etc, etc ….

I, myself being a Dance and Dramatics Rep once, am now a stone-hearted follower of the Cultural system at IITD, who has no interest left in any of its events, neither to attend, nor to take part ……. This insolent nature has left him emotionless of the achievements and opportunities both of which are taken by the world as victory and defeat, and ego.

I hereby submit a humble request to all narrators of BRCA (including the secys, the reps, the participants and the politicians who play with them) to TRY, with their honest hearts, not to spoil the already spoilt culture any more. God Hail BRCA !!!

3. The season of External and Internal Politics which sucks a complete 3 months in the campus has begun!!! Those with the aims and ambitions fasten their seat belts. Those with desires and dreams start making contacts! Those with past and furious egoism, jealous, enmity and greed get ready to deliver. Gentlemen and Ladies who are great “senti-masters” and keep boasting of “friendships” and “relationships” have got a perfect opportunity to prove their mettle. And last but not the least, those with no other ambition than “Insti ko Aukaat dikhana”, have already begun their home works and are simply ready to eject out the inner erotica.

Let’s welcome the season of calculations, permutations and combinations, probability and statistics which indulges the Cream of the Nation in reckless blind dates carried on for months ……. After last years’ elections (which in turn turned out to be a blessing in disguise for me, at least I was kept away of the ruthless inferno of the campus and hostel!), I am no more interested in who wins and who loses. With no more personal intentions left, let’s preserve the energies for correct moments and correct people.

A sincere Best of Luck to all those participating in this ever-interesting game !!!

Friends, let’s make our place IIT Delhi a better place to live in the next coming months. May 2011 will witness a completely different Institute and a completely different approach to life for each one of us. So let’s decide to put in our best in whatever.

Thanks a lot for being patient readers.

Snehil Basoya.

 

Gurls Next Door

Ooomphhhh !!

Delhi Metro Sucks. Yes, it does !!! I have travelled a hundred times since Ladies Compartment has been separated, and believe me, I dearly remember those glorious days of past. Metro used to be a hunting ground for IITians specially, they got to see a lot of mascara, short skirts and curves after all. Anyways, lets come to the point, just another of my rubbishly down-trodden blog posts; here I am, doing a Mini-Project on my blog on the kind of girls compatible to a Complete Man. (Gosh !!)

So, abiding with my habit of point-wise categorization, here is the synopsis from my frequent gruelling:

1.       Girls with Extreme Mood Swings : These girls will often walk with you for hours chatting and babbling with enormous loudest bursts of laughter, shock, bewilderment, surprise, sadness, disappointment, appointment and all features of emotions discovered by the human race. Some day, this girl will keep you dissolved in herself and make you fulfilled to such an extent that the next day, when you start expecting more, and she says a big “Can you please SHUT UP for a while, I am not in a good mood”, you find yourself to be the one who is guilty.

These girls start governing your moods in turn, and you keep oscillating as in what to do and what not to do to feel her this, to feel her that and mess up your own time. These girls have in them imbibed a misconception that they have the rights to DEMAND, to IMPOSE, to DO, and to PLAN and to CANCEL THE PLAN, on whatever and everything.

How to handle?

You can try a lot of things in fact. Since they are the ones who owe a lot of EXPECTATIONS, start from KILLING them. Killing what? Expectations of course !!! Say frequent NOs ,stop replying them, do a bit of ignoring (even if you don’t want to; some are too good friends).

Dont let yourself to be dominated, try to be more assertive. Females when encounter such a behaviour, it has been observed, it creates huge rushes of fire, hatred, madness and jealous in them. Let them be, believe me, it will work !!!

2.       Best friends who “Already” Own a boyfriend : Well, a complicated case. These girls may be so good to you (they don’t know themselves that they are too good) that you end up with infatuations, despite being the fact that they are already committed. Girls are fools in this course of study; as in, they don’t know the fine line between friend and CLOSE friend. Even if you tell them that you are sentimental, they won’t leave you, coz they just like you too !!! Neither will they let you move out, nor move in.

How to handle?

