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

MASTER & THE CONUNDRUM - II

Lucky me, my uncle is big-shot in INDIA-AIR. He pulled couple of strings together & there I was flying to America in business class. He helped me find my seat & introduced me to the business class cabin crew & told them to take good care of me. When my uncle left the plane, the crew was still smiling at me but it was more of smirk…as if I was traveling for free or something. The worst thing about this situation was that I could not comfort myself with the free booze now that the entire crew knew who I was. The last thing you want is your mom shouting at you when you call her once you reach the university…rather than she asking you, “how was your flight? Are you jet-lagged?, blah blah blah”, she is going bonkers over the fact that her dotting ‘teetotaler’ son consumed free liquor in-flight & created a ruckus (hic). Also, with no one sitting next to me, it was going to be a lonely ride to London.

My uber-cool uncle had also told the pilot about me, so after about three hours, the pilot invited me into the cockpit. There were two to-be-pilots already inside; conversing with the pilot & co-pilot; asking all sorts of questions, company policies, aircraft history & service etc. Meanwhile, I was looking at all the switchgears like a monkey in a zoo, most of the times wondering, “Emm…what is this? What does this button do? Is the pedal near the pilot’s foot an accelerator or a brake?” By then, the pilot read my mind & started asking me about my journey so far, my schooling background, & gave me full permission to ask any questions now that he knew I was a mechanical engineer. Everyone knows how straight-forward I am… so my first question to him was a simple one, “what happens when one of the engines fail?”

The co-pilot gave me ‘the look’ the moment he heard this while the to-be-pilots started palpitating. The pilot, on the other hand, quickly changed the topic by pointing at the window saying, “Hey, look guys, we are now flying over Tehran!”
Ok. So what’s the catch? Am I supposed to look outside the window & wave to the crowd below? Or am I to look and point out and jump up with joy shouting, “ooh ooh, that part of Tehran down there looks just like Connaught Place in Delhi!!!” We are flying 33,000 feet above sea-level! Shouldn’t I be worrying about some goon down there with a missile launcher pointed at us, hitting us & then you worrying about how to control the plane when an engine or tail or wing goes missing!

“FLYING OVER TEHRAN!!!!!”…. sheeeesh!!!!!!!!!!

A London stop-over later, I was back on the flight with no one in the adjacent seat once again. I was hoping that the change of crew would mean I could taste some booze on my way to USA but those hopes took a severe beating when one of the stewards came up to me & told me that he & my uncle have known each other for a decade. This meant another eight hours on juices, boring Bollywood movies & lot of sleep.

23 hours gone, I reached the promise land. Also, with no one sitting next to me during the entire flight & having lost my chance to tipple, my dream of joining the mile-high club were severely busted whichever way you look at it.


“The air smells like maple syrup” is what I told my mom when I called her up. It was only later that I realized that the air does not smell like maple syrup but it was the car in which I was travelling which had the MAPLE-TREE freshener inside. Air in America actually smells like cigarettes. Look around & all I could see is people with cigarettes. There is this MULL-BORROW man & then there is the common man. Both of them smoke. One rides a horse while the other drives a car with one hand outside the window, fingers tightly gripping the cigarette butt, other hand on the steering wheel & head tilted so that he/she can hold the cell-phone between his/her ear & shoulder-blade.

Anyways, it didn’t take me long to figure out what the native people were really thinking of me coming here. I could read the message behind their fake smiles that damn easily. When native men smiled, I always thought they wanted to say, “get lost short fat guy with receding hairline who has come here to steal my job, lowlife!” irrespective of what kind of worker he was whereas chicks, & I mean hot chicks depicted their message loud n clear, “Buzz of four-eyes! Go find yourself an Indian chick. I am not going out with you!!!”
Under such circumstances the best thing to do is return the smile back & they should be able to read your message:- “whatever keeps you happy!!!”

