I admire Vicente del Bosque

The world needs a internet super hero.

-World

Chick chick chick, chick-tales

Aunt: The other day, in the train I met this lovely girl, she comes from a good home
Bakwas: If you ever, EVER talk about girls or if you try setting me up with someone I will never talk to you again.

This was my last conversation with my aunt.

So to give you lowdown about my “love life”, which was once active in comparison to Pete’s unborn love life, I have dated two ladies and had upto three other extremely messed up flings.
My homeboy Z once very wisely called girls associated with me as ‘psycho monkeys’. To keep the nomenclature simple, we shall adopt ‘psycho monkeys’ as the term given to girls associated with me.

Psycho monkey number 1: Case too boring to discuss.

Psycho monkey number 2: Let’s call her Chocolate cola. The only interesting part of our relationship is that we mutually dumped each other because we pretty much ran out of ideas, that and the fact that I was a sum total of eighteen years old then and I had been dating her for three years. Wow kids these days!

Well she’s now married to this hot shot IT dude, with an MBA. To which my sister appropriately said “You didn’t stand a chance dude!”, which is true. He self funded his MBA! There is no chance I would EVER better that. Anyway, we keep in touch; every time she needs to feel good about her weight she calls and mocks me. Bless her!

Psycho monkey number 3: By this time I was slightly smarter, but romantically far dumber than even the American standards system. Proof of how dumb I was (am) is the belief that I was capable of making a long distance relationship work. What on earth was I thinking? Let’s call her Poiuy. Poiuy wisely dumped me as soon as she unravelled that not too far from the surface of me, lies an extremely selfish person who doesn’t support anything or anyone’s aspirations.
I classify our current communication rate as ‘Bi-birthday’.

Psycho monkey number 4: Boring x 2 = Way too boring to discuss.

Psycho monkey number 5: Ms Cockroach, the latest of my infatuations. This was a dead end from the very beginning. I definitely couldn’t have gone more wrong with this one, I’ll leave it you to see why. Ms Cockroach is an engaged, Afghan millionaire’s daughter. Like that wasn’t an obvious sign, her fiancé is a philanthropic investment banker. Chocolate cola, summarised all this into one word, Terrorist! But she was so pretty, that too on the surface pretty not the beautiful inside kinds!

Here’s an interesting story, in order to make fun of her, I was enquiring about Ms Cockroaches religious affiliation! When she indicated she wouldn’t tolerate that, I brought up Ibn Batuta and how he Travelled across world, you know to make amends for my daftitude. So as I knew it, the Quran recommends that one must travel. In doing so, a person gains a wider perspective of the world and experiences challenges that nurture ones being. Ms Cockroach, who is a Muslim by birth (how shocking is that!) told me: “Firstly Bakwas, get your facts straight: the Quran doesn’t “recommend” travelling, it tells you to go on pilgrimages. Second, do you really need the Quran to tell you that travel broadens your horzon!” Setting the embarrassment of me being a NOT so hot intellectual aside, I admit that she isn’t just a hot-bod but is a person who is aware and had a personal perspective of things. Thus began the trivial pursuit of an ‘engaged to a investment banker’ cum ‘Afghani millionaires daughter’. Stupid stupid, STUPID!

My aunts Sunday pass-time is to read matrimonial classifieds of some Telugu periodical. That never bothered me as a kid, ‘cause I thought she was trying to hook my cousins up. Then there was an unrelated episode when she told my dad that she found me a ‘suitable match’, yeah the odds of that happening! So you’d expect my dad to know me, you know being my father and all, and yeah my old man did me proud. He knew way better than telling me something like that. But the job had to be done, someone had to tell me that my aunt had found a ‘suitable match’! Now everyone knows when all channels to Bakwas fail, it’s time to turn to Bakwas’ cryptonite. My sister!

You know how sometimes you just don’t want to deal with the suspense and you prefer to know right away whether it’s bad news or not (note how positive I am, there is bad news and not bad news. No ‘good news’.). So my sister calls me up one evening and says right off the barrel, ‘We need to talk’. Given all the grime I’ve waded through in my life, my spontaneous reflex was to say ‘I need my lawyer!’. Well after much cajoling, telling me there was nothing wrong, she told me that my aunt had found The Holy Grail! The one that shall bear the immaculate son. First there was denial. I just couldn’t come to terms with my sister not having dealt with this herself. This is a big deal for me. My sister always made the big decisions for me!