A single and harsh remedy – leave her, forget her, tell her to take a final stand. If she doesn’t, then take it of your own. Distract yourself from all worldly stuff related to her. Finish it off and throw the story into dustbin. This is hard, really hard, but this is the only option available since the other options never have a future.

3.       Girls who are too mysterious to figure out : They speak less, do a lot of activities to keep themselves busy. They often seem expressionless, taking things as they come automatically. They don’t think much, just do away with stuff. You can’t figure out what is going through their minds. You are often infatuated towards them. You want to get closer, but they never allow you to enter a surrounding shield.

How to handle?

You can do nothing, seriously !!! If you are really attracted, and really want to enter in their lives, you need to be a great initiater then. You will require 10 times more time to reach a level in relationship and closeness  as compared to any other girl !!! You can’t challenge them. You can’t INTERFERE in what they like and what they speak. You can simply Wait for the Time !!!

4.       Girls with Hypothetical Misconceptions about themselves : They think they are always right. They think they are the Most Mature. They even act maturely !!! But they are the biggest Dumbass !!! They define a world of their own, never watch the actual world with someone else’s perspective. They are always hallucinating. More of a planner, less of practical.

How to handle?

Very simple. Keep saying YES in front of her if she is too adamant, and try making desperate efforts to make it a NO as soon as she walks away from you. Run for other people, and run away pulling your socks as if you never want to confront her again !!!

Well, I know this was boring, soo many things out of context, but still , let it be, I love accumulating rubbish !!!

Snehil Basoya

 

Clearing the Mist ….

Fine and accepted …… a blog post after 4 months, as if the world eagerly needed it in awe !!! It’s high time you know, and when you define the time to be high, you need to be high as well. When your ass is fired up and the avalanche approaches fast, you can’t afford BUT to fire up yourself more and run ferociously. A summary of my 3^rd year 1^st semester? Naah !!! it’s not a summary, it’s just a pen down of embedded experiences. I need not wait for the majors to end; they have nothing interesting to offer ……  my semester ends with Rendezvous.

Let’s sit together calmly with a supper of tea, fading sun and the shrill November breeze. Lets understand with peace that with just an year to pass out, we need to decide on some serious issues ranging from career and profession to relationships and social circle. The pride and prejudice of the forgotten family, parents, brothers, sisters and their relations with you. And a mystifying blend of dreams and confidence – forgotten and newly born.

You are still nineteen. Let’s stand alongside the Marine Drive thirty years hence, and reflect back your adolescence. Give 60 minutes to the Marine Drive and come out with a smile. A smile, now, may very well be a swine reflection of your resentment. A cunning smile of your regret. A smile full of missed opportunities, waiting for the next one to capture; it won’t come though, as if your fifty years were not enough. A smile full of wrongly taken decisions, with a desire of another chance; chances come and go, they have numerous doorsteps to knock. A smile holding a long thread of fucked up relationships; you demand frivolously for a new life. Marine Drive becomes the only solitude support in this humble world.

Hey listen !!! Don’t rupture. Sit down, fingers crossed. There is still time. Forget your past decisions, over-possessiveness for a few trivial parcels of disturbing hindrances, yourself sticking to a wicked wicket and overflowing testosterones …… forget them ALL. Life isn’t just one more damn eventful year, life if yet to begin; you being a baby inside the womb. Now don’t curb that Marine Drive smile, just provide it ever-longed dimensions.

A smile full of giving your best even in missed opportunities. A smile comprising the entire world. Eyes awaiting pinnacle full of apoplectic spirit. Full of satisfaction derived from miraculously converted end-results of wrongly taken decisions. Take the decisions, have the confidence of turning them your own way, keeping your feet firm at ground and smile all the way. Smile, not just with the Marine Drive, but with every air you breathe in and inside every water you feel.

Life is an industry ……….. and work is the only rest !!!

Snehil Basoya.

PS –

1. A blog exclusively on Street Play 2010 Parivar ……….. after some time though :P.

2. Finally, time for studies.

3. New addiction to English movies and old Hindi songs !!!

4. Extra cautious on money matters.

5. Feels nice returning to blogging once again 🙂

 

Am I getting old ???

