Monday, November 17, 2008

And we are back folks!!!

Even though its been awaited
Its been a long time since I have been updated
So I have ventured out without permission
to complete this mission

Hello everyone,
This is the blog (me, myself and I residing at www.anakinturnsevil.blogspot.com). We met around six months ago, if you do remember. It was the 100th post on me, and I posted it, for my master was too busy and too happy to write anything. And wasn't I proud?
I am glad to meet you again, only for the second time. And I am sorry for keeping you waiting, but as always, it was my master's fault, and not mine. I do think you do know him too, don't you? If you don't, by some chance, he is called Zubin, and is a much-below-average IIT-IIM chap working as a consultant. He is still single, but if I was a girl, I am not really sure, whether I would like him or not. And though he is my master, I don't really know whether I like him or not. It is a horrible thought, for Zubin is mostly harmless and good to me, and to everyone around him, but I can't help my thoughts, can I? He is my creator, so I guess I should like him, but then he has abandoned me for the past four months, and I know people coming up to me and being disappointed to see the same old me, and I hate him for disappointing people. Four months is a long, long time to be locked up and not being updated. You know, I hear India has even won a gold medal in the Olympics. And Vishwanathan Anand has become the undisputed chess champion. India has cruised over Australia 2-0 in four tests. You see, unlike my master, I am deeply patriotic. And across the world, Obama has become the new president-elect of the US of A. How romantic, no? A rags to riches story. I am not too sure Zubin likes him much, but I love him. And Lehman Brothers has collapsed, how tragic - even though I always thought these guys made too much money, I won't rejoice in the fall of the big capitalistic society. So well, I hear so much, and now I do have to speak as well.
So now I have decided to take matters in my own hand, whether he likes it or not. For well, he just has not been able to write anything the past four months. To give him credit, he genuinely lacked time, and sometimes when he did try, he just could not write. Not that he did not have topics to write about - the past six months of his life have been the most happening, or so I do guess.
Zubin loves to complain about things. About most things anyways. And if you have been reading the posts on me, (oh poor me), you do know what I mean. It is not as if his life is bad, as he would like you to believe. It is pretty good, I think. What else can you ask for someone who has been one of the least performers wherever he has been the past 7 years? Three distinct groups of good friends, a nice job with a nice team and good money, and plenty of female company.
So what is his problem, exactly? Someone tell me please.
He is a frustrated mean bugger if u ask me. He thinks about what all he could have achieved had he put in effort during IIT and IIM. He believes his ROI is high - which is true, and which he deems is an explanation for the fact that he is an intelligent person, a fact he is very proud of. But lets assume, that his Output is constant, and seeing his marks in courses in which he did put fight, its a pretty decent assumption. So well, had he put more fight, he would have achieved same output, and that would have made his ROI as good as those of other poor performers that we know of. But he just does not believe the truth - that he is less, and not more, talented than the average IIT-IIMian. Its time someone told him this.
And if you will advice him not to make me dirty by writing bad about our great gods and heroes from epics, please do so? I respect all of them, the Krishnas and the Bhishmas and the Pandavas and Kauravas, (okay, not so much the Kauravas, for they were evil), and he makes fun of the greatest epic ever written. That too over me. God, believe me, I am not privy to his evil. Please forgive me on judgement day. Actually, thinking about it, considering I am not a living person, (who am I? I am a blog, remember), will I have a judgement day? And is my master actually my god. Then how will he judge me? I always want him to be happy, as you know, but as he does with other people, he is unable to understand it. He has a lot less understanding about life and relationships than he would care to admit, and that is why finds ways to make him seemingly simple life complicated. Will he understand all this- Can anyone make him understand all this?
I know him well I think. Its been a love hate relationship for the past three years, but I understand I am deeply linked to him. And inspite of all this, I think I don't know him. For does he know himself? As he asked, on a post here, three years ago, Is he Cain or Abel?
And continuing that, is he happy Obama, and not McCain became the President? I think not, just as he would not been happy if McCain had become the president. Why is this all so complicated?
All Obama wants to do is change the world - make it a better place to live. So why is Zubin against him? Is it because Obama is black, or because everyone likes him? And Zubin also does not like MS Dhoni, another star I appreciate, the son of the soil. Again because everyone likes him, is it?
There are a lot of questions for a day for you to worry about,are they not?
And well, I have another one, its the last and most important one, and I have been wondering about it locked there for four months, waiting to be updated:
Can you tell me what happiness means?

