Thursday, October 26, 2006

Confessions

I believe I have a personal relationship with God
That’s why I feel like I’m going through hell
It isn’t easy walking the high road
And being reminded of every time I fell

I believe each one of us thinks he’s unique
That’s why we’re all the same
Everyone has a story to tell
We all need someone to blame

I believe we know what we want even before asking for advice
What we listen to is what we already feel
All that’s needed is someone to agree
Just lend a confirmatory seal

I believe we appreciate honesty because we all tell lies
We’re not even true when we’re alone
I’m sure no one even tries
Just one of the effects of having grown

I believe I met her by chance
I know I loved her by choice
But I really don’t know when I stopped
When our conversations became melancholy noise

I believe you really know you’ve had a good life
If you can smile while you’re dying
But by then maybe you don’t have a say
By then you might just compromise

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

Poem Of The Week # 6

To Quorra

Soft skinned girl walk a little slowly
There’s a song I wrote when I was lonely
Sit beside me, not too far
I’ll untie a melody from the strings of my guitar
Listen to me…
Please do not judge
You really don’t have to rush
I’ll pick up the tempo if you’re getting late
You hum along.
We’d be great.
I’ll show you pictures in the bright blue sky
I’ll tell tall tales
Don’t mind if I lie
We’ll stroll along on the pristine sand
And dwell under nature’s succulent hand

You have places to go, I must do my chores
But cannot resist the ocean’s lures
I’d love to stay a little while
With a strong wave’s crest
Exchange a smile
There might be times when I won’t say much
Too many words make sentences seem rushed
But the swaying trees tell many a story
Of people who came and went before me
We’ll sit and watch the children dancing
In our elated minds let their laughter ring


On the ride home there’s swirling color
An orange sky, over turquoise water
A lonely sun would want to have found
Solace among the multitude of clouds
I’ll cling to the vision
I’ll try to listen
Surely that’s good enough for one evening

I won’t search for comfort on rocky ground
In surreal silence I won’t long for sound
I’ll not write down thoughts, if you would listen
I won’t stare at the sun, hoping he’ll see
When he doesn’t have a reason to look at me.

Friday, July 28, 2006

Poem Of The Week # 5

Listening to a Shimmering Dream

As night spreads her starry blanket on me
I shut my shifty eyes to see
A sparkling river under glistening skies
Among magic marshmallow trees and golden ryes
Amidst the fluttering of wings she sensuously sings
The little girl with the sun in her eyes

She had crimson cheeks and gold in her hair
And a sparkling jar of honey she said I could share
And I lay with others to listen to her songs
With deer and antelopes with squiggly horns
With Captain Milky and the gingerbread man
And the Chinese guy with a quaint hand fan

I felt then I wanted to run
And tell the story to the orange sun
Faster and higher said the droplets in my veins
So quick I drowned out the bells in my brains
Well a smiling cloud then said to me
You run away from what you wished would be

So I open my eyes to find a glowing night
High on a cliff over the Arab sea
With a multitude moving to a torrent of sound
And the lights…
Lights were supposed to brighten my ground
And lead me home by getting rid of the dark
But all they do is call me to stay
And confuse me on this circular path

What I need to do is now in sight
I will not lose if I do not fight
I needn’t search, they’ll find me
And loosen these luminous knots
Ill just follow till I can find
The paradise I left behind
And tell the bustling ride to stop
Near the girl
The girl who tasted like a raindrop.

Monday, July 17, 2006

The Adventure at Malshej Ghat

Pre Trip Blues:

Hemant mailed one day saying that he wants to spend his birthday in Bombay. More specifically in a place called Malshej Ghat, which according to him was just an hour and half from Mumbai, blah blah, 3600 mts above sea level, blah blah, etc, etc. He also said that he will be stopping over at Goa to gear up for this small trip of ours. That was the sweetest thing that he could tell me. So the orders were placed by one and all for whatever they might require. But then circumstances, god knows who makes them up, but yes, circumstances made all my good friends drop out one by one. Dal said that he had to study and Herman said that he had no money. This cheesed me off a bit because whenever I make the plans it never materializes, no matter how hard I try. So in the end it so happened that Hemant and me were the only people who went.
So on D-day Hemant reached Lokmanya Tilak Terminus and gave me a call, “Dude where the f@#* are you. I have only 50 bucks on me. Get some money and your arse to Bandra. That’s the only place I know in Bombay!!”
Wow! I thought to myself. So there I was with a lot of explaining to do when my mom asked me where exactly I was going with the huge bag and my cheque book. The huge bag contained my 2.1 speakers that would provide the only entertainment out there and the of course the cheque book was our only means of getting to our desired destination.
Finally we left from Bandra, catching a train to Dadar and then changing over to the central line to catch a train to Kalyan. From Kalyan we had to take a rickety, old State Transport (S.T.) bus only to dump it an hour later because our legs were paining from the standing. Somewhere in the middle of nowhere we stuck out our hands and a considerate and drunk truck driver gave us a lift till the top of the mountain. Thank god he did that coz the view on either side was so breath taking that we thought we died and went to heaven. If ever there was a heaven in Maharashtra, I guess it would be here.
Finally after paying the driver 40 bucks and a peg of whiskey, we got off at the M.T.D.C. resort only to be driven away by the dearth of rooms. So we took a small trek after finding a few locals, who acted as our guides, and ended up at a homely lodge called the 'Nisarga Lodge'. It was situated in a picturesque part of the ghats, surrounded by lush green valleys. After eating some local food the inevitable took place. At 2100 hours our trip began.

The Trip:

Can’t say much here, can I? It’s different for everyone. I was told that the first time, and it holds true every time I’ve done it. This time I started off in Goa at a rave, with my surroundings turning around and the walls moving back and forth and all this while changing color. There was a purple and a violet and green and pink. There I was moving among strings floating around. The walls were moving into me by now and I knew I was doomed. Doomed to have another trip for sure. All I could hear was screaming, reptiles abounding. Only to realize, it was the rain that was lashing into the window and the figures were nothing but the peeling plaster of the walls. Then as I was about to lie down, Hemant comes in to roll a joint and starts complaining about how he needs alcohol to kick off his trip. We pufed up and then he left me to lay back and fade away into my own wilderness. Trance was still playing the background, a few drunken guys in the neighboring rooms were getting louder than the music. I went to check it out and found Hemant really happy as they had what he was craving for --- ALCOHOL. It doesn’t matter where it comes from as long as it’s there. Thats when it began: I started puking everything that i had inside. Was it the people we had just met or the food or something else, still remains a mystery. That triggered a chain reaction among the drunken people too. After half an hour, I was feling much better, where as the other's weren't. Kicking myself for having come out I enter back into my liar to lie absolutely still before repeating the entire sequence of events agin. At this point I thaught I was in some dream. In the middle I went out to check out the weather and chill out along with it. That's when I found Hemant standing bare chested braving or should I say fighting the rain and the wind and the cold and whatever he was feeling at that time. Hope he writes down his account of that night soon so that I can post that up too out here (I also want to do a sort of research on other people's trips). Yeah, one more point worth mentioning: It was Hemant’s b’day that night. Our last J was smoked around the time when image image 5 was clicked, where the two of us struggling to hold that sweatshirt in place for the snap. I don't know why Hemant was so persistant in doing just that. The pic's come out pretty neat for that situation. That was also the time when we decided to stay awake for sunrise and click a few pics. The trip doesn't end there but goes onto 0930 when I decided to venture out back into reality .The rest has to be imagined folks because I ain't that good a writer (if that wasn't obvious by now) to put everything I saw and felt down. All I can say is that my trip ended with a strong urge and desire for my innerself to be in Barcelona. I don't know why that happened or if I'll ever get there but that feeling was very strong.
There are a few pics put up and some more will be put up soon, I promise. And these pics ARE definately worth more than a thousand words for us.







Image 2: To have or not have was never the question.







Image 3: Wasted! totally wasted! (I also feel the need to wax!)