One week after staying at senior’s place, I was introduced to other seniors from different departments. After exchanging pleasantries, all of them had one question for me…. “Why here? Couldn’t you find any other college to make your life miserable?” Hmmm…good question that one but the only answer I could think of was, “well, I thought I’d give you guys a company.”

The chick scenario here was sad. For me, when was it not? The native chicks didn’t give a damn while desi chicks were damned. I was hoping that I’d find someone interesting once the university opened. A week after the university opened, I thought I had found one, a special one, the only one. As luck would have had it, she was hooked up with some guy so I already gave up even before going for the kill.

There are some things a guy should not hesitate to go after. Getting a right girl is very essential. Someone who not only attracts you by her beauty and charm but also stimulates you by her intellect. Finding the right one is a not a problem if you are willing to try. Unfortunately, today’s so called right ones want a guy who is smart, rich and understanding. As for me, there is a long way to go before I fulfill my to-be right one’s criteria (if at all I manage to get the one I want).

-Peteboy

(This is part-2 of a three part mini series where the blogger wishes to share his experiences as he goes on to chase his so called dreams.)

MASTER & THE CONUNDRUM - I

It has been a while since I posted anything here. In fact, it has been a while since either of us posted anything here. I assume most of you know that I was kicked out of the house way back in August. My homies were obviously tired of entertaining me for last 20 something years & knowing that my dismal performance in studies led to abysmal performance in job related interviews; the only logical choice was to punish me for my deeds. A brief meeting was called sometime last year & it was decided that the only way in which I could redeem myself was by pursuing further education & by that they meant a masters’ degree not just from anywhere but a Masters from a country which God always blesses – America!

Fast-forward 1 year & here I am in some University in some state of US of A.

Before sending me off though, there were words of advice from my family.

My parents told me to study hard & reminded me how expensive education in the States is so it would be better if I could score good marks & get a scholarship or something like that. All I wanted to say to them was, “if you know how expensive education is in the States, can’t you make arrangements for a punishment which is financially not that hard on me given the fact that I’ll be the one paying for the education loan!!!”

My grand mom had no interest where I was heading but kept on harping upon the same string; her string being, “Pete, don’t fall in love with a girl who does not belong to our caste, creed & community!!!” Her words were more of a sucker-punch because

a) From what I know, there are hardly any girls from my caste/creed who are single
b) Girls from my caste/creed/community get hooked up quickly because they are intelligent, smart, brilliant cooks, good home-makers & yes…good looking too.
c) Due to the exceptional qualities mentioned above, guys from other caste/creed are the first ones to go after them & they succeed with minimal efforts (dunno how!)
d) If at-all there are any single girls from my cult left in USA, I am 100% sure they won’t be studying in the university I study in
e) You know I don’t know where to stop when I talk to girls if at-all I manage to start talking to them in the first place. So, “me” finding the “right one” yet “special one” is like England winning EURO 2008.
f) Whatever happened to secularism?

On the contrary, my aunts somehow managed to ask the same set of questions; as if they were communicating with each other thru’ telepathy just to check whether I was really going there to study or was going on a vacation, their question being:-

“Where exactly are you heading? As in; where? Which country? Which state? Which city? Which county? Why? How?”

The only thing I could surmise from these 20-questions was either they were so keen to know where I was heading so that they could come visit me during my vacations or that they wanted to keep in touch with me via mails so that I can be of some help when their kids are ready for “further studies”. Not that my aunts are bad…but just a thought.

Finally, it was my college friends’ turn. None of my school mates could come since they had already left for the promise land. During their three hour stay at my place, all we did was remember the good times we had during our four miserable years of college. Oh, they also emptied 5 bags of chips & 4 bottles of colas. When they were about to leave, they gifted me a swanky wrist-watch & made me swear that not only I bring each of them a watch when I come back to India but also update them my score every quarter. YOU GUYS…….!@#$%^&!!!!

