Freud would have had a field day

Samplers from my Business Government and Society Class, Presentation day

From a group presenting on the externalities created by Clubs (particular reference to Zouk) in Singapore.
On the slide: Excessive consummation of alcohol leading to drunken driving or alcholism

I pointed out the typo, and explained that consummation may mean that you want to have sex with alchohol.
The sharp and witty reply from presenting female: "We're just showing you alcohol in a whole new perspective!"

Yes, dear. A very disturbing perspective. What you do with bottles of Tiger Beer in your personal time, I'd rather not conjecture...

Wake me up

When March ends.

Work, grades, bad health, mood swings, stupidity, no time, good times, bad times, confusion, deadlines, debates, die orredy.

Ever just wanted a month to end?

Just a week to go.

Twenty First Of March

A year ago was a day of perfection, one I promised myself I'd return to and write. Today, by no standards matches it, but pleasant beyond measure nonetheless. Two years ago, this blog became Blah! A year to this day, I finished a major chunk of my life. There were hailstorms to mark the event.
I just read the post a year ago. It was indeed a day of perfection, but many more have followed after. It's been a wonderful year, a very taxing year, but wonderful nonetheless. I've never had such extremes of emotion, of experience in my life. Not that it's been a very long life, but each passing year seems richer in wealth and experience.

I dissapeared for a while, I've been insanely busy. Week 10 and 11 aren't kind to you in SMU, and week 12 only marginally less so. But it matters little. Today is a day of remembrance, an important anniversary if you will.

What happened today? A few things. It was the last day of training at debating. I got mail, I now have The Visa Power(Now you go get it) in debit card form. I can, effectively, purchase things online. Not for a week though, cos I have to wait for my PIN to arrive. Aside from that, nothing of any great significance. But it matters little. Its a wonderful day, and may there be many more like it.

How do I end this very disconnected post? Same as last year, I guess.

Some things are right, some things will stay the same.
You better believe it.

Dorothy Chong

Dorothy Chong is the inter-varsity debating championships, held in NTU every year. As member of Debating society, I attended the same.
With that statement of the blindly obvious out of the way, let me just say that good things, and bad things happened over the course of the tournament.

Good thing: I broke into the quarterfinals
Bad thing: I lost in the quarterfinals, in a close match with the NUS A Team.
Good thing: My speaker scores in the tournament, which help my cause for going for the Asian Union Debating Championships being held in Manila, are pretty decent.
Bad thing: I messed up a whip speech, which I shan't reconcile myself with anytime soon.
Good thing: Nur Amira bte Abdul Karim redifined the meaning of "water cooler moments".
Bad thing: Amira's new mission is to get me drunk in Phillipenes.
Good thing: Food is cheap and subsidised in NTU, which is great after being in the middle of bleddy town.
Bad thing: Getting there means spending a pretty packet on cabs, I might as well have gone out and had a fancy dinner.

Birthday Wishes

It's dearly departed Douglas Adams' birthday today. Just thought I'd mention that.

Tired. Work piles up.
Don't want to do it.
Shan't.

Why I love Debating Society

Scene: Training, prep time for debate
Motion: This House would require consent of both parents in cases of InVitro Fertilization
Side: Opposition

Ashwin: "...we're talking about men who are incapable of producing impregnable sperm"
Yogi: "Ashwin, the word is sterile"
Ashwin: "Oh, yeah"
Three of us laugh uncontrollably for five minutes
Yogi:"Impregnable means something that cannot be penentrated, why would you want to penetrate a bloody sperm?"
Ensue more laughter

Bhavya:"And here's the line for the reply speech...There was once a time when the sun never set over the British Empire, now the son will never rise in the British Empire!"

Unending pointless laughter

Needless to say, we lost the debate.
I blame it on the adjudicators. They're all a bunch of men incapable of producing impregnable sperm.

Politics and Doublespeak

IBNLive : Minority tag has to go one day: Antulay

I have never come across a finer example of doublespeak in politics than this interview with the new "Minister of Minority Affairs", and new ministry created by the UPA government.

I'm not a "chaddiwallah", and am hardly a practicing hindu, yet I was one of the few who was extremely dissapointed when BJP-NDA lost the elections a year and a half ago(The only other person who comes to mind was PC, who showed a rare political leaning, or leaning of any kind). Politics in India is sadly a choice of the lesser of two evils, and even Narendra Modi pales in comparision in screwing over minorities than when it comes to the Congress Party. And I'm not even talking about 1984 here.