Snehil asks Snehil: Am I Getting Old?

Its quite weird but its true !!! I have incorporated a strong gut feeling that I AM definitely getting old !!!

Certain irrelevant conventions I have framed up in my mind in context of getting old-

1. When you get old, you sound a bit dull, you don’t take interests in fun, frolic and excitement as you have got used to it.
2. You start saying “Childhood was the best part of my life.”
3. You feel as if you are born to take up “responsibilities”, keeping at bay all your comforts.
4. Your life becomes boring [sob sob sob]
   
5. You THINK too much !!! (unnecessarily and rubbishly)
6. You become HYPOCRITIC.

Now may be that could be another side-effect of ruthless summer holidays, but yes, I am surely getting these symptoms. Just wanna share a few ….

1. This guy doesn’t cry any more in romantic and senti movies. (Now that is a good sign, but I was obsessed to crying my heart out in Senti movies yaar !!!)
2. He listens to Kishore Kumar, reads Madhushala and watches Har Shanivaar Amitabh ke Saath on Zee Cinema.
3. He doesn’t go beyond 40 pages while reading a novel.
4. He seems to have got enough of chick-darshan in Dilli, forget love, even Hotness has become a thing of past concern for him.
5. He doesn’t like dancing in rains, jumping over potholes and peeping out necks with penetrating teeth from shattered windows of routine buses.
6. Like every democratic Indian, he criticises “voting janta” for not eliminating Swasti from Chak Dhoom Dhoom, but has never voted himself for Cyrus.
7. He spends 200 bucks for a DT Cinemas movie, but will bargain for 5 rupees when he picks up the auto returning from there.
8. He says that Times of India sucks, but never begins the day without Delhi Times.
9. He takes a bath daily (WHAT THE ….!!)
10. He loves wearing formals instead of T-shirts.

Lot more, things will pop out uncontrollably !!!

But then, whats wrong in these symptoms, am already fed up of “thinking” too much in my life, don’t wanna ANALYSE the REASONS, EFFECTS, AFFECTS and CONSEQUENCES this time !!!

I hereby begin my 5^th semester with yet another complete arbitness !!!

Snehil Basoya.

 

Give me Freedom :2 years in IITD

I wanted to breathe, it gave me floating shattered dreams to swallow.

I closed my eyes and looked for dreams, my thoughts ended up in chaos instead.

I reached up to the blues of skies, it pulled me down into the dungeons of this horrid earth.

I ought to work for the nation, the community; it proved me foolish in front of the world.

I wished to love my parents more, it snatched my friends even.

I dreamt of saying “I Love You” to her, she broke that dream day after day, month after month.

I hoped for a stable and satisfying life, I was left behind in this rat race.

I searched for answers when, it raised counter questions to me.

I desired for a pleasant aroma, I was left alone in a vacuum.

When I was busy observing others, it raised questions about my own existence.

When I was working 20 hours a day, somewhere, it was conspiring.

When I decided to open up the books, it reminded me of my duties, my obligations to my work and friends.

When I wanted to sing, it called me to shut up my bloody mouth.

When I began to speak, it said shut up again.

When I started to dance, it broke my ass.

I had asked for IITD, it gave me IITD fine. But where’s my dream world,

Give Me Freedom !!!

The Pacific which turned out to be Atlantic.

The lost pay cheque of last two years.

The broken limbs owing to tiresome weight of this world full of expectations.

I run, fiercely, with all my might, hit hard on its chest and fall back.

Now there are two ways to select a life-

1. Sit and cry.
2. Bheja Fry.

I choose the option which makes life interesting.

I breathe fire.

I fight with those blood stained nightmares and don’t wake up before defeating them.

I keep looking into the sun until I reach there.

I shout and laugh in front of this world. They watch me, I know. Do they care? So why should I?

I believe in the biggest asset bestowed upon me after my parents, my friends.

