Embarrassing Moments

Things like this has happened to each and every one of us

I moved to a new school when I was in fifth standard. Now this new School was supposed to be the best in Trivandrum, if not in anything else at least in the firang language called Angresi.

So there was this recitation competition. I was like over eager to prove myself in the new surrounding. So there I was waiting in the queue for my chance. Then suddenly I realized that all fellow kids were giving intros. I thought what would I say now. "I am going to sing this poem”?????

Being very intelligent even at that time I decided the best policy is to listen. I listen once. I listened twice. All of them were saying I am going to "DECIDE" the poem or better yet that’s what I heard them say. My chance came. And went on stage and said "I am going to DECIDE the poem “Shadow” by Robert Louis Stevenson" and the entire audience erupted into laughter. I had to live with pet name of "decide" for almost two months.

But it took me much lesser time to learn that u RECITE a poem and do not DECIDE it

Morality and Ethics

Somehow I find it difficult to accept the term Morality. Maybe because of those Moral Science classes in school which tended to prescribe behavior based on conformism.

I would rather love to debate on Ethics one of my favorite subjects in Management. Ethical Universalism (Kant school) and ethical relativism are two schools of thought that people subscribe to.

I believe for any person the ideal thing to do would be take a decision which would prick his conscience the least rather than staunchly holding on to relativism or universalism.
For example infibulations or breast ironing in African countries may seem crude and atrocious from a universalistic perspective but in the social context of these countries it’s perfectly logical. The most important point is being logical. We have been blessed with the ability to think logical. Better use that than base your behavior on some prescriptions.

The problem with Ethical Relativism is that it gives rise to prescript practices. I mean if at a point of time Cannibalism were essential in a particular community to stay alive, that would pass over centuries and we would have cannibals who have no idea as to why they are eating their brother’s flesh. Now that’s what I would called “Blind faith”

The best thing would be Ethical relativism based on constant inquisition on practices based on Universalistic principle. I know that sounds confusing. What I mean is that practices, which we accepted based on ethical relativism, must not become a social custom or ritual. Rules need to evolve. A universalistic good would be ideal but then we have to tread the path of relativistic realism towards the ultimate goal

I would thank Prof. RC Shekhar for giving me clear insights into Ethics from which I could build my own trains of logical thought

On Internet- In A Season of Love

People would not believe how much he had changed in the last few months. The total book worm bugger who used to spend most of his time reading either textbooks or his novels in his dingy little hostel room suddenly started to take a shower in the evening, put a heavy layer of talcum powder on him, look at himself in the mirror and, go out.

This evening excursion was to cyber café a kilometer away from the college hostel. He liked to walk all the way just feeling the breeze rush up against his face. For a introvert like him internet was a heaven. There was nothing to fear of. You didnt fear that you may not be able to utter a word if a girl looks at you in the eye. Or the big fat guy will beat you up if you abuse him.

This evening felt all the more better. He was again going to chat to Shirley. His love, finally he too could say he has a girl friend. Nowadays that has become a must have. You are not man enough if you don’t have a girl friend or they may even call you gay

Now girls in the real world were the most irrational people around. He often wondered how girls could fall in love with lousy idiots who drank smoke and spoke about their girls assets to other guys in the hostel. Maybe they too were not interested in love. It was all in the name of fun.

But his Shirley was different. She was all he wanted his girl to be. She was god fearing, beautiful (that’s what she said) and at five seven with 34 26 36 figure and long jet-black hair by descriptions could not be ugly. She was intelligent too. She could talk about American army in Iraq with the same ease she would talk about her lipstick and her roommate. And above all she loved him. The Iraq thing was surprising to him. But he forced himself to believe that god had hidden a jewel for him.

He had met her online a week after his only friend in college introduced him to chatting. He was in the Kerala room and just watching as the conversation scrolled by. When suddenly a personal chat window popped up with a HI!!! After the initial asl and other formalities she just raced into his heart.

It was just around 5 30 when he reached the café. There was a vacant seat and nowadays wit more computers with connectivity at hostel the cyber café was not full except for the rush hour. He sat at this favorite corner seat. No one preferred to sit there because it was all cramped up. But it served his purpose. This was he could be away from public eye.