Image 4: Two men totally lost. One excited at the prospect. The other wondering what the fuck was he doing out there.








Image 5: 'Manipal - Inspired by Dope' The place where it all started. Fuck knows when's it gonna end.





Post Trip Hues:

Hemant wanted me to stay awake till sunrise but suddenly our roles reversed. He fell asleep and I couldn’t even though my entire trip was spent hallucinating on the bed. “You must live your life to the fullest!” cried out the drunk from the other room, whom we had actually help get to his room the previous night. Giving him the thumbs up and a fake grin I proceeded to see the sunrise while Hemant snored away in the room. Then I realized that there was the World Cup Finals that night and we were a good distance away from TV and beer. So I woke Hemant up, asked the room service to get us breakfast and then bid adieu to the lodge and it’s inhabitants. It was around 10 when we left the lodge and when we caught the S.T. bus back it was around 12. Two hours of walking among the waterfalls, drunken men of all shapes and sizes had got us very tired. I was woken up with a jolt, and found out that we had reached Murbad, a place that was just an hour away from Kalyan. But just when our bus entered the depot, there was news that the Shiv Sainiks had created ‘dangal’ (riots in Marathi) in most parts of Mumbai. So here we stranded with 1000 (or maybe more – who bothers counting) other passengers, all held at ransom by hoodlums who play themselves into the hands of politicians. Finally after 4 hours of waiting and cursing, we set out again, our co-passengers in obvious fear and panic. The only 2 people chilling out were Hemant and me. Reached home at 2130 hours took a bath, ate some of mommy’s cooking and immediately set out to watch Italy trounce France’s ass on penalties. That’s another adventure, maybe not worth writing about. For now, just hoping you guys liked this one.





Image 6: Still Buzzing. Still wondering.









Image 7: "I am the lizard King. Yet I can't do everything."

Friday, July 14, 2006

Poem Of The Week # 4

Escape

I'm waiting for you
to go Insane.
No excuses, no reasons,
No cold Rain
Leave aside hunger
Leave aside pain
Don't look at me in wonder
Come , join in the game
Go Insane.

In my world there are no boundaries
In my world I am King
All my battles end in victories
In my world I own everything
The lights I see are blinding
Constant ringing in my brain
Take a peak, put your head outside
The window on a crazy train
Go Insane.

Lose control of your senses
Wonder, "What is the time?"
The time is now to leave behind
whatever you didn't find.
Do what you want to do
see what you want to see
and Listen to NOBODY.

Don't fight what's coming over you
Enjoy the untamed
All else will have to wait for you
Or fuck themselves
You're not to blame

See your mind fly away
Feel a burning flame
Of the rules we'll make a mockery
Lets all , go insane

I'm waiting for you to join me
I'm waiting for you
To go insane

Monday, July 10, 2006

Finally....someone who thinks like me..!!!

My Mom and Dad
My mom and my dad are not what they seem.
Their dull appearance is part of their scheme.
I know of their plans. I know their techniques.
My parents are outer space alien freaks!

They landed on earth in spaceships humongous.
Posing as grownups, they now walk among us.
My parents deny this, but I know the truth.
They're here to enslave me and spoil my youth.

Early each morning, as the sun rises,
Mom and dad put on their earthling disguises.
I knew right away their masks weren't legit.
Their faces are lined - they sag and don't fit.

The earth's gravity makes them sluggish and slow.
They say not to run, wherever I go.
They live by the clock.
They're slaves to routines.

They work the year 'round. They're almost machines.
They deny that TV and fried food have much worth.
They cannot be human. They're not of this earth.
cannot escape their alien gaze,
And they're warping my mind with their alien ways.
For sinister plots, this one is a gem.
They're bringing me up to turn me into them!
-- Bill Watterson

Friday, July 07, 2006

Poem of the Week # 3

Beautiful Mother, Tormented Child

Does mindless noise emit from pure melody?
Can beautiful love cause wretched agony?
What would a strong burly oak spread below?
Soothing Shade,
Or desperate darkness.
Does bitter fruit spring from a plant looked after?

Then how am I yours?

Beautiful Mother, Tormented Child

To your lustrous hope I bring dark despair,
To undying faith I give unerring deceit,
To sweet mutterings, growling refusal.

Am I still yours?

Beautiful Mother, Tormented Child

The road you pave has many pretty turns,
I cannot wait even if your heart burns
Starry lights and a velvet sky
Your roads are rough
I can’t walk, I’ll fly.
My spotless moon, my house of ivory
I’ll keep you in a distant memory.

Beautiful Mother, Tormented Child

Can I come back and tell you my fears?
My own thoughts bring me tears
My spotless moon is black throughout
Every move is filled with doubt
A sultry sun burns my wing
I can’t fly,
I’m falling…….

Can I still ask you to pick up pieces?
A shattered dream, a selfish Jesus
Will blurred vision spin a fresh destiny?
Would wrinkled hands still sculpt a happy story?

Beautiful Mother, Tormented Child.

Thursday, July 06, 2006

S.C.O.F.F. Analysis: Quarter's & Semi's

Quarter 3: England 1 v Portugal 3

I’m sure all English fans would agree by now. It’s a relief this team is out. I’ve never been a supporter of the English but they usually displayed a lot of grit and spirit in precious competitions. Will never forget the Owen goal against Argentina in 98 and the way they fought the German’s in a losing cause in 90. This team quite frankly was a disgrace. Badly coached, over-hyped and definitely more intent on off field celebrity. Its unfortunate that they’ll now come up with an excuse to how Rooney was unfairly sent off. My question why was he on the field in the first place. He maybe tomorrows superstar but you don’t win the world cup because of 1 half fit player. All the hype had to go to his head and he’s pushed himself and England out of their misery. It’s unfortunate the likes of Terry, Stevie G, Rio and the Coles who actually have the ability to live up to the hype, are out. Portugal’s Figo showed class and age don’t have any connection. While Ronaldo finally decided to play for the team came up with the goods. Yeah the diving etc. has surely given the conspiracy theorist some more ammo but face it guys this kid can play.

S.C.O.F.F Man of the Match: The Portuguese had a lot of good displays but the way Ricardo scared the famed Englishmen in the penalties has to give him the prize. Special mention of Owen Hargreaves on the English side.

S.C.O.F.F Moron of the Match: Wayne Rooney closely beats out Beckham. C’mon Becks we know you’re a sissy. Why don’t you start a talk show about emotional hardships of the metro-sexuals? Leave the football to the real men.

Quarter 4: France 1 v Brazil 0

The old adage stands true. 11 stars don’t make a team. France had a purpose and the fire to win this game. The likes of Thuram and Viera showed that class is permanent while Zizou reminded us that he is the best player of his generation. Feel sorry for Ronaldinho who had a bad Cup but I’d blame it on the coach’s insistence to play him and Kaka together which crowded both of them out. And will someone please tell Ronaldo to get a different life if he’s not interested in football. The guy must have been a hero sometime ago but it’s well and truly yesterday. Some things never change. Who exactly was supposed to be marking Henry when he scored? Well it’s Brazil. They don’t defend. Defending is for mortals.

S.C.O.F.F Man of the Match: Zinedine Zidane. The maestro is back. Not for long though. This probably is one final slap in the face for all those who think anyone else who played football over the past few years can be compared to him. Ronnie is his successor but the old man still can teach the new kid a few lessons.

S.C.O.F.F Moron of the Match: He says we love to hate him and that he’s unfairly criticized. Look at your contribution this WC Ronaldo.3 goals against weakling opposition and those too could have been scored by amateur wheel chair footballers.