She later made a couple of very valid points: Why would she want to be the one who spoilt my chance of getting married, in case I was interested. Further it’s time for me to step out of the diaper and start wearing ‘em boxers!

Anyway then came anger. So I asked my sister whether she was out of her mind for not having told my aunt that it was a ridiculous idea. I was really annoyed that she even let such an issue to be brought to the table. I guess the deeper anxiety was:
a. Whether this was a sign of my sister washing her hands off me.
b. What about my plans? What was going to happen to the ‘Millionaire Bakwas weds Bisele Gundchen’ dream?

Then came bargaining. Now I have no interest in the rigmarole of responsibilities. There was no way I was going to give up my ‘minor’ status that easy. I promised my sister good grades, responsible drinking, I told her I was even willing to stop drinking! Exactly, I was that desperate. At this point my sister was as confused as an electrical engineer with a light bulb.

But then things took a not so slight turn. The question begging to be answered was, who on earth was this girl! As a matter of fact, in the broader perspective who were these people, who without any idea of the who, what, when, where, why’s of me wanted to get their daughter married to me! I mean, how can one merit ones worthiness solely on their parents. I was saddened for the girl, because it was her parents who were making an uninformed decision which could define her life. That’s when slight depression came.

Finally, it was acceptance that crept in. While I could do my part in not being part of what I consider an unfair bargain for a girl, but is that going to change anything for me? Are my folks going to suddenly realise this and start a resistance against young girls getting married to strangers. Hell no! So I accepted that I could only do my part and not part take in this illogical practice.

So what actually has been bothering me is what my brother in law casually said when he heard ALL of this, he said that I have commitment issues, wa-what!! Which makes absolute NONSENSE right! I mean, here I am single for about 2 pages running and I have commitment issues! How?

Suggestions being accepted now in the form of women ;)

-Bakwas

MISSION IS-THAT-BULL (CRAP)???

First thing’s first.
A) I’d like to thank Bakwaas & Pete for this super opportunity. I am truly honored.
B) I am not a movie critic. A Hindi movie critic is one who loves all SRK flicks & gives them a 5-star rating. I hate SRK.
C) I am just a huge Hollywood movie buff who thinks that he has seen enough quality flicks and thus can easily point out which part of a Hindi flick is “inspired” from which part of Hollywood flick. (Ya ya…Angrez ki aulaad)
D) The only quality bollywood flicks I watch are Mithunda flicks starring hot sleazy 18 year old chicks with raunchy music, Sunny’s action flicks Chi-Chi’s dance hits. Also, I was present at the world premiere of Radrakash- The modern Ramayan & Aap Ka Khajoor.

Here we go then.

The movie I am talking about is the recently released bollywood flick, “Mission Is-that-bull”. Lead hero Zero-head Kahn is India’s number one news reporter working for Kal-tak news channel. He is recently divorced from his wife ‘Dumbo’ (some hot Telgu actress who looks cute but then again I have lost my senses because I desperately crave for a chick in my life) & is on his way to work for famous aide-de-terrorist news channel, Al Jal-jeera. By the way, this guy is an IIT engineer (computers) who has ventured into journalism. Hmm, pretty innovative.

If you were to give a serious thought, what are you going to achieve after coming to U.S with your IIT degree? A masters program in top notch university with full tuition waiver followed by a $ 120,000/ year job in top MNC? Realistically, maybe an off-campus job at a gas-station & a $ 60,000/year job where you work for a desi consultant because his is the only E-verified company in U.S & your O.P.T period is gonna end soon. (Pete knows more while Bakwaas will soon find out). Keeping this scenario in mind, I must say, I like that. I mean, the director knows that U.S economy is in doldrums.

Scene 2. Camera zooms to Istanbul. Zero-head meets So-Nil ‘Yeda-anna’ Shitty. This guy is an ex-commando who turned to journalism because he hates killing people except for the fight scenes that is. I can tolerate that because So-nil bhai’s chutzpah (read chutyagiri) lasts only for one fight scene. It is as if the director is doing the soup Nazi, “So-nil bhai, you can’t act; you don’t want to kill; NO JOURNALISM FOR YOU”. (Seinfeld joke, google it)
Bye-bye So-nil, enter Be-wake Robroy. This guy is a total dude. Long flowing hair, dark sun-glasses, Batman style entry & exit and w(sh)itty punch-lines. OK… I can still watch it because I am not paying for the flick; it is free on the internet. Be-wake warns Zero-head that his life is in danger & when Zero-head tries to attack him, he grabs his hand & twists it which makes you puke because the move is not from Jason Bourne’s fight book but rather a cheap imitation of James Bond making a move on one of the Bond girls…but this time it is a Bond guy…Gay Bond…same thing…yuck!!!!

