Laughter ZINDABAD

What transpired recently in the park close to my house- which I visited for the first time in my life during the pre-sandaas period (that definition highlighting the first thing that's struck off my to-do list for the day ), kept me laughing all day long. I was laughing at laughter. Plus a thing and a half more...I don't make sense!

Connect these words to end up with something sensible enough.

Park...dawn...guffaws...group...oldies...arms raised...ha ha-s...contagious...aunties, joggers, and dogs. Merriment silently first, and exponentially next, works its way through my brain and this transducer of a body transmutes nerve impulses into splits of mirth.

Well, I sure did miss a lot in these many years...

Morning saw me awake unexpectedly at 5 am. I thought, why not get to the park for a change. The incentive, though was a tip off by a good friend that a damsel was on the prowl every weekend morn. I just shouldn't miss it, was my instinctive reaction!

But as it turned out, the lassie had other plans. And I couldn't play spoilsport. So I just watched on, throwing an insouciant stare at what was there...reminding myself to drink away at the half-full glass!

Bang.

A group of elderly women...and men (chhee chhee) with their arms seemingly embracing the Gods...though only reaching out to a handful of leaves- laughing sans souci...was I still in bed? dreaming? weird to dream that way...though my recent dreams had been weirder still!

The ha-has got me doing the same in no time...Were these people nuts? Were they some sort of a club? just ten feet from such entertaining eccentricity, a dog was wooing a she-dog,even as I was attempting coming to terms with the reason behind my mirthful state (now having more tee-hees than ha-has)

Looking up Google, and discussing the matter with a couple of friends has enlightened me towards something called laughter-therapy. To really know more just click here.

Anyways...it isn't anything new for most of you reading this, but I kinda liked the idea totally...thank you dost for the incentive...though I don't need that one anymore!!! To think of our grandparents shedding their inhibitions and laughing like a pack of clowns in public...

ha ha ha!

A sight to remember.

NOCTURNAL RUMINATIONS

I'm not sure this best reflects my mood. Excuse me for iterative poetry on these pages...CAN'T HELP IT.

Into the night this dream unfurls
as I stare into the moonshine dim...
Yearning as ever to brave the cold
and saline, ripe beads of sweat.

As long as blood flows through my veins
O mighty warriors I crave thy games...
For I seek not this life mundane,
Lest I rot in peaceful shame.

O kings of yore, and saints of then,
Let battles wage upon my den.
I want to be a man for once...
And play my part, a victory dance.

Immortality, is what I crave this night
I hate the grasp of corporeal bind.
When Gandhi stares me in the eye,
I feel a chill speed up my spine.

MASS BUNKS PLUS “MAMA I’M COMIN’ HOME”

‘Mass Bunk’ has come to become an oft-repeated term derived from the collegiate lexicon. Most of us are found muttering the words to ourselves, each time the teacher gets just a tad off schedule. With me, it usually starts as whispering to myself followed by a more intense groan-the result of a group of enterprising students gathering courage to shout it out loud-and the till-then dormant mob of a class alights together, out of the classroom, exulting that common sense...uh-oh...common sentiment rather, prevailed- A spectacle not unseen.

‘Mass Bunk’. Funny eh?

No Kidding. Where does it gather its roots from? I mean, we lads in hostels are actually on a perpetual ‘mass-bunk’ (Three out of four years, sob!), though feminine participation is encouraged only in the former context. It is common observation that ‘Chalo yaar! Mass Bunk’ is greeted with more enthusiasm than the chorus ‘Good-Morning Sir’, which sadly lacks the weight it should carry.

Did I say ‘sadly’? Duh!

And now, mass bunk takes an alternate shape this Durga Puja, and I’m looking forward to being back in Delhi, where I’m most probably going to be 24/7/7 online, just a click (or maybe a dozen more) from anyone who gives anirudhjay@gmail.com a damn.

Anyways, mass hysteria is not what I’d ‘compare’ these bunks with. Both are differently one and the same!-Juxtaposed to one another. What say you?

After a seventy day continuum of NIT Warangal, let the student get a break from the monotony of linearity, and be left to indulge in whatever he/she might deem satiable to his/her creativity, or maybe just go sipping away the evening tea with mum, dad, bhai, behen in the veranda...
Reminds me of Ozzy Osborne’s song:

Times have changed, and times are strange,
Here I come, and I ain’t the same...
Mama I’m coming home!

5th The September

5th September. Does it ring a bell? To a vast majority (of the student populace) it does. But to some like me, it’s just any other day- No disrespect towards teachers meant. I’m lousy with dates. On one occasion, I’d forgotten my own birth anniversary-though I was forced to jog my memory when suddenly, my butt became the butt of everybody’s kicking pleasure. Birthday bums “DO” serve some purpose! Hah!

So! Classroom activity on the 5th was all as usual, plus the conferring upon our teachers (uh huh...Professors, Asst. Professors, and lecturers, mind you!) gifts, as tokens of our appreciation and respect.... (Long Pause)

The honors of presenting tiny packed boxes enclosing ‘whatever it may contain-to whomsoever it may concern’ was entrusted to the long manes (an adjective neither apt, nor conveying the true picture that follows)...owing to their evident charms. A Surd (buddy, no offence meant) and 4 girls covered 5 of our teaching faculty.

'
G-SECTION' MEET

And yeah, there was the G-section get-together by sundown. However positive the spirit might have been towards organising the event, I must say, it was a let-down as far as the arrangements were concerned-and I can say that as I wasn’t party to the scheduling, organising and stuff. Many of us got to know that the party, or so it was dubbed, had already started at 5:30pm only by 7 pm. The Nans were a challenge to the palate. Someone joked he could do better with a knife and fork! Fried rice came to sweet rescue.

Positives: Us getting back together and sparing minutes for conversation, that just about revolved around the day to day college stuff, movies, this and that....blah blah. It was good to see many had turned up (though, those who didn’t arrive have got to give their reasons-boys and ‘girl’, both.).

One of my good friends got all drunk, and helping him walk back to the hostel got me all exhausted too...and he let out some of his frustrations and secrets all the way back...Pooh! When someone on your side shouts ‘Nobody Loves Me’ with his arms on your shoulders....not the best place to be, folks! Trust me.

A RHYME, A PLEDGE

Hey Folks! Once more, I take advantage of the luxury of straying away from the NIT Warangal theme, and put before you, the distinguished readers, another instance of my pensive mood...

I wish there were a song to sing,
to bide my time in weariness
and hide the grave dug deep,
which shadows eat into the night.

A score I've scored, and played a part
The one I start now is all well planned
or so it seems to the naive self
though, strong am I to pledge a plan

If ever I am to tread a road,
one that has an even entrance
I swear to God, I'm game to but one shot...

For thus I play with destiny,
folding the letter,sealing it with a kiss
and till the mortal frame stands still...
A promise made shall be kept

-A.J
There is double meaning to this poem, in the third stanza. The strain was composed to mask the intent, a deliberation I had to employ...for what is deciphered by the other, yields me the greatest satisfaction, and thus the poesy has served its purpose.

Tech...No...Zion!!!!

Zionism represents anti-slavery. Well, in a way, Technozion is all about setting free from constraints of technology...though guys like moi, with nothing to do will go nit-picking with anything that comes their way!

Technozion 2008 is one thing that occupies the attention of many these days. I’m somewhat concerned about this forthcoming college fest. Last year, Kalam’s visit was a treat to all those who have been inspired by his life story, and his visions for a developed Inida...and all this and that. But before we bask in the grandeur of last year’s mega event, let us just have a view of what’s there to look forward to this time. I’ve decided to shut my mouth, or else I’d come up with detailed reviews of the fest way before its actual occurrence.

I shall however, not spare any hints to my intented opinion.

Frankly, I’m amazed at how less time we have for Technozion this time...to make all arrangements and preparations. The shifting of Technozion from even semester to odd, gives Spring Spree an even advantage, making it very likely that a musical and non-technical fest would look more attractive in a tech institution such as ours.
Well, we’ll see how the spider builds its web. I can only hope for the best.