Semi-Final 1: Italy 2 Germany 0

Definitely no one deserved to lose this one. Germany spurred on by a 60000+ crowd took time but came strongly at the Italians. The Italians though look to be trying to erase the negative image of their football hit right back. Led by the imperious captain Canna, who I think is the front runner for the Golden Ball this time. The Italians allowed the German’s just 2 shots on target while creating 10 for themselves and also hitting the post twice. Credit to the young Mertesacker and Metzelder who looked brilliant defending for Germany. I think it was won in the midfield though were Pirlo aided by his trusty sidekick Gattuso were absolutely everywhere Ballack and co. tried to go. Italy knew they had to win it on the pitch after seeing the German penalties against Argentina. They ended up with 4 strikers on field and the goal came from a left back who was in the opposition penalty area for a corner. Pirlo played an immaculate pass that was met with a stupendous first time finish by Grosso. The goal that broke the German wall, Del Piero finally showed his fabled finishing prowess on a counter soon after when the Germans left everyone forward. A game worthy of the final. Unfortunately one team had to say goodbye.

S.C.O.F.F Man of the Match: Lot of great performances but Buffon kept Italy in it with a sensational save right at the end. That made the difference in the end.

S.C.O.F.F Moron of the Match: The German team behaved admirably during and after the game but some of the German fans came out screaming that the Italians didn’t deserve to win and that they’d root against them in the finals. Real class guys.

Semi-Final 2: France 1 v Portugal 0

We knew this would be the final game for one of the two original Galacticos. Unfortunately the game descended into a series of fouls and dives all over the pitch. Another game has been decided on a controversial penalty and another losing team complains that they were not given a PK. I guess its time for everyone to grow up and realize its part of the game. If the referee does his best at separating the dives from the fouls that’s more than we can ask for. France looked tired after the exploits against Brazil. With Zizou nowhere close to his best and Henry just up there for nuisance value the French had to depend on Gallas, Thuram and Makalele to clean u any possible mess which they did admirably. The Portuguese ought to learn that if they keep falling to the ground even if an opponent just breathes on them their bound to lose decisions n the long run. France will surely pull up their socks and we hope for a cracker of a finale.

S.C.O.F.F Man of the Match: Liliam Thuram. He’s one of the greatest defenders of his time. A real rock at the back today.

S.C.O.F.F Moron of the Match: Pauleta. If Portugal had a classy striker this game was theirs.

Friday, June 30, 2006

Poem of the week #2

Thank you for the breakdown

Our enshrouded arrival
Greeted by unwelcome watchers.

We’ll search for our broken bench;
We’ll remind each other what happened
And realize discreetly how our lives are a little shorter

My wishful eye watches the child’s play
I would too, on another day
The sun dips lower as we welcome Apollo to the ceremony.
Mundane discussions whittle away time till all is in place,
Chaffed, crushed n curled
Into our symbol of peace.
Smoked essence of a wasted earth
Firmly grip our groping minds.
As I lean back and watch, you’d still prefer being seven and on that slide

It’s not hard to listen at the same time.
To you,
And a whispering solitude,
Both companions for anytime.

My glazed eyes look up to a moving flock of birds.
They travel across a purple sky,
Too hurried to listen to reasonable words.
Myriad journeymen chasing a fantasy,
Against a backdrop of a disinterested cloud
Either uninvited or just too proud
Unlike us,
Involuntary parts of a visionless crowd.

After a deeper breath, a silent plea to the skies
Over petty differences let us rise
With therapeutic drops of water bind our battered souls
Almighty potter make us whole

Thank you for being a face I can speak to
For coloring my life in a different hue
An outlet to a recluse

We’ll walk away to the cricket’s chirp
And you’ll tell stories to fill me with mirth
To last me the night as I wait for sunrise
Golden hour when no one cries.

Thursday, June 29, 2006

Brazil stands a chance, Thanks to Numerology

Check this out. A chap at work showed it to me. Just hoping it's not copyrighted. Herman's gonna be happy at the end of it.

"Know Something interesting about FIFA world cup
Brazil won the world cup in 1994. Before that, they had won this title for the last time in 1970. If you add up: 1970 + 1994= 3964

Argentina won the world cup forthe last time in 1986. Before that only in 1978.
And 1978 + 1986 = 3964

Germany, though, won the world cup in 1990. Before that, Germany won in 1974.
Look: 1990 + 1974 = 3964

This could lead us to guess the winner of the World Cup in 2002, since it should be the winner of the 1962 World Cup (In fact 3964 - 2002 = 1962). And Brazil won the world cup in 1962! (And,, Brazil won the 2002 WC)

This numerology seemsto work...
And now, who would bethe winner of the 2006 world cup?
Let's see, 3964 - 2006= 1958
And who won in 1958?....

Oh, Brazil did!!!"

What do i make of it?
These things are absolute B.S. The title's going to the Argentian vs Germany winner.

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

S.C.O.F.F. Analysis: Round of 16

Pre Quarter 1 Germany 2 Sweden 0

Blitzkreig. Quite frankly Sweden didn’t know what hit them. The Germans came out n went straight for Swedish throats. Miroslav Klosedidn’t score but linked brilliantly with “Prinz” Podolski to create two goals for “De Mannschaft”. There’s been a suspicion that Sweden had a soft defense and the German’s just proved it. Once Lucic got himself an idiotic red he practically buries the Swedes. Herm, Dal n Aj had a lot riding on Lehmann conceding to save our money but even Larsson seemed defeated by the time he got a chance at a penalty. Ibrahimovic frankly was just disappointing. German’s had shooting practice for over an hour before the ref finally decided to stop the farce. Special mention about Isakson; the Swedish goalie. He was the difference between 2-0 and a double figure score line.

S.C.O.F.F. man of the match: Podolski . The German wonder kid is back.



S.C.O.F.F. moron of the match: All the Swedes excepting Isakkson n Tobias Linderoth who didnt seem to give in till the end. But for his
stupidity: Teddy Lucic.

Pre Quarter 2: Argentina 2 Mexico 1

One of the games of the tournament. Mexico showed that football’s played on the pitch and not on paper. Argentina were a goal down and really should have been a man down but Heinze got away with a penalty. The Light Blues got back though and the game ebbed and flowed into extra time where Maxi Rodriguez showed the difference between a good team and a great team. Watch this guy folks. Here’s a star for the future. The win sets up what should be the match of the tournament with Argentina taking on the in-form hosts.

S.C.O.F.F. man of the match: Rodriguez . Cometh the hour, cometh the man. What a goal. Argentina seems to be finding heroes from all over the field.

S.C.O.F.F. moron of the match: No one deserved this. But I’d pick Heinze for being the obvious weak link in the argentine defense.

Pre Quarter 3: England 1 Ecuador 0

Yawn. Ya England turned up. Packed their midfield and left Rooney alone up front. But guys you were playing Ecuador!!! Beckham played on the right and scored a goal .Yawn. England put Gerrard up in an attacking position. Yawn . Of course it was very tough on the players because zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Let’s just skip to the next match.

S.C.O.F.F man of the match: Me. I sat through the entire thing. Dominic’s love of the team also has to be mentioned. He actually said England was peaking after watching this.

S.C.O.F.F. moron of the match: Sven Goran Eriksson. This guy might be the idiot of the WC guys. What the hell is going on in his head? Real Madrid wants him as their next coach. Huh ????

Pre Quarter 4: Portugal 1 Netherlands 0

Someone once said that football has replaced war in our world. Well that sure is true. Fists flying, head butting, feet kicking, this had everything. A WC record number of cards. There was a goal among the chaos though.

But while watching a couple of questions:

1. Everyone’s saying the referee should have been more lenient and used more common sense. But aren’t the referees acting on FIFA’s strict orders to clamp down on any potentially dangerous play?

2. What in the world was Deco thinking when he threw away that ball hoping to waste time, hence getting himself a card?

3. What’s happening with Rudd van Nistelrooy? He was one of the world’s best strikers till two months ago. Suddenly, no one wants him in his team.

S.C.O.F.F man of the match: I really donno guys . But since Maniche scored the goal, let’s give it to him.

S.C.O.F.F. moron of the match: Sep Blatter. After proudly announcing his new stricter rules he’s now saying the referees are incompetent. Bravo Blatter, Bravo FIFA.