Istanbul’s opening scenes gave me a feeling that the movie might be based on 2001 action thriller, The Spy Game starring Robert Redford & Brad Pitt. It has Enya like music running in the background. But, it also has Jason Bourne’s theme & Dropkick Murphy’s ‘I am shipping up to Boston’ like theme running parallel to it. Definitely not a Spy Game copy. Thank you God for saving Robert Redford!!!

Al Jal-jeera’s editor-in-thief doesn’t like Zero-head mistakenly venturing on the 13th floor of their office building (very superstitious fellow) and thus orders his men to beat the shit out of Zero-head.

Enter Lara Croft Tomb Raider in body hugging leather suit. She kicks ass and kisses ass too (later being Be-wake). She works for the goons but is actually a R.A.W officer stationed in Istanbul who wants to offer Zero-head a job in India’s secret service agency. Waaah!!!! No wonder IITians keep on getting deadly job offers all the time.

Also, Al Jal-jeera guy uses the same transponders that N.S.A used in the movie ‘Enemy of the State’ to keep an eye on Zero-head ‘Will Smith’s’ daily chores. Be-wake ‘Gene Hackman’ Robroy finds Zero-head being chased by Turkish goons & beats the crap out of them. Why? Because they are from U.P-Bihar of Turkey & they hunt in 4s & they don’t know karate & shit & they look dumbfounded every time they are in front of camera…so, whooping their asses is easies…(my englishes!!!).

Next, our deadly duo plan to raid Al Jal-jeera’s 13th floor office, Matrix style. Their mission; which they have already chosen to accept; is, to copy all the data from Al Jal-jeera’s computers & plant a virus using a simple flash drive…Zero-head is Bollywood’s IIT computer engineer for Christ’s sake…he can do anything. Unkit Fadia, you suck at hacking because you wrote a book on it while Zero-head hacked the system in two freaking attempts. I’ll obviously opt for Zero-head’s notes when I study for my hacking exam! Phbbt!!!

After more Bourne Supremacy ‘man chase on roof tops’ & one Ronin style car chase in by-lanes of Istanbul comes the climax. Here, Zero-head is tied to the chair with his lady love ‘Dumbo’ (that’s her actual pet name in the flick) tied next to him & constipated faced villain is left to do a Philip Seymour Hoffman by threatening to kill lady love unless Zero-head hands the flash drive to him. Zero-head meanwhile tries to tell how much he loves ‘Dumbo’. Err…Mission Impossible 3 anyone???

The villains are so obsessed with the flash-drive & bitch talk that they have completely forgotten about Be-wake. Where are you Be-wake??? You swore you’d save the lovers 5 minutes before Zero-head turned himself in.

And Lo! There he is. Climbing on roof tops, planting time-bombs at strategic locations, wearing a bullet proof vest & W.T.F…carrying a Salaam Namaste style man-purse???? After-all, he is Turkey’s no.1 Metro-homo-sexual commando who killed Osama in Saddam’s bunker half way into the movie. Oopsie! I just leaked out the most vital bit of movie info!

In the end, Zero-head goes on to thrash his villain…after all, his lady love did say, “Go, get him Tiger”; which means…“Spiderman, Spiderman, does whatever a spider can…” Meanwhile, Be-wake & constipated villain slug it out after some bitch-talk & eventually restores peace in Turkey.

The movie ends with Zero-head discussing honey-moon plans with his lady-love & Be-wake comes in their bedroom to hug Zero-head & they live gayily ever after.

- Movie-monger (Friend of Buck & Pete)

As things are

Ever heard this one, “do well in your class 10 exams and your life will be a bed of roses” or “do well in your class 12 exams and your life…” or “do well in college and your…”? Anybody who has passed class 12 has definitely figured that all this is a whole bunch of baloney! Trust me; it takes much more than that to get to that bed of roses, no Peteboy I’m not talking about the typically Indian “First Night”.

