So I got out of a comedy exam and bumped into Sion outside the union room. He had seen me before the exam too, and asked how it went, and i told him that i thought there was a Random-ass question.

"The first act is ingenious, the second is beautiful, and the third abominably clever." Comment on the plot structure of The Importance of Being Earnest with reference to the critic's views ( or something on the lines of that ). You know, What KIND of a question is that.

To which he replies saying, "Actually, i don't know about the plot structure, but i can definitely comment on the critic. He's homosexual."


I'm quite a Sion fan, i must say, and things like this just make me feel better about it.

stoned musings on a theatrical night

अरे मार देंगे, हिला देंगे, जला देंगे साली दुनिया |  यह जोश ही काफी है, दिखा देंगे दुनिया |

If there's no other way to get rich in this life, i will write a book documenting the situations my dad gets into, and his reactions to each of them. I remember writing a post about the omni getting sold off not too long ago. Now, water has flown under the bridge and a Santro has taken its place in the parking lot under the house. My mum is indifferent, i still prefer the khatara, but my dad, it must be said, has fallen head over heals for the new car. It's his dream machine. "A Grey Santro with a red doctor's sign looks like a car with standard," is his modest opinion. ( the 'modest' is sarcasm. Don't be fooled by words, you should see his expression when he says 'standard'.)

And Of Course, it had to happen.

The car had just been parked outside Mocambo, and my dad had just entered the restaurant when, apparently, a drunk young gentleman behind the wheel of a Tata Sumo smashed straight into the car. There was nothing of the front left headlight left ( left headlight left, haah) , nor most of the bonnet.

Also, my dad asked me to sleep in his room that night.

In reality, it really irks me, this weird Affection for this inanimate object. His obsession with the car is Unimaginable. Or not so unimaginable. But I also remembered something he had said the First time the omni got a scratch. He said, "You know, every time there's a scratch on the car, there is a dent in my heart"

The aww-fulness of the situation sometimes does get to me.
But i daresay, his heart must be Really deformed right now.

There’s a little bit of a craving somewhere. I don’t understand. I can hear the clicks of my fingers on the keyboard and the especially clicky sound of the space bar, and i can hear little girls go ring-a ring-a roses downstairs. I can also hear the blades of the fan, they make a sort of sound scape with the air around them. The faster the blades move, the more whirly the sound gets.  I think i can hear my stomach but i’m not sure. What i Do know for sure, is that I love the peace after madness. 


Maybe that’s why i love the madness so much, for this peace.

Fetched from the ruins.

Photos from about a year back, and it Just caught my eye. As you will soon realise, this could not have been co-ordinated. And Priyanka Kumar is talented in many, many ways. It's true.

Poetry, sweet Poetry.

Yahaan bhi hoga, wahaan bhi hoga.

Ab toh saare jahaan mein hoga.
Kya?

Tera hi jalwa.

Alright, to the rhythm and the beats so high

Tera jalwa jalwa hai right

To the rock and roll from mine.

Say hi to Johnny

I think dreams are just some kind of a mean joke played on humanity by god. And that little moment, when you've woken up, but you're still half-dreaming, so you're still believing those things in your head when you can see the ceiling fan, that's the part when god starts rolling on the floor.

I had a dream where i was Johnny Bravo. With green round glasses instead of black. And my twelve inch biceps. Saying "Whoa momma." And it seemed perfectly logical, everything. In honour of the dream, i have decided that Johnny shall now be an integral part of this page.