Pre Quarter 5: Italy 1 Australia 0

Trust the Italians to rake up controversy. Hiddink decided to pack his mid-field and rush and harry the Italians, never enjoy having less space. It resulted in more possession but Italy did have the better chances. Toni really should have finished those off for a striker of his caliber. Gillardinho on the other hand seems to have forgotten that a striker needs to continuously make runs to create opportunities. Del Piero provided Italian fans with another stale display. The game took a decisive turn when Marco “the matrix” Materazzi was unfairly sent off. But Hiddink inexplicably seemed to be waiting for extra time. With just5 seconds on the clock Fabio Grosso made a run which Italian fans have been hoping for from him during this WC. He did seem to deliberately fall over Lucas Neill. Although he clearly played for a penalty I personally think it was since he obviously outwitted the otherwise brilliant Neill. You don’t slide in the penalty box mate. Heartbreak for the socceroos though.

S.C.O.F.F man of the match: My man Gattusso. If passion could win you a WC Gattusso’d be walking home champion already. If you need someone to play in a tough situation when you’re life depends on it, here’s the man. Buffon also deserves a mention

S.C.O.F.F. moron of the match: Tim Cahill. He’s said that the referees in the cup have all been biased against Australia. Does anyone who’s seen Australia’s previous 3 games know what he’s talking about. This from the guy who was advocating Marco the matrix to be sent off for that tackle. The Aussies are not sore losers mate. Stop spoiling it for the rest of your teammates.

Pre Quarter 6: Switzerland 0 Ukraine0 (Ukraine win 3-0 on penalties)

All of us expected it to be a lackluster match and frankly it was. Though both teams tried playing open football tiredness certainly affected both. Guess they just cancelled out each other. Schevchenko continues his pathetic penalty form( hope it extends to the rest of his game since he’s now joining Chelsea) The Swiss though were even worse and would not have scored if the Ukranian goalie was replaced by a 3^rd post in the middle of goal. But kudos to this young team who seemingly will be a threat at the Euros next time.

S.C.O.F.F man of the match: Oleksander Schovchovsky. Kept his nerve between the sticks. Didn’t have to do much else.

S.C.O.F.F. moron of the match: The organizers. Why don’t they allow streakers onto the pitch during such games?

Pre-Quarter 7: Brazil 3 Ghana 0

The best part of this match was that Herman lost money again. Ghana as everyone knew was here to win hearts rather than football games. The Africans matched Brazil in style and skill throughout the game but again, poor finishing let them down. This team with a world class striker could have taken anybody to the cleaners. Ghana predictably kept attacking Brazil who again look very suspect in their defense. Ronaldo by the way managed a goal making him the world cups highest aggregate goal getter. If only someone could instill more discipline in these talented Africans who seemed intent on committing suicide.

S.C.O.F.F Man of the Match: Ronaldo – He was patchy and seems well past his best ,but is now the highest aggregate scorer at the WC. Still good enough to kick your everyday defenders butt though.

S.C.O.F.F moron: The linesman who gave the second goal inspite of the offside and left the brave Ghanaians in a hopeless situation.


Pre-Quarter 8: Spain 1 France 3

We all thought France were an aging team. With midfield superstars of yesterday, a phenomenal striker who just couldn’t get it right on the big stage and a coach who looked more like a composer for an orchestra. It’s probably true. When Spain, one of the form teams of the tourney thus far took the lead we thought France was dead. But these guys showed us they have one last fight left in them with a tremendous display. Sparked off by a brilliant goal by “Scarface” Ribery the team overturned the form book to clinch a lace against Brazil in the quarters. Going by what happened Brazil better be worried. Ajay finally managed to beat Shazeb at the betting game too which spells new hope for the rest of us (Not Herman. That dude’s going down). Viva Franca.

S.C.O.F.F Man of the Match: Zinedine Zidane. There’s still fight left in the greatest midfielder of our times and he reminded us exactly that.

S.C.O.F.F moron: Aj, Dal n Shaxeb for laughing at Herman when he chose Zidane as one of his players in the betting team.

Monday, June 26, 2006

Quote for 26/06/06

I hate mankind, for I think myself one of the best of them, and I know how bad I am.
- Joseph Baretti

Friday, June 23, 2006

Poem Of The Week # 1

Angels deserve to Cry

Don’t weep little one, I’ll take you home.
Somebody’s waiting on the other side of Rome.
You’ve lived in a house of cards too long.
One breath of fresh air has proved you wrong.
Let Him show you what you didn’t do right.
What have you left? Why do you fight?
Can’t you see? You’re emotionally impaired.
You couldn’t feel the light even if you stared.
Even the best laid plans are sometimes foiled.
You’ll be reminded not to regret, what you have spoiled.
There were many like you, all I have helped.
With golden letters in heaven, my name is spelt.
You’ll be charred and cleansed and then put correct.
In the end like me you’ll have no defect.

No white angel. Let me stay.
I haven’t reached the end of my way.
I have enemies to find, friends to lose,
So much to learn that my mind is confused.
Let me gather the embers of a broken soul.
Even God couldn’t make me whole.
Burnt offerings are now no longer the fad.
Else he could’ve kept all that I’ve had.

Why don’t you instead take a ride with me?
Misery always did love company.
Don’t you see? You’re the one incomplete.
You can’t savor victory till you taste defeat.
You’ve met others you say, who were worthless ore.
He’s melted each one and now has pure gold.
But all you’ve achieved is the killing of choice.
Listen to me. Find you’re voice.

“Dust thou art and to dust thou shall return.”
But along the way a few lyrics you’ll learn.
Of you’re sorrows and fears you can then sing.
Let a bitter symphony in your mind ring.

You then decide,
Because you laughed
And you also cried.
Then once we know,
We both will go.

Thursday, June 22, 2006

S.C.O.F.F. Song of the Month



What would u do if I told u the truth,
Would u go out and buy stuff for me.
Beg-borrow-steal is the name of the deal,
Coz my money doesn’t grow on the tree.
Oh I’m gonna buy with a lil help from my friends,
Mmm ill get a ride with a lil help from my friends,
Finally ill get high, Bless all my friends.

What do u do to get love every day?
I just stare and I drool and I stone.
How do u feel by the end of the day?
A lil desperate and definitely blown.
Yeah, I got high with a lil help from my friends,
I first tried with a lil help from my friends,
I’m gonna die thanks to all my friends.

Do you believe in a love at first sight?
Yes, no matter who, where or what time.
What do u see when u turn out the light?

Just me and mine, in a rhyme.
Damn I got high with a lil help from my friends,
I got high with guess? Yeah! My friends,
You should also try, chill! Ill call my frieeeeeends.

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

World Cup Updates - S.C.O.F.F. Style

It's been a rollicking start to the World Cup and I know we’ve begun this a little late but here’s to the daily world cup update coupled with the antics of the s.c.o.f.f.

*9 June*: It all begun with great anticipation. We’ve been waiting for this day for quite a long time and seriously everyone’s sick of Willy’s constant sms countdown to the WC. Anyways Germany managed a good win in an entertaining game - probably signals a lot of goals in this particular edition of the cup.

On the home front Willy’s t.v. isn’t working ( he seems flabbergasted ) and that means the boys can’t have their football parties at his place( would have been tough with his mom around ) But there’s always plan B.

* *

*June 10:* *England** 1-Paraguay 0*

Dominic’s been screaming out England’s praises since the end of the season back in May. We met up at IC colony to catch the match. Captain Kinni accommodated us for the day. England begun in style against a Paraguay that looked shell-shocked after a 3^rd minute own-goal by their captain. Beckham seems to have been spending as much time practicing these set pieces as on his hairstyle. Stevie G, our favorite Liverpool laddie produced a brilliant performance in defensive midfield blocking at least 4 or 5 goal bound efforts. Joe Cole tried a few step-overs and Ferdinand looked really assured while for once Beckham played better than he looked. Ashley Cole, meanwhile, looked love struck (maybe his impending marriage seems to be weighing on his mind) and managed to lose the ball in dangerous situations. Terry doesn’t seem to find pushing over international defenders as easy as he does with Chelsea and Frank Lampard looked sleepy till he decided to actually put on his boots and take a few shots at goal.