I don’t know how you brainiacs have it, but neighbors and relatives get super inquisitive and desperately want to know what has been up with everyone else post graduation. Let me walk you through what we’ve been up to post graduation.

I guess you’re aware Peteboy Perfect Pessimist has moved overseas and is living an Amish existence whilst pursuing a Master of Science someplace in the US. He has stood up to his expectations and is faking about doing wretchedly in his course and continues to be a mumbling jumbling hard on. He still continues to run into dead end prospects. I believe he’s trying to put together a leaf blower. Dude, get real unless that thing runs on baby puke or someone’s fart on the other side of the earth, its not going to win you the nobel prize. He claims to have dates with some chick who is already latched on to some over achieving Stanford-Harvard alumni. Obviously his claims translate into binoculars, a locked room door and a whole lot of vibration.

Aajkarni is relishing working with Charag. Although he has realized that since every monkey with clothes on can get a bachelors degree he needs to spread his wings and try really hard and get back into Angels. Dude, don’t hide from the truth! Yes every angelite laughed at those buffoon’s with toothpaste for brains who pursued a management degree from angels. But, the brutal truth is without a family business or a masters you are just a monkey with clothes on. Apart from that he crashed his bike once and didn’t get shouted at and is now the proud brother of a class 11, angelite wannabe.

Bitterman is paying through his nose for a rather unusual course, Family Marriage Business Alliance. The be all and end all of this course is the never ending effort of trying to figure which families get married and what business are allianced (or is that which alliance are businessed). He still drives his Red Auto Crasher and still thinks Nerul and Powai are on the way to Airoli.

Roxa has been nursing an ailing bank balance. Though I think there is a strong relationship between Roxa’s bank balance and the bartenders average salary. I remind him that we are almost neighbors every weekend, because as you will realize in a bit I’ve been doing my share of over achieving too. Now since I’m trying to cut down on my artificial intoxicants intake, we meet every other weekend and spend amounts which used to be standard tips at the bars on bad coffee and worse chaat. He still is confused whether his 2 wheeler is a motorbike or a deadly chopper.

PACman aka Pluto, as you all probably know has pulled a Sadanand Swami (isn’t that the guy who cried “lift kara de” with socks in his throat and got his fingers insured for it?). I was with Roxa talking with Foetur one weekend when he told us that he lost so much weight that he weighs lesser than Roxa or me. At first I was like, “you mean he weighs lesser than Roxa AND me. Like Roxa AND me COMBINED” which I considered probable. But turns out PACman has thrashed my assumptions and now weighs as much as me or Roxa. Other than that he is trying to revolutionize how people of his faith do their banking.

Dented Happy Jaidev is trying hard to bid tata to his employer Bye-bye! Apparently answering calls all day isn’t what he bashed his brains all night over Dynamics of Machinery and Fluid Mechanics for.

“He who can, does...he who can't...teaches", having said that I tell you mechanics is a challenge and you need to apply yourself to crack it. Some people take a couple of attempts more than those over smart- notes maintaining, dabba eating, going home and studying, library book borrowing, the basic NO SOCIAL LIFERS!!

Hard Deep Fatty is one of them. He took time to clear mechanics because he probably tried to physically replicate each and every problem he found in the texts and notes. “He who can, does…”.

Now hypothetically imagine somebody like him, NOT HIM but like him. Somebody who walks, talks, thinks, studies, dresses and yeah maybe even looks like him decides that he is a suitable candidate for a job with the cess pool a la grande, the Angel teaching faculty. Given the extremely high and stringent standards of Angels, he gets the bloody job and very rightly so. But herein lies the tragedy, awww. Two months into his job, he plugs one of his final semester people. HEY, I FLUNKED IT TOO, HENCE STAND THE RIGHT TO MOCK AT HIM!! Now, that’s what education is all about. Being taught by people who’ve stood the test of time trying to pass subjects is exactly what budding receptionists need...“he who can't...teaches”. What say, Jaidev?

The next account is tragic so people, please stay strong. Foetur is not a rapist, not a pedophile, is not a drug abuser and is not a safe driver. But one morning his sibling walked into the room and found him strewn across the bed writhing in pain and yonder laid a severely abused old monk, Alcohol. No one could exactly estimate how long Alcohol was facing the wrath of treacherous Foetur. Some people say Foetur started abusing Alcohol the day he first donned a bandana, but I think the abuse dates much earlier.

