Skirting the Issue

F Block is a place full of mysteries and surprises. The mechanics of fitting over 1000 students in it, for instance. Or the Som Vihar Woman, who flashes to observers in F Block classes that face that way.
See, its been windy a lot the past two three mornings, and this has allowed us to experience another one of the great wonders of F Block.

See, there are very long corridors in F Block, and long balconies for entry of wind. Now, once wind enters, it sort of forms a vortex inside the block, and circulates. Doors magically shut and open, exhaust fans move of their own accord, and here's the real mystical thing, the wind decides to swirl and blows from bottom to top.
If you haven't figured out what this leads to, its quite simple. Skirts billow up, all of their own accord, and without prior warning of a gust of wind.
Now, this can either be a good thing, or a bad thing, depending on obvious factors. But what one now observes is the tendancies of MOTOS to walk around grabbing the hems of the skirts in F Block Premises.

Strangely enough, my father claims similiar things happened in his old school, TAFS, and happen in several other schools as well.
It leads one to question, were they designed this way?
Ah, well, some things will never be answered.

Demons of the Past

This is supposed to be a free access site, where anyone can say or do what they like, but there's a limit.
See, there's a constant spammer, a Mr./Ms/Shiramite Jamaican Doodh, who, while intensely dislikes reading my blog, chooses quite freely to comment upon it.
See, if you don't like it, don't read it, or offer some constructive criticism to make it better.
Uff, the advice is pointless, really. One would have thought that 10 years of experience would have taught me better.

So I went and blocked the Range of IP adress's that Jamiacan Doodh was posting on. If indentity of the above is indeed, one Stuti Gujral, head girl of the above mentioned institution, gawd bless em all.

So, as a kind request, if you're from TSRS, and your name is not Vinay Eapen, kindly fugg off my blog. I really have a problem with the pointless profanity.

It ends

Finally, after a more than a month, the work on our house has finally come to an end today.

Upstairs was pure hell, as we didn't have the benefit of shifting out. In the ensuing chaos, as I have pointed out earlier, many important things got lost, and quite frankly, the fortune of DPS at competitions has been drastically changed as a result.

Added to this ignominity(what a nice word) was the complications that arose from having Colorblind Painters.

Now, workmen in India are generally incompetent. They're lazy, never follow schedule, and always end up wanting more money than they settled on in the first place. But they generally have a vague conception of what they're doing. Now, being colorblind is one of those things that painters simply should not be. It goes against their fundament, their purpose, but such was life.

Green turned into off-white, Brown into off-white, and if they weren't stopped, my room would probably have been a distinct shade of Mauve. If anyone knows what Mauve is, please feel free to point it out to the painters.

Well, anyhoo, many rooms actually had to be painted twice over, and the shade of green my mother actually wanted for her room, is in the hallways, which, of course, are off-white.

Squall

Delhi has been experiencing one of the usual summer items, namely Squalls, over the past few days.
Now, squalls come of many kinds, but here's the general outline.
There's a really really hot day and afternoon, the mercury must go above 40 degrees. As the afternoon progresses, all of a sudden, a quick wind starts beating up. In a matter of minutes, the sky goes dark, as clouds and haze magically appear from nowhere. From this point, a squall can go anywhere. Ususally what happens is that a hell of a lot of dust starts getting blown around at insane speeds. The sky turns brown with it, and unsuspecting Delhiites rush to board up their windows and doors. The temprature cools down a lot, for a short period of time. Going out is insanity, as it would involve getting a kiloton of dirt shoved into your face, eyes, and if you happen to be wearing those low-riding butt showing jeans, your ass as well.

The second kind of squall is what we've had over the last couple of days. Occasionally, there's enough moisture in the air for rainclouds to form. Then what happens is, the wind blows them into shape. The wind keeps at it, and all of a sudden, without prior warning, it begins to rain.

Now the rain is brilliant. Its a god-holy shower, not a light drizzle, and it only lasts for a maximum of an hour, so you have to get out immediately for all the raindancing that one should indulge in. Also, there is the whole squall breeze blowing, which sprays the rain around a good bit.

And they say Delhi has terrible summers. What rot. You just have to know how to enjoy them.

Blah!

I went to springdales for a declamation contest today, along with Madam Vrinda (Marwah). Both of us spoke quite terribly, and as a result, and quite a first after long time for both of us, won NOTHING. I'm not taking this well at all, and am extremely pissed with myself.

Added to that, the Pen is lost, in the same jhamaal of disorder that lost my Badge, and has had my house in dissaray for way too long now. Its really starting to get me down, by mars and Juno.

I recently, in a fit on inspiration(Thank god I can still write fine without the pen) wrote DPS's first fairy tale, the story of Little Red Riding Sash.
The Word Document is availible for download, just hit the links.

New Policy Descion, for all future comps, I take along a towel.

Happy Birthday Sonali!

Sonali (Bhasin) turns Sweet Sixteen today. Here's wishing her a wunnerful year ahead.

Law of Socks

After years of experimentation, and research, I have found that socks are polygamous by nature. Thus says the law of socks.

A sock will tend to repel its pair till it has attained the maximum distance from the pair as possible. Furthermore, this lone sock will attract as many more lone socks as possible, forming a large collection of socks.

Learning from this law, I have got myself all new socks, all the same color and type, so that there's no escape for any of them. They have to end up with something that looks like them.

Call it genetic in-breeding.

Outsourcing

There's a lot of bruhahaha about outsourcing, how its good, or evil, or just plain unimporant. A lot of Indian's get their jobs doing outsourcing, i.e doing someone elses work for them, and getting paid for it. I think I should start getting in on this, because the way I see it, I'm DPS's biggest outsourcing set-up.

Exun, of course, will beg to disagree. They claim they outsource the most, but honestly, thats not outsourcing. Thats a job. Thats just taking printouts for anyone and everyone. Lets take a look at real outsourcing.

Firstly, my Job is President, Debating Society. In that capacity, I'm supposed to handle all that comes my way.
Next, I'm outsourced to Quiz Club, for making questions, and probably soon for quizmastering later on.
Exun wishes to outsource me for Quizzing, and Extempore Speaking at one of their events. Additionaly, I'm "stupid guy" consultant for one of their projects, to ensure even a fool like me can use it.
In weeks gone past, Madam Head Girl, and this means high beaurocracy, wished to outsource writing her speech for the investiture, cos she was too busy dealing with Compost(I kid you not), so guess who got that job too?
Later that week, Student's council outsourced me to help write and polish a debate, for a competition.

So there we go, and here I am. Taking your jobs, and stealing your women.

Disorder

First of all, and in behalf of everyone everywhere, WOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Congratulations, to eleven men, who've finally one a test series out of India. And just to make up for all the time, they won it against Pakistan. Feel Good doesn't exist? Bullshit.

Well, back to the point. Or something resembling a point.

My house is in disorder. Painting is being done, its its terrible. The damn smell permeades the house, and my nose, and I've got an awful cough and sneeze. What is worse is that my room is currently being done. This means my bed and desk is now in the living room(ex-dining room, ex-table tennis table room), my wadrobe is in my brother's room, and of course, my bathroom remains where it was. This means that I'm going to have to migrate from place to place very often. Blah!

One seemingly plus point is that in the ensuing chaos, my disgusting embroidered badge has gone missing. This is seemingly good, as in the long run it simply means that I'm going to get one hell of a yelling, and of course, I'll probably have to pay for a new one, unless it turns up. Ah, well, such is life.

If pro is the opposite of con, is progress the opposite of congress?

Happy Happy Joy Joy goes Fourth!

Appetite for Destruction

I've been very upset the last month and a half. I've been down and bruised, because the love of my life deserted me, and left a gaping hole in my soul.

But thats all right now. Because yesterday my love returned. That gaping hole, it got filled. The source of my discontent ended, and to cut a long story short, I got my my appetite back!

This basically means my stomach ailments are cured. This basically means that I'm back to eating copious amounts of basically anything, because, I'm again Always Hungry.

This makes me supremely, supremely happy. In fact, I'm bouncing again, and have been doing so since yesterday. Little Red Riding Sash, in fact, claimed to hear me smile.

:-D

Dogmatix would have loved it

Now, sometime yesterday, outside my Maasi's house, there was this tree that was getting in the way of some odd thing, and it was decided, in good form, to cut down the offending fauna.

Now came into effect on of the newer, better, sensible laws that our government has passed. The police was called, you see, and they almost arrested my Maasi's servant for attempting to chop down the thing.

See, here's the thing. There is a law in Delhi that prohibits civilians from cutting down trees. It is now actually a criminal offence to chop down a tree in the city, and you can be arrested for doing so. There is, apparently, quite a hefty fine for doing the above.

The correct procedure, by the way, if you really have a decent and valid reason for getting rid of a tree, is to call the horticultural department, and they send someone over to do it for you, and of course, make a note so that they can replace the tree lost with three more planted.

Now, I don't often applaud the efforts of the Gorement of India, (Or Delhi, as the case may be, I'm not sure if its a center or state law), but credit must go where credit is due. This is a brilliant act, that will help preserve our city, and ensure it doesn't turn into one big dustbowl. See, its allright for a coastal city, like Mumbai to go all concrete jungle, cos they have this lovely breeze that will blow everything away. But if you're sitting on the edge of the Thar Desert, and you've blown the Aravalli's to bits, the least you can do is keep some tree cover to save yourself. And they've not lost sight of that. So everyone, all together now, Three Cheers for Gorement.

Hip, hip, Hurray.

Flower Power

On Thursday, I was present at Karan's birthday do, the pictures of which are being widely publicised. Let me take a bit of credit, I was the cameraman for the most of them, after it was found out the Maanick can't take a snap to save his life.

On this blessed day, I had the fortune to meet the much heard about Flower Girl. Now, this poor girl had in it for herself. It was total "And as I walk through the valley of death, I shall fear no evil" type of thing she was facing. We WERE going to tease her. We were going to make it difficult. But the good lady was up to the challenge. She handled what was a quite horrific situation for her quite well. And I have to say. I was very very impressed.

Thus, I would like to ask everyone to lay off Karan and Flower Girl from now on. So it has been written, so it shall be done.

Otherwise, its BaDong justice for the lot of you.

Happy Birthday Karan

Our Alpha Geek turns Seventeen today. He's one year short of becoming a productive member of society.

Till then, he'll have to be content with taking printouts.

Here's looking at you, kid.

Peptic!

After a long time procrastinating, and trying every home/dietary/funny-feng-shui type-things cure, after yet another stomach attack, I today decided to call in sick, and go to the Doc.

The Doc in question was Doctor Ajay Bhalla, Gastroentrologist. After a decent amount of questioning, and then limited amount of stomach prodding, he reached the following conclusions.

Diagnosis

A classic case of Peptic Ulcers, every single symptom, in fact, pointing to it.

The Bad News

I have to have three pills every day. I hate pills. I'm also not allowed anything chilly, and have to eat "bland food". My stomach itself is in a woozy state, and doesn't feel all that good. I also can't lie down for two hours after eating, and considering that, as you will see, I will be eating pretty much all the time, I'm going to get no rest.

The Good News

The Doc prescribed having Five, I kid you not, Five meals a day. Breakfast, mid-day snack, lunch, mid-evening snack, and dinner. Also, the good Doc says that I'll be cured in 7 days, and can then return to my regular eating life, or come back to him for an endoscopy(where I suspect a long thin camera tube will be shoved down my thoat, not too keen on that, I'm not.