I don’t believe in saying “I Love You”, I will exhaust of saying it to every hot chick that comes my way.

I answer the question papers made my myself.

I smell junkyards and roses at the same time.

I sing and dance when I act.

I spend 1 hour in solitude daily, 10% times with books, 90% with my own self.

I speak at my own will.

Hit me hard.

Burn me harder.

Stab me hardest.

2 years gone, 2 more to go …………. BRING THEM ON !!!

Snehil Basoya

 

Why to control your Emotions?

Why does it happen that someday out of our lives, we are bestowed to live in a dream world, when everything seems to be just perfect !!!

Why does it happen that someday out of our lives, nothing seems to be in place, everything becomes a mishap, infact, it is not exactly a mishap in itself, it SEEMS to be one of them rather.

When smiles persist 24×7 and eyes shine with luminous intensity.

When even slight catalysts of something mistakenly said or accidentally related or remembered from past or some girl or some girl-friend causes whole day being thrown into a frustrated dustbin.

When your feet and mind run quick, you think fast, analyse faster and decide fastest on everything that comes under your way.

When you wanna cry hard, but you find a shoulder only when your tears have dried up.

When everyone seems a friend. And when you solve anyone’s headaches on tips of your fingers and your own headaches seem vanished for centuries.

When you are unable to find anyone to talk to in this harsh world.

When you spend continuous hours sitting on your chair, staring blank at your laptop, doing nothing.

 

Emotions rule us. They dominate us. In fact, they cause delay and come in way between our persistent problems and their quick fix solutions.

We succumble to the influence of others on us. We surrender to our own mood swings and accept defeat from ‘influencing’ outside agents of the world.

[We start disliking a movie just because the person sitting next to us is criticising it too much.

OR

You start loving a girl (with whom you never talked, just bumped into her ridiculously some unlucky day) once your friends tease you with her name for several months !!! ]

People say – let off your emotions. It keeps you balanced, devoid of frustrations and cheerful in life. Such a hypocrisy !!! Over-cheerfulness for a long time period has often invited me troubles. And gloomy gloomy sad atmosphere drags me with itself to nowhere.

Its just that for some last couple of weeks, I am driven into this weird world of emotions and feelings. Year 2010 has been, apart from a few big incidences, for me, devoid of all emotions and fairy tale fantasies. But nowadays, may be it’s the incoming monsoon or the second half of the year beginning itself, I get perturbed easily, get happy on little things, become annoyed on everything odd I face and often find myself blank – Where to go from here onwards!!! I feel lazy when I shouldn’t and work frivolously where not required. Something is lost.

Something is missing.

These sudden mood changes are making me week once again, they have returned, I had left them far behind months ago. Then why have they begun to distract me once again.

I find myself at certain conclusions with certain opinions, but most of the time, I am left with blankness …

directionless …..

confused and not happy with whatever way presently days are passing on.

Don’t know whether Not TO or Not TO control these emotions.

Coz if I don’t, then what. And if I do, then how!

Snehil Basoya

 

Double-Bed in a Single Room : IITD

PART-ONE : The Introduction

Girls in Himadri and Kailash Hostels are given rooms of the size of Football Grounds. They utilise it by demanding more and more Teddy Bears from their boyfriends and adore their rooms with lots of them, I discovered on their House Days. Sometimes, they even compete with their roomies on the quantity of teddy bears, I discovered in one of the rooms. On one hand, IIT fraternity constructs a 9-Storey Hostel for these Teddy Bears and not too far away, on the other side of the campus, boys are left with sleepless nights with their hubbies on their Double Beds, preparing them for their better future.

A typical boy’s hostel Single Room opens with the door without a door lock. (They have been broken several times with hammers as one of the roomies often looses the key). (This is the Naked Truth – a Single Room has ROOMIES) Some doors also have peep holes, they are not holes in fact. Ranging from 1.5 cm to 15 cm, they are formed due to peeling off of wood due to mis-placements of hammers when thrown with force.