It was when Foetur was being baptized that he bumped into this old monk, Alcohol. The old monks’ sweet taste made a permanent mark on Foetur’s mind. The contrasts of age didn’t matter to him, it was his sweet taste that he began craving for. As Foeter grew fatter with age (the essence is him growing fat not old), he slowly yet surely started abusing the poor old monk. I knew of his abuse and foretold God’s action on him, who abuses an old monk man!! It happened indeed, while working Foetur met other people who shared the same proclivity. Religiously, they’d meet over the weekend and systematically abuse Alcohol, Absoslut Smirnadi and others. It was during one of these romps when things went out of hand. Alcohol had enough of the abuse and summoned the courage to fight Foetur. Having routinely studied the Foetur’s ample body from the inside, he found his weakness. Foturs Achilles heel is his knee. The old monk cursed his knee and Foetur fell like a beer barrel (actually like 10 beer barrels). “No medicine can cure people like him” remarked the doctor on seeing Foeturs hapless body. Foetur went cold cabbage (turkey was struck of his diet as punishment) for a long time and now gradually shows signs of a more responsible citizen. I can vouch that he and his spectacles are more safe himself now, though he still doesn’t know how to drive.

All this brings it to me, I hope you haven’t fallen asleep in anticipation. Unlike these low lifes I have been upto some serious over achieving. While these buffoons had to go far and wide to make money, I remained sensible and continued begging at my dads door. You’ll be surprised what a little persistence can get! I have been computing a lot off late, I regularly spend 3-4 hours computing on intensive applications like Zero Conditions and the brand new Fafi 2007! I miss college a lot though, so much so that I dragged my over rated final year project back into my life. Now apart from being “modest”, I also am known to be a giving person. So I gave the responsibility of putting together a new robot to Bitterman and in return I gained the satisfaction of sharing! All these over achieving was noticed by some twit all the way in the Divided and Surprisingly backward States and decided to tap my talent.

As you can see, I have to get back to nursing my talent. Untill next time, shake the boom shake!!
All the characters in this story are REAL, they’ve names have been altered to save them some shame.

NEW YORK – NEW YORK

After my pathetic FALL QUARTER ended in November, I had to prepare myself for a 45 day long winter break. What was miserable about the break was that most of the seniors I knew were heading back to homeland. As for me; well, I knew spending 45 days with my room-mates in our 2x2 sq.ft apartment wouldn’t be an ideal way to spend such a long vacation. Watching movies, cooking food and listening to old Hindi songs thirty days in a row bored me to death. I was even tired of watching p*rn! (Shocking, but true!!!) So, I decided to make full use of my parents’ hard earned money by booking an airline ticket from Columbus to New York and spending Christmas & New Year at my uncle’s place.

I had to travel to Columbus via breyhound bus service since I was getting a cheaper airline ticket deal. Airline travel…cheap…not making sense eh…don’t bother…just keep on reading. I arrived at the breyhound terminal on time; the bus though…was not on time.

Eventually, when breyhound bus started, the bus driver picked the in-car speaker-phone and made an announcement, “Hi! This is your Captain speaking!!! Right now, we are on our way to Columbus via Springfield. The temperature outside is currently 60 degrees. We will reach Columbus in 1 hour 40 minutes, so please sit back and enjoy the ride. I request you to please switch of the cell-phones for convenience of other passengers.” (For those who think I made up this bit, go ask anyone who has travelled by a breyhound bus)

Dude!! W.t.f man… “This is your captain speaking???” Just because the breyhound company gave you a freaking cap, it doesn’t make you a pilot. You are driving a freaking bus for God’s sake. And let’s say you are a pilot, then where is the sexy airhostess? All I see is financially unstable Americans and miserly Indians travelling in the bus. And why should we keep the cell-phones switched off? Is it because it will interfere with the vehicle’s electronic stability control and air-conditioning by which the “pilot” will have to control the bus on road & pull the vehicle on side-way??? Jeez.

Anyways, 4 p.m, 24^th December, I am at my uncle’s apartment in Queens. Now, if you think that I am going to write about what all places I saw in New York, then let me tell you one thing loud and clear: - this is not a blog version of Lonely Planet: New York.

I was to stay at my uncle’s place for a couple of days before meeting my friends from school and going on a road trip with them. So, we made the best of the two days by visiting places like Times Square, Broadway and catching the Staten Island ferry to have a good look at the Statue of Liberty. While my uncle was busy explaining the historical significance of the statue to me, I was busy studying the topological features of the German, Spanish, Italian & French female visitors on the ferry. I came to New York to sight-see, so, I was enjoying the sights to the fullest.