Shirley was online. A smile came to his face. He pulled up the keyboard and said a Hi. After that awesome Hi on the first day it was always him who said the first Hi. He loved doing it. It made him feel in control

She send a smiley and said hi. She said she wanted to say something important to him. He tensed up. She said her parents had fixed a marriage for her. They guy was from the UK working for some multinational. He had lot of money and his parents were also keen.

He wanted to say “lets run away and get married” but suddenly his hands would not work they were cold and would not move. He pulled his right hand onto the keyboard with his left and managed an “and”.

She said, “I know it would hurt you, but lets be practical. It would take a lot of time for you to get settled in life. Another two years of your course and then god knows if you can manage a job. I cannot wait that long. I am sure you will find a much better girl than me. Infact I fell I don’t deserve you da.”

He could see his dreams shatter in front of his own eyes. He had even decided on the name of the kids they would have. And here she goes of so abruptly. He felts sick. He could not breathe. He just got up slowly locked the comp and walked outside. He took a long breath of fresh air. The sickness vanished but he still felt bad. He went in.

He typed, “ I want you to be happy. If this makes you happy then you should go ahead. The best part of love is letting go of the other and let them be happy” the words he read in one his favorite forwards. “ I would like to have a picture of yours. A memoir of your”

She said “Hey hey no pictures. Why you want to complicate things. You said you are not in love with my body. So why would you need my picture for remembering me?”

He said “okie”

She said “ Look I need to go now. I may not log into this id again. It was nice knowing you. You take care.” And she logged out

He got out wrote the timing in the register paid the man at the counter and slowly walked out of the café. A head popped out of the cabin near the door and winked at the administrator. It was his best friend who introduced him to chatting> he told “ And so dies Shirley” and both burst out laughing

He walked back towards the hostel. Tears rolled up in his eyes. He wondered, “How could she!!!” and he could feel his inner voice break in angst. He stomped his foot on the road.

“Bitch!!!”

He spat out. The strong wind carried it back onto his own shirt

Hour glass

Sand is dripping down
Through the narrow neck
Time laughs like a clown
As is reflects on the clock

Time is indeed flying by
No I would not stop it
All I can do is curse and sigh
And hang in here a bit

Waiting is lifes brew
Lived till now nothings left
All the sand has fallen through
Wait for someone to reverse it

Being in Love

Being in love is not easy
They say it good but it is not
Yesterday it made me queasy
Made me sit and think a lot.

I am pained by people I love
For others I don't give a damn
Affection we need and we show
Inside we know more we can.

Yester she pained me extremely
Hate her for it, I should
I tried to tear her apart slowly
Love her more, is all I could

On Ekta Paneri

After that open letter to Ekta and some amount of desperate pleading she agreed to give me her number. What did i want the number for? I am not sure. Maybe I wanted to talk to the Voice of God from ON@CC. She had said once that I have to ask nicely for the number and maybe I had finally asked nicely. That was realization number one this new god has given me. I after all can ask nicely.

I resisted the thought of calling her up for sometime. Why I was afraid to call her, maybe it’s the same old of feeling of what she will think. I am not sure I worried about that much. These are situation where I fail to understand myself. But logically I should have been.

I went up to the roof of my office. And dialed the number and strangely I cannot remember if there was a ring tone or sing tone at the other end. Maybe my mind was just yearning for a voice to answer at the other end.

“Hello” it was a female voice. Damn so Ekta is a female after all. But then the voice broke so much of my imagination. It was not croony, it was not husky, It was mature. Far more mature than I could ever imagine. Now don’t ask me what I mean by mature. The only answer I will have is mature is mature.

She asked me “who”. I was a bit confused. Did I dial a wrong number or was I given a wrong number in first place. Hesitation on my part and then I said,

“Err this is Renjith. Remember u gave me your number in the morning”.

I couldn’t make out what her reaction was to my call. She must have been neutral. Because the job she is currently in is attending calls. So she can take calls minus emotions.

I said “ I am calling office from the roof of my office”. That was a real foolish thing to say. What difference does it make if I was in my bed or I was in a busy street or I was on the beach. That was just filler. The kind of thing that you say when you have nothing else to say.

