Contrary to what it seems like, the pigeon is not my favourite bird. I was gleefully fascinated by its ways in Europe and more particularly so in London, but that wasn't enough for usurping the top position which was, is and will always be occupied by the crow (the common raven). So, there wasn't an iota of doubt as to what I would name the second beast in my life (the first one being Adolf).
'IL CORVO'
Well, getting it wasn't exactly the easiest of things. If there was one thing, my mom would never let me have, it was this. Convincing her that I wasn't going to get killed by the 'monster' was awfully difficult and is arguably my greatest achievement ever. It is amazing what time and pressure can do. And a whole lot of cribbing, of course. This entire episode has given me so much confidence that I now feel that I can even convince the British to stop employing the word 'royal'. (I would never do that, of course. All I am saying is that, I beleive I could do so, if i wanted to).
Everyone I have spoken to regarding it, have tried to reason with me and appeal to my rationality. And when I didn't change my stance, the conversations typically ended with me being labelled, senseless and/or crazy. (A certain few were too polite and called me brave instead). If there ever was one thing for which I was unwilling to listen to absolutely anyone, it was this. Like they say, I was as 'obstinate as a mule'.
Taking a slightly different approach, Praveen made me feel inadequate to have the 'monster'. He said, one had to be bulky, wear white 'khaddar' clothes and be adorned with thick gold chains, bracelets and the like to deserve it. I appreciated his humour, but there was no way, I was appreciating his point of view.
So, as I paced around in the hall restlessly, the phone rang and this time it wasn't a friend who just called up to say 'What's up?'. As I went down the lift, all the trouble I had gone through over the past few weeks to have it, flashed in my mind. The endless hours of dreaming, arguing, defending, selling and convincing had finally borne fruit and here was I asking myself,
'IS IT WORTH IT?'.
At 21:01 on the 24th of September 2009, I laid my eyes on it for the first time. It was darker than the night. As deadly as sin. Royal and regal.
I brought it to life. 'Thump..Thump..Thump..Thump..Thump..'
TOTALLY.
Anyway, whatever.
I usually end my posts with the 'Anyway, whatever' or ta da (or some other version of it). Since the 'Anyway, whatever' is done with, the reader can put himself or herself out of his or her misery at this point, by navigating away from this post and doing something else or something better. (Anything would be better than reading this rubbish, so essentially there is no difference between 'something else' and 'something better').
But in case, you have read up to this point, you might as well read the next few sentences and waste a little more of your time.
As a certain someone asked me, "Why did you get a bike? You don't even know how to ride it?".
I replied,
" It doesn't matter that I don't know how to ride.
And for the sake of everything under the sun, it is not a bike.
It is a motorcycle. It is a Bullet. It is a Royal Enfield Bullet Electra 5S.
It is. My 'IL CORVO'. "
Saturday 26 September 2009
Friday 11 September 2009
Anything and Everything under the Sun
The following conversation, (which took place at a devilish time of half past 7 in the morning the other day) has been replicated (as much as possible) as it actually panned out. Minor alterations may have been made, taking the sensitivity of the readers into account.
Index
*.......* : Action
#........# : Comment
Udayan: Wake up, you bastard!
Me: Huh!
Udayan: *Whacks me with a pillow.*
Me: Mother fucker!
Udayan: Wake up. How much time will you sleep for?
Me: Dude, I just slept for like 8 fuckin hours. And I got up a couple of times in between.
Udayan: Fuck you! You sleep like a pig everyday and then you crib.
#We associate pig with gluttony, greed, sloth and every other vice, since it is convenient#
Me: Fuck you! *Wakes up with a groan and curses everything under the sun.*
.........................
.........................
Udayan: Dude, I was just wondering as to why people celebrate birthdays.
Me: #Comment deleted due to its inappropriateness.#
Udayan: I mean, with every passing year one only gets closer to death। So the birthday isn't
actually an occasion to celebrate.
# A brief note on the author at this point would help the reader better appreciate the rest of the conversation. I have an annoying habit of countering opinions (and sometimes even plain facts), just for the heck of it. The low general awareness necessitates me to come up with unconventional (or ridiculous, according to most people I know) arguments all the time.#
Me: Screw the ‘celebrations’ part. But well, I am not too sure about the ‘getting closer to dying with every birthday’ part.
Udayan: What are you blabbering? Let’s say one has a life time of 70 years. Isn’t he closer to 70 when he is 40 than when he is when he is 39.
Me: Dude, but it is not decided beforehand as to how long one is going to live.
#I don’t believe in destiny, fate and other gay stuff like that.#
Udayan: Let us not get into whether it is pre-decided or not. Irrespective of everything, one is nearing the end as time passes.
Me: Not necessarily. Doesn’t the passing of every year alter one’s chances of further survival?Isn’t the time one has survived till date a factor which influences how much longer he would live for?
Udayan: Dude, cut the crap. *Shakes his head in disgust.*
Me: The probility of one living till the age of 70 when he is 40 is different from the probability of his living till the age of 70 when he is 39. The fact that he survived for another year should increase his chances of living till 70.
#The usage of the word ‘probability’ elicited laughter from both parties as we reminisced the idiosyncrasies of that wierdly strange professor who lectured us on probability during our 11th and 12th standard years.#
Udayan: I will slit your throat open right now and then we will see how probability works.
Me: Whatever. Fuck you!
Udayan: Fuck you! *Goes to the wash room.*
Me: *Lies down on the bed again and curses everything under the sun.*
The following are certain things I wanted to report:
1) Luthra is on a roll in snooker. He recently thrashed my opponent (who, if you remember from the earlier post, thrashed me) by a margin of 40 odd points with 3 balls remaining. This makes me look even worse. Bloody relativity.
2) Keshav is carrying 4 mobile phones with him these days. When I asked him, ‘But, why?’, he replied that using 4 phones would give him expertise in multitasking. I shall refrain from commenting on this.
3) And finally and most importantly, Atul ‘I-don’t-give-a-fuck-for-anything-under-the-sun’ Jain has secured arguably the best internship of the MDI PGPIM 08 batch. His status message on Google Talk now reads as ‘CITI NEVER SLEEPS’. Killer!
Anyway, whatever.
Index
*.......* : Action
#........# : Comment
Udayan: Wake up, you bastard!
Me: Huh!
Udayan: *Whacks me with a pillow.*
Me: Mother fucker!
Udayan: Wake up. How much time will you sleep for?
Me: Dude, I just slept for like 8 fuckin hours. And I got up a couple of times in between.
Udayan: Fuck you! You sleep like a pig everyday and then you crib.
#We associate pig with gluttony, greed, sloth and every other vice, since it is convenient#
Me: Fuck you! *Wakes up with a groan and curses everything under the sun.*
.........................
.........................
Udayan: Dude, I was just wondering as to why people celebrate birthdays.
Me: #Comment deleted due to its inappropriateness.#
Udayan: I mean, with every passing year one only gets closer to death। So the birthday isn't
actually an occasion to celebrate.
# A brief note on the author at this point would help the reader better appreciate the rest of the conversation. I have an annoying habit of countering opinions (and sometimes even plain facts), just for the heck of it. The low general awareness necessitates me to come up with unconventional (or ridiculous, according to most people I know) arguments all the time.#
Me: Screw the ‘celebrations’ part. But well, I am not too sure about the ‘getting closer to dying with every birthday’ part.
Udayan: What are you blabbering? Let’s say one has a life time of 70 years. Isn’t he closer to 70 when he is 40 than when he is when he is 39.
Me: Dude, but it is not decided beforehand as to how long one is going to live.
#I don’t believe in destiny, fate and other gay stuff like that.#
Udayan: Let us not get into whether it is pre-decided or not. Irrespective of everything, one is nearing the end as time passes.
Me: Not necessarily. Doesn’t the passing of every year alter one’s chances of further survival?Isn’t the time one has survived till date a factor which influences how much longer he would live for?
Udayan: Dude, cut the crap. *Shakes his head in disgust.*
Me: The probility of one living till the age of 70 when he is 40 is different from the probability of his living till the age of 70 when he is 39. The fact that he survived for another year should increase his chances of living till 70.
#The usage of the word ‘probability’ elicited laughter from both parties as we reminisced the idiosyncrasies of that wierdly strange professor who lectured us on probability during our 11th and 12th standard years.#
Udayan: I will slit your throat open right now and then we will see how probability works.
Me: Whatever. Fuck you!
Udayan: Fuck you! *Goes to the wash room.*
Me: *Lies down on the bed again and curses everything under the sun.*
The following are certain things I wanted to report:
1) Luthra is on a roll in snooker. He recently thrashed my opponent (who, if you remember from the earlier post, thrashed me) by a margin of 40 odd points with 3 balls remaining. This makes me look even worse. Bloody relativity.
2) Keshav is carrying 4 mobile phones with him these days. When I asked him, ‘But, why?’, he replied that using 4 phones would give him expertise in multitasking. I shall refrain from commenting on this.
3) And finally and most importantly, Atul ‘I-don’t-give-a-fuck-for-anything-under-the-sun’ Jain has secured arguably the best internship of the MDI PGPIM 08 batch. His status message on Google Talk now reads as ‘CITI NEVER SLEEPS’. Killer!
Anyway, whatever.
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