After experiencing the Christmas radiance in New York, my friends & I rented a car and drove to Atlantic City on the 26^th. One of my friends was accompanied by his girl-friend. Upon reaching Atlantic City, we visited one of many casinos. Out of the blue, my friend’s girlfriend developed a sudden urge to play on the slot machine and she was pretty adamant about it. Well, having a girlfriend can be expensive. Your wallet is always empty since you need to keep her happy all the time. Apparel, footwear, cosmetics and other accessories are few things you must buy for her irrespective of her dad being rich or you being poor. But gambling? This is one relationship I won’t be betting on!

Bad days aren’t a novelty for me. I mean, I used to get 10 on 10 for my essays on the topic, “the day everything went wrong”. Stuff like that would just come naturally to me. I’d write about my real life experiences unlike others who would have to cook up something just to make it sound more tragic. But, 27^th December 2007, was, by far, the worst day of my life. Ever since we had planned the trip, I was the one jumping with enthusiasm knowing we would be boozing all night at my friend’s apartment that day. “Oh boy! I am gonna drink; Oh boy! We are gonna swill; oh boy! We are gonna tipple! Oh boy, my first booze session since coming to USA!!!! Oh boy!!!” I created the hoopla. We even bought a Johnny Walker red label single malt scotch whiskey to celebrate our re-union after a huge gap of 6 months!

When the time came for the first shot, I flattered to deceive. The stuff was so smooth that there was no burning sensation in the throat. Though, I found the smell obnoxious. I don’t know whether the minced chicken preparation which I had along with chopped onions a few hours ago was making me sick. But whatever it was, I was just not able to drink. The whole night, I just sat with a shitty expression on my face while my friends were boozing like crazy & calling me a chicken for not drinking. I don’t blame them at-all. During our drinking sessions back in India, I was the one who could gulp down almost 300 mL of cheap liquor like Royal Stag whiskey and McDowell’s No.1 etc. etc. and here I was, not being able to finish off one peg of red label scotch; a diluted peg rather. It was as if my manhood was being mocked at and unfortunately, I did not have an answer.

(Mom, dad… in case you read this, do not panic…I only cooked this stuff just to make it sound funny… I don’t drink….NOT! I am still a good boy who left India 6 months ago)

While the whole of New York was anxiously waiting for the BALL-DROP at Times Square on New Year’s Eve, I was enjoying the New Year event at Central Park. Ok; you may think that I am a fool for not being at Times square to witness the event but I was not at all eager to stand in chilly open air from 5 pm to 2 am without food, water and occasional visits to the loo. I was better off at Central Park watching gyrating asses (not donkeys) while listening to some really good dance hits. When the count-down began, the fireworks started and continued for next 15 minutes.

Yes, I have celebrated all my previous New Years strictly with kith and kin…err kin only to be precise. Yes, I did not miss watching Usha Uthup’s boring televised singing programs or Star Movies’ primetime broadcast of latest James Bond flicks on 31^st eve. And yes, I hadn’t witnessed such pyrotechnics before. So, was this the best thing that could ever happen to me? Hell no.

For the first time in my life, I longed for someone special. I wanted to hold her hands. I wanted to gaze at her, look into her eyes endlessly. Bloody hell, I even wanted to kiss her when the silly count-down ended. At 23, I was alone in the city that never sleeps watching stupid fireworks. And then………..

RC: Knock Knock!!!

Pete: Who is it???

RC: Reality Check!!!

Pete: Reality Check, who???

RC: Reality Check- you are still lonely & miserable.

Pete: Amazing fireworks!!!!! Mind-blowing!!!! Wooooohooo!!! New York rocks!!!!! This is my best New Year eve ever!

I had to catch a Columbus bound flight on 1^st afternoon. After the routine security check, I waited at the assigned gate for an hour. I used that time to summarize my New York trip. Technically, I was in New York City for three whole days. Three days are not enough to visit such a big city. Yes, I used the subway and found the experience amazing. No, I did not walk & dance & sing on the Shah Rukh Khan Bridge (also known as Brooklyn Bridge to the rest of the world). Yes, I saw the Ground-Zero and felt, “So! Another huge rubble site in a concrete jungle...how different is it from any other???” No, I did not eat the road-side halal food and neither did I take a picture of me with the Bull. And no, I did not visit the stupid wax museum either. And now, you want me to compare New York with Mumbai.