And didn’t she make me look like a fool. ”Hey you office is on the roof” . That made me realize how silly I must have sounded. I don’t regret it because it brings smile to my face when I think of it. And anything of that sort shouldn’t be regretted. It sometimes feels good to feel like an idiot.

She controlled the entire conversation. Its amazing how in transactional relationship one of the operators firmly put forward ‘ I am the boss here”. And then she asked the question. I expected her to ask that. I wasn’t prepared for it though. “ You called me to check out if I am female right”

At that moment I denied it. But yes maybe that was one of my intentions. But then again I did want to listen to her voice because I am as much of a realist as I am a romantic. Means I can imagine wildly but then I need physical evidence to imagine. And I am a very ‘touchy” person I need to touch a person to express my feeling towards him/her. This has made some of my guy friends even wonder if I was ‘gay’. I think that in itself is food in itself for another blog.

After this phone episode there has not been much contact with Ekta. Except for her blogs in the last two days. And that too a reply to some forward. I for one, hate forwards. But this one did make an interesting reading. And I was just wondering about her patience to fill up the damn big questionnaire.

There was this comment by Alex on her reply to my letter. He proposed that people can be different in their online identities from their actual identities and Ekta says she may be writing what she want to be rather than what she actually is. Both of these are very interesting propositions. I have always believed writing helps you get to some plateau not achievable in real life and yes I am different person as a writer, I have different cyber personality that is definitely bolder than my actual self

Better Late Than Never

I wanted to blog this 3 days back. I may say that I was too busy or I was too lazy. Both are right in some sense. But as the title goes “better late than never”

Its regarding this feeling I have that things usually happen late to me. All these thing s the kid do like riding a cycle or swimming I see they learn it at a pretty young age. I got y first bicycle at the age of 16. I learned riding on my on cycle. I guess that was pretty late. I learned to ride a motorbike at the age of 20. I bought my first motorbike at the age of 25. I have not yet learned swimming.

Just tried my first drink when I was 23. That was because I thought my dad drank my quota of alcohol too. Maybe a misnomer corrected by my management education. Tried smoking when I was 20 didn’t like that though. Must have smoked some 10 times after that during the last five years.

First time I experimented with my sexuality is when I was 17 I guess. And I still remember wondering how my friends from 7th standard used to talk about that years back. I fell in love for first time when I was 23 and fell more madly in the same love when I was 24.

With computers I was luckier I guess. I touched my first computer when I was 14 and I guess I fell in love with it. Somewhere along the line the love story didn’t take of as it should have. I did my first website when I was 23. Pretty late by the standards I had set for myself
Putting this piece together I guess I am not as unlucky as I make myself out to be. Maybe I just like to bask in all the sympathy I would manage to attract. Or maybe I just wanted to put don something and had nothing better to write on. I guess I should just stop cribbing and be happy about what I have.

Open letter to Ekta Paneri

Dear EP,

I was reading “One night @ a Call Center” yesterday. My friend bought it in the evening and was reading it .So had to wait till he slept to lay hands on it. So started at around 11 30 Pm and finished it at around 3 40 AM. Thus sadly eating into my sleep hours. Now in office and feeling terribly sleepy. So thought would do something that’s interesting and thus just giving wings to the idea that took of as I was reading the book.

I didnt find the book as interesting as the first one maybe I am myself an engineer and could relate to the thread of 5 point someone. But then I never studied in an IIT. I never took on me any pressure to perform and yet again I didnt have a beautiful girl friend when I was in engineering

You maybe wondering why I am giving all history of what happened yesterday and during engineering. I can hear your imaginary voice (Has to imagine because I haven’t seen or heard you just read your blogs and chatted a few time) telling cut the bull shit and tell what you want to say. So here I go with out much ado

I was thinking of you whenever my mind wandered of the thin story line maybe because we had discussed this book or maybe cause you are one of those few people I know ( or I presume I know because I tend to believe all my cyber friends. not an wise thing to do, but profiles in Orkut do seem authentic) who work in a call center.