For Paraguay Santa Cruz was disappointing and their best player was Nelson Valdez (wonder if Aj’s gonna try and experiment with a similar goatee some time down the line).Overall the most boring match of the WC to date. To top it off, the English cry-babies have been complaining about the heat. C’mon guys the rest of the teams don’t play in air-conditioned stadiums. What next, the angle of the grass, the color of the goal-post???

*S.C.O.F.F man of the match-* David Beckham (I can see all the girls and Herman very happy about seeing a Beckham picture today)




*S.C.O.F.F. screw-up –* Carlos Gamarra – sorry but scoring a self-goal when you are captain doesn’t inspire confidence


*Trinidad & Tobago 0 - Sweden 0*

Upset of the cup so far. Trinidad’s come here with, what is on paper, the worst team to land at the WC till date. To top it off they lost a key defender the day before the match and lost their goalie, Kelvin Jack, during the pre-game warm-ups. But Shaka Hislop stepped in, and what a performance. Against the likes of Larsson, Ibrahimovic, Ljunberg and Willhelmsson the Trinidadians looked like schoolboys. They managed to keep getting the ball away through a mixture of luck and desperate lunges. But slowly the Swedes started getting frustrated .Even after Avery John was sent-off they just couldn’t break down the Caribbean defense. Sweden’s coach seems to have made a mistake not playing Kim Kallstrom from the start. He threw on 4 forwards at the end but unfortunately the best chances fell to Allback who really should have scored not once but twice. We look forward to the Trinidadians infuriating the star-studded English cranky-army next. (Hope Becks doesn’t mind other players having flashier hairstyles on the field)

* *

*S.C.O.F.F man of the match-* The whole Trinidad team really but if we had to pick one

Shaka Hislop

*S.C.O.F.F. screw-up-* Easy Marcus Allback- If you ask me Aj would have put in those chances. Aj also has a better hair-cut

* *

*Argentina** 2- Ivory Coast 1*

Expected to be the match of the first round and lived up to its billing. The Ivorians definitely were pumped up. Unfortunately they just seemed too intent on powering their way through. Aj, Dal n Dom were pretty drunk by now and Kinni’s place suddenly seemed more comfortable. Crespo showed he’s a master poacher and is being wasted at Chelsea with a wonderful piece of opportunism. The goal was applauded of course , but I wonder why Aj decided shouting anti-Shiv Sena slogans was appropriate at the time. The Ivorians hit back but again couldn’t seem to stop hitting people in the crowd with their attempts at goal. Saviola then converted a brilliant pass by Riquelme underlining the difference between the sides. More applause, more anti-Shiv Sena slogans and Dom’s cue to go to sleep. Admirably Drogba, who’s been everybody’s favorite punching bag, didn’t let his team give up and pulled one back but it really was too late.

*S.C.O.F.F man of the match-* There were a lot of great performances on the blue and white side but for the character and spirit he showed- Didier Drogba



*S.C.O.F.F. screw-up-* Dominic D’silva – It is not cool to ask drunk people who have slept at 3 in the morning to leave by 6-30 (hey it’s my blog, I get to write what I feel like)

*June11 *

*Holland** 1- Serbia & Montenegro 0*

Well couldn’t catch much of this game because of Herman’s weekly Sunday stoning session but Arjen Robben did light up the show. The Oranje showed just why they are one of the most exciting teams in world football with their constant interchanging of positions. Robben especially was literally all over the pitch. But there seem to be problems now since van Persie didn’t like the way Robben hogged all the limelight. He’s been complaining of how Robben would have been better if he had tried to find team-mates instead of going for goal at every given opportunity. The Dutch seem to have their famous infighting brewing again. Serbia on the other hand was just poor.

P.S. The Chelsea boys seem to be getting on the scoresheet regularly this time- Robben, Crespo, Drogba- Or is it because every single team in the WC seems to have a Chelsea player.

*S.C.O.F.F man of the match-* Arjen Robben – no discussion

*S.C.O.F.F. screw-up-* Ilija Petkovic – the Serb coach really got his tactics all wrong

* *

*Mexico** 3 – Iran 1*

Mexico’s expected to get through this group easily but Iran did make us Asians proud. Fighting the Mexicans tooth and nail till the end, only the second goal by Bravo finally broke the Iranian resistance. Don’t think these teams are gonna trouble the big guns, but it was an entertaining game. Can’t write much more coz my cousin was watching an Ekta Kapoor serial and I was too stoned to fight her off.

* *

*S.C.O.F.F man of the match*- Bravo – 2 goals -what can u say : Bravo, Bravo

*S.C.O.F.F. screw-up*- Herman for getting me stoned and Ekta Kapoor for living

* *

*Portugal1 - Angola 0*

Pauleta missed an opportunity to become the fastest scorer in history but made amends with a goal soon after. Angola did play much better than what I’ve heard of their previous games, when they seemed to struggle to keep all 11 people on field. Christiano Ronaldo touted to be one of the stars of the WC had a disappointing game. Luis Figo though did shut his critics with a storming display.

*S.C.O.F.F man of the match*- Figo – because we just love him


*S.C.O.F.F. screw-up*- Herman – because we just love him too

* *

*June 12 *

* *

*Australia** 3 – Japan 1*

Willy dropped a bomb on me by landing up at my office and telling me to arrange a television so that he could watch the game. It’s been always understated but in these circles, no matter what the situation, “never fear when the Dalster’s here”. We ended up in a seedy bar a stone’s throw from my office and convinced the owner to screen the match by making use of our broken Tulu. Aj too landed up soon and the match did begin to hot up with the Aussies doing most of the early running. Willy almost sunk into the ground when a mistake by the Aussie goalie, Schwarzer gave Japan the lead. They held on till the 83^rd minute by which time Australia were looking desperate. Willy for his part had just gone through all the religions in the world, trying to find the God that would listen to his pleas. Someone listened and with Tim Cahill leading the charge in an extraordinary come back by the socceroos, the Japs were left shell-shocked. Guss Hiddink proved why he is one of the best coaches in the world with 2 of his substitutes scoring. Aj and Dal played the perfect neutral supporters by supporting Japan till they led and shifting to the Aussies as soon as they made their way back. Aj n Dal also have a new hero among the Aussies Josh Kenneddyyyyyyyyy…..KKKenneddyyyyyyyyy

* S.C.O.F.F man of the match-*Tim Cahill – Initiated a sensational comeback and exemplified the never-say-die Aussie spirit.

*S.C.O.F.F. screw up-* Mark Schwarzer - Made two astonishing errors one of which led to a goal. Cahill really saved his blushes.



*Czech** Republic 3 - U.S.A. 0*

The Czech’s humiliated the U.S.A and proved they are real contenders for this WC. A goal after just 5 minutes brought American hopes crashing down. The Czech proceeded to run the Americans ragged throughout the game and made light of the fact they lost their two main strikers to injury by the end of the first half. Thomas Rosicky put up a lightning display to make all Gunners fans proud. The U.S.A. need to do a lot better if they want to convince the rest of the world they deserve their No. 5 world ranking.

*S.C.O.F.F man of the match*-Tomas Rosicky- As if a sensational strike in the first half was not enough he followed it up with another beauty to nail the Americans.



*S.C.O.F.F. screw up-* Team U.S.A.-Failed to turn up and disappointed all the fans who did. (Thought I’d put up the team photo but these chicks are sizzling hot and what a way to use a flag. Hats off ladies)

[Incase you people know why some pictures can't be uploaded please leave a comment behind as to how to rectify it. I'm feeling bad that the 2 gorgeous women can't be seen here......L.K.]