As soon as you push the door, you expect it to open. Unfortunately it doesn’t. Rather, it hits hard within a range of 1 feet to the Double Bed. You enter through a tunnel-sort of narrow opening and find yourself stepped over a miserable collection of clothes and chappals (Chappals are borrowed, rather stolen, from some far-away room). This miserable collection on the floor measures somewhere around “3 ft X 2 ft” in area. Rest of the space is occupied by, once again, the Double Bed. Of course there is a table, but you can’t study on it. If you do so, you don’t have space to keep your clean clothes, books, waste material, water bottle, project files, laptop, used up unwashed under wears, towels, polythenes, paper bags, medicines, soap case, Lord Ganesha and other memorable and necessary things (There is 1 almirah for books and 1 for all other items, they too are shared).

When you sleep, you transfer all garbage to the table. When you have to make a file, you transfer the same garbage back to the bed. Owing to acute shortage of space, you are forced to keep your laptop on your lap. And prolonged exposure of laptop to the lap can cause impotency.

IIT-D fraternity is intelligent. They force roomies to sleep on a Double Bed and simultaneously, create a constant fear of impotency as well ..!!

PART-TWO : The Night Chat

[This Chat is inspired from Aravali Hostel. This is Fact mixed with Fiction. Fictional names and attributes have been given to the two characters.]

Its 2 O’ clock at night.

DHADAM ..!! A loud attack on the miserable door.

Rahul: (Sleeping like hell) Kaun ????????

Aditya: Tera Baap. Khol ******.

Rahul: Aa raha hun.

And he opens the door with closed eyes. Aditya’s fingers search for the switch board.

Rahul: Light mat On kario ……. (and he falls on the bed again like a dead corpse)

Aditya: K …. Fine.

He drops his bag on the other part of the bed which is already filled with garbage transferred by Rahul. Changes clothes in the dark, throws the garbage on the floor and falls on the bed too.

Awkward silence for 5 minutes.

“Today was a hectic day yaar”, Aditya broke the silence.

“Why? Don’t say you spoke to her”, intrigued the dead corpse.

“I spoke or not, how does it make my day hectic?”

Rahul takes a quick turn with a cunning smile on his face, faces Aditya closely and says, “Tell me what happened today !!”

“Nothing ********, just same as other routine days,” sighs Aditya, lost in his own thoughts, facing towards the roof.

“Bata na ********, mujhse chhupayega,” comes another smile.

Aditya continues his silence.

Rahul tries again, “ See, if you don’t wanna tell, just fuck of and let me sleep.” He turns again and pretends to doze off.

5 minute silence.

“I said a ‘Hi’,” said Aditya finally.

Rahul turns slowly. “It was you or was it she?”

“It was me only.”

“So …… when did this tragic incident happen?” Rahul looked very curious.

“CYP lab.”

“hmmm … I could see those chemicals jumping out of the burrette,” he was enjoying it.

Aditya didn’t reply.

“Kya hua  ***  **  *****? Senti ho gaya kya? Fir se nahi yaar, we are discussing on it from last 2 weeks daily at this topic daily at this same time. Every night you force me to open the door at midnight, never come on time, and then fuck off my sleeping hours in these rubbish discussions, boys and girls, realities of life, spirituality, friendships, trust and belief and blah blah blah …”

“Do you think she will ever talk to me?”

“However, I love these discussions … !!”

“Tell me your view point first.”

“Who … Aakriti?”

“Haan ********.”

“Why not, I told you in last night’s midnight lecture too, if ego doesn’t come in between, then there is no problem in maintaining a formal Hi-Hello.”

“It isn’t at all about the ego yaar, you know it very well ……..”

“But I am unable to understand why you bother so much about her. Has she ever shown a sign of love, or leave it, any sign of respect towards you?”

“No, but …”

“What but, listen to me. She is NOT your girlfriend, and if some tom-dick-n-harry owns her, then she didn’t deserve you, that’s it ..!!! She doesn’t deserve those who care for her, but yes, jitna main tujhe jaanta hun, you don’t deserve those who don’t deserve you.”