Thursday, June 26, 2008

About Me - Or something like it

I have been wondering lately,
whether anyone knows the real me
for I find its easy to pretend and say
"This life is the best it could be"

There is nothing wrong with anything,
but still there is a feeling of something amiss
because there was a child where I am now
and sometimes its him that I really miss

Oh how he wanted to be an adult
And achieve all his hopes and wishes
Which were simple enough, to do what he wanted to do,
and earn enough money to eat Afghani Chooza and other exotic dishes

He also wished then to have sufficient money
to buy all the books he could get his hands on
And how he wanted to do something great
Like capture Wimbledon, or become a soccer icon

But knowing him, he would have actually been happy
and I guess so would have been you
doing nothing much but living in peace
and making some money by writing a bad novel or two
(Actually he liked his parents working for him)

The child that stood here is long dead,
along with all his hopes and aspirations that were born
Now if I get any money and any time
I waste it on alcohol or buying some good JJ porn

:"Why Why Why?" I ask myself sometimes
when I am feeling a bit guilty and a bit sad
Have I failed to be the adult I wanted to be
and why I have turned out to be so bad

Thursday, June 19, 2008

Mahabharat 11: Kauravas vs Pandavas

Before the advent of Dronacharya, the Kauravas and the Pandavas were getting their preliminary education from Guru Kripacharya. The Pandavas were as good as the Kauravas in studies, and in Bhima, Duryodhana had a match for his physical strength. And Bhima knew it too.
Being a Pandava during those times had its own advantages. They had lost their dad, Pandu - who, when you come to think of it, was not even their dad - and their mom/stepmom, Madri, and so commanded extra love wherever they went. Which meant that they could get away with whatever they did, and the Pandavas had the intelligence to use it to their own strength. Here is an example:
After another hard day at school, Duryodhana is thinking about how fast the Pandavas have caught up with him, when Bhima, the second and strongest of the Pandavas, comes up to him, takes him by the arm and whispers:
Bhima (to Duryodhana): You know, I have access to the latest Kamasutra magazine, it is an year end edition and features the best Apsaras of the year- all nude. Am arranging for a copy - Do you want it, brother?
Duryodhana: Sure, Bhima, where can I get it? I have been waiting to get a copy, but have never been able to get one myself. I dont have the contacts living in this palace. Papa never lets me go out and make new friends, and being the oldest, I am supposed to uphold family tradition and blah blah. How much do I want it, please give it to me. How much will it cost? And how do you get access to it?
Bhima: Your next two months pocket money. You know, Mother Kunti is very strict about money. She doesnt give us Pandavas half as much pocket money as Aunt Gandhari gives you. Says crap about my father being dead and all that. And yes, I have just beaten up five of your younger brothers - they are too many of them if you ask me - I dont even remember their names, but they were making a lot of noise while I was trying to eat mangoes and so I beat them. If they just say anything to uncle Dhritrashtra or Grandfather Bhishma, I will be in trouble. Do take care of that, cant you and I will give you the copy. As for your questions about procuring it, having friends in the jungle helps. You know about piracy? Thats what these guys do. But you know its still a considerable risk getting them, and I am risking that. Just for you.
Duryodhana: OK. I will explain the matter to my younger brothers. Which group was it? Was it the one with Vikarna (that is the loudest, I swear) or is the group with the naughty Sahan in it? Or wait - do you remember any number on their jerseys they were wearing.
Bhima: yeah, one of them had No. 32 written on it.
Duryodhana (after 5 minutes of counting on his fingers): Oh yeah, that was Upanandan, the 32nd Kauravas. Isnt this a cool idea Bhima - and the coolest thing about the idea is - it is mine. I have made Papa order jerseys for us. So that everyone can remember who is who. We Indians being good in maths, I thought it was a cool way to remember my brothers. They have just come in today. Check out my new No. 1 jersey. (Author's note: And when you say 22 for Kaka, you now know where the concept originated - right. They could not have remembered the names without the numbers - could they?)
Bhima: Yes, yes. Enough of this. Talk to Upananda and the rest of the gang, give me the money, and take the copy.
Duryodhana: Thanks Bhima. Dont worry about my brothers. They only do what I tell them to do. And I will tell them to keep shut. Here is the money. Meet me at the back of the blue tree in the evening - I would have talked to them by then. Don't you worry.
Bhima: Cool. Meet you at the back of the blue tree. blue tree, blue tree - and so singing Bhima goes out
(Scene shifts to inside the Kaurava palace).