* *

*Italy** 2- Ghana 0*

Undoubtedly the match of the tournament so far. As expected the Ghanaians came out firing on all cylinders. But what wasn’t expected was the way Italy decided to hit them with their own sensationally refreshing football. An absolute see-saw during the first half hour with both teams creating opportunities. Luca Toni was unlucky to see one attempt crash off the cross-bar while Gyan Amoah went close for the Africans. Pirlo managed to break the deadlock with a signature strike- again underlining the affect the ball in this tournament. Ghana refused to die with Essien forcing a save. A sensational battle ensued in the mid-field between Pirlo and de Rossi for Italy, and Essien and Appiah for Ghana. Iaquinta finally punished an error to win it on the night but the Black Stars must be proud of the way they played.

* *

*S.C.O.F.F man of the match-*Andrea Pirlo-Scored one, created a second and though he couldn’t match the physical power of Essien, made up with his positioning and ability on the ball.

S.C.O.F.F. screw up- any moron who missed this match.

Sorry People that the updates aren't being updated. We promise to come back with day to day S.C.O.F.F analysis from the day the round of 16 begins.

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

I had to put this up!!!!

"Friends can help each other. A true friend is someone who lets you have total freedom to be yourself-and especially to feel. Or, not feel. Whatever you happen to be feeling at the moment is fine with them. That's what real love amounts to-letting a person be what he really is."
--- Jim

Monday, June 19, 2006

Work: Something for us to cheer about.

This is one section I told the guys I’ll cover because I couldn’t stop laughing at some of the incidents that happened. Let’s start of with Dal and then move on to the rest of the S.C.O.F.F, which by the way stands for Stoned Circle Of Fucked-up Friends and not FUCK ALL as Mr. S.C.O.F.F. himself put it up. The mistake was brought to his notice but I guess he is too lazy to do anything bout it. That’s a different matter, so for now let’s see what’s been happening at our respective workplaces.

Well, Dal the man (a.k.a Miracle Monger) joined his current workplace about 4 months back. His troubles began when his trainer realized that Dal was smarter than him. The only screw up was that Dal proved him right by actually acting smart which included not paying attention, back answering and sleeping during training. Well to make a long story short, Dal hasn’t worked on a single project for the last 4 months. The heights was when the Project Manager calls four of his colleagues and whispers really softly (because Dal was around) to them “We are hiring people, tell your friends who are looking for a job.” Everywhere we go we always take the weather with us.

Now about Minni. Incase you don’t know, Minni is onboard a ship. He has been sailing for eons I guess. The funny part here is that even though he lives on the ship, he sometimes fails to report for work. Can you imagine that!! It doesn’t end here. His captain is an old Pakistani. Minni has to apply hair dye for him whenever the captain sees grey. Come on Minni you’re an engineer for god sakes! Not a hair stylist. You don’t even know shit about style to save your arse.
[Also Minni was asked to shave his head after they found booze (A miniature, nothing major) as punishment. I have to yet confirm whether he is currently bald or no. Will update once the report is in from Dallu reporter)

Nothing funny has happened to Herman as yet. Will put that up incase anything favorable takes place. My news isn't worthy of being on the blog. It's a totaly boring job & I have lots of free time. Hope that explains this shitty post.

Thursday, June 15, 2006

Betting Meter

What do we have here. Dal and Herman both made a lot of money in the later stages of the world cup. Since Dal's is the only team that is left in the competition, he could very well walk away with the grand fuckin' prize. Anyways wishing him all the luck but I'm secretly hoping Italy go down.

DREAM TEAMS:

Ajay:

Bonanza Team: Argentina

Players: Crespo, Rocisky, Robben, J. Cole, Ronaldinho.
Goalkeeper: Cech

Today's Team: France

Current Score: -16


Shazeb:

Bonanza Team: Germany

Players: Ballack, Carlos, Nistelrooy, Owen, Kaka.
Goalkeeper: Lehman.

Today's Team: Spain

Current Score: -4


Delson:

Bonanza Team: Italy

Players: Ballack, Kaka, Rocisky, Klose, Luca Toni.
Goalkeeper: Buffon.

Today's Team: Brazil

Current Score: 62


Herman:

Bonanza Team: Brazil

Players: Ronaldinho, Rooney, Adriano, Robben, Zidane
Goalkeeper: N/A

Today's Team: Ghana

Current Score: -42

Wednesday, May 24, 2006



"All beings hitherto have created something beyond themselves: and ye want to be the ebb of that great tide, and would rather go back to the beast than surpass man? What is the ape to man? A laughing-stock, a thing of shame. And just the same shall man be to the Superman: a laughing-stock, a thing of shame. Ye have made your way from the worm to man, and much within you is still worm. Once were ye apes, and even yet man is more of an ape than any of the apes
Textbook peace


Of a winding road, of bright red and green.
Leading on to a dream serene.
In a carriage of ebony, over waters surreal .
People I know, think this unreal.
A faultless sky, soft earth, tranquil,
Perfumed mists, my senses thrilled.
Under the warm shade of an autumn tree,
Listening to echoes of voices, they remember me.
Chirping birds, a strong horse’s trot.
Clippity clop, Clippity clop.
Or better still when I want to stop
Sweet...
Sweet melody of silence.

To lay for a while on a bed of petals
Untouched, unbound, free of shackles.
My body lies still,
The mind will now dance.
I dread to wake up from what surely is a trance.
Faces I see in a fuzzy cloud above
So many of you – All whom I love
Sweet mother , Big strong Dad
Pretty girl who made me sad.
Friends that listened and let me cry.
And he who bid a quick goodbye.

I cannot stay, in this beauty wallow.
I envy you, little free swallow.
I have to return, get a hold of sanity.
Wake up, come back, recognize humanity.
Where I don’t really know why the words don’t rhyme,
I’ll have to come back some other time.

-Miracle Monger

Tuesday, May 02, 2006

Say it…. in style!

It was a nice calm night, when we all decided to go drinking. Drunk to the core, we headed to a crowded Izone to play warcraft. In the course of the game, it so happened that Dal, Aj, and myself had cornered Leo’s hero and Leo was calling Minni, his partner, for help. “Minni help me man, they have caught me!”.. “Minni help me man, they have caught me!”, but there was no reply. Minni’s computer was covered with his shirt, and he was topless and faaaaaast asleep on the floor in Izone. “Minni…Minni…wake up man…go home and sleep…don’t sleep here man!”.. Minni rubbing his eyes woke up and somehow sat on a bike. After reaching home, one of us asked him “Minni…in a crowded Izone u slept on the floor…we can understand that…you were drunk! But why did you have to remove your shirt!” Standing in a crooked pose he said, “ No maaan! …First I slept with my shirt on. Then I was not getting sleep because the light from my computer was hitting my eyes…so I took of my shirt…covered the comp…and went back to sleep!”


It was just like any other night in Manipal—same room in Nirmala, same Nitya’s stuff, and the same guys lazing around. We were all very hungry and since at that time we had the luxury of money we all thought of going out and eating. So, one by one we all went for bath. Dal just finished his bath, and Minni got up and started getting ready to go in. Leo elegantly spread across the mattress told Minni that he wanted to go. Minni protested and was about to rush into the bathroom to capture it first. Just as he was about to take off…Leo gracefully but quickly stretched his hand…found his cap…flung it into the bathroom and victoriously proclaimed, “My cap reached there first…so I’m going for bath first!” Minni’s expression was worth a watch…He literally got a “Hat Attack!”


Ever played a game called “Word Building”, where each person adds a letter to form a word, making sure that word doesn’t end on him. Well, u should try playing this game with Dominic. It was a sunny afternoon, when all of us lying in Dominic’s room decided to play this game. Now, usually Dominic doesn’t bother participating in our time wasting antiques (He had something better—sleep!). But surprisingly, he too wanted to be a part of it that day. Now, anyone who knows Dominic for five years will definitely be aware of the fact that, the only word he can spell is “Football” (and probably his own name… though I still have my own doubts on that!) So we all knew that we were in for a few laughs! It happened when Aj started the round, with the letter “H”, Pedro followed it with a “U”, I said “N”, and Babu added a “G”. Next was Dal’s turn. Wanting to form the word “Hungry”, he said “R” and snickered. Most of us figured out the word and exchanged cunning smiles. There was no way Dominic could escape now! The more he scratched his head…. the louder the laughs got! To top it all, he suddenly yelled, with the “I’m smart too” look in his eye, “Don’t think that only you guys are smart…I also know what the word is! I’m just confused whether it’s an “A” or an “E”. Duuuuuuh!!!!!!!!

