tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73422592024-03-08T16:11:23.350+05:30Insanely Inane ThoughtsIf fate doesn't make you laugh, you just don't get the joke.Rohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07885041172692414578noreply@blogger.comBlogger136125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7342259.post-3380057719856969182008-08-03T17:14:00.002+05:302008-08-03T17:19:26.954+05:30CallingI'm back.It's hard to believe that I have been away for so long. So many things have changed yet how they remain the same. A shining example of this remains to be Ekkkkkkkkta Kaput's sitcoms. It really doesn't matter how many 'twenty year' leaps they take, the movie stars the characters still talk about are SRK, Hrithik Roshan and Aamir. Talk about a time-wrap.Rohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07885041172692414578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7342259.post-1154962761916686472006-08-07T20:24:00.000+05:302006-08-07T20:31:48.326+05:30six word storiesStory I: happy at lastGave up drinking?No.Then?Wife.Story II: Was that so hard, Mr. Freud?He saw her and got one.In other news, I'd been busy scouting for jobs. That didn't work out well at all. Leaving that, I've had some poetry published online with more coming out pretty soon.Links:ElimaeAndwerveedifice WRECKEDForthcoming in:elimaeGUDWild ChildThe DeepeningRohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07885041172692414578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7342259.post-1150711920999726082006-06-19T15:41:00.000+05:302006-06-19T15:42:01.016+05:30TurbulenceAnything wrong, pilot?Yes.What?Vertigo.Rohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07885041172692414578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7342259.post-1150133480508959662006-06-12T22:57:00.000+05:302006-07-11T22:17:53.996+05:30Picture IIRohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07885041172692414578noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7342259.post-1149922784277256952006-06-10T12:25:00.000+05:302006-06-10T12:29:44.313+05:30Picture IRohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07885041172692414578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7342259.post-1149738411524049242006-06-08T09:16:00.000+05:302006-06-08T09:16:51.543+05:30Dear Disgusting Train Traveler,Sleep is such a marvelous thing, isn’t it? Especially when you are stuck in travel. I can see you nodding so I’ll take it as a yes.Oh, what’s that? You are nodding, yes, but nodding off to sleep. I get that because you are slithering your head all over my back like a bad rash. And if that isn’t bad enough, you also seem to be a dribbler.What is a dribbler, you ask.Well, a dribbler is almost like Rohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07885041172692414578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7342259.post-1149332959985835582006-06-03T16:38:00.000+05:302006-06-03T16:39:20.003+05:30A return of sorts and a nod to SeinfeldWhy is Gmail is still counting? I mean how insecure is Google? 2000 MB, 2200 MB, 2500 MB…Are people impressed with it yet? Oh, 2800 MB; okay I’ll open an account. But we can’t. Gmail is still invite only. It’s like telling people that you have 1000 playmates in your apartment and then counting to them each bikini as proof. Sooner or later, they will get tired of it and will want it. But if they Rohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07885041172692414578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7342259.post-1146201752984510322006-04-28T10:51:00.000+05:302006-04-28T10:54:13.956+05:30Even More ReservationsJune 2060: We have even lost Andaman now. Our Army, led by the Head Chef, had no answers to the expert stick-wielding tactics used by the Jarowa tribes. It was the turn of the SBC (Strangely Backward Classes) to lead the Army and he was the only representative of that class in the Army. Our Army, it is heard, threw potatoes and artichokes at the aggressive Jarowa tribesmen. The Jarowa tribes are Rohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07885041172692414578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7342259.post-1146145044448998302006-04-27T19:03:00.000+05:302006-04-27T19:07:24.466+05:30Do You Have Resevations?From an email I got:An excerpt from Emcee's diary exactly 50 years from now:Ahmedabad, 30 April 2056: I attended the bash at the IIM-OBC Alumni Association to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of the reservation of seats for OBCs (Other Backward Castes) in IIMs. Since I'm not an OBC, I was not supposed to attend, but at present, we MBFCs (Moderately Backward Forward Castes) together with the Rohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07885041172692414578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7342259.post-1143121305657067052006-03-23T19:09:00.000+05:302006-03-23T19:11:45.673+05:30Taking CuesI lay drenched in summer’s sighon a bed that makes me seem likea beetle in jungle foliage as I watchthe dark descend through dusk’sarousal and then I hear you enter,breathe you whole beforemy lungs constrict, as if searching for air through vaccum,my arms go leaden, like rigor,my legs entwine, like Jesus,my ears numb, as if stuffed with cotton,and my eyelids glue as one.You flick on the switch, Rohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07885041172692414578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7342259.post-1139495378942749822006-02-09T19:57:00.000+05:302006-02-09T19:59:38.946+05:305:04 localRepost of an earlier blog; retouched slightly.She refused to answer my question even as the slow local pulled in towards the station, half-mired in shade and half in the glow of the setting sun. Hundreds of commuters thronged towards it as if it was their ticket to heaven. Passengers in the train held onto their seats for dear life till the train stopped completely. Some foolish, albeit brave, Rohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07885041172692414578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7342259.post-1139144418254085772006-02-05T18:27:00.000+05:302006-02-05T18:40:13.676+05:30Shadows of our mindCarmelle sighed, easing back from the letter while setting her pen on the table. She rubbed her temples and looked towards the window. The pitter-patter of the raindrops against the windowpane dispelled the quiet within the room. Her eyes followed the raindrops, which were washing away the grime from the window. If only it were so easy, she thought. The storm had knocked out the power and the Rohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07885041172692414578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7342259.post-1137753478118319502006-01-20T16:06:00.000+05:302006-01-20T16:07:58.130+05:30An OldieInanimate LifeThe plate devoured the muffins at the same time the coffee machine jumped on the server.“Writing can be terrible sometimes,” the diner said. “Having no ideas to fall back on is the bane of a writer.” The tea-cup was munching on his daily newspaper while he stared at the street outside.“There needs to be that spark which will ignite the author’s mind,” he continued. The ceiling Rohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07885041172692414578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7342259.post-1137308846055561202006-01-15T12:33:00.000+05:302006-01-15T12:37:26.066+05:30L'affaireEvery morn I wakeand in herI scentyou: hazel eyes, for we didn't meet to trade names in the car I'd driven in circles, at Skin Avenue, before I drove, in circles, through you;and I thinkto myselfthat, from now on,I should takethe bus backhome.Rohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07885041172692414578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7342259.post-1136122449044350272006-01-01T19:02:00.000+05:302006-01-01T19:04:09.066+05:302005 - A Year in Review Part IFloods hit major cities of India. Bombay receives over 900 mm of rain in a single day. Politicians, in an unprecedented act, start using the word ‘unprecedented’. Chennai bears the brunt of major cyclones and in a major act of charity; Chief Minister Jayalalitha donates most of her wardrobe and is able to clothe women of Tamil Nadu single-handedly.Hurricane Katrina strikes the U.S of A. PresidentRohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07885041172692414578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7342259.post-1135361391394683842005-12-23T23:27:00.000+05:302005-12-23T23:40:52.850+05:30VentureThere are many things that I notice but would rather not admit to.For example, in the boys’ room, guys have to stare down stone-faced while peeing. I don’t know why but that’s how it is. I think, at some level, guys are still in shock that they have something as wonderful as a penis. So they are afraid it may fall and flow down the yellow river which makes them hold on to it like a jockey in theRohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07885041172692414578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7342259.post-1131026012068893062005-11-03T19:20:00.000+05:302005-11-03T19:24:01.726+05:30Of Boys And GamesI'll update the blog as soon as I'm done with exams like CAT, IIFT etc. In the meantime, I've started another blog, a cricket-centric one, which can be found at:India On My MindTill December, friends!Rohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07885041172692414578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7342259.post-1128155473133851702005-10-01T14:00:00.000+05:302005-10-01T14:01:13.140+05:30In New Light“Doesn’t the grass look strange?” Ma asked from her wheelchair. She always did that. She would ask me about the strange grass and then keep quiet. Today was no different. But I kept looking. There I was, looking at the grass in the garden. The garden was full of it so no matter where I looked, I had grass in my eyes.