The cut off

Hindustan Times Brunch
July 26, 2009

http://www.hindustantimes.com/thecutoff

Everyone will give you an opinion on how to live your life. No one, no one will give you good advice on how to end it. Worse, they will tell you to continue living, without any respect for individual choice. Yes, hi, I’m Gautam Arora, and after eighteen wonderful years in Delhi, I’ve decided to end my life.
I sat with my best friend Neeraj and his girlfriend Anjali at Costa Coffee, DLF Metropolitan Mall in Saket. The coffee is way overpriced, but considering I had a day to live, I didn’t mind getting ripped off.
“The joke isn’t that funny,” Neeraj said, tearing open the second sachet of brown sugar and mixing it for his girlfriend. If this girl can’t mix sugar in her coffee, I wonder what she will be like after marriage.

“Do I look like I am joking? You are in medical college, and as a friend and someone two years elder to me, I am asking your advice on what is the most painless, graceful way to go. And ideally, it should be available at the friendly neighbourhood chemist,” I said. I ordered a chocolate fudge cake. What are a few extra calories on your last day?
Anjali kept quiet, her iPod plugged in her ears. She had come to the mall to shop with her boyfriend rather than meet me. Neeraj said he only dated Anjali as her father had given her a car and driver, which made it easy to go around. Besides, she looked ok. She was pretty enough to invite a second stare from men, though that’s hardly an achievement in Delhi where men’s standards can be quite modest.
“Dude, you topped your school. How much did you score in your class XII boards again?” Neeraj said.
“Ninety two per cent,” I said.
“Ninety what?” Neeraj said as he ripped out Anjali’s earphones, “Anjali, the dude scored ninety two per cent in commerce! Do you know of anyone who has scored that much?”
Anjali shook her head.
“Wow, you must have studied a lot,” she said.
I nodded. I had done nothing but study in the last two years.
“No time for hobbies?” she said.
I shook my head. My only hobbies were eating three meals and sleeping five hours a day. The rest of the time was with my books.
“With ninety two, you should be fine,” Neeraj said.
“Not according to SRCC, not according to Stephen’s and not according to Hindu, oh what the heck,” I said as I opened my rucksack.
I gave him the special admissions supplement from the newspaper. I had snucked it out early morning so mom and dad wouldn’t see it.
“Wow, check out Lady Sri Ram. B.Com Honours is at 95.5 per cent!” Neeraj said.
“That’s a girl’s college,” Anjali said.
“I know,” I said.
“Don’t worry, he wouldn’t have made it anyway. Anjali, why don’t you go spend some of your father’s money,” Neeraj said and winked at me.
Anjali and I both gave Neeraj a dirty look. Neeraj air-kissed Anjali and gestured to her to leave.
Seriously, don’t kill yourself. To us, you are still the school topper,” Neeraj said after Anjali left.
“So what do I do?” I said, my voice loud, “stay back in school? This topper tag makes things worse. My parents already threw a party for our friends and relatives like I have made it big time in life. I cut a cake with the icing ‘family superstar’.”
“Nice,” Neeraj said.
“Not nice at all. All relatives congratulated my mother. They see me as the next hotshot investment banker on Wall Street. The least they expect me to do is get into a good college in DU.”
“There are still some colleges that you will get,” Neeraj said as I cut him off.
“But none with the same brand value. Thus, you can’t get a decent job after them. You can’t get into the top MBA school.”
Neeraj pushed my coffee cup towards me. I hadn’t touched it. I picked it up and brought it close to my mouth but couldn’t drink it.
“I made one tiny calculation error in my math paper,” I said, “read one stupid unit conversion wrong. That’s it. If only…”
“If only you could chill out. You are going to college, dude! Branded or not, it is always fun.”
“Screw fun,” I said. “What kind of kids are they taking in anyway?” Neeraj said, “you have to be a bean-counter stickler to get ninety seven per cent. Like someone who never takes chances and revises the paper twenty times.”
“I don’t know, I revised it five times. That stupid calculation…”
“Gautam, relax. That paper is done. And sticklers don’t do well in life. Innovative and imaginative people do.”
“That’s not what DU thinks. You don’t understand, my father has proclaimed in his office I will join SRCC. I can’t go to him with a second rung college admission. It’s like his whole life image will alter. Hell, I won’t be able to deal with it myself.”
An SMS from Anjali on Neeraj’s phone interrupted our conversation. At Kimaya, tried fab dress. Come urgently, want your opinion. Neeraj typed the reply back. Honey, it looks great. Buy it.
Neeraj grinned as he showed me his response. “I think you should go,” I said. Rich dads’ daughters can throw pretty nasty tantrums. Neeraj took out the money for coffee. I stopped him. “My treat,” I said. Leave people happy on your last day, I thought. “Of course, I take this as your treat for cracking your boards,” Neeraj said and smiled. He ruffled my hair and left. I came out of the mall and took an auto home.
