8.00 to 800 a tale of a wasted day .......

Now I have traveled a lot in the short 19 years I have spent on this planet, courtesy of a father who was a railway officer who got transferred often.(just to say how used to travel I am) But yesterday I had the misfortune of having to travel to a college which was at a really remote area.(I went there to participate in an inter-college fest) My friend a new first year student kept pressuring me and another guy from the 3^rd year to go with him to the inter college fest, he told us that he has an agreement with the principal that we will get our travel allowance if we show the tickets. (SO naïve the first years, they believe everything anyone tells them) So after he agreed to buy a really expensive lunch we all set on a journey to the college (where we were supposed to be at/before 10.30, that’s when the registration closes) at 8.00 AM so I will give you a gist of what I went through at each hour from 8AM to 8PM.

08.00: We get on a private bus, after running behind it for a full 5 minutes through the busy streets (early morning exercise) destination: Kottayam

09.00: still on the bus, the third year guy, Karthik was sitting on my lap ( I was the only one to get a seat) and for your information, he weighs more that 80 kilos, though he will swear on his life that he is just 65.

10.00: still on the bus, traveled for 30 minutes with me sitting on Karthik’s lap. And when we reached Kottayam bus stand, we called the event organizer and asked him to extend the registration time a wee little bit, we said our bus broke down (we got a stay of execution till 11.00 AM. Then we got on a bus to get to the college, the conductor told us we would reach there by 11.40 so we were really “optimistic” about our chances to win (on this bus each of us got a seat so, thank god!)

11.00: Still on the bus, which by the way had a driver who was most certainly drunk. And the songs which were playing on the bus would make you rip your heart out and set it on fire.

12.00: Arguing with the organizers about how we traveled for 4 straight hours to get there, and that we needed to have something to show for it.

01.00: Saw the auto show, took some pictures. Had a fight with the first year guy Ajay, about how he dragged us there and wasted a perfectly good weekend. Then saw the guys at a college perform an air show. (Ya I was thrilled at first too, turns air show in that part of Kerala means an old guy flying a remote control plane in circles) it was almost exciting as we made quite a scene, yelling “We want plane crash” slogans, a lot of that college’s students joined in too. But the “pilot” played spoil sport and caught the plane just as it was about to hit a flower pot when it landed (that catch generated more disappointed “aw’s”, than a penalty miss at a world cup final.)

02:00: was on a bus back to kottayam. A lot of students of that college were talking with us after the incident, when I sat in a rolls roys(on display at the auto show) car to pose for a picture(the idiots organizers deleted the picture as punishment *sniff sniff)

03.00: Ate 230 rs worth of lunch + 1 Rs chocolate. (on me) Got on the bus back to my college (the bus stand near my college)

04.00: playing hand cricket tournament on the bus.

05.00: still on the bus. Sleeping, with my head out the window.

6.00: On the bus to my home from the college bus stand. Still 1 and a half hours travel left before I see my home.

07.30: At home, explaining to mom why I got so late.

08.00: Slept on the couch, even before I had dinner.

                                           ~~~~~Fin~~~~

A blast into the past!

Okay My friend Rinaya who by the way, is the best blogger I know, gave me the idea for this post. her blog is called wandering thoughts it's awesome check it out.  

1. Depending on your age, go back 10, 15, 20, or even more years.
2. Tell us how many years back you have travelled and why.
3. Pretend you have met yourself during that era, and tell us where you are.
4. You only have one "date" with this former self.
5. Answer these questions. 

Okay, as we start, what year is it and how old are you?

 I am already too young, but still if I have to go back 10 years, it would be the year 2000 and I would be a 9 year old studying in Erode. I must be in my 4^th std. It’s hard to say, I shifted schools and cities very quickly when I was a kid. 4 schools till I reached my 5^th std, ought to tell you how confusing it would be for me to calculate the whereabouts of my younger self (MYS).

1. Would your younger self (YYS, from here) recognize you when you first meet?

No way, MYS was cute, short and chubby and he seldom cared about what went on around him. So if he saw a creepy, tall and ugly looking guy, he probably would just start crying and make a scene (I would be beaten up by the kind strangers in the near surrounding) 

 2. Would YYS be surprised to discover what you are doing job wise?                                                 Um.... I’m still toiling to complete by B.com degree, He must think I would be taking      science stream during my +1. But boy is he in for a sore surprise. (I still don’t understand why I took commerce when the principal offered me both computer science and biology) And he would be surely surprised to know I do a little bit of catering work, just so that I could have some fun with my friends.

 

3. What piece of fashion advice would you give YYS?

I would not give him fashion advice; my wardrobe selection was made by my dad back then. And he had some great taste. But I would tell MYS to stock up on some great jeans before he moves to Kerala. Kerala has THE worst collection of jeans pants ever, and any good jeans you do find don’t fit you right.