Through a brilliant political strategy of constantly differentiating and dividing minorities through providing them faux incentives and benefits, such as this new ministry, reservations in institutions, and a proposal to include reservation for Muslims inside the Indian army, the congress has ensured that the whole community stays backward, segregated; and in addition, the target of right-wing Hindu Fanatics, who are given more fodder policy by policy. These two points are covered quite eloquently by Karan Thapar in the linked interview.

On the topic of lesser evils, an NDA government is again preferable to a toothless UPA, which offers a budget with no significant reforms whatsoever, and a few extra subsidies to boot. To make matters worse, it comes with a policy such as the Rural Employment Garauntee Act, that pretty much threatens to bankrupt the exchequer, while making a whole lot of Babus and politicians very rich.
It also comes in tow with a rabid Left coalition, which insists on stalling every single measure of progress that has become inevitable in a globalised India.

Sadly, the BJP has gone into hiding, and is suffering from a lack of leadership. This bodes ill, as for the next 8 years at least, we may have a Congress lead government at the helm. That also, with a quasi-member of the Nehru-Gandhi dynasty at the helm, with promise of her darling son taking over next term.
If ever there was an example of tainted-by-association, this is it.

Never Let Me Go

By Kazuo Ishiguro

The reason I picked up this book was not quite clear to me; it was by the guy who wrote the book for a film I like(Remains of the Day; I always thought Anthony Hopkins was quite great in that. And the role suited Emma Thompson- Sense and Sensibility messed up her image, I think), and the cover was attaractive. And its been one of the more thought provoking works I have read recently.

It starts off as a boarding school-like story. You always know there is Something different about the heroine,Kathy, and her friends, but it is never directly alluded to. Their lives are what you would imagine any boarders' to be, except for teeny tiny differences here and there. You know from the start that they are cloned human beings, created to donate organs for the 'normal' population. But the entire narrative is filled with such subtle emotions, such brilliant storytelling, that you can relate to them a lot. All the characters are delightful shades of grey, no good, no evil, just like the rest of us. As the book develops, you are shown how deep human prejudices run. How, in a world obsessed with scientific innovation, how little we think about the outcomes of our action- I mean, all this debate about cloning and stem cell research; and this is the first account I have read which considers what happens After. The confrontation of the protagonist with her former teacher is escpecially poignant. Of course, it is not a scientific book; it is all fiction. But the matter of fact way that he states how things are, really makes you sit up and think.

I found it to be an excellent book, not because of the story telling- which is good, but I've read better- but because, as I mentioned, it makes you sit up and think. It made me say to myself that yeah, I'd probably act against the heroines interests, too. I'd say that is as good a reason to go read this book as any: the fact that it'll take you out of your small lil world for just a teeny moment.

On Lists

On the subject of books, it is my new found goal to go through the 100-best list. Of course, the question is, which list to follow. As my friend pointed out, the Modern Library versions-both of them- seem very skewed and "cultist", to quote my friend. I think I'll stick to the Guardian's fiction list...came out a while back, but seems more comprehensive....
While on that, check out a good piece on endings.

Bush Aaya Re

Why does this not surprise me?

IITians welcoming US partnership, and JNU calling Arundhati Roy to aide in their spectacularly stupid protests.

Its what to be expected, I guess. As I candidly mentioned a couple of posts ago, things labelled Jawaharlal Nehru University don't exactly have progressive thinking written all over them. They usually have communist slogans written all over them, but that's another story.
Now, I'm no fan of Mr. Bush, and quite frankly wouldn't be endeared to live in his dear country under his benevolent rule. But trade with it? Sure! They're the biggest market in the world, and as a developing country, you've got to be stark raving mad to turn it down in terms of exports, or indeed as a source of foreign direct investment.
JNU's comarades in (h)arms, the CPIM has taken the opportunity to march out of parliament and protest the death of "India's Independant Foreign Policy", and kowtowing to the States. I love how trade beneficial to well...us is kowtowing to pressure, when the alternative is supporting a crazy deranged Mullah and his fucked up country's desire for nuclear power. But lets leave that aside. The other objection to Mr. Bush visiting, by our glorious left and they nanna munna rahi's, JNU students is that he's an oil thief and vicious dictator. I didn't hear a peep out of them when Saudi Arabia's King(read vicious dictator interested in destroying streetside hindu temples) was the Chief Guest at the Republic Day parade. That's excusable. Where's the detriment to India in protesting that. There are bigger things to target.