When D-day arrived, my mom couldn’t control her emotions & the tears just wouldn’t stop flowing. This led to some kind of chain re-action due to which my dad, cousins, grandparents & aunts started crying too. I was the only one in my house with a dumbfounded look on my face so I switched on the T.V & started watching re-run of some old cricket match. It was the angry look on my dad’s face that made me realize that I hadn’t yet finished my packing & it was almost departure time. Eventually, we managed to pack everything in three suitcases: clothes, spices, utensils, groceries, ready-to-eat items, shoes, socks, towels, dishes, cleaning agents & what not. Things didn’t end there. My beloved aunts had prepared eatables which I had to take as a “don’t forget us” token (I told you they were all nice…I don’t castigate my relatives, get it!) and the zippers on all of my bags were just about holding it together. Eventually, I had to wear 2 sets of socks, t-shirts & undergarments so that the airline would not charge me for over-weight luggage. Not to mention a blazer & a jacket. Wow! August is so chilly & cold in INDIA isn’t it???

Approximately twenty people came to see me off at the airport. While I was travelling in my car, one cab led the way & another one followed us. Two motorcycles were already clearing the traffic for me. Had there been few more people and some music, this would have definitely looked like a “Ganpati Visarjan” procession. They were taking me to an ocean to immerse me for sure!!!!

After final few minutes with my family, I thanked everyone for coming & waved them goodbye. Everyone wished me luck & a Bollywood style dialogue summed it up, “Pete, don’t forget us!!!”

On my way in, I saw my family & well-wishers through the glass door. They were sobbing. I couldn’t. All I could do was flash my teeth & wave at them. Then I proceeded towards the vestibule. Before I went through the security check, I turned around for one last time. This time though, they were laughing, smiling…some even dancing. Some feeling proud, some feeling “heh heh heh…good riddens”. Somehow I got this feeling that it was my time to sob soon.



- Peteboy

(This is part-1 of a three part mini series where the blogger wishes to share his experiences as he goes on to chase his so called dreams. )

PET PEEVE

The other day, my mom & I were watching ANIMAL PLANET when all of a sudden she started telling me that having a pet would definitely get rid of certain ennui that had crept in our house. She believed that spending some time with the pet, playing with it would act as a stress buster & would eventually help me concentrate on my studies.

Get a pet? Now? What am I, seven? Funny but when we were watching DISCOVERY the previous night, she never thought of buying the latest i-pod or the new XBOX-360 that was shown. Get a PET!!!!!

You see, I am not an animal person. Though Garfield, TOP CAT and SILVESTER are really cool cartoon characters, I hate cats. It is the second most selfish creature on earth…first being me offcourse. They like to be pampered only when they are in a mood to get mollycoddled. Worst thing about them is that they will damage your stuff and yet you can’t do anything about it since there is that innocence in their eyes. So getting a cat is totally out of question.

Next to a cat comes a dog. Personally, I have nothing against the dogs but I think they are stupid. If one dog barks, the others bark. If dogs were to talk and if you were to ask anyone of them on why he barked, you’d probably get a reply which goes, “I dunno! He started it. I merely followed.” And then if you were to ask the dog who started all this, his reply would be, “I dunno… I just felt like barking…because I can bark.” Not only this but this creature will chase anything that seems to travel faster than it even if it happens to be its tail. And all of a sudden, it will stop chasing whatever it is chasing because, “Ughh, I don’t know why I am chasing it in the first place.” SO DAMN STUPID!!!!

After cat and dog comes a fish. It is said that having a small aquarium in a house does improve your level of concentration. But having an aquarium is a high maintenance job. One has to feed the fish thrice a day, clean the tank twice a week and buy new ones once a month because they keep dying due to mysterious circumstances. Not my cup of tea.

So, an hour long discussion, the ‘pet’ issue stalemated. The next day I woke up only to find out that my granny was bitten by a RAT. That’s right, a rat. How he entered our house was not an issue, how to get rid of him ASAP was and I kid you not, this rat was one tough S.O.B.