Tuesday, April 25, 2006

Celestial Celebration

People salute the heavens, because we are so small
Even the proudest amongst us
Has to fall.
Destiny does as destiny wants.
You cannot change,
Destiny taunts.
As we speak now to allay our fears.
It had to be,
For so many years.
You're greatest talent, brightest trophy,
All just happy serendipity.
Doesn't a flower grow only if a seed is sown?
Isn't serenity seen in those little twinkling eyes,
Preceded by a mother's moan?
A poet writes through all those who will read,
OUr hunger for glory we shall not feed.
For all that we learn, we can't fathom divinty.
There is a higher ground we cannot see.
All hail the heavens one more time
Let's pay tribute for our victories.
Won't cost us a dime.

Monday, April 24, 2006

Take me down to the paradise city where the grass is green and the girls are...aaa...hmm..never mind..!!!

A Tale in Two Cities

I was gonna go to work but then I got high
I didn’t get a promotion coz I got high
now I'm selling dope and I know why
cause I got high.
6.30 pm: Sitting at my workstation, stoned to my wits end, waiting for dal or ajay to call. Chatting on the net, I faintly hear Ac/Dc’s “Highway to Hell”. I cock my ears trying to locate its source, to realize its my new Motorazor buzzing with enthusiasm in my pocket. Still enjoying the song, I wheeze it out and flip open the top. “Hallo, meet us at Takshila, 8.30, aj will reach there also around the same time. Don’t forget to score and come dude”, rattles dal, which was all I was waiting to hear. I calmly looked to see if my boss’s around, who, by the way thinks my eyes are red because of a cold, which I coincidently get everyday at noon. Seeing no one around, I pack my stuff and in less than a minute was on the bus, destination Takshila. “Ek Takshila”, I hand over change to the conductor. He promptly hands me a ticket, I stuff it in my pocket and headed for the nearest empty seat beside the window. The bus starts to gain some speed and the wind begins to cool my blood red eyes and I wondered, “How did all this begin?” It felt like just yesterday; last few days in Manipal, five guys sitting in Nirmala apartments—stoned, as usual. The song by Afroman playing in the background:
Was gonna go to class
before I got high
I coulda cheated and I coulda passed but I got high
I am taking it next semester and I know why
cause I got high

Our five and a half years stay in Manipal was about to come to an end in a couple of days. As the clock ticked by, one couldn’t help notice the expressions on each of our faces as we lay in that room. In one corner of the room sat Ajay, fondly known as “Aj” and even more affectionately known as “Gubbu / Ramu”. Ajay, born and brought up in Amchi Mumbai was admitted into Manipal not as an engineering student but as a full time Roller, because that was all he had done in his 5 and a half years stay here. Aj and me come a long way, from our days in Xavier’s, through 10th and 9th block, past Herga, finally bid goodbye in Nirmala, only to meet again in Takshila. Although weak in maths (could never add cigarettes), Aj was one of the smarter guys in the group. Aj, with all his hair, pioneered the smoking industry, officially founded in Herga. An Aj classic would be a neatly rolled joint, with all the works—cleaned n crushed stuff, powdered tobacco and eight years of goodwill. He had perfected the art and has been nominated five times “Roller of the year”, but never won! But that didn’t deter him; he still sticks to his job with the determination of a man on a mission. According to a survey conducted by some stoned jobless guys, “Aj, roll na”, was the most frequently repeated line in the history of Manipal. Although, according to another survey, the guys using that line the most were—us.

A little to the right of Ajay, sitting exactly below the window was a thin, scrawny, fair guy—Minni Maam. Although his real name was Mahesh, secretly I’m sure all of us would have liked it to be Minni itself. Everything bout him was min(n)i—his height, his appetite, his joints and not to forget, his I.Q. Minni comes from Kasargod, a small town bordering Karnataka and Kerala, about 60 km south of Mangalore. Being the last guy to join the group, Minni was the missing link that made us complete….complete losers. Now Aj had another roller, which meant double productivity and we all were twice as much stoned. Understanding Minni’s english was not as tough as understanding how can a guy bring a 1.5 litres pepsi when he was given clear instructions to bring something edible—food, for four hungry (as) souls. His reason to do so, I’m sure, would have even confused Einstein. Don’t get me wrong, Minni was no dork, its just that he is predictable.......and periodic, both in his actions and explanations. Minni was the most bindaas guy in the group. “Minni, lets drink”—ok, “Minni, lets go to izone”—ok. “Minni, lets study”—ok, “Minni, lets smoke up”—ok, “Minni, I’m stoned lets chuck the paper”—ok. That was our Minni, always ready for anything, a team man la. He also was undoubtedly the best “Warcraft 3 Corridor” player amongst us. I, personally am his staunch admirer, especially after his “washing the feet” incident in downtown, the night I learnt a valuable lesson—when Minni wants to go somewhere when he is drunk, let him GO. Some of our best trips were in his house in Kasargod, complete with the dope, soft beds, A.T.T (Any Time T.V), five star treatment, and not to forget the 10 course meals, ten times a day. Ask Dal, I don’t think even his own mother puts paste on his brush and keeps it ready when he wakes up. Does he brush??? That’s another sensitive story we shall talk about later.

A dark night, one room, 100 bucks worth grass, four heads and a black body lying somewhere in between! Ladies and Gentlemen, I give youuuuuuuuuuuuuuu… Leo. Full name Leonardo D’souza (Don’t ask me y.!!) aka “Black beauty” aka “Sleeping beauty”, and aka practically any name which has either of the words “Sleeping”, “Beauty”, or “Black”. Born and brought up in the lap of luxury in United States of Bandra, Leo was the funniest girl…(ooops!! sorry).. guy amongst us. 5” 9’ and not a single white spot on his body, his skin was as delicate and smooth as a baby’s ass. He had long hair, which had to be straightened every now and then. He wasn’t a dumb guy, he couldn’t be! He was the one who convinced Aj to straighten his “scotch bright”. To the layman, he was just another pansy guy, but to us, Leo was the epitome of humor. All he had to do was lie down, and we would burst out laughing. Leo was a true achiever; the word “work” just didn’t exist in his dictionary (even if it did, he would be too lazy to look it up). He founded and ran the A.L.U (Association of Lazy Undergraduates) in Herga and didn’t even pay a single dime as rent. He was also the creator of some of the best excuses/reasons/logic that ever floated around in Manipal, one of his best being the time when he beat Minni to the bathroom in Nirmala, without even stepping into it. Try beating that! Leo was one of the last guys in the group to learn how to ride a bike. Even the girls in Manipal knew how to ride a bike before him. Incidentally, if I have all my facts right, some of his teachers have been “girls”. Leo is the only one amongst us who has had a steady girlfriend for the past 7 years, while the rest of us were going steady with each other.