“You always give nice fande yaar !! Anyways, leave it. Teri waali ka kya hua? Jiya was looking really HOT today !! Sulphuric Acid to wo bhi bahot uchhal rahi thi teri taraf :P”

“You already know yaar, I am no more infatuated, she simply sat beside me today and as soon as ……..”

**** ** ****, *** ** *****, **********, JUST SHUT UP YOUR MOUTHS AND LET ME SLEEP”, came a voice from the opposite room from a 3rd person [LASSU]

“Lassu is shouting yaar, we shall continue tomorrow.”

“Fine no problem, but it will be better if you return by 1 O’ clock.”

“Why, you wanna sleep more?”

“No, so that we discuss in detail :D. Good Night.”

“Good Night !!”

……………….. and the Double Bed signs off for tonight.

[This blog was written in profound demand by some people as a result of some rigorous discussion on “late-night chats on Double Beds” on the dinner mess table at Karakoram. Comments requested.]

Snehil Basoya

 

Romance and Mysticism

 

When was the last time your ego went out for a death? Or you simply put aside your lure and materialism in the dustbin and taste some new virtues of Work, Energy and Power? Or when was the last time when you sent your eyes in the deepest of the blues far above and they never returned back?

Romance takes away your sleep, your easiness, your convenience at everything and what not. Conventions are so easily made, isn’t it! Romance does make you a victim of unfairness of life once you choose to give everything to a girl, but then very few people reach the next level – The Mysticism.

Waltz holds a special place, fantasies provide an ultimate time utilization in love, but suppose fantasies knock your door every time you wish them to be true! When Love faces ups and downs, and the relationship becomes experienced enough having been a witness to so many phases of hatred and misunderstandings, once the relation sustains, it reaches a new level called Romance. And when romance persists, it becomes a short –timed phase called Mysticism.

When you are a lover and you are in mysticism, you don’t get perturbed by small bullshit happenings of the world; how do they matter to you after all. You may listen to enormous noises, but you only hear the voice of your own thoughts, every time, every moment. You no more live in the world created for you to live in, you start living in a world which you have created for your own. When you work, you give your 100%, when you speak, you speak perfect. Your eyes are so deep and innocent that the person talking to you is easily mesmerised. Your prefer remaining quiet most of the time, but your wavelengths are so defined that your personality is strongest ever. You carry a smile 24X7 on your radiating face. You solve your problems yourself. A sphere of unknown power is created around you as you walk. You love yourself, you love everyone.

You reach the what-they-say, divine. You reach those places in this world where a common fellow of yours can never reach in his ideology. Your thoughts are your God. And you are the God of your own thoughts.

………………. And surprisingly, you still love the girl !!!

Snehil Basoya.

 

Raajneeti – Politics and Beyond ………

Raajneeti – Politics and Beyond

If I thought I was born just to weep out myself miserably in romantic films, I was wrong.

If I thought Gulaal the was the only hot and wild movie which could produce sweat inside 20 degree temp Select City Walk, I was wrong.

And if I thought that the year 2010 will continue reeling with tasteless popcorns, I was wrong yet again.

Raajneeti produced yet another hangover on me (I am usually prone to “influenced” hangovers, Geed is well aware!). Firstly the very concept –

People say that Politics is “unethical” – a bunch of blind and unhuman humans who are ready to stoop down to unimagined depths of immorality to carve out certain materialistic persuits. Politics is nothing but a manifestation of a person’s ego and inability to accept material defeat, his lure for irresistible power, has no place for emotions and feelings, is constantly aimed at destroying the opposition in ANY possible way for EVER.

But hold on, what if we say that Politics has “Ethics” of its own. No one has defined Ethics in a single definite way. The bunch is not blind, it is rather crazy and mad. It is not unhuman, humans are always evil and vile. If it is an outcome of ego, then who doesn’t fall prey to it in this world..!! Defeat is never acceptable and power is something which every person wishes if it could be theirs. Politics definitely holds place for emotions and feelings, coz it is just because of their immense and deep to heart feelings for some close ones, that some people are ready to fight out their lives in politics against the world. And if someone says, “Thok do saale ko”, then whats wrong? The other person is thinking the same way too. In fact, it is just one of the infinite ways of living an adventurous and eventful life ..!!