So welcome, Mr. Bush. Sign a couple of nuclear deals, allow back export of Indian Mangos to US, open up a few new avenues, and then kindly leave. You're not very well liked, but that's not relavent now, is it? I think Microsoft is an overbearing monopoly, but I'm still banging this out on Windows. Because it's advantageous for me to.

So sit down and shut up, JNU. Once I'm rich and decadent enough, I'll raze your campus to the ground, for the fun of it. And pay my way out of it using the wonderful legal system of your creation.
The irony, the beautiful irony.

Me vs V

I think she won, didn't really keep track.
It was, however, a very high scoring game.

PS: I know the spelling of locii is wrong. At least I know what it means.

Deranged

I'm back home, and enjoying it. This is a fun little break from University life, which sadly shall end soon. But it's nice and rejuvinating, and gives me the opportunity to pig out for a while. Sadly, I must also get down to studying, or end up failing imminent midterms. Ah, well. Such as they say, is life.

Yesterday, I watched a cricket match, well half of one at any rate, after bloody ages. India vs Pakistan no less. Basically it's the closest you can get to ODI bliss in a long way. Even though it was a dead rubber, it was one hell of a run chase. With 8 point something an over to make off the last 20 overs, I had my doubts. Sure there were wickets in hand, but the pitch seemed to be on the slower side, and runs didn't come about very easily. However, I've been away for a while, and thus have not witnessed enough innings of a certain fellow named Mahendra Singh Dhoni.
Now the first time I saw him place was this very arbit match of India A vs Kenya, in a tri-series between India A, Pakistan A and Kenya. Following that match, I saw the India A vs Pakistan A final. A common theme ran between the two matches, MS Dhoni coming in at one down, and systematically demolishing the respective bowling attacks. I heard he was a half decent keeper as well, and naturally asked why in the good graces of Gavaskar he wasn't in the playing 11, instead of a little bitty kid who seemed to drop anything that came his way and put up "Gutsy" performances which involved him not getting out for 50 balls while fast bowlers played Duck Hunt with him.
Sadly, the selectors only responded recently, and the series just before I was to depart. Since then, he's been in 35 matches, and averaged 50 odd. I've seen a very select few of those, and got another glimpse yesterday.
Well, hats out to both Dravid and most especially Yuvraj, who stuck it out and got the match into a controllable state. But when Dravid got out, and Dhoni came to the crease, you could sense something was about to happen.
You were wrong, however. Because according to the commentators, this man's strategy involves him playing the first 15 balls at a sluggish strike rate of 90 before he decides to "Go after the bowling".
When he does decide to Go After The Bowling, it is a sight to see, a sight I'm sad to say I've missed out on too often. The man is mad. Insane. Deranged. He has that Klusner/Sehwag/Jayasuriya mentality that tells you before the ball is bowled where it's going. Wherever that is, it is usually very far away. Somewhere around 20 odd runs, he decides that the asking rate is now an acceptable 7 an over, his partner Yuvraj has got an injury, and he really wants to go home. So why stick around? From an asking rate of 7, an over later is was down to 4.5. Another over later, it was down to 2. The next over, there wasn't a match left. A target of 287 had been negotiated in less than 47 overs. Because Dhoni wished it so.

I was blessed to witness some of the most audacious cricket shots I've seen in a while. The hit off Sami comes to mind, where he took him of a six over long off, from what was an attempted yorker. Yaseer arafat was taken for fourteen off an over, where he bowled three perfect reverse swining yorkers, which were unceremoniously swatted away but sadly failed to find a gap. The three other deliveries didn't have the same fortune, as they just missed the blockhole.

This man is out and out entertainment, and thankfully he'll be around a while. We're touring Windies in the summer, where I shall be around, and can't wait for him, Sehwag and Tendulkar to get stuck into what is now a very military medium West Indian pace attack.

Oh, and the food is great too. My mouth has most definitely had its fill, I've stuffed it plenty.
It's good to be home.