So, here goes:- “New York Rocks!!!” It is an amazing city indeed. The skyline is magnificent. The subways are almost 100 years old, well planned and the best and fastest mode of transport. Multicultural population makes residing in New York equally easier. There is the Chinatown for cheap goods and the Indiantown for cheap Indians. (America calls Indiantown as New Jersey). Patels, Shahs, Desais, Singhs are all there. You feel like home. To be honest, I never wanted to leave the city.

After spending my entire life in Mumbai, I always thought that I’d never want to be somewhere else. New York attracted me but there is something about Mumbai that can never be matched. The crazy rush for bus at any time of the day; the overcrowded trains whose time-table you can never forget; watching cricket match from North stand, abusing the visiting teams & then getting mentioned in the newspaper; the Queen’s necklace at night; ever increasing price of fuel; the traffic policeman a.k.a “Pandu” and the road side chat food in the evening. New York may have its Times Square & New Year’s ball drop to boast about but if you really want to experience a city’s real flavor, visit Mumbai.

Three things define Mumbai: Cordial functioning irrespective of induced communal tension, Ganesh Chaturthi exuberance & festooning and the immortal vada-pav. Politicians may want it to be the next Shanghai but as long as these three things stay, the spirit of Mumbai will always remain forever.

- Peteboy

MASTER & THE CONUNDRUM – III

Like a trained parrot, I had blabbered everything nice about my university to the visa officer in order to get the visa. These days, the visa procedure has become more of a lucky draw. One of the main reasons for me coming to this university (as told to visa officer) was the ease of getting an assistantship. When I landed in America, the situation was rather chaotic.

To begin with, the assistantship scenario was looking bleak since the professors with field of interest of my liking already had atleast one desi student under them. On the other hand, the fields in which I was not interested had all sorts of openings available! Facing a Catch 22 situation, I started writing e-mails to all the professors asking them for ‘FUNDING’… (that’s right…desi public have their own lingo…funding is a word they use for assistantship) but almost everyone quickly replied, “THANKS BUT NO THANKS”. Little did I know that all the professors here were now trying to avoid hiring desi students because of their casual, paralyzed & cramming style of thesis work & study. GOOD JOB, SENIORS!!!! (Grrrr)

Whilst continuing on my ‘Will do anything for Funds’ mission, I came to know of a certain professor who was on a lookout for a part-timer to do designing work for his clients. He wanted someone who was hard-working, willing to learn new stuff; someone who was good at imagination; someone having profound knowledge of CAD software & someone who was always punctual with his work. He was unable to find anyone with so many attributes. I told him straightaway that I fitted the bill & I should be able to give this challenge a shot. Multitasking is definitely not my forte but when in Rome, do as Romans do!

This professor was going to teach a course which all the desis are afraid to take up since there are no reference books readily available. None of the desis had taken his course in past five years. Even after being severely warned by seniors, I registered for the very course & decided to take up the part-time work as I wanted to improve my chances of getting funded. Obviously, he was not going to pay me for the work I did as he wanted to observe me for one “Quarter” & then decide whether I was good at fulfilling any one of the stipulations he had put forward.

(The university where I am studying has a ‘QUARTER-SYSTEM’ of education as compared to ‘SEMESTER-SYSTEM’ in most of the universities)

The first few weeks passed without any problem. Both the subjects were esoteric but I always had this gut feeling that I would cope with the studies once I started studying “sincerely”. Besides, I had enough experience of handling pressure & burden of completing the assignments on time thanks to the teachings & sufferings I received in my undergrad alma-mater.

Daily routine included waking up early, grabbing light breakfast, packing my lunch-box & running to university lab so that I could chat with my parents as we had already fixed a time which was suitable for both of us keeping the time-difference in mind. Parallel online chatting with most of the school & college friends meant recollecting those selected twenty-thirty incidents & jokes & laughing endlessly at them. The only time chatting sessions turned sour were when they would shamelessly ask, “oye, whats the score?”

Now, there are some things which a good friend knows very well about you. ‘Struggling to get a girl-friend till date' is a one such thing. Questions regarding such things can only depress you in a way because at the end of the day, it is your best friend who has made you look like a loser. It hurts your ego.