That very night, my dad & I, with sticks in our hand, were all set to beat the shit out of him. We were able to trace down his route and apparently I was standing in his way. So, the rat went over my leg, my dad went to whack him & CRACK! I heard my toe-nail get shattered. Operation RAT-WHACK failed and the rat never took the same path again for his night-walk.

For the next two days, he was nowhere to be seen although he had eaten couple of potatoes…bits of em…maybe he didn’t like them…maybe they weren’t sweet enough for him. Maybe. By now, granny had harassed grandpa regarding this uninvited guest or rather this pet of ours and poor old gramps, with a cane in his hand, went about hitting everything in sight except the rat if at all he showed his face to us. A Broken lamp-post and a telephone later, even he gave up.

Meanwhile my dad was still fancying his chances and bought a mouse-trap. Fried fish, papad, cheese and potato chips were used to lure him and he managed to steal the bait, eat it & shit there but never get caught. Dad even bought MORE-TEEN, the fancy rat-kill medicine whose punch-line was “ONCE THEY EAT IT ZIP-ZAP-ZOOM, THE RAT WILL MEET ITS DOOM.”
Talk about show-boating man…our “pet” ate 3 whole packets of MORE-TEEN and all we saw the next morning was truck load of RAT POOP.

My advice to MORE-TEEN: - advertise your product as a LAXATIVE for RATS and NOT as a RAT-KILL medicine.

I bought rat poison from a roadside “RAT PIOSON” wala (no typo here) and he instructed me how to use it effectively. He also warned me to wash my hands with detergent since the acid used was pretty darn lethal. Ironically, while I was buying the poison, one exasperated man came there searching for poison which could kill a dog. Why? Coz a certain dog in his alley was multiplying at an alarming rate, was barking late nights right outside his house and for no reason kept chasing him when he rode on his bike. (see… I told you dogs are stupid).

Anyways, I would have loved to tell you happened next but the rat nibbled the wires of my PC. The cyber café owner is telling me that my 30 mins are up and I am supposed to be at bakwas’ place right now watching a movie called THE DEPARTED… and oh yes…the movie is also about a rat.

Peteboy

SEM V WITH I'S

After I screwed up my class twelve grades I had my heart set on doing what my sibling did and become a Computer geek…and I was pretty into it to…since class 9 the only subject I preferred doing was Computers…you know why….coz I wanted to be a Computer Engineer…but yeah, as luck turns out ….i’m 6 months away from graduating with a BE (MECHANICAL)…and that’s not what computers are called these days!!

Kids want to be Sachin, Sehwag, Kapil or Kumble if you’re desparate (nobody wants to be Kambli)…my parents had a similar idea, only this didn’t have anything to do with Sehwag or Sachin, hell this didn’t have anything to do with cricket or for that matter sports….my parents wanted me to be a PJ…Pandit Jasraj. They’re theory was if 1 or 2 people in the family could make a buck or two out of music…what must stop our son!!! Principle of Induction at its best!!

As a kid, like every third kid on the block I wanted to become a pilot, and I reckon I had a couple of real hunky uncles (note: anybody older than you, who isn’t your dad is an uncle….get that Webster!!) were pilots….and the more I goo-goo’d that I wanted to be one of ‘em the more I got to dip my fingers into their whisky and soda!! Given all the fauji’s in my khandaan…becoming a pilot shouldn’t have been tough! So I was advised to study at the Rashtriya Indian Military College, but the only thing between RIMC and me, was diarrhea… I think that was the only time my dad was proud of me….my son didn’t even have to give the exam, NOT to get into RIMC. Thus ended the dj and the fauj saga.

It was then that my sister give me a whiff of the moolah!! And I think the order of those days was IT, and I swore that day I was gonna become a comp geek!! Since then, which is class 8 all my electives have been computers.

My dad has been to a WHOLE lot of places abroad, his job was of that kind….and that was my next dream….to visit as many countries as my dad did. Now neither did I have the money to do it by myself nor did have the PR that my dad has to get a job that would take me places….and wallah the Indian Foreign Service keeda took form!! But no sooner did I realize the quanta of work that went into becoming one than the fervor waned.