It was funny because (I don’t know how many ‘because’ I will use in this letter, it always happens when some one is upto lame reasoning) while I was reading the story I was plotting my own story in my mind. Its actually not another story. I guess it would be better to call it a suspicion. I had already asked you if the girl who told Chetan the story is you and then I was trying to fit you into the character of every female protagonist in the novel and I failed miserably.

Its again funny as I don’t know you as a person and yet I could rule out that you cant be Esha, Priyanka or Radhika. I was just trying to put in all the images I have about you to these girls. I know it was a futile exercise nevertheless it was just the mind wandering and meandering and going where it wanted. So I let it go.

Then I came to this totally insane but logical theory, That Ekta Paneri doesn’t exist. Maybe she is just a fertile mind who is blogging away his creative energies on extremely cool rebellious beautiful talented character called Ekta. I thought of Al Pacino and Simone. I thought about a net friend I had who would tell me the colour of the shirt I wore to class. I never got to meet her (who knows if it after all was a her). But it was kind of weird and yet exciting feeling that you are being stalked.

The different option flashed through my find. Ekta Paneri could be a bored housewife, a teenage guy, middle-aged man or anything on earth. Oh there are infinite permutations and combinations to when it comes to human beings. Infinite classifications of a single race called Homo sapiens.

But there is something about you that gives you an aura of authenticity and as I thought more about it, I realized maybe someday I may realize the dream of writing a book of my own and you could be the protagonist in it.

My First Winter

This is my first winter and I don’t know if you can call it a real winter at all. There is no snow. So the purist may not agree. But then I am from a typical coastal city situated closer to the equator. The lowest temperature I must have seen must be some 18 deg C. Now the temperatures here are like 5 deg Celsius at night. I am wearing sweater at noon.

The hardest part is riding back to quarters. The company accommodation is almost 14 Km away from office and I don’t get to go back till 8 at night. I wear a sweater a jacket and a monkey cap beneath my helmet. Even then the cold wind blowing against you is killing. By time I reach quarter I am shivering and palms are ice cold.

But winter is fun. The time u sink beneath the cozy blanket is one of the most amazing feelings one can get. I just hope I had someone with me whom I could snuggle up to beneath the blanket ;)

Pain

For pain I would pay
Let the illusions play
They teach its bad
Feeling pain or be sad
Its blasphemy I knew
As I thought and I grew

In the cave of my truth
Soul – unholy and uncouth
Lost in mayhem and insanity
I am searching for sanctity
Where thought is a jungle
Truth and deceit entangle

The mind is so morose
Feel the tentacle close
Conflicts of thought
Venom with it bought
As pain covers the body
Soul erupts in rhapsody

Crayons of earth

Crayons of earth
Draw the pictures
Every penny worth
No frames or fixtures

Shades of grey
Or of shadow play
Waiting for prey
Out in earthen clay

Pictures are hazy
Intoxication mild
Mind goes crazy
Imagination wild

Endless stream
And the blinding fog
Piercing scream
The juvenile rogue

Night is too cold
The burning hearth
Flames Dance bold
And the crayons of earth

Aftermath

I failed to realize where I was. All I could feel was pain all over my body. There was so much weight over me. I couldn’t open my eyes.

I was doing some experiments in my underground lab. Something with the explosives. Something went wrong. BOOM. I felt a force throwing me off my feet. Now wake up

I still don’t know where I am

Boring

When days turn boring and existence turns to frustration it finally time to realize that you are living. Even I don’t fully understand that statement I just made. But I guess it really seems interesting because I am feeling a lot frustrated the last few days. It seems as if life has come to a lull when nothing much is happening on any front.
What do I do to wake up so that I have something moving? I am naturally lazy means the inertia is rather high. I have been seriously thinking about trekking. But is it worth it to risk my life in naxal infested hills and forests. I have long been fascinated by naxalism, but what difference does that make. For them I would be one of that class that has to be annihilated.
Roses on My Table
There are four roses on my table vase
Not real ones
Two are red one is rose
And one a color I don’t know
Maybe its orange
They are lifeless
But even real roses are lifeless
If thy are cut of from the plant
It doesn’t look good
But its still there on my table
I payed for it
Why do I have it here
I don’t know
But it is still here

Creativity

I was perturbed when my friend send this to me with a title "Frustration of Teachers". Maybe it reminded me of my own school days when i was told to fall in line when ever i dared to be different in my literary endevours.