The definitions of right and wrong are different for different people. What may be wrong for someone or even the society may be right for someone else who may eventually bring more satisfaction and revolutions in the society. It is true, definitely true that positions, posts and material gains do not matter that much in life in long terms as your spiritual satisfaction with your life and happiness. But it is just a matter of choice ..!! If you choose to choose the material way of living, then it is absolutely fine to live a new way of life – full of envy, ruthless hours, timeless sweat, excessive brain storming and what not ..!! It is just an interesting way of living life, with no defined constitution of right and wrong and an ultimate sole aim for a unique phase of life – Power.

Governance is not the same as politics. Politics has got a major role in determining the governance instead.

Politics is justified in its place, it just bring out the “shaitan” within a person. There is nothing wrong in it I suppose, it is just a game.

Prakash Jha produces a mesmerising movie. The Script was unmatchable with any of the recent Hindi movies. Direction was brainy and intelligent. There were however lot of abrupt discontinuities in background score. Even the songs weren’t picturized well, though the movie inherits awesomely soothing songs. Whatever, some acclaurades for the actors –

Manoj Bajpeyi – Return of the Jaffar ..!! His cunning and mesmeric eyes, his dramatically strong voice intonations, his plight whenever fear caught hold of him and his portrayal of a character which presumes himself to be strong enough, but seeks for dependency every each and other time, Hats Off ..!!

Arjun Rampal – His personality stands out, among the big guns of Bollywood this time. He has done it before and he has done it again – reaching at par with the other superstars in the same movie. His act of a hungry beast, a strong voice-laden leader and a shy lover commands nothing less than Hats Off ..!!

Katrina Kaif – She is getting beautiful day after day, this time, brings a mature, womanly attire. Has perhaps outperformed her hitherto best performance in New York. Romance doesn’t sizzle, but yes, she makes you emotional in a few scenes. The Saari cameo towards the climax brings applause.

Ajay Devgan – Starts with a thunder, seems as if he will carry the whole movie on his own shoulders. As the movie moves on, there is not much left for him. However, he transforms greatly from a confident, gallant Dalit leader to a peaceful, exhausted audience of the game. Acts to his name.

Ranbir Kapoor – The Rule Maker, not exactly, but someone who has changed the rules, someone with those hidden masterplans, the wicked “harami” tactics, proving every of his master-stroke successful. Ranbir Kapoor has surely come out of his age. His face behind his mysterious expressionless mask. His acting deserves 10/10. He has entered thus into the big league of superheroes with Raajneeti.

Nana Patekar – 10 out of 10 prove less this time. The biggest pick. The Omnipotent observer. The silent protector. The wise guardian. The calm undefeatable warrior. His smile which contains the universe. His style which conveys to the audience – “I am here now, everything will be fine.” The Lord Krishna replication, Nana rocks.

There were a few mishaps in the movie too. The Kunti-Karna scene was truly a mistake. The Nasiruddin twist was difficult to digest. But keeping them aside, movie Raajneeti proves that 2010 is not yet dead.

Go for it ..!!!

Snehil Basoya

 

The Metropolitan Saga

The stupendous nights at DLF Promenade, the PVR Gold Class, the luscious luxury chocolates, road rash cocktails, laughter mocktails, the spontaneous drools and slurps, the delightful Espresso from Qahwa to Barista, the Van Heusen, the Moet’s and Stone’s and Gola’s, the Olay sunscreens, the Poker Mania, the astounded flow of wealth …………..