I met my parents at the dinner table. “So when will the university announce the cut-offs?” my father said.
“In a few days,” I said. I looked up at the dining table fan. No, I couldn’t hang myself. I can’t bear suffocation.
My mother cut mangoes after dinner. The knife made me think of slitting my wrists. Too painful, I thought and dropped the idea.
“So now, my office people are asking me, ‘when is our party?’,” my father said as he took a slice.
“I told you to call them to the party we did for neighbours and relatives,” my mother said.
“How will they fit with your brothers and sisters? My office people are very sophisticated,” my father said.
“My brothers are no less sophisticated. They went to Singapore last year on vacation. At least they are better than your family,” she said.
My father laughed at my mother’s sullen expression. His happiness levels had not receded since the day I received my result.
“My office people want drinks, not food. Don’t worry, I’ll do another one for them when he gets into SRCC or Stephen’s.”
My father worked in the sales division of Tata Tea. We had supplied our entire set of neighbours with free tea for the last five years. As a result, we had more well-wishers than I’d have liked.
“Even my country head called to congratulate me for Gautam. He said – nothing like Stephen’s for your brilliant son,” my father said.
“Gupta aunty came from next door. She wanted to see if you can help her daughter who is in class XI,” my mother said.
Is she pretty, I wanted to ask, but didn’t. It didn’t matter. I came to my room post dinner. I hadn’t quite zeroed down on the exact method, but thought I should start working on the suicide letter anyway. I didn’t want it to be one of the clichéd ones – I love you all and it is no one’s fault, and I’m sorry mom and dad. Yuck, just like first impressions, last impressions are important too. In fact, I didn’t want to do any silly suicide letter. When it is your last, you’d better make it important. I decided to write it to the education minister. I switched on my computer and went to the Education Department website. Half the site links were broken. There was a link called “What after class XII?” I clicked on it, it took me to a blank page with an under construction sign. I sighed as I closed the site. I opened Microsoft Word to type.
Dear Education Minister,
I hope you are doing fine and the large staff of your massive bungalow is treating you well. I won’t take much of your time.
I’ve passed out of class XII and I’ve decided to end my life. I scored ninety-two per cent in my boards, and I have a one foot high trophy from my school for scoring the highest. However, there are so many trophy holding students in this country and so few college seats, that I didn’t get into a college that will train me to the next level or open up good opportunities.
I know I have screwed up. I should have worked harder to get another three per cent. However, I do want to point out a few things to you. When my parents were young, certain colleges were considered prestigious. Now, forty years later, the same colleges are considered prestigious. What’s interesting is that no new colleges have come up with the same brand or reputation level. Neither have the seats expanded in existing colleges fast enough to accommodate the rising number of students.
I’ll give you an example. Just doing some meaningless surfing, I saw that 3.8 lakh candidates took the CBSE class XII exam in 1999, a number that has grown to 8.9 lakh in 2009. This is just one board, and if you take ICSE and all other state boards, the all India total number is over ten times that of CBSE. We probably had one crore students taking the class XII exam this year.
While not everyone can get a good college seat, I just want to talk about the so-called good students. The top 10 per cent alone of these one crore students is ten lakh children. Yes, these ten lakh students are their class toppers. In a class of fifty, they will have the top-5 ranks.
One could argue that these bright kids deserve a good college to realise their full potential. Come to think of it, it would be good for our country too if we train our bright children well to be part of the new, shining, gleaming, glistening or whatever you like to call the globalised India.
But then, it looks like you have stopped making universities. Are there ten lakh top college seats in the country? Are there even one lakh? Ever wondered what happens to the rest of us, year after year? Do we join a second rung college? A deemed university? A distance learning programme? A degree in an expensive, racist country?
Your government runs a lot of things. You run an airline that never makes money. You run hotels. You want to be involved in making basic stuff like steel and aluminum, which can easily be made by more efficient players. However, in something as important as
shaping the young generation, you have stepped back. You have stopped making new universities. Why?