I believe this kid deserves applause for the way he has written. Forget the grammar forget the construction. Just look at the raw creativity and orginality. The topic is simple there is the common approach of writing something quite ordinary about flowers, rainbows, nature, vehicles, people and what not. But that would be description.

The incoherence between the pargraphs that this kid has written is what makes it interesting for me. You may agree or disagree but i would argue that this kid got a raw deal.

One of my friends tell me this mail maybe a hoax. Maybe. But it gave me a chance to speak about something I wanted to tell for a long time

It has been my experience that teachers in the Indian educational system has an uncanny ability to snuff out creativity. In our quest to be conformist and be right all the time we are losing the essence of diversity

Why We Need Cynics

Right through out our academics and professional life we have been told about the need of positive thinking. Gurus after gurus have harped about the power of positive thinking. At the height of this frenzy one would often think that a cynic is a total misfit in today’s competitive environment. Is it so?

Cynicism is defined literally an attitude of scornful or jaded negativity, especially a general distrust of the integrity or professed motives of others. Thus cynics are unable to believe what other profess to them and are supposed crippled by their inability to think positive. Thus in a modern and knowledge oriented society cynics might be regarded as those who stand in the way of progress.

Social thought process is the way the society thinks. I would like to draw a parallel between the brain and the society. As the brain is made up of numerous neurons the interaction of which gives rise to thought process, the society is made up of humans who interactions decide how the society would think. Thus what the society thinks about any subject is moderated by the extremists in the society. Now that would be something difficult to comprehend. We have traditionally seen moderates and extremists as two different orientations towards a common subject. But the truth is that there has to be two extreme opinions, a dichotomy. Let us take the example of cloning. There are people who support it saying that it is the next step in scientific advancement and other extreme that claim that it is an act against nature and thus should be stopped. In the tussle that arises between these opinions a middle path emerges which are the moderates that support regulated research in the field of cloning.

It has also been established that humans are diverse. Even though they are all physiologically same the mental makeup is different. Thus we have behavioral scientists advocating teamwork and diversity. In this sense cynics are necessary in any team to be the devils advocate. When a team moves forward with a key decision it is necessary for someone within to sound warning bells and inform team members about the possible pitfalls in the decisions.

Thus for me cynicism is mental makeup that makes you think about how thinks can go wrong. There is no need to scorn at cynicism because it is essential in deciding how the society thinks.

Piriyum Neram

This is a song written for my farewell at engineering college in 2002

Pallavi
_______
priyum neram, pokum neram
innenullil etho vishadham
nirayunenullil, sukhamulla novin
ormakal maatram

Anupallavi
__________
ini onnu cheran oru kochu moham
piriyathirikkan atmavin daaham
chirkarnna mohavum atma dahavum
enmanssil maaatram
thaliraarnna shikhriyil virinju nilkkum
oru kusumam pole

iniennu kaanum niramulla swapnam
iniyennu kelkkum, snehathin geetham
niramaarnna swapnavum sneha geethavum
ormakalil maatram
kuliraarnna pulariyil kozhinju veezhum
pani neerpoo pole



Download this song here

And the River Flows on

The river flows on and on
Not knowing what it claimed
Unlike the bubbles that had blown
The dreams - they still lay chained

But it rained on the cold night
Never a drop fell from the sky
But for the tears we could not fight
Keep the dreams, they never die

Muttering something never clear
Ripples formed and ripples died
Flushed along the raging river
But never could move the dreams chained

For now the rain had ceased
The sky is dark and the hearts heavy
From above three stars smiled and said
Keep the dreams they never had died

THE LAST HIDEOUT

It seemed as if it was the longest walk in my life. I am not saying that long walks are not common in my life. I have walked for days together. I never knew when I would be able to rest. In fact we never rested in that sense. Why is the sky so dark today? There is just one star and only the small crescent of a dull moon. It reflects the state of the world we are living in. I knew the sharpness of the stones increasing beneath my feet. It should be nearer now. I don't remember how long I had spent in this jungle. Incidentally the stones didn't pain me. Maybe it was because of habit or may be my body and mind has lost its ability to feel pain at all.