Duryodhana was masturbating in the Kaurava bathroom with his new (and so far) only copy of the Kamasutra yearend edition, and there was a long line of other Kaurava princes outside, who were waiting to see what the buzz was all about. All they could here was the oohs and the aahs from Duryodhana, and at first they thought their eldest brother had a fit - before being informed by Dushasan (who was the Man Friday for the eldest brother) about what treasures Duryodhana had inside. And then everyone got into line according to their jersey numbers (which again was listed agewise). And as the line was being formed in the bathroom and outside, (for it was a very long line) suddenly in walked the elders, Bhishma, Dhritrashtra and Vidura, with the Pandavas in tow. Duryodhana's aahs and oohs were heard and were proof of the shameful act, while his other brothers were reprimanded and sent back to their rooms.
Dhritrashtra (who was blind): Yeh kya ho raha hai beta Duryodhana? (What is taking place, Duryodhana?) (This was where it all started - it was to become the blind king's most popular dialogue to his son).
Duryodhana (not knowing what to do): aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!!
Bhishma : Arent you ashamed of yourself Duryodhana. Reading such magazines at your age. You are spoiling your younger brothers also. Now finish whatever you are doing soon, and come outside soon.
Duryodhana: Yes Grandpa!!!! Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!!!! I am just coming.
And then Duryodhana came. (Outside I mean, you perverts).
Dhritrashtra: Yeh kya ho raha hai beta Duryodhana?
Duryodhana: Am sorry Papa. You know this new edition is really hot.
Bhishma: Shut up Duryodhana. And tell me where did you get this copy. Vidura take this away ("He is the only one among us three who can use this. Dhritrashtra is blind, and as you all know, I am gay," he might have added, but he didn't).
Duryodhana: Bhima sold it to me. He got it from his jungle friends. And he even beat Upananda, Pasey, Sunaney, No. 63 and No..... (I even forget their names now papa).
Bhima: No no no no..I didnt grandpa. I dont know what he is talking about. I just heard something about a bad magazine here nearby and came to tell you - because magazines like these are a bad influence for someone like Duryodhana. I even tried to stop him, but he didnt listen. Did I not do the right thing? Why is Duryodhana attributing it to me now? Why is he taking my name?
Dhritrashtra: Yudhishtra, you always speak the truth. Is it right what Duryodhana is saying?
Yudhishtra: Why are you questioning me now Uncle? Why is my cousin trying to bring Bhima into the picture? You know our dad is dead and....
Dhritrashtra: I know and I am sorry Pandavas. Duryodhana, you are given detention for the entire month for the shameful act and for lying and putting the blame on your righteous elder cousin, you will not be served food for next 48 hours. Starve now. Your brothers will be detained for two weeks.
Duryodhana: But papa.
But by then his dad, and all the others had left. So Duryodhana went to his uncle Shakuni.
Shakuni : "What happened? Did the Pandavas make a fool of you again?"
Duryodhana: "Yes they did, mamu? But how did you know?"
Shakuni: "Hamaare jasoos is mahal ke kone kone mein hai" ("We have our spies in every corner of the palace - a dialogue that gained popularity only with Sholay some 3000 years later). And anyways, your face tells the story - every time. So what happened now."
Duryodhana finished the story.
Shakuni starts laughing at the end of it all. And then says "So he not only got your money, and beat your brothers, but also got you detained - for a month. How he fooled you!!!" Then suddenly turning grey, he whispered, "That Bhima is an evil boy - you must do something about him."
Duryodhana: "But what can I do. You always say this all the time - and he still makes me a fool, and beats up my poor brothers. And only I am strong enough to fight him. But he is my cousin, and moreover, papa and grandpa will scold me if I pick up a fight."
Shakuni : "Then just sit here talking to me and do nothing. What have your grandpa and papa given you anyways. They love the Pandavas and Bhima more than you, and there is nothing you can do about it."
Duryodhana : "Papa loves me, and grandpa too. But I am not too sure about Vidura. He is the one who is always trying to bring me down, I think"
Shakuni : "They did love you my poor nephew, before the Pandavas came to town. Now they all love the Pandavas. Noone, except me, cares about you."
Duryodhana: "I guess you are right uncle. But what should I do."
Shakuni : "All you Kauravas gather and beat him up to bully him."
Duryodhana: "That won't work, uncle. All my other brothers are afraid of him. Do not want to go near him. I am the only one who is that courageous." (Smiles, feeling proud of himself)
Shakuni : "Foolish, conceited boy you are. If you cannot beat him physically, let us teach him a lesson strategically."
Duryodhana : "How Mamaji?"
Shakuni : "A plan to get rid of Bheema I have. Are you interested?"
Duryodhan: "Yes I am"
And he whispers!!!!!