Come class 9, I was exposed to the realm of nuclear chemistry, that brought alive the Nuclear Scientist in me…I couldn’t wait to assemble a nuclear bomb man…and hey, I knew the difference between a fission and fusion bomb!! But when I checked out the Nuclear Science course in MIT ( I had no idea I was to land up as a Fathers Angel!!) and read all that thermal blah….no sir…maybe some other time!!

It was around that time that I realized that I could make people laugh (I was not aware of the “laugh with not at” theory). So after a week of “Whose Line Is It Anyway” I wanted to be Ryan Stiles….then I heard the Jim Carrey story and along the way bumped into the “laugh with and NOT BE LAUGHED at” theory. So it looked pretty clear to me Comp Engg it was gonna be.

At boarding school you either be stud or grovel in the gravel…so I had to play a game apart from, who can finish the beer can first…I was no good at Basket Ball…cricket wasn’t my forte, tennis is what my dad wanted….that got ruled out right there….so football it was. Now I had to become a Raul or a Giggs…so my dad put it in perspective for me “you get into Tata Football Academy, and you can quit school”….yeah if they let me play more than 60 minutes I would. Ever since, football has been analogous to TV.

Now at boarding school you also have to find a way to attend as few classes as possible, LEGALLY please note. Now, that was done via Band Practice….I enrolled myself in the school marching band…I learnt the C D E F’s of music and then started dabbling with the guitar that was lying around in our dormitory…its this Satrianic prowess that led me into playing for a GOOD band in Hyderabad (my adopted home!!)…so a couple of Metallica albums later I was ready to sell my soul to the devil and in exchange have him teach me to play the guitar. Yeah let’s say, that didn’t work out too good!!! But tension not, I still have the comp geek option…only now it seemed less of an option and more of a compulsion.

The funny thing is that while career options whizzed past me…my folks were certain that if not PJ, their son was gonna pull off a Bill Gates!! So after I screwed my ISC, I waltzed to Mumbai, actually more like stuck my head between my legs and hoped no utensils hurled at me actually got to me and I moved in with my dad. Coupled with rotten luck and good PR, my dad got me into Fr. “Angels”. For those of you who know what its like out here, I actually told my dad that if I were to study in Mumbai, I wasn’t gonna study in any D J Sanghvi or RAIT (D Y Patil)….they’re names didn’t quite appeal to me…I was gonna study only in Fr. “Angel”. Yeah, “be careful what you wish for, it just might come true”….Congrats, you got into “Angels”…and just as I was Ho Ho Ho’ing to myself…..he added, but there is a catch, they’ve put you in the Mechanical Department….WHAT??? I don’t want to become a mechanic daddy….no it’ll be fine. We’ll ensure you get a switch….yeah and here I am a computer engineer…. NOT.

At first I wasted a lot of time believing that I’d get into the AC’d labs of the Comp Dept, but come my first KT and I was stuck with Mechanical ad infinitum.

I tried being positive “may be I’ll head Mercedes’ truck division one day” and then I’ll sit atop a 100 crores!!! Or maybe just work my brains out for a 40….I wisely chose the latter.

The past 7 semesters went by with a few more “ambitions”, being a music journalist was one of them, I gave it a shot. I sent my friend, a music magazine sub-editor an article I wrote; he hasn’t spoken to me ever since!!

I’m 22, my folks expect me to share the load….but don’t I have to do my MS first, says I ….you’re on your own on this one laddie, says daddy!! So as I hurtle between things I hope I find my true calling…hopefully sooner than later!!! But you know I must admit, when I see people who have it all sorted for them…I find it a tad mundane!! So maybe there is a purpose for the delay!!!

As of now I just want to focus on being an ambidextrous Kung Fu fighting China man…yeah I see that happening!!!

Bakwas