“Which grass, Ma?” I asked, as it was the norm. She would stare but she wouldn’t Rohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07885041172692414578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7342259.post-1127872001454794392005-09-28T07:14:00.000+05:302005-09-28T07:16:41.460+05:30The Great Indian Laughter ChampionsI have no idea why we needed to have a talent search for a laughter champion when we have the BCCI championing the cause.Whenever the BBCI want to get something done, be it telecast rights or the right to cast, it seems to end up in the legal domain. I’ve heard rumors of the SC setting up a hotline with the BCCI so that the matters could be fast-tracked. The SC is also thinking of testing their Rohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07885041172692414578noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7342259.post-1127749723774808162005-09-26T21:17:00.000+05:302005-09-26T21:44:08.040+05:30Hair today, hair tomorrowIn India, people say 'Bacche bahgwan ke roop hote hain' (kids are like God)In Japan, people say 'Bacche shaitan ke rrop hote hain' (yadi yadi yada Devil)Why do I say that? Read on. Even if you don't want to know why, read on.If movies like ‘Ringu’ and ‘Ju-on: The Grudge’ are any indications of Japanese culture, I would have to say that they hate kids and love long hair.Both the movies have kids Rohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07885041172692414578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7342259.post-1127647961419829922005-09-25T17:01:00.000+05:302005-09-26T09:33:27.620+05:30The Chatter Of BloodMy blood talks.Yes, it does.It talks when hungry. It gets hungry often. The feeling is surreal at first. It whispers then. But when it talks, it's like bugs.Yes, bugs.It gnaws at my skin with sharp teeth. It’s got that rhythm. I want to touch it, curse it, scratch it. Talk to it.So when it gets hungry, I talk to it. More so, my nails talk to it. It's talking now. Because of her. I curse her.Yes, Rohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07885041172692414578noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7342259.post-1126958422643951672005-09-17T17:29:00.000+05:302005-09-17T17:30:22.643+05:30Running“Two minutes and forty," his coach said. The boy was busy breathing so he said nothing.“Two minutes and forty,” the coach said again. He handed the boy a towel and a drink.“Is it good?” the boy asked, wiping away the sweat.“It’s fast.”The boy drank.~*~*~*~*~“I don’t want custody,” his mother said. The boy was going to bed when he heard this.“So you'll dump him on me?”“If you'd been smart in the Rohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07885041172692414578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7342259.post-1126958360462332542005-09-17T17:27:00.000+05:302005-09-17T17:29:20.470+05:30Lipstick BoyJared was lying on the picnic sheet, which was replete with stains of the past. There was a gentle breeze blowing across the ocean, spraying grains of sand over his wrinkled but tanned body. The wind tousled his ginger-red hair, strands of which stuck to his forehead while a few fell over the sunglasses. Others felt that Jared was fast asleep but only a few knew that sleep didn’t come easily to Rohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07885041172692414578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7342259.post-1125922672642210762005-09-05T17:44:00.000+05:302005-09-05T17:47:52.730+05:30ExcursionsSome of my recent posts are being sent out to various publications. Hence the lack of updates.I'll keep you guys updated.Rohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07885041172692414578noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7342259.post-1124983106581305612005-08-25T20:46:00.000+05:302005-08-25T20:51:04.276+05:30Batting For Paradise"Are you ready?" asked Leo as he stowed away the baseball bat into his bag. His eyes, which were startlingly blue and flecked with green, remained hidden under the cap. It is often said that the eyes are the windows to the soul, and with Leo, it was quite true. Which is why I was so afraid of looking into his eyes right now. Moments before, a complete stranger had stared back at me through those Rohithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07885041172692414578noreply@blogger.com0