(To be continued)



s

Thursday, May 08, 2008

The best daze of our lives

(If you are a purist IIMCian, and believe everything that happens here is good, don't read it. And this is a case in point of all IIMs, and the criticism holds true, maybe truer, for other IIMs.) And so it ends. People had said this place grows on you, that these will be the best days of our lives, and I was like, "Yeah, surely. Definitely, I am surely going to love this place. What with the campus situated in the middle of nowhere, and birds who shit at you all the time. And with its evident focus only on placements and nothing else, yes by the time I pass out I will be really sorry to leave it." That, as you can probably make out was a sarcasm. But despite of everything mentioned above, I am a little sorry to leave this place. And I am going to miss it sometimes.
The first opinion of Joka as you enter its gates after a bumpy ride from the Howrah station, to be very honest, is nothing remarkable. In fact, it is the exact opposite of remarkable. While you have been told that IIM Calcutta is a bird sanctuary, with XYZ species of birds visiting it, the entire scope of that statement doesn't hit you till you see the main road of the campus littered with bird shit. And then there is the -----------. A week of intense action, when you do start hating yourself for ever being lucky enough to make it to this place.
And then came probably the most depressing session in IIMC, when people - who were fellow students like us, and probably younger - but who had managed to impress IIMC professors in interviews one year before our batch did - told us in a holier-than-thou tone, "You are here for slot 0 and nothing else." The reason they were entitled to keep this tone was because they were the Placement Coordinators - students with the maximum power in IIMC. Their statement about slot 0 basically meant that all that we did in the next two years was with an eye on the final placements. Thats the kind of place it was meant to be. Happily, and fortunately, I found many people who did not think that way. This post is a toast to them, and the wonderful time I have had because of them. This is a post dedicated to Olypub, Someplace Else, Atrium, and even Artland. This is a post dedicated to people who were just happy in being there, and did not give a more than necessary worry about what awaited them after two years.This is a post dedicated to the Flash Gordon Trophy, Quad Cricket, and general bakaiti in the NH Quad, as well as to DC++, Aara, NeoNazi, Bhatti, CoolDude, whatsinaname and all the movies, TV shows and porn availale there.
Thanks so much for making this place what it is!!!
I still hate the "I pat your back and you pat mine" attitude that screams out from this place,and the "IIMC rawks" genre of people, who are found a dime a dozen within the boundaries of Joka.
This place does not rock because it ensures you a good first job, or the chance of a great career, but it rocks despite it. That here you can still find people who are ready to get dead drunk and hear a JBS version of "Hey Jude" or an Altaf hit at 4 in the night, when there is a class at 8 in the morning. That here people will be willing to go to Olypub on the eve of a mid-term, or better, get high in their room. That here people are ready to leave aside studies and career for a few moments, and just enjoy the participation in the Quad cricket or the Flash Gordon trophy. That people can just sometimes forget the destination and enjoy the journey for what it is.
This is the biggest problem with IIM Calcutta, or any other IIM for that matter, the 2 years are just seen as a means to the end of that (point one!) million dollar salary, and not an end in themselves. So unlike engineering colleges, where all you care about in the first three (or four) years is just to enjoy life for what it is - without thinking about the future. That, unfortunately is not the case with IIMs.
So, well it feels good, that some people, for some time at least, can think about the journey more than the destination themselves, and that for sometime, whether you get a slot 0 or not does not matter.

(I might be a loser, but at least I am a whining loser!!!).

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Mahabharat 10: The Advent of Drona