It was dark. All I could see was the thick blackness around me. I never waited for the stars to guide me. I just took the lead cutting through the darkness. We had dreams but we knew fully well that we may not remain to see what we foresee but then we fought for what be believed. A world where there is no difference between the haves and "have not"s.

There in the distance I could see the dim light coming from a hut. Oh! this is the place. My legs gained pace as I neared my destination. This was to be my hideout for the coming few days. I coughed three times and entered the hut. There he was sitting in a corner with his eyes closed and hands working fast. He didn't pay any attention to me. I knew he was expecting me. I dint expect a warmer welcome than this, I could feel the comradeship in the air and that was enough for me. He may also have felt the same way.

These were some Mao scriptures lying on the mat at one corner of the room. I put my dirty cloth bag on the small chair and sat down on the mat. I went through the leaves of truth. I never needed to read them. I knew it all by now. It was in my blood. My eyes shifted to Prakash. He was still working. How creative was he. Though he was making bombs for destruction they were so shapely and well formed. Those were the artist’s hands at work. , the hand of the one who knows only how to create. His eyes were still half closed. He must have been sitting here the whole of evening. There were more than thirty fully done country bombs lying on the floor.

I thought of getting some sleep. I must have walked over twenty five kilometers hiding away from all eyes. I took the lesser known jungle paths. I met no one except for an odd tribal on the way. Life has been like these for the past few months, ever since Thirapuzha station blast. I was wanted long back. But now the police were all the more flared up by that episode. Not that I cared about them catching me. But I had to be out of here to get more people understand the realities of the world and to take up the fight for the legitimate cause.
I lay down on the mat and closed my eyes. I knew I was fully awake. I could feel Prakash still engrossed in his work at one corner of the room. I opened my eyes looked out of the window. It was dark outside but now the sky had lot many stars and the night was not black. Maybe it was just what I wanted the world to be like that. All the stars looked of equal size. There was no moon anywhere. I thought this looked all more normal and equitable. Some where the colors of red flashed. I don't know if it was of blood or of revolution. I knew one day we would succeed. If it was not for us, it was for all the generations that were to follow. Think of a world where all people are equal and the wealth of the earth belong to all who inhabit it. People thought it was revolution. For me it was the truth. It was the most natural thing.
Yet....
some where I heard dogs bark. I thought it was just a figment of my imagination. There couldn't be dogs anywhere near by. I felt my muscles twitch and my heart beat faster. I felt tension in the air. I felt that he has stopped working. I opened my eyes and I saw his now fully open eyes. There was fear in his eyes.
The barking of the dogs began to become clear. They were dogs. I knew a search was on. Somebody has double crossed. Or maybe they just may somebody saw me. Many people cannot stand the torture. It is easier to say that you should keep your oath and words. But in pain not everyone maybe capable. I looked at Prakash. I knew that my looks could reassure him. I touched him in the shoulder. He was not trembling. I whispered to him "get out of the hut and then hide beneath the Adiyan Para (rock). When you here the blast run and hide inside the Mukkunny cave nobody will come there. I will escape somehow”. I watched him he disappeared into the darkness. He was a young boy. Lot of life was left in him. I knew that he had the conviction. He would carry forward my dream of the good world.

I sat down on the mat and closed my eyes. The barks were coming nearer. They must be about twenty minute from this place. Twenty bombes joined to my body. I felt a sense of joy rising up in my heart. Something was beckoning me. Now I could hear the sound of boots as they clambered up the rocks upsetting the stony silence of the night. Suddenly there was light all around. Search light. They had located me. The command to surrender came via the megaphone. Who cares about their commands? I slowly walked to of the hut. As I entered the blinding lights my index finger was stuck to the pin of the bomb. I would make this world brighter.

(The revolutionary didn't remain to read the news that appeared in the news papers next day. and his..................)

Karan Cyber Sehgal

On my friend Karan and his tryst with computers

When Souveer Raghav threatened to resign from the post of floor coordinator there was no doubt on our minds on who should succeed him to the post. Here are few instances where Karan exhibited his Cyber brilliance.