Airports and Hotels

Its a fact that cannot be argued that Airports are your signalling welcome to a country. The moment you land, it's the impression that's created. An airport, especially an international one, thus becomes not just an essential service for Globalisation and Trade, but also one for tourism and hospitality. This is an industry which relies very heavily on first impressions (and as a result, an industry that I under no circumstances should enter).
After the airport comes the hotel, especially if you're a nice friendly rich traveller, willing to spend money. It doesn't matter whether you're from Chicago or Chennai, if you've got the buck, you're going to want to come to a hotel that treats you well.

Now, its an interesting contrast. Landing in Singapore, you hit Changi International, which I must say is a spectacular airport. Clean, comfortable and efficient which are the three most important things in my opinion. The overemphasis on Duty Free is not what makes an airport world class, it's the speed with which you can get in and out.
On the other hand, Landing back in Delhi is quite simply a pain in the ass. However much joy I get out of being home, it only really starts to hit me once I've left the confines of Indira Gandhi International. On a side note, once it's privatised, i really hope they change the name. There's something about naming institutions after such great hallmarks of economic and social progress that runs them to the ground. If you've ever been to Jawaharlal Nehru University, you'll know what I'm on about.
Here's the contrast. As far as hotels go, five star hotels, I don't think you can find better service, hospitality and general comfort than any private hotel in India(or specifically Delhi, though I've had comfortable experiences in Chennai and Cochin as well). Singapore, Bangkok, and from what my father (who is exceptionally well travelled) much of Europe and the United States are *severely* lagging behind in this department.

I think it well establishes that given incentive, the Indian Hospitality and Service industry can clearly be a global standard. The point to note here, of course, is given incentive. I'm glad to hear that the Airports are being privatised. No, I don't really care if there's a large duty free selection when I land back in Delhi, but I would like friendly immigration services, a clean environment, faster access to my baggage and parking that works. I'd like more services, such as easy currency exchange, telephone and mobile providers and easier access to cabs in the airport too, it's something you appreciate when you land in a foreign country.
It's labour intensive, and jobs are only going to be increased, with an increase in air traffic. Which stakeholders are harmed, I'm not exactly sure.

Why am I making this point? Because day after, I'm landing back, coming home for my midterm break. I'd just love it if when I land back in a couple of years, I could look forward to more than just my bed.

Tis a Merry World

Don't let the rants of an overworked man misguide you. It is truly a wonderous, beautous world. Filled with things enough for you to laugh at, and mock, and generally enjoy. If like me, you are at home, with work almost over, and generally lazing about(haha, suckers, most of you Aren't!) you'd notice nice and ownderful things in the world around you.

Total TV

For the uninitatied, this is (yawn) another news channel that I noticed has come up in the recent past. I noticed it because it rudely displaced Zee English from my TV. I was going to angrily replace the old one, when I was held positively enthralled by the display in front of me. In the midst of the MCD demolition drive furore, when MG1was torn down, they picked on a most original story- the indescribably heartmoving plight of the Indian Fashion designers. About how the whole world neglects them and treats them not well. One of them actually made statements like "Delhi wants to be a Dubai or a HongKong. But look at Dubai. It never wanted to be a HongKong. Thats why it is the way it is". Yesterday, at primetime, 9 pm, they were showing a colony musical chairs. With middle aged ladies. Fat middle aged ladies. National News, indeed.

Valentines Day

The world and every thing else in it insists on telling me that they have the Ideal Romantic Day planned out for me. Hutch, for example, irritatingly enough calls me up and messages me incessantly, urging me to try out its Special Valentines Ringtones and CallerTunes. How, exactly, is that romantic, is anyones guess. And then All the TV channels which insist on showing sappy romantic fare. My only question to these brain surgeons is this. WHO will watch these movies on Valentines Day, when tradition calls on you to be out on a date(and if youre the unlucky one, spending quite a bit). If, on the other hand, you Are alone and home, I'm guessing cheesy movies are only going to increase your plight. Why would advertisers waste their precious money on this futile venture? But then, I guess, what I am not able to appreciate is that Love is Romantic(snigger).

In this lovely world which never ceases to remind you of how silly things can get and how much better off you are than the other idiots who are currently setting their ringtones to "Nothing Gonna Change My Love For You". And oh, did I mention, the weathers improving again? Its not bitterly cold anymore! Life, as they say, is good.