Kripacharya and Kripi were twins of the Brahmin Shardwan and an apsara Janapadi. Contrary to other Brahmins, Shardwan was a great archer, and threatened by his valour, Indra send his apsara Janapadi to seduce him. Shradwan was hunting on the banks of the Ganga river when he noticed Janapadi. He had been immune to female form before, having his desires under control, but as soon as she saw the beautiful apsara, Shradwan lost all control, and had a big hard on. He could not control himself when the apsare came over and started touching his bare chest. What also helped was that it was soon turning dark, and these two bodies lay over one other on the weeds. Soon he was sucking her beautiful and heavy breasts, while she was giving him a hand job. Shardwan felt in heaven - literally, for he had an apsara from heaven - and soon they were into the real thing. Shardwan enjoyed every minute of it, it was his first time, and that too with an apsara!!! But while he wanted to make her his bitch, she requested him not to impregnate her, and so he had to cum all over her breasts and mouth. However, a part of his seed and the apsara's wet juices, who had been turned on by the athletic Shardwan more than any Deva, also managed to find their way into some weeds, and parted those weeds into two parts, and there - in a process which can only be defined as test tube babies - were born Kripa and Kripi, nine whole months later.
As soon as the sex was over, and Shardawan lay panting over Janapadi's naked body, Shardwan knew he had been fooled by Indra, as Brahmins lost most of their valour after being seduced by Apsaras. He then told Janapadi to go back to heaven, and resumed his archery lessons, caring nothing about the embryos they had left there in the jungle. The embryos survived rain and heat, and as soon as they were born, were picked up by Shantanu, who was passing that way - in one of those moments when he travelled along the Ganga daily after Ganga had left him. The boy Kripa became the official Guru of the Hastinapur court, while Kripi grew up to be a beautiful brahmin girl, who was married off to Drona, a Brahmin who had become famous as the greatest archery teacher of all times.
Now Drona's birth also has a peculiar story. His father Bhardwaj was a very famous sage, who was going to take a bath with his other sages, again in the river Ganga. This happened in Dehradun (which means a clay pot in Sanskrtit), where he beheld a beautiful apsara named Ghritachi who had come to bathe. Seeing her, even the sage Bhardwaj lost all control, and started masturbating. Because he was a sage who wanted to rid himself from all attractions and so was furious at himself even as he was openly masturbating seeing the apsara. And so as not to let his semen go waste, he captured his semen in a pot (Drona), read some mantra into it, and out sprang Drona - who later boasted that a woman was not even involved in making him.
Drona spent his childhood in poverty as the child of the renowned sage Bhardwaj. His father taught him Vedas, and the use of arms. Bhardwaj was also a friend of the powerful Panchala king Prishata, whose son Drupada was of almost same age as Drona. Drupada was sent to Bhardwaj's ashram as his student, and soon gained the knowledge of arms to become one of the best archers, while Drona became more engrossed in Vedas, like his father. A great friendship fostered between Drupada, who despite being a prince was very down to earth, and Drona, who was very intelligent, which Drupada appreciated. Being the students of the same teacher, Drupada even told Drona one day : "One day when I will become the king, Drona, I will give half of my kingdom to you, as a mark of our friendship. People will remember us for ages to come."
But then their education ended, and Drupada returned back to being the prince, while Drona became a sage like his father. In those days, in the absence of mobile phones and internet, it was pretty difficult to keep in touch, and so Drona only knew of Drupada's well being when a passerby told him that Drupada's father was now dead, and that Drupada was the new king, which made Drona feel happy for his friend. By this time, Drona's father, the great sage Bhardwaj, had also ascended to heaven.
The matchmakers of the area got the bachelor Drona married to Kripi, the beautiful sister of Kripa, and it was the start of a beautiful friendship between Kripa and Drona, two great teachers to be. Drona was on cloud nine after the marriage. It was his first time with a girl, and the memory of the sweet wedding night remained engrained in his mind for time to come. He had never been told the secrets of a woman's pleasure by his father, so he continued to explore the body of his new wife, and was happy. He soon became a father, exactly nine months after his wedding night. The boy child was beautiful but neighed like a horse instead of crying out when he came out of his mother's womb, at which an aakashwani was heard : "This boy neighed like a horse, so name him Ashwathama." In those days, aakashwanis were as sacrosanct as deadlines are in IIMC today, so it was followed.
It was love at first sight. Drona could never imagine any child as beautiful as his own. As time progressed, Ashwathama looked up to his father, a fact that made him very happy (in fact the only fact that made him happy) : for lets face it, Drona, for all his knowledge of Vedas and the arms, was a LOSER, who still made up his living mostly by begging for alms. He did not want to take ordinary students in his gurukul, and the admission criteria being very tough, and he did not get students in his gurukul like his father used to. So he made ends meet mostly by begging and hunting and his wife, who had given up her palatial status, was always reminding him about his poverty after the honeymoon ended. So the day that Kripi came to know that Parshuram, the renowned teacher, was giving away all his possessions, she sent Drona to ask him for his money - for Parshuram was a very rich sage. However, by the time Drona reached, all of his worldly possessions were taken and Parshuram was left with was weapons and his knowledge of those weapons. He didn't take students easily, but Drona was said to be a pretty fast learner, and so he asked Drona if he wanted his knowledge of weapons, to which Drona remembered his wife's stern words: "Don't come back unless you get something from Parshuram. Beg, borrow or steal, but do come back with something.", and therefore agreed to be Parshuram's student. Being a Brahman and having knowledge of arms from his father, Parshuram gave him all his weapons and told him his secrets and instructed him to become a great teacher. Drona went back to his village- it was a long arduous journey - feeling very happy, about getting Parshuram's weapons and his secrets, and how Parshuram had predicted that Drona will become a great teacher.
One day,Ashwathama was playing with his friends - all of whom were well to do - and saw them drinking something from a glass, and he innocently asked, "What is this?" To which his friend replied. "It is milk. It is very tasty." And Ashwathama asked,"Can I have some, never before have I tasted it", to which his friends laughed. They said, "This is finished, let us get some more for you." Now these rich kids wanted to have a bit of fun at Ashwathama's expense, so they put some water to rice, mixed it well, and told Ashwathama, "Here this is milk. Have it." And Ashwathama drank it well and with pleasure, and danced around in pleasure, saying that, "I have tasted milk - Wow." By then the entire village had gathered to watch Ashwathama antics, and villagers were whispering, "Shame on Drona, who some say has now become a great archer, but his son cannot even afford to have milk, and drinks rice water as milk." As it so happened, Drona was just coming back from Parshuram's ashram, and overheard this last comment. Drona got incensed, and was further angered, when he saw Kripi crying over the treatment meted out to their son. Kripi asked him, "I hope you got us some money", to which Drona replied, "I just got more knowledge," to which Kripi retorted, "And when has knowledge fed anybody? You know how our child was made a fool of - and look how happy he looks. Why don't you kill me and our child rather than subjecting us to such poverty and scorn!" And that, when pressed by these charges of his wife, he blurted out, "Wait - I will do whatever is in my power - I am leaving this village. Pack you bags - We are leaving for Panchal tonight. The king of Panchal, Drupad, is my best friend. He will give me half a kingdom, he has promised me. We will live in richness ever after."
And so they packed their bags, leaving their ancestral village for good, Drona, Kripi and the young Ashwathama. All along the way, Drona kept boasting to Kripi about how Drupad will treat Ashwathama as his own son; and how he will give them a welcome fit for a king. Kripi was impressed by the talk- but had a lurking suspicion something would go wrong. And it did - horribly wrong. Drupad had just got married to a gorgeous princess, and all his time was spent having sex with her, or drinking - and he liked living life on a high. He had also grown proud of his immense wealth and his valour - for he had made the Panchal nation stronger than any other in the whole of Bharat. Also on that particular day - he had a bit more sex and a bit more alcohol, and he felt very high. So when Drona came up to his darbar, and said, "Friend - remember me - I am your friend Drona, welcome me, amigo.", Drupad just laughed, and taking the cue, the rest of the darbar, laughed with him. When the laughter stopped , Drupad told Drona, "Surely you are a fool, for you say that you are my friend, for only a fool will make such a statement. We might have been friends once - but then we were similar for we were students. A king cannot be friend with an unworthy and poor Brahman like you. There can be no friendship being strong and weak, being wise and foolish, and as time conquers all, it has also conquered our friendship, so I am no longer a friend. Hence do not address me as your friend, but ask for alms as an ordinary Brahman, and I will let you have whatever you want." Drona was speechless with anger. He was not a man of many ambitions, but this insult left him fuming, and without saying a word, he took his wife and son and walked out of the court- his mind burning with desire for revenge. He thought of a plan - and told Kripi and Ashwathama, that they were going to visit her brother Kripacharya, and off they went to Hastinapur.