And then, the Bacardi blasts, those Tequila shots, the Marlboro lights, those adrenaline dark hours at Polka, Discs at highest decibels, the Death Metals, the 3-G spectrum, those mascara eyeliners which have become a routine boring affair of DU gals, the Kohinoors and Moods, those condom-vending machines ……………

Metropolitans are far becoming out of reach of the middle class; or is India’s middle class finally ready to enter the coveted world of leisure, luxury and exorbitance? What I see in my lovely city Delhi is perhaps both ways true. The ‘Middle Class’ in itself is such a disguising term, it is actually difficult to figure out. Sometimes, the Middle Class seems to have come out of all traditional hitherto taboos. The next moment, it seems to pretend as the same conservative chunk of the Indian society. Lets come out of this rubbish ‘Class’ discussion. Bottom line remains – The city has become far more rapid, inherits far more euphoria and incorporates a mysterious twilight of noise and violent colours.

The seduction of flying currency is definitely something which we desire for. Material success is always welcome, but to what extent? Surely materialistic pursuits give comfort, ease and satisfaction, but Delhi is getting more hungry man ..!! The city still engulfs in what we may call the ‘true picture of India’, poorer, naked people crawling across the streets. May be I am able to witness in my surrounding areas like South Delhi, the hugely widening gap between the rich and poor. Between the sabbatical zone and the destitute. Is it really a problem or is it just a whiff of nervousness which will pass the same way as many previous issues have got erased unnoticed in the past? Is it really something to ponder upon? Can’t we be satisfied with the achieved level of poverty reduction and welcome the new exuberant boom in India’s metropolitan life? Don’t know why I wrote this post …………. Just a way of time pass I guess. Hope it invites a few thoughtful comments.

Next blog soon.

Snehil Basoya

 

Uttar Pradesh Parivahan

I travel not that frequently in the buses of Uttar Pradesh Parivahan, but whenever I do, it leaves me nostalgic. Few people like me rush to grab the corner-most back seat of this shattered mode of transport, carrying 70 people, broken glasses, rugged up seats, scintillating fragrance of the local common man sweat, mixed up infact. Sitting at the corner gives me 3 hours of proper dreaming and introspection, something I relish the most.

There is definitely something which lures my mind to think that way whenever I sit there. For my past two years, when I dreamt, I dreamt about

The transformations me and my life saw after coming to IIT-D.

My friends and friendships.

My academics.

My Drams group.

My ‘missing home’ feeling.

And everything which a fresher like me would like to dream of and think of. Today, when I read the blogs of freshers of today, I see in them a glimpse of my own …….. foolish, childish and naughty.

But yesterday was something different. It took me 4 hours in a traffic-laden journey from Delhi to Meerut after a long gap of 50 days. Surprisingly, when I should have been once again driven into the charisma of dreams, I was rather thoughtless! In simple words, BLANK! I was no more interested in earphones, traffic didn’t bother me, neither I was listening to rubbish nonsense of neighbouring people on Indian Economics, nor was I dreaming. No introspection, nothing at all. It was all moving like a vacuum.

A queer sense of strange satisfaction engulfs me from within. Had I not become rich enough in diverse experiences?

In my two years at IIT, I have been through phases when I was dragged by attention-seeking behaviours of mine, which finally I was successful in curbing.

I have been through phases when I worked blindly into something just because others were doing it the same way. I finally understood that too.

I have been through a whole lot of time when despite so many efforts, marks were not in destiny. I improved on that too.

The major chunk of my life was spent loving a girl passionately for a year and coming out of the after-effects of a not-to-be-made relationship. I have finally come out of that too, and helped a few others come out of theirs.

Most importantly, my two years went in achieving a different level of acting, thinking and living in the world of Dramatics, something which I am proud to state in front of this world.

Do these diverse successes, failures and experiences make a person blank from thoughts? Thoughts should have been more of a sort of flooded, but yesterday, it was completely different. 4 hours went without a single thought, no old memories, no future plannings, just enjoying the present.

Life, I understand now during the course of writing, is at its best when it is lived in the present. When it is not lived by the thoughts, but by our actions.

Work, Energy and Power is an appropriate sequence. When we work with passion, energy itself comes from within, followed by a power which then radiates from us to the outside world.

Am leaving for back journey to Delhi in a few minutes, once again, in U.P.Parivahan!

Next Blog Soon.

Snehil Basoya.