Why I hate Relativity. And the Beastly Beauty.

1) Damn my mind for not being able see the Absolute

The other day, Luthra and me had gone to a snooker parlour to catch a game or two. All the tables were taken up and since we weren't too keen on waiting, we agreed to join others. The dashing gambler that Luthra is and the egoistic, arrogant prick that I am, we individually agreed to the challenges posed by our respective opponents (who we realised by then were bloody good at the game) with monetory stakes.

Luthra lost by the margin of a few points, but gained the respect of his opponent.

Although the following account might suggest othewise, I am not too bad a player (courtesy of the fascination with the game during my 11th and 12th standard). Here was my opponent who seemed like snooker was the only reason for his existence and here was I, having not played the game for quite some time and it being my first time to that particular parlour and therefore that particular table(for those, who aren't very accustomed to the game, note that prior playing on a table gives a slight advantage).

I wish I could write that I fought the good fight and emerged victorious against all odds. But sadly that wasn't the case. I was losing by 50 odd points with the last 3 coloured balls to be potted. Like one of those losers who try to salvage whatever little they can, I thought to myself that I should keep the margin under 50. And in the end, I lost by 32. It wasn't as bad as losing by 70 points, but 32 is pathetic enough.

And disgustingly, I was happy.

I had a gleeful smirk on my face, although I had just got embarassingly outplayed and my wallet was a couple of hundred bucks lighter.

Fuckin relativity.

2) The Beauty and The Beauty

Beauty, 'they' say, lies in the eyes of the beholder. ['They' incude the self-important dorks who make such well-sounding (but totally retarded) statements and the 'dull' people who quote them to validate their opinion. I shall be quite 'dull' myself here and do the same. I will show the applicability of this proverb in a certain personal context and then generalize it as a universal truth].

Adolf, to Udayan and me is the most beautiful thing ever. There is nothing which is even comparable. But that is not exactly the opinion anyone who has had the 'privilege' of laying their eyes on him have . In fact, it would be the exact opposite. It scares the day lights out of everyone and we are quite confident that certain people, when in close proximity to him would actually faint. The sadists that we are, we plan to test our presumptions.

Adolf, by the way is Udayan's rotweiller. I am Adolf's godfather (I christened him). I had left him as a 4 month old 'puppy' (I am using the word 'puppy' out of lack of other words. He was quite a beast even back then.) only to find him become a fearsome monster 5 months later. It has been around a couple of weeks since I have been around and I am still skeptical of 'fooling around' with him. For everytime, he has the chance, he ravages me. His ramming with brute force, pricking of my feet and gnawing at my arms (fortunately, he still doesn't know how to bite forcefully) could be construed as friendly playfulness or ruthless hatred. I like to believe that it is the former. And actually hope as well.

All in all, Adolf is frightening (there are few sights scarier than that of Adolf in the dark with his glowing eyes), destructive (the broken windows in the house are a testament of that) and untamable (he is not taken for a walk, he takes the holder of the leash on an unpleasant ride).

But then, he is the most beautiful thing ever.

Anyway, whatever.

Beyond the scope...

The first sentence of any post of my blog is the only one which needs some thought. The rest of the post writes itself. The reason I am mentioning this is to escape even that minor inconvenience.

Now that that has been taken care of, I can now move onto other things. What other things? I can’t think of any other things. I am at my ordinary best these days. So what the heck? I will just fill this post by mentioning the awfully uninteresting events and things in my rather boring life over the past few days.

29/7/09 and 30/7/09: The return flight from UK to India.

I just can’t get myself to sleep on a flight. And add to it an annoying co-passenger sitting beside you, the TV screen in front of you not working and having a 4 hour transit stop. Can you script a more perfect disaster?

31/7/09 and 1/8/09: Can’t remember.

I would most probably have been glorifying the Queen’s country and rubbishing my very own (UK is so clean, India is so crowded and other idiotic statements like that). How I wish someone just punched me in the face during this time!

2/8/09 and 3/8/09: I re..re..re..really love gaming [Ladha style].

There are few things more beautiful than FIFA 09 on the X-Box 360. With updated summer transfers, my beloved Juventus FC team looked strong on paper (or should I say, screen) and I went wild with all my crazy formations.

4/8/09 and 5/8/09: Things getting back to being exactly as they were always.

My criticism of my mom’s cooking, haunting coffee shops, obsessive following of football news, rubbishing everything and everyone under the sun. I even performed my routine ritual of torturing myself (which is watching a Telugu movie). [Telugu is the funny-sounding language, I speak at home].

6/8/09 and 7/8/09: Something else and the gentleman’s game

It’s been quite some time since I played cricket, but as always I came across as someone who has a good batting technique. I typically achieve this by tapping the bat on the ground and playing classy, imaginary shots in the air after every ball

8/8/09 and 9/8/09: A visit to the zoo and something else

The reasons for us going to the zoo are beyond the scope of this blog. Anyway, the sloth bear did gross injustice to its name by running around like a maniac in its enclosure. I was disappointed. The hippo was absolutely delightful, though. The next day was the 9^th of August 2009.

10/8/09 and 11/8/09: qwertyuiopasdfghjklzxcvbnm

Posters of 'The Godfather', debates over and about ice creams, bitching about my engineering college were the common themes. A few words about the mundane things like life and future might have figured in the discussions, but were promptly discarded and forgotten.

Oh, boy! I am disgusting myself now with all this rubbish. And so I shall put an end to this.

Anyway, whatever.

Before I forget, I just want to mention unlike what some might suspect, Ta Da is not a stylised form of Ta Ta (which means bye). What Ta Da means is beyond the scope of the reader.