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

The 100th post - A time for introspection

"In a Galaxy far, far away." - This is my favourite line, and for obvious reasons.

I was created on 27th May, 2005, because - well I am not really sure why I was created, after all my creator never told me. I am not very sure he knows too (and between you and me, even if he did, he would have probably forgotten it by now, what will all the alcohol problem that he has had - and you know what they say about alcohol and memory, right?). But I am again going off the main point - which as many of my friends say is my main problem (there I do it again, I am so sorry, I just can't help it, can I?). Now the main point is this - I am here to introduce myself to you. And I could not think of a better way to start than by mentioning when I was created - so that you can work out my correct age, and pardon me if I seem a bit childish - because I am still just two years old.
Oops, but by now you must be wondering who am I for I haven't really told you my name. I am "Me, myself and I", the blog you stare at whenever you type www.anakinturnsevil.blogspot.com on your internet browser. Now, as my creator explained painstakingly to me the other day - we were celebrating our ninety nine posts together - www.anakinturnsevil.blogspot.com is the internet address where I live, and you have to come there to meet me. My creator - he is called Zubin, by the way, and I think it is a very strange name, but who am I to judge? - also tells me that my name lets other people know that I am his image in the internet world. Now I find it hard to understand this concept, for how can I be his reflection - for I am a separate entity, which I told him. Then he explained to me that I had no mind of my own - hello- and that I was just a collection of posts which his own mind thinks of and pens down - haha, he said pens down, which made me laugh, because I was like, you don't pen it down, you type it, and he said he used to term as a figure of speech. This angered him, somehow, he said he was going through a lot of stress, and that without him, I am nothing, and that he can any time leave me and start on a new blog, abandoning me altogether, and the thought made me tremble. So I apologised to him for laughing, and he continued, that I wasn't able to think and hence unable to come up with anything to do for myself without him. And I told him - "Sir - for I have to call him sir, after all he has created me - please give me a chance to prove you wrong. I have a mind, and its time you know that. "(You see, I don't, and can't do anything without approval from him, but to say I don't have a mind - that is rude, don't you think?). And he grew angry again at my insolence, and closed my door (shut off his computer), but two days ago, he was very happy, and told me - "I am very happy today, and so make you an offer. I am letting your thoughts - if you have any, even though I don't believe so - to appear on you. The next post on this blog (which meant me) will be your thoughts. I want a break from the Mahabharat series I am doing anyways, and I have no time for introspection. After all, I just got a job. Its time to party - so write a post and publish it. And just to make people happy, I will write the subject line." And he went out of the room, and hasn't returned to me yet. Must be partying.
So well, I finally get a chance to talk to all you people out there, just you and me, without that Zubin and his thoughts in between. It is a big moment for me, and I am sure, for you as well to meet the real me. So I made a small poem for the occasion. Hope it goes well with you:

We meet here for the first time,
Just you and me, without those extra, stupid thoughts,
and you can confirm I have a splendid mind,
for I just made up this brilliant note.
I am sure this is brilliant for a two year old, but you have got to confirm it.
So tell me, isn't this nice? It is short and sweet, right?
(My friends say brevity is not my cup of tea, so I had to give it to them in their face).