 
4. What do you think YYS is most going to want to know?

I’m sure he would love to know if he would become a football player for Chelsea. (My favorite football club)

      5. How would you answer YYS's question?

I would just give him a slap and say this- “stupid, no Indian player is ever going to play in premier league (not in the near future any way) and even if by some voodoo magic they do get an opportunity to see you play, you need to have practice playing with other people, kicking around a ball alone isn’t going to help you. You don’t play football alone, it takes 11 players, and present you sucks, so practice harder make me a great player.” (I know I’m selfish)

6. What would probably be the best thing to tell YYS?

Dude, you are going to grow up and join big boys school, the guys sitting at the back may seem all that cool, and awesome. And you would be mighty disappointed that you couldn’t join them. Well here’s something to remember then, they are nothing compared to how awesome you are going to be in a college (I can always lie to him). Oh that is if you join my college, you see it’s always good to be the big fish in a small pond. And for Christ’s sake get rid of your stage fright.

7. What is something that you probably wouldn't tell YYS?

That MYS will get into a cycle accident that will humiliate him in front of all his friends very soon. (in 5^th std) But he’ll learn a very valuable lesson then, “beautiful girls can be… well really beautiful, but when you are down, hurt, and bleeding only the really kind ones help.” Ok, it’s not a valuable lesson.

8. What do you think will most surprise YYS about you?

That, compared to him, I look like an African person. Get out of the sun light, sports ain’t gonna get you places. But looks certainly can, I know I could have made the cut for that VJ event if I looked a bit better!

9. What do you think will least surprise YYS?

That I still eat a pack of biscuits, every evening. And that I’m still a die hard Chelsea fan!

10. At this point in your life, would YYS like to run into "you" from the future?

I can’t say, lotteries would be banned in Tamil Nadu that year. If that didn’t happen I would give MYS all the wining lottery numbers for the past 10 years. If I had a rupee for every time I thought of that I would be really rich. *drifts into a day dream

boredom can get you really hurt, here's why!

29/12/2010- situation: One of those boring days that could make my other boring days sit up and cry with envy. I found myself up very early and with absolutely nothing to do. 



I had brought a joystick to play the FIFA football game better, as if I don’t already spend enough to buy these games each year. And now I really found out how addicted I have become to the game. I started the day grieving, and shocked. (my friend’s call woke me up, our first year’s language results were out) To my relief I got first class and that worry got out of the way. I decided to just play FIFA for a while, then brush my teeth and start my day. But one game turned to 5-6 and the time was 10 am, brushed my teeth, had to buy a packet of biscuits for breakfast that I went through a pack of biscuits in 5 minutes and scalding hot tea to wash it down with. 

                                                     Then the joystick (or joypad as it is called) seemed to be glued to my hands again, usually I loose pretty bad at professional difficulty but today I beat Manchester united 9-0 (I hate man utd, am a Chelsea fan!) And that was like a first dose of heroin for me, because similar margins followed and the clock seemed to move in fast forward mode.

After every game I remember some chore that needs to be done, which I promise to do after the next game. But the whole cycle kept going in circle, and my hand griped the joy pad ever so tightly as each exciting moment came and went. My mom came back from the market (she never sends me to buy fish, apparently I have a special talent to buy stale fish) and she stood there staring at how I yanked , moved and jumped almost like I was trying to synch and do exactly as the tiny little player on the screen seemed to be doing. And I was in a world of my own, guests came and went, with me just dismissing them with a smile. Phone calls from friends asking about the results were just ignored. I was so determined to finish a season with a perfect record, which means I had to win every match.....all 56 one of them, including cup matches.
                               At 3 pm mom switched off the computer by just pulling the plug on the computer after two hours of politely asking me to have lunch, so took lunch as quickly as humanly possible, found out why hick ups occur- they occur when you eat too fast, because each mouthful I took was accompanied by a hick up. I was crazy; I had so much planed for today. I wanted to start reading the “new moon” book. (After much reflection I read twilight, it was actually not half bad) I had to write some intelligible post for my blog, but all of these ideas just vanished in front of all the semi finals and league matches I could play. Strangely my hand was almost numb, and I had trouble bending my fingers when I was eating, “it’ll pass” I thought. 
                                               And off I went to continue in the quest of a perfect season. And I played till 6 pm, and the final match, the finals of the European championship, my team was level at 1-1 ant I was afraid my perfect season will go down the drain at the very last match as the time in the match drew to a close. Then out of the blue one of my players took the ball from our half and ran all the way to score in the last 10 minutes! I was naturally ecstatic; I was jumping around like I was a real footballer who won a big final match. Then I realized I threw the joy pad in my utter joy, it took a hard hit when it fell down. And I hooked it in quickly, then I saw the score 2-2, while I was busy jumping around the stupid team scored again, and before I could react, they scored again in extra time as I sat there watching, helpless and heart broken. My left stick on the joy pad (the one with which I control the players) was not working and I could hear strange sounds from the joy pad when I moved it. The game ended with them winning and me loosing the perfect season at the very last match. (A result which I could not change) 

                                   My day’s hard work was there ruined by a stupid early celebration dance. And my 3 months hard work and sweat, the joy pad sat there broken and battered. But I called the company of the joy pad (the service center in Cochin) they said they can fix it for free because I had a warranty, all I had to do was send my beloved “late Mr. joy pad” to their office by courier and they would fix it and send it back (expense on them) and I realized the joy pad can be fixed, so can the perfect season (just have to waste another day or a couple of days) but the hardest thing to be fixed is my ego. And of course I can’t touch anything with either of my thumbs, and my fingers make a funny sound every time I move them for even a slight millimeter. You may wonder who typed this up then; well it’s my neighbor shaan who says hi to all: “hi!” Well that’s it.