Boys and Girls it’s now time to play “Dal”. The rules—simple, never get caught wearing anything that’s your own. Right now if you look around the room and see a t-shirt, shorts, jeans, cap, or even an underwear slightly familiar, Congratulations, you have found Dal! (And the piece of clothing that u thought had lost!). Dalson Noel Lazrado, I don’t know where he was born, all I know that he was brought up in different places, which probably may explain the fact that he keeps disappearing from one place and appears in another; an old Herga saying “Dal can disappear faster than the eye can see.” and you will often find yourself saying, ”Arre he was just here, where did he go?” That’s Dal for you— The Dubai Express. Although he was smart, intelligent and loved by all, Dal was a sample in his own unique way. There was a time, whenever he ate, the others would close their eyes and look at him as a sign of respect (which continued till he got rid of his braces). Amongst us, Dal was the only one to attend church and a Bar....... regularly! His drunken stories are known to men..faaaar and wide. Bars in Manipal have renovated their interiors with his money...... adorned their walls with his pictures .Amongst many of his disgusting habits there was one good trait......he didnt smoke!....smoke up...yes!...but smoke...naa!! But believe it or not...deep down inside....Dal was a different person altogether..(you might have to go reeeaaaaaaaaaaly deep though for that!) Any sensible advice always came from him. Even though he couldnt see properly.. he used to show us the right direction. He was also amongst the better footballers we had in Manipal (and no…dominic doesn’t feature in that list). Just like each of us, Dal too.. was good for nothing. A companion for every occasion, be it drinking, smoking or occasional fainting, the man never ceased to entertain us. His debatable choice in movies and his impressive taste in music made Dal one of the most sought after guys in Manipal. His biggest claim to fame would probably be that he and the female actor in the super duper hit “Mysore Mallige” studied in the same college in Puttur. Speaking of Mysore Mallige, a lil birdie told me that, Dal too tried auditioning for the movie, but was rejected on grounds of insufficient equipment…tch tch! “Don’t loose heart Dal, size doesn’t always matter!”


Which brings us now to some other guys a from a slightly different dimension from the one we lived in (though this too was no “Land for the mentally stable”). Dominic Gregory D’silva. We all tried our best to love this guy inspite of his unenviable knack of giving us our most embarrassing moments in public places. His change of crushes every six months served to remind us of the beginning of every semester. Not that his choice of girls was bad , but we just couldn’t figure out why a guy with such a big physique himself ,had to pick chicks who looked to young to pass high school . I definitely feel he’d have some luck in his love life (this would confirmed by all and sundry) if he actually tried talking to the girl instead of stalking her around college on his CBZ ,with a horde of ugly looking hooligans alongside(that would be us) or following her to her house and in one particular case getting drunk and shouting at her dogs.( we were there for these incidents but let me tell you never by choice). There was never a week that passed by in which he wouldn’t get conned out of a hefty sum of money by some random person whom he vaguely knew. This would then end up with every single person in the vicinity being told of how immoral and unethical the people of the world had become. Why in the world he couldn’t keep his money to himself and refuse to lend it out? Some questions were just meant never to be answered. We enjoyed our trips to his house and really love his dad ( Aj, Dal and Herman have been fighting off each other to get adopted by him for quite some while now).”Ghe re Putha” was an expected reply to absolutely any unnecessary and downright stupid request for anything( most times it wasn’t even a request) .We did find it weirdly wacky for a father and son pair to abuse each other with the choicest in vulgarities and obscenities , I guess that’s what makes them cool. Dominic had a syndrome due to which everything in the world was somehow connected to football and in particular Chelsea F.C. We all loved the game no doubt but somehow Dom managed to awaken fairly violent and spiteful reactions to his favorite team and sport. Although Dom was a good player himself( in his own head he truly couldn’t fathom why none of us shared the view that he was the best thing to happen to the game) Herman has a few stats that confirm him being the least liked teammate ever. Most notably one that shows his team never could win.

Wilson Roshan Martis, simple, hard working, decent ,born and brought up in Kuwait and living the good life with a bright future ahead till he was introduced to all the vices a single human being can find time for in one life. He and Dom had a very on and off relationship (guess the followed the lunar cycles or vice versa). It was every second day that we’d come to know the two weren’t speaking to each other, and most definitely every second night that we’d hear one of them was bringing the other back after a drinking binge since that guy couldn’t walk back on his own. It was always awkward to see Willy in his room (its not a pretty sight watching a 6 foot , 80 kilo body dressed only in miniscule boxer shorts which left very little to anyone’s imagination) Don’t know if Willy wanted to seriously take up erotic dancing .Why else would anyone wear such short shorts. Willy always looked like he was struggling to keep a balance in his life. There’s never a grey area with him, its either black or white, good or bad. And no one can ever explain why he does certain things when the mood takes him. I mean why in the world would anyone want to practice drinking 1 full bottle of hard whisky in one sitting? Drink ok , but Practice drinking? Again, one of those questions that aren’t meant to be answered. Willy was a menace to every single being with a mobile phone in Manipal. His constant sports updates to people who couldn’t even spell cricket or football, let alone care for them, have led to various plans being laid all around the college to just kill him (women included let me tell you). He’s one of those few people (actually I’m lucky to have met only one such person in my life, I can’t handle anymore) who used to celebrate and worship anything that had to do with Australia. We weren’t ever surprised to walk into the library just before our semester exams and find him memorizing the birth dates and nicknames of Australian cricketers. He had certain rules to playing holi , you could only throw yellow and green colors on him. How he thought the girls would be interested in learning about Steve Waugh’s upcoming book? He’s explained it a few times I still can’t make sense out of it. He was a religious sort and a fervent campaigner against rock music till he heard that bands like INXS and AC\DC actually hail from Australia. He sometimes came down with illnesses which mysteriously seem to get cured as soon as one of the girls needed company to go out. His crazy death rides on his CBZ (yes he and Dom had the same tastes) were a means of striking fear into anyone who had newly joined college. He’s always been a believer in Dom’s theories of getting women to like you by stalking them. No writer can completely describe Willy when he was high. His ability to come up with the most astoundingly stupid actions with such regularity has to be praised. Not many people have been refused to be taken on a rickshaw by the driver because of the pathetic state they were in. Willy managed it every week. He was always hand in hand with Dom when they decided to pick up fights with random people, who were not even around the place, after another night in Downtown. He still has plans to reach blessed Australian soil though his Dad doesn’t seem to share his enthusiasm. All the best Willy, the Aussies deserve you mate – sorry, MITE (how could I forget after as he’s corrected me 50 million times).

BIG. There’s only one way to describe Keval Charles Jerome Lobo. Life was truly king size for Keval a.k.a K-Lo. He was surprisingly agile and active for someone who weighed 106k.g. (this time I’m not exaggerating). Always the hopeless romantic his pathetic attempts at a love life were a calming influence for men around the world without girlfriends. You’re better off alone guys. My first sight of him was in our first year when he lived in a hostel room hardly big enough to keep one leg of his. He managed to squeeze in and the rest of the batch never tired of passing the place at least once a day. I guess none of us ever saw a polar bear wear glasses. His bike, an Enfield, was exactly what we expected, the biggest piece of machinery we’d laid eyes upon. He too had discovered the joys of shouting outside his girl’s house in the middle of the night (Once again people God bless Dominic D’silva) and added his own flavor by bursting crackers and crashing into streetlights in the close vicinity. Parties at the drop of a hat were K-Lo’s specialty. He once went on a diet for 2 weeks managed to lose 4 kilo’s ( which isn’t much of a difference considering you way over a 100) and threw a party in which all of us ( including him) stuffed ourselves with enough food to solve Somalia’s malnourishment problems, and enough booze to end the drought in that part of the world. One of K-Lo’s many claims to fame is the fact that most bar’s in Manipal don’t have bulbs or lights or anything breakable within touching distance of the customer, thanks entirely to him. Some of his other reasons for throwing a party – “Thanks for giving me an intro, dude” , “ My bike got serviced ,dude” , and of course the weekly “Alrose finds me cute dude ”. K-Lo went on a diet for 8 months after passing out and, fat women of the world take notice, today weighs 68 kilos. Now the lean mean loving machine keeps shuttling between Qatar and Bangalore 4 times a year to meet what he describes as “my only real love”. The chick must be pretty dumb if she still can’t get a hint. I mean, how many women have a guy flying down from more than 2000 miles every 4 months and still think it’s because they’re “Just Good Friends”. (We hope to include the women we know in these biographies soon. Waiting till at least one of us gets at least a faint picture of what goes on inside a female mind)