Obligatory Valentines Day Posturing

Yes, it's that time of the year again, when signs turn pink, cakes turn heart shaped and otherwise reasonable young fellows turn a bit batty. So what do I have to offer? Hope? Hell no. Solace? You wish. Valentine's day gift ideas for the more adventurous? Hell yeah! And then some. So lets go through some essential reading for the season of love.

The British have always been at the forefront of important lifesaving research, and the Beeb has brought to our notice news of great wonder and importance such as the invention of Glowing Green Pigs. They're back this Valentine's Day with an appropriate warning that Kissing Multiple Partners May Increase the Risk of Meningitis. I suspect the site got censored, because earlier this morning, I kid you not, the story read "Snogging many 'risks meningitis' ". Let this be a lesson to all those getting more action than they can handle this week.

Now, not everyone is entirely keen about the whole business, and the world is a large and welcoming place. Assuming you're not an RSS supporter, there are other saner avenues of protest. For instance you could send out (and this is my personal favourite) an Anti-Valentine's Day Card! "This year, say it with bile".

But if bile is not enough, and you really want to freak your insignificant other out, let me direct you Here, where you can find slightly more morbid means of expression.

You may ask, why the biased links? Why not link to stories of true love and happiness, of happy couples and pink joy? Well, because if you've been actively paying attention to the world for the last week, you like me have probably achieved levels severely pushing overdose. I wouldn't want to take you over the edge. So without further adieu, a few rants.

The price of Flowers in Singapore is INSANE. I'm so Glad that my opinion on flowers has not changed. I'm a firm believer that flowers are things of beauty, and beauty is very dependant on its location. To put it simply and succintly, "flowers belong in the ground", not in bouqets or cheap plastic wrapping. Sadly, many do not share my opinion. These sad buggers have to shell out $40 dollars for a bunch of 12 roses, $60 dollars if they want to send five lilies. Let me just put this into good ol' INR to put some perspective on things. That's a thousand bucks for the roses, and 1600 for the lilies. Oh, there's a 15 dollar surcharge for the delivery. And this is the university "discounted" rate. God bless em all, I tell you. If anyone at any point dares tell me that a long distance relationship is a bit of a burden on the pocket, I shall yell bloody blue murder, and point to the cost of flowers. Not that I would have sent them if I had a girlfriend here at any rate. As I may have mentioned, Flowers Belong In the Ground. This of course would have lead to what else this is the perfect time of the year for.

Breaking Up.

How you do it is critical. There are two ways, again as I may have mentioned before, to do this correctly.
First, do the needful on the 12th, or a couple of days before. Today isn't a bad idea either. The 12th is the right date. The 13th is just cruel, and gives no time for recovery before the world bombards you with messages of togetherness and cuddly babies. The 14th means you're a complete ass, and have commited to spending a lot of money on a girl/guy you're about to break up with. Which brings us very nicely to the second way.
Don't gift anything. In fact, gift pretty much everything I've been telling you to in the wonderful links I've sent. Go out of your way, and find a green glowing pig. But if you want to be really cheap, just sit on your butt and do nothing. You'll get dumped, which is brilliant. It saves you the guilt of having to break up. Simple, yet efficient.

That's about all the practical advice I have for the season. Go ahead, ignore all of it if you want.
I just might do so myself.

High

There's a good argument for legalising soft drugs like marijuana. I should know, I heard some of it in debating today.

As it happens, there's nothing illegal about what I'm high on right now, and while many will be quick to argue that it can't possibly be as potent as recreational drugs, I would beg to differ.

You can't really quantify joy or happiness, now, can you?

Besides, mine comes without the downswing, depression and side effects.

And I've always got the munchies anyhow.

What is it? Let me just call it a certain Je ne sais quoi, and leave it at that.