You have all the land you want, teachers love to get a government job, education funds are never questioned. Still, why? Why don’t we have new, A-grade universities in every state capital for instance?
Oh well, sorry. I am over reacting. If only I had not done that calculation error in my math paper, I’d be fine. In fact, I am one of the lucky ones. In four years, the number of candidates will double. So then we will have a college that only has 99 per cent scorers.
My parents were a bit deluded about my abilities, and I do feel bad for them. I didn’t have a girlfriend or too many friends, as people who want to get into a good college are not supposed to have a life. If only I knew that slogging for twelve years would not amount to much, I’d have had more fun.
Apart from that, do well, and say hello to the PM, who as I understand, used to teach in college.
Yours truly,
Gautam
(Poor student)
I took a printout of the letter and kept it in my pocket. I decided to do the act the next morning. I woke up as the maid switched off the fan to sweep the room. She came inside and brought a box of sweets. A fifty-year-old woman, she had served us for over ten years. “What?” I said as she gave me the box. It had kaju-barfi, from one of the more expensive shops in the city. The maid had spent a week’s salary distributing sweets to anyone known to her. “My son passed class XII,” she said as she started her work. “How much did he score?” I said, still rubbing my eyes. “Forty two per cent. He passed English too,” she said as her face beamed with pride. “What will he do now?” I said. “I don’t know. Maybe his own business, he can repair mobile phones,” she said. I went to the bathroom for a shower. I realised the newspaper would have come outside. I ran out of the bathroom. I picked up the newspaper from the entrance floor. I took out the admissions supplement, crumpled it and threw it in the dustbin kept outside the house. I came back inside the house and went back into the shower.
I left the house mid-day. I took the metro to Chandni Chowk and asked my way to the industrial chemicals market. Even though I had left science after class X, I knew that certain chemicals like Copper Sulphate or Ammonium Nitrate could kill you. I bought a pack of both compounds. As I passed through the lanes of Chandni Chowk, I passed a tiny hundred square feet jalebi shop. It did brisk business. I thought my last meal had to be delicious. I went to the counter and took a quarter kilo of jalebis.
I took my plate and sat on one of the two rickety benches placed outside the shop.
A Muslim couple with a four-year-old boy came and sat on the next bench. The mother fed the boy jalebi and kissed him after each bite. It reminded me of my childhood and my parents, when they used to love me unconditionally and marks didn’t exist. I saw the box of Ammonium Nitrate and tears welled up in my eyes. I couldn’t eat the jalebis. I came back home. I wondered if I should use my chemicals before or after dinner. Maybe it is better after everyone has slept, I thought.

We sat at the dinner table. Dad had told mom not to cook as he’d brought Chinese takeaway for us. Mom brought the soya sauce, chilli oil and the vinegar with cut green chillies in little katoris. We ate American chopsuey on stainless steel plates. I looked at my watch, it was 8