The Mystery of the Missing “My Computer”

One day Karan goes to Rajkumars room to type in a submission. Rajkumar had hidden all the icons on his desktop. Karan sits in front of the comp and wonders what to do, when suddenly his face lights up, he grabs a floppy and rushes to the CC.

Minutes later Rajesh finds an irritated Karan in the CC trying to copy the “My Computer” icon on to the floppy.

Aamir in Troy???????
After hours of cracking finance, Karan decides to have a break. He walks across to Renjiths comp and sits down to watch the movie PCP had saved the other day. The file name was AVSEQ02 and was saved on the F drive. Karan did not know where PCP had saved the file and being the comp illiterate he is, he did not know how to search for files. He looked in one drive after another. As fate would have it, Renjith had saved another film by the same name the day before on the D drive. Karan finds this file and opens it. Sees it for sometime and remarks
“Oye, Troy mein Aamir Khan kaise ghus gaya”

The F*** Drive

One day PCP is doing SAPM assignment in the CC. he finds Karan anxiously pacing down the aisle. This happens for some time. PCP concerned about his roomie calls Karan and asks him what happened.
With the saddest look on his face Karan replied. “I had stored some SAPM files on the F drive of the last com on third row. Now Shailee has been sitting on the comp for last half an hour and I want to finish my SAPM assignment.

Karan the hAcKeR


After this incident, Karan realized that F drive can be accessed from any computer in the Institute. And few days later Renjith returns to his room to find Karan in glee. Karan said “G Nath I accessed your F drive today”. So Renjith asked how he got the password. Karan replied “I will show it to you”. Karan opens the “My Computer” of the PC in Renjith’s room and clicks the local F partition of the hard disc.

The Lousy Mousy History

Just before coming to TAPMI, Karan gets to know that computers are an integral part of the course there. So he decides to go to NIIT for some basic course. There the instructor asked him if he knew anything about computers. Karan, being the big man he is, said that he know all parts of the comp. The instructor is relieved and proceeds to teach some elementary stuff. In between he needs the mouse and asked Karan to pass the mouse to him. Karan thought for a while and and slowly pushed the monitor to the instructors side.

The New Innovation Called Water Cooled Printers

So is any one is still in doubt on who should be next in line for FC post…….There has to be….. After these half fictitious stories on Karan, let’s go on to a 100 % real life situation. During the last “Speed” our very own PR man DIGIPOP was printing a poster in the dot

matrix printer. The printer got heated up and stopped in between. DIGI thought for a while went to the cooler fetched some ice water and poured it over the printer head to cool it down. Here is one super cool cyber guy who could give Karan tough competition.

Karan Cyber Seghal - 2 (The Lappy Toppy Karan)

Mousey Lappy

Karan ne jab laptop khareedne ke liye dukaan pahuncha to sales manmodels dikayakaran kyo kuch bhi pasand nahi aayapucho kyoonoyyye is dukan mein koi bhi laptop mein mouse nahi hain aur mere kokeyboard shortcuts pata bhi nahin.

Where do I keep IT

suna hai karan abhi laptop rakhne ke liye computer table kareed rahe hain

Neela Daanth

Jab karan laptop kahreedne gaya to sales man poocha....blue tooth wala model chahiye kya. Karan ne bola "meine abhi tak sone ki daanth nahi dala to mein neela daanth kyu daaloon"

Jalakam

ariyathe aaro ente manassinte jalakam
paathi thurannu kadannu poyi
athu vazhi vannoru kulirarnna maruthan
mruduvay thalodi maranjuvallo
pularkal manjinte nathoru thulli pol
atmavil pranyam uranjirunnu

Nanavarna imayoppi nayanagal adachu njan
nidrayilekku mayangi veenu
irularnna ratrithan ekantha yamathil
kulirinal thanu virangalichu
Njetti urarnnu njan virayarnna kaikalal
aa jalaka vathil valichadachu

pularkaala vettom kadanu varillini muryil
akatharil mottam iruttu matram
irulathu mizhi pooti urangan sramichu njan
innenodu nidra pinangiyenno
kazhiyilla urangathirthikkan enikku karanam
swapnangal matrame bakki ullu