A Red Day

Or Three of Them

Happy Chinese New Year! Gong Xi Fa Cai! Today is the second day of a three day long Chinese New Year festival. This entire island has shut itself down, shops are closed, the streets are deserted and the march of commerce and hustle and bustle that always characterised Singapore for me just came to a halt. The natives stay at home, I am told, sit with their families and eat large quantities of food. Anyone still young enough to not be earning on their own recieve "Ang Pao", or money packets from hordes of relatives each looking to outdo each other. Basically, one is about to have a lot of very rich Chinese Singaporean Friends to pawn off, in a couple of days time.
Seeing as how shops have shut, eating places closed and even the supermarket bare to our needs for provisions there's little to do except try to have a little fun. Towards the same, I went and saw a movie yesterday, at the Jade Theatre. When you go see a hindi movie in foren, it's like being right back home. The same large Punjabi aunties, the same uncles, the same bunch of lukhas walking out of the movie saying "Behenchod, kya picture thi". Wait, that might have been us. No, it wasn't. The point still remains. For a while, the whole theatre, not just the movie, transported me back home. I shall now proceed to review it. This is my first film review in a while, for various reasons. So forgive me for being a bit rusty.

Rang De Basanti

I enjoyed this film very much. It's been shot beautifully, and although I have a few grouses with it(such as the strange and unending depiction of India Habitat Center as Delhi University) I enjoyed it a great deal. It has some simply breathtaking shots of Delhi, my home, and characters that have been well fleshed out, representing a microsm of the variety of decadent young youth you'll find back home. Some of the scenes are spectacular, and make me want to explore Delhi all over again, there's enough places I should visit again. It's a huge wonderful charming place that I call home, and the movie did serve to remind me of that.

The storyline intertwines seamlessly between present day and events starting from the Kakori Conspiracy Case. How each character starts to fit into his role, how each of them find the right words and expressions is wonderfully done, uncharacteristic of Holly or Bollywood when it comes to college crowd movies. The characters also have wonderful lines, with a familiar mix of Hindi Punjabi and English which you will come to expect in Delhi. The one liners are also taut and well written, as is the comaraderie you see between the college mates. Again, it's something you can easily identify with. Props to whoever wrote the dialogue for the film, at no instance could I fault it for being innapropriate or overly cliched. It all flowed quite naturally.
While many have panned the ending, calling it unrealistic or overdone, I found it appropriate. This is a film, after all. It relies on metaphor, not on reality. It was a part of the deux ex machina for the protagonists to go through with what they do towards the end(no spoilers here) to sync with their revolutionary counterparts 70 odd years ago, and while I did not agree of their actions, I understood their nessecity. This wasn't a film that ended telling you what they did was right or wrong, just why they did it. In the eyes of their actions, you can gain a better understanding of revolutionaries themselves. How young they were, just two three years older than I am. In that regard, the film succeeds admirably, you can easily place yourself in the protagonist's shoes.

All said and done, the ending is disturbing, and makes you think about how unnesecary it all was. But then, maybe that's just what you're supposed to think about. Who knows, I can't say for sure.
Worth a watch? Most definitely.

"What is freedom of expression? Without the freedom to offend, it ceases to exist."
Salman Rushdie

Republic Day

Being away from your own country, if you happen to identify with it, really makes you crave for identity. You suddenly feel the need to reassert yourself as an Indian, differentiate yourself as a Delhiite, and even occasionally make fun of Bengali's a little less. The point is, you miss home and suddenly realise the identity that comes along with it.
A lot of us wore Kurtas this republic day, a lot of us discussed it with our respective classes. Some event went down to the Indian Embassy to watch the unfurling of the Flag. I was in a crocin induced deep sleep, and wasn't about to get up early enough for that.
But most importantly, it has again made me think out of what I want from my country. What the republic, what the constitution mean to me. Being in Singapore gives you a great perspective, in terms of what freedoms can be denied to citizens, constitutionally or otherwise. Let me elaborate.
There's fundamentally a denial of free speech in Singapore, a right granted and enshrined to each and every Indian citizen in the constitution. Yet, it disturbs me to see parallels between status quo here, and that back home. I may be out of country, but I still read a lot of what's going on. Over the last year, cases such as Kushboo, cases as pointless as society vs Sania Mirza, cases in Meerut over the beating of couples enjoying a moment, it makes me fear. It's all the fault of this wonderful little clause in our laws, which sadly we're not capable of interpreting correctly or justly. It's called Public Indecency, and any of our rights to freedom of speech or expression can be stripped away with the justification that it's Publicly Indecent. Immoral. I question this, and I shall continue questioning this past this day. This isn't what I want a republic to be. Under free speech and individual rights, I have the right to decide what is moral and immoral for myself, I am not bound by a government's diktats, nor must I obey any societal understanding.