Now that we have broken the ice, let us talk about other things. Well, the only things you have known about me, have been things that Zubin has told you. It might or might not be true.
For example, did you know that Zubin is prone to delete the entire post after he has written it - but before publishing. He has done it a lot of times before and I am sure going to finish it in one go - so as not to give him a chance to change his mind, which he does regularly. And has he told you he is more comfortable with his parents now than he has been for the past one quarter of a century. Or that he thinks of girls as nothing more than sexual and dancing objects now - which is in part a good thing, I will have to admit - because he has been heartbroken a lot of times before. And that he considers himself to be very lucky to be able to get along into the best institutes without knowing anything at all. And that he is finally happy with himself, and at peace with the world, especially after getting a pretty decent job offer.
But much about him. This post is about me, and as I was saying, this is also my 100th post. I feel great today and complete. When I was created, I had no idea I will come so far. Zubin has many times threatened me with deletion, and has ignored me a lot in the past as well. But I hold no grudges against him. He has me as a friend when all other friends have left him, and I guess he knows it, that is why he takes me for granted. But today, I am sure he feels as happy for my 100th post as I feel for him getting a job.
I have been through a lot in the past 99 posts you know. I haven't really liked being posted about our ancestors and gods made to be sex-hungry animals. Nor I have liked the use of such words as f*** on myself. Neither have I liked people stopping to read me because it depressed them. But well, I am my creator's creation, and I have to just be a medium for his thoughts, and I cannot really complain. I have borne the brunt of his mood swings, and been the paper for his sexual Mahabharat. I have also been his confidante in matters of love, and about life. Now that I think about it - he is very philosophical.
But I guess all that is changing now. I am hoping I go into a new level as far as my reading audience is concerned, and that people like what they read when they type my name on the internet browser. I am funny now, and humorous, and sexy. People tell Zubin, who tells me, that they like me, and I am happy about that. I am tired now though because it has been a long and arduous journey I have been through suicidal posts as well, and posts which say foolish things like "Love makes a world go around" - which I think is totally stupid, personally - and posts which talk about life at IIT - which is a rather loser place, I must say, even though he will blow at the idea. I have posts about nightclubs in US and France, and also parties at IIMC - which just scores below IIT on the cool scale, which is not saying anything at all- and all these have just made me realize that let me enjoy the present cool phase while I can.
You never know when his mood can change. So here is to a happy and satisfied me, and a funny and humorous me. And let us continue the sexy Mahabharat, for the benefits of the general public. And from now on, having proved I have my own mind, I will try telling him to get better when he feels low. And if you liked the poem above, here is more:

So here I complete a hundred posts,
wow - and am so happy about the fact
and am hopeful I continue to attract,
your comments, so that I don't feel morose.
Its also been great meeting you today,
while hoping you feel the same too,
and even though I don't know you,
I was waiting for this from my very first day.
Thanks for helping me reach this landmark,
for if it wasn't for your sweet appreciation,
Zubin would have left me for cancellation,
and I would have lost all my spark.
So, dear reader, I would like you to tell Zubin this,
that his blog has a mind of its own,
its a mind that has fast grown,
and will soon probably be maturer than his.