If you are attracted to some girl or maybe infatuated by her presence, the gutsy thing to do is ask her out. Unfortunately, your conscience tell you that approaching her will only lead to rejection as you have nothing that will impress her. It is a knee-jerk reaction. Under such circumstances, you listen to it. Then, you tell the whole world that you never approached a girl because you never found anyone perfectly befitting for you. As a result, your self-esteem remains untainted and you don’t face rejection. Anyways, it was never a serious issue because all my friends haven’t found their “right girl” yet. So, to think about it, we are still sailing in the same boat.

Five weeks down the line, I was still struggling to follow a single word of both the subjects. Fourth week was the last week to drop the course which meant I had to continue what I had signed for. As for CAD work; well, we were never taught CAD software during my undergraduate studies & since football, tennis, formula1, cricket, movies & free quality p*rn were the only ‘happening things’ in my college life, there was no time to self motivate myself & learn CAD software on my own.

Things did not end there. The second course which I had taken was called “Mechanical Oscillations” & during my undergrads, I don’t know how many attempts I gave to clear this very subject. I, not being able to understand a single equation or word of the first subject, (one which I mentioned two paragraphs above this one) somehow started making sense as this subject was called “Advanced Non-periodic Oscillations”. When the eighth week of the ten-week quarter arrived, I was in a state of rut:- attending the lectures, cooking food, eating food, chatting with my parents wherein I assured them everything is O.K, sleeping, eating & ooh yes…free p*rn…free, LEGAL, excellent quality P*RN! My “Oscillations” exam was after two weeks & had a project submission of “nonlinear she-near me-fear oscillations” the week before. I was lost in a labyrinth & all the exit-doors were closed for me.

I don’t know how the final week of the Quarter flew by. I had managed to complete the project in time. At the time of presentation, the professor pointed out that my assumptions for the project problem were wrong which meant my entire project was wrong. Fortunately, my four native classmates got their individual projects wrong as-well. The final exam didn’t turn out that well either. Moreover, I missed my cheat-buddies sorely (so what if I am unable to cheat…read “ITS 7th SEM-MISTER?”). When the grades came out a week later, history repeated itself.

Four months have gone by & my attempts to get ‘funded’ have turned futile. I got bored of the free part-time work & the professor got bored of me not being able to produce any results. Grades aren’t worth mentioning either. No assistantship means I have to use up the entire educational loan. Using whole amount means looking for a job in America as soon as I pass out so that I can repay the loan within stipulated time. Job search is only possible if I manage to pass out in Summer or Fall Quarter to get maximum time for O.P.T. If at-all I get a job, I have to impress my employer so that he will file for my H1 visa status.

Since Quarter system has certain courses being offered only during certain Quarters, I am stuck here till the next Winter. Keeping that in mind, I’ll have to stretch my graduation by five additional months. That means additional expenses. Not to mention the fact that the place I am studying is located in a remote village.

No job means I might have to opt for a PhD. program which sucks in a way because I am not a big fan of studies. So, I am pretty sure I won’t be able to that. Plus, I’ll be stuck here for not two but five full years.

Whoever said, “if you can become an engineer in India, masters’ degree from anywhere else will be a bed of roses”, fooled me big time. There are so many things to worry about while completing the coursework that I have even given up looking for loop-holes in the system. Swimming with the tide is the only logical option; so what if it takes you to Bermuda Triangle!!!

Even after doing so, the perennial question still remains unanswered: “what about that girl I am so crazy about?” I know I can’t get her. She seems to be happy with her guy (though latest intelligence reports suggest that he is not her “boy-friend” & they are just “going-out”) and I pretend to be self occupied with no time for love. Eventually, I’ll be relying on my parents to find me ‘the One’ whether my ego likes it or not. Believe me, even they won’t find it easy to dupe someone to marry me because:

a) Nobody wants to marry an obese, bald guy graduating from a lesser known university & earning peanuts in an organization where there is no job security or
b) A guy who is struggling with his PhD program.

Today’s women want adventurous guys who, while raking moolah, are able to fulfill the promise of providing a Queen-size life to them. They are so not into aged geeks who are unable to find a secured job in the first place and take ages to start earning big bucks.

Well, just to console myself, I can say that I survived four years in the ANGLE slammer. So, few more years of butt-kicking won’t make a difference either. All I pray for is a good life which is difficult to get and a good wife which is even more difficult to get.


- Peteboy