There's fundamentally an acceptance in Singapore that the government is in Charge of things, because that's just the way things are. Back home, we call it Mai Baap. This, however, I am happy to say I can see changing, and have seen changing over the past six seven years that I have had the will to observe it. There's less reliance on the Goremeint to bail you out of your misery, there's a greater will towards working for it yourself.

These are two grouses I have, and two parallels I see. Both point to the same thing, a Sham of a democracy in two countries, one recognised as a Sham, and one merrily playing along as the World's Largest Democratic Government. It's the same thing at the end of the day.

I love my country, and it's my duty to criticise this part of it. If this seems repetitive to a similiar entry last year, I care not. It's important that this be seen in the light it is. It's important that I continue to voice myself. Its Republic Day, and free speech is all I'm asking for.
Really free.
Feel free to comment, for once. There's no censorship on this post.

The Winter of My Discontent

Winter is horrid. Just plain horrid. Its the evil invention of someone with ridiculous plans of world domination.* You have to wear layers in winters- and if you're in Delhi, and the peak season has Already passed, you STILL have to wear layers. Which is bad, because not only do you have to coordinate your upper and lower halves, in terms of colour, along with shoes, but also your layers.(Anyone leaving a comment to the effect of Onions have layers, can go stick their head in a pig. Yes, a green glowing one). Theres the corollarical(is that a word? I doubt it) problem of nothing that looks good being warm, and vice versa. Theres the intertia of rest of staying inside a blanket, and the inability of the world to deal with that simple wish of yours. The water droplets make you feel like the Yeti, in the time gap of getting out of the shower and drying yourself. Your digits feel frigid, making it impossible to type with as much grace and elan as you would like to conjure up. Add to that the frigging problem of the bleddy temperature.

I can't wait for spring.


* The world, while being miserable and shivering with the cold, will be taken over by a well covered and/or fat dictator.

Back to Good

A week after afore decribed incidents, I'm landed on my feet again. All things that were once lost are now regained, and I wish I could make this sound more like a lord of the rings storyline, but I just lost a phone and wallet, not a ring of power or precious sword. It has however, been a harrowing experience.

From the Monday onwards, I've been running around various locations to recover very important pieces of plastic. Plastic cards have, I now realise, aquirred a large amount of significance in my life. There is my student card, without which access to SMU premises becomes difficult, nay a chore. It functions as my library card, my gym card, and as an access card to Group Study Rooms. I thank my lucky stars I didn't lose it during midterm/project submission/finals time. It was, as a result, one of my topmost priorities. The application for that dealt with, one needed to get around to getting back that which one cannot do without. Money. I needed to get a new ATM card.
At this point, I am thankful beyond belief that I study in Singapore, for this is a country where you can get an ATM card in all of five minutes from a bank. Not only that, but the service is polite, efficient, and helpful. Contrast this with the three weeks it took me to recieve my ATM/Debit card from Centurion Bank of Punjab in Delhi, and it leaves me feeling not thrilled, but generally a bit better about life. I had cash, my own cash, in my wallet nary 12 hours after afore mentioned incident.

The next major thing to be taken care of was my Student Pass, the nice little Visa that allows me to exist in this place. That required me to go to the Immigrations and Checkpoints Authority, a painful place where you must queue in line to get a queue number that allows you to queue while sitting down. I love this concept. I hate the place with a purple passion. You could ask, what Visa/Passport place could possibly be worse than the grime and heat of Bhikaji Cama Place, Delhi. Try ICA Singapore, where the Air Conditioning is kept at 10 degrees celcius, so that you freeze your privates off, and get one mother of a headache while you wait. And wait you will, because the highly efficient numberised queue is still going to take an hour and a half before it's your turn to go in. What is worse is that I had to go back again, a couple of days later, to pick the damn thing up. Yet another queue, yet another headache.

With that dealt with, I could finally purchase a new phone from my Mobile Company, M1. I am now the proud owner of a Sony Ericsson K300i. What this is supposed to mean, I'm still trying to figure out, all I know is all I had to do was pay a refundable deposit for the damn thing, and that makes me happy. Paying in effect nothing for something that has a camera, bluetooth, and a lot of other fancy mobile features is definitely not a bad thing.

That said and done, my life finally gets back to usual levels of abnormalcy. In betweeen all the brouhaha, debating restarted, assignments were finished, more flowed in, deadlines have begun, and college life, in general, has begun. Three cheers to that.