Thursday, January 10, 2008

Mahabharata 9: The Kauravas and the Pandavas - 2

Kunti was sad. The jungle life didn't quite go with her. She was a city girl, who loved parties and the adulation of the public. Even the birth of her three children, Yudhishtra, Bhima and Arjuna, had been unable to give her life a meaning. She still often brooded about her eldest son, Karna, the son of the Sun-God, Surya, whom she had thrown into the river for fear of someone finding out about her affair with the God, for pre-marital sex was banned at that time. She knew that there was a very small chance of him still being alive, but she knew somehow (mother's instinct) that he was still alive, and moreover, doing well for himself. And she also knew that his armour and earrings distinguish her eldest son from anyone else on earth, and if she were to ever see him, she would recognize him at once. "And then what would I do?" she often wondered, and she never could come up with the answer.
Meanwhile, the Pandavas were growing up hale and hearty, and Pandu was still making along by masturabating for sex was a strict no-no. To tease him, Madri and Kunti were acting more and more like lesbian partners. Pandu, being pained by Madri's confession that she had not one, but two Gods inside her at the same time (which lead to the birth of Nakul and Sahadeva, the twins) had banned any more sex for both Madri and Kunti, which led them to seek each other. The Pandavas were being taught by the sadhus in the jungle, and their mothers saw to it that they knew that the Hastinapur kingdom was technically theirs for the taking, for their father (foster-father) was the king of Hastinapur, fallen upon bad days. And so the years passed.
Till the day Pandu lost it. Quite literally. It was the twelfth birthday of Arjuna, and the entire family was busy with the birthday celebration. Madri was looking really sexy in her new dress, and Kunti too, as always, but Pandu was really sad. He had been denied sex for so long, and while he had taken to masturbation a lot, it wasn't quite the real thing. The entire family was busy in cutting the cake and feeding the sadhus. The lustful eyes with which the sadhus were lechering at his two wives, made him even sadder. And the body language of Madri and Kunti also showed him that even they didn't mind the passes being made by the sadhus, through their double meaning sentences, (such as "tumhara doodh bahut accha hai", at which Kunti just said, "Aur piyo rishiji, humaare pati to ab hamara doodh pee hee nahin sakte", and they all had laughed, all except Pandu, who felt humiliated). He was being made the cuckold here, and he certainly did not like it. "Keep some standard, women" he wanted to shout out to his two wives, who, as far as he knew, only had sex before with him or gods (leaving aside Kunti with Vidur, of course, but even Vidur was a god incarnate according to Ved Vyasa), and stooping themselves to saadhus' would bring disgrace to the family. But seeing the lust in the brahmins' eyes also turned him pretty horny. He could see what all was he missing - the figures of his two wives had not changed much even after giving births - and he knew at that moment, that he wanted sex. Taking Madri by her waist, he took her into the bedroom and kissed her. Madri was overcome with this show of emotion by Pandu, and while her flesh was willing to go the full distance - it had been 11 long years since she last had sex- she calmed herself, and told Pandu to stop. "Please stop, dear husband - or you will die." Pandu: "But I can't, and this life is not worth living after all. I prefer death to such a life - and what better way to die than in the arms of ones beloved. So come lets fuck." And he starts sucking those wonderful globes. Madri: "But this is wrong hubby. I can't be the reason for you to die. mmm...but it feels so good, keep doing it. Don't stop." And as you can guess now, Madri had sex for the first time after 11 years, while Pandu had after 16 long years. They had soon gotten naked and enjoyed many sexual positions, forgetting all about the curse Pandu was under. It was the best sex anyone had ever enjoyed, and Madri was still moaning "harder, harder" when Pandu's face suddenly went white. He had sweat spots on his face, and he had fallen dead while ejaculating into Madri. Madri let out a huge cry, "Kunti Didi" which made Kunti leave the celebrations and run into the bedroom, to see Madri in bed with her husband who was now dead.
Kunti:"Husband, what has happened? Bitch, what have you done?" (Starts crying).
Madri: "I am sorry, but I just could not stop myself - or him. I am really sorry. Forgive me sister."
Kunti: "Now who will care for us now? What will we do without a husband?"
Madri: "Didi, let us prepare the funeral site. I, being responsible for Pandu's death, will burn along with it. But promise me, Didi, that you will take care of Nakul and Sahadev as your own sons."
Kunti: "Pandu has already left me. Now you want to leave too. But what will I do without you two? I am sorry for calling you a bitch - please don't leave me. Just be here, and we can think of something."
Madri: "Didi, I am sorry, but I cannot bear the guilt of being responsible for his death. So let me go as well. And please promise me."
Kunti: "I promise Madri, but tell me - how did he feel after all these years? You were lucky I must say, for having seen Pandu in his greatest glory after so long."
Madri:"He was great sister, it was so much fun, and after having had experienced it, it is better to die than to live, and so let me burn along with my husband."
And so Madri sits on the funeral pyre along with the body of her deceased husband, and burns alive. This was later mouldedd into the tradition of Sati in India.
Hearing about Pandu's death and Madri's subsequent sati, the entire Hastinapur clan was mournful. Pandu had been apparently a great king, grandson, son, nephew, brother and husband. After the mourning period was over, Bhishma himself went to Kunti in the jungle and told her to come back to the Hastinapur palace along with the five Pandavas, to take their rightful place as princes. So Kunti came back to the Hastinapur palace, to live as a queen, and the five Pandavas, got some new friends - their Kaurava cousins. Pandavas and their mother got a new apartment within the palace walls, and enjoyed the change from the forest life they were used to.
Meanwhile, all the Kauravas were deeply influenced by their big brother, Duryodhana - all except Yuyutsu, the step-brother. Meanwhile, Duryodhana himself was under the spell of his maternal uncle, Shakuni, who had told him all this while, that being the eldest son of the eldest son (Dhritrashtra) Duryodhana deserved to be the new king of Hastinapur after his father. And all of Shakuni's efforts were towards making Duryodhana believe it himself. Duryodhana for his part showed signs of greatness even when he was quite young. The training of the Kauravas started early - when they were just twelve infact - and Duryodhana was easily the best among them. The training was conducted by Kripacharya, the in-house teacher who had also taught Dhritrashtra, Pandu and Vidura. Kripacharya also had a sister, Kripi, who was married to the great teacher, Drona.
So when the Pandavas joined the Kauravas, Bhishma suggested that the Pandavas train too under Kripacharya, and they did. Duryodhana, who never before had any competition to his stature as the best, could not get used to the idea of someone surpassing him, which is what Yudhishtra did in the political sciences department, while Bhima beat him in strength. Moreover, Duryodhana could not quite come to terms with the fact that while earlier he was the adored one, the affections of his parents and grandparents, and even great grandmother Satyavati were divided among the Kauravas and the Pandavas. Only Shakuni, his maternal uncle, loved him as much as before, he thought. And as the others withdrew from him, he grew closer to Shakuni, whose mind was still on defeating Bhishma, and in Duryodhana, he finally had a weapon. And there lay the seed of the discord, which ultimately led to the Mahabharat.