Tuesday, December 07, 2004

Aged Father Day

Happy birthday Papa! Papa turns a year-older-than-the-age-of-mother-that-shall-not-be-mentioned today. He's taken today to prove a point that he still is, in fact, the nuttiest Khanna of them all, and promises to buy himself a Motorcycle. Mother, Bua and I cringe at the thought of father riding around town on a bike, putting life and limb in danger. But, such is the nature of things. I got papa a double CD collection of what were most of his favourite Guru Dutt songs, and he was much pleased.

On Slams

Like I said, I've got a lot of these things to fill up, and quite frankly, I have no idea how to do so. The first problem is that I can't write properly, so I've decided to fill in the slam sheets into my Now Working Printer, and do it the old fashioned way, print em out. Typing is far easier than writing, in my humble opinion, which explains why there is an average sized book now available in almost a year of Blah!

Priya March

Our school has imposed upon us a pre-preboard test series, which in theory is "compulsory". Well, lets see about that ,shall we. I think its unrealistic to expect us to give tests for which we are hazaar unprepared, at short notice of course and revision, when our very year is winding down. To top it all off, they're going to shove us into the sports complex on the last day. Hrrmph. Well, I think I'll give the test-before-last, and scoot off for a movie post-exam.
Now, there used to be this grand dam ol' tradition in our school called "The Priya March", which involved the passing out batch going in mass for a movie to Priya. Now, when any batch does things en masse, things tend to get a bit rowdy, and Priya March quickly became an expression of general discontent at the end of 12 years of schooling, much to the dread of poor Vasant Lok Shopkeepers, and Madam Principal. The marching bit was removed completely, and last I heard they used trucks as means of transport to Priya.
However, this I firmly believe was not the spirit of the thing. The spirit of the thing is to celebrate your last ever day with your entire batch, and bloody well see a movie before you spend the next 3 months jailed at home, studying for preboards, competition exams, and what not else.
Thus, accompained or not, on the last test day, I'm Marching to Priya, not in a big ol' truck, but on my two feet, and I damn well will watch a movie. Anybody who feels like joining me is free to, just remember to pay fer yer own ticket. Additionally, I will be "marching", so kindly remember to be like fox, and speak only of this great plan "Chor Nazar Se!"


There's a new Punjabi Rock/folk artist on the block, and unlike loud blaring Bhangra, this is very good stuff. The artist is Rabbi, and he's come out with a single entitled "Bulla Ki Jana", with a nice acoustic guitar interpretation of a sufi poem by Baba Bulleh Shah(more "soulfull" versions of which Ma listens to, by a Sufiana Artist named Abida Parveen.) It's a great single, in my opinion, and is already picking up on the charts. The singer, Rabbi, has a great voice, and the guitar chords are simple, yet poignant. It's one of the few things I've heard on TV and had an instant desire to download, and so I did. It's apparently availible for free, legit, on a site which I shall not reveal as yet. Anyhow, it's now hitched onto my Pod, so all is good.


After my flashback this weekend, I dug up my story "The Cookie Told me So", and reread it. While the idea is brilliant, it's clearly written by a child in class 10. Now, I'd love to edit it, so I will. There are a few dialogues that need tightning, a few phrases that need fixing, but all in all, I still think its a great story. The ending still gets me.
Ho hum. Seventy Two hours.

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