Random Thing for the Day

If you thought the Pigs were cool, check out the latest in animal antics. Cows With Guns.

The College Goer's Resolution

There comes a time in every college going youth's life where he or she realises that the laptop is a great and infinite tool for the passage of time, as TV is now a far memory. The youth then promises, after sufficient prodding, to undertake what I am about to.
I shall watch the entire IMDB top 100 before I graduate. Even the arbit foreign ones. I've watched 40 so far, got a good few more to go. But oh yes, I shall finish it.
Cheers to piracy, what.

A Series of Unfortunate Events

I would have posted this earlier, except it has been a crazy wild last four days for me. Things have been going remarkably wrong, and I've just about finished dealing with all of them. Strangely enough, this story starts off rather well.

It was Harneja's birthday on a nice lazy Sunday, and I had just finished off a decent amount of studying that had to be done for the following week. I return to hostel to find out that the plan for the birthday is a party at the Beach at East Coast Park, Singapore, complete with Pizza and Coke. In short, it was everything your teetotalling drug free college goer wants from a good night of fun. At about Nine at night, we turn up there and head off towards the beach. Now, especially if you are from a city in the middle of a bleddy subcontinent, a beach is quite a fun and novel experience for you and seldom tires. I love the sand, the smell and the general wish wash of the waves and make no bones about it. I'm sure most of the Delhi crowd shared quite the same opinion. For the mumbaikars, it was probably a novel experience to see a beach in a city without a thick coating of plastic bags and assorted junk piled up. All in all, a good time. A few rugby tackles into the water later and we were soaked through and through, with sand in most unpleasant crevices imaginable. To ensure that I didn't lose my wallet and mobile to the drink, I placed it in a friend's bag, along with another chap. More on this later.
Soon after this, one headed off to indulge in some pizza(which by now was frigid cold, but pizza nonetheless) and coke(which by now was pushing room temprature, but coke nonetheless). That settled with, the majority returned to the beach, and I took off for a bit of a stroll with Malay and Dhruv. When we returned, I was accosted, thrown to the ground and buried in Sand. Then, shady sculptors proceeded to craft curves and organs upon me that do not belong. I also, for some odd reason, was made pregnant.

The two enlightened souls in the piture next to me then proceeded to indulge in an orgy which is far too graphic to display on this blog. There are quite clearly misguided kids reading it, and they don't need their brains damaged more than they already are.

Well, after all the hurly burly was done, we decided to call it a night and leave. At which point was discovered that the bag which contained my valuables, someone's laptop, and another wallet and cellphone was missing.
A bit of searching and prodding around later, we discover that it has been nicked, stolen you might say. Our cellphones refuse to be picked up, and the dastardly criminal mastermind to toy with us has not even switched them off.
After a few minutes of freaking out, the police were called and thus began a series of unfortunate events.
More on this later, with rants of how I've spent the last few days scrambling to get things back into order.

Happiness

Or, It Is Good To Be Home

Happiness, apart from being a warm gun at most time, is also very relative. You can find it in eating cake, sleeping, reading a book and whatnot. As for me, today I found, in the words of a beloved professor, what you may call as a semi-Nirvana state in a Bath At Home.

A bath at home, to those lucky sods not staying at a hostel, is special in many ways. It is clean. It is not filled with the remains and reminders of half a dozen girls before you. It is not in a depressing shade of stone, but is White(more accurately, Off White). It is YOURS. You can do what you want in the bathroom, you can sing, you can take hours, you can spend as much time as you want. It has hot water. (Don't get me wrong. Thankfully, my hostel is pretty decent, and has hot water everyday. But a hotwater bath sort of loses its charm when the outer temperature is 30 degrees celsius. A hot water bath is only fun when it is around 10 degrees celsius outside. Its true). The hot water is present in a Shower.Which is deeeeelllliggghhhttful.(for a kanjoos like me, especially when it comes to water-or money-thats a sinful indulgence). Did I mention the loofah? I meant to mention it. And the steam. One loves the steam. The bath allows you to get rid of your mother's oversized suit which you were wearing because you temporarily misplaced the keys to your suitcase in the night. Its a joy certain big,fat,dark men I could name will never appreciate. It leaves you delightfully clean and pink and fresh to paint the town red. Oh all right. To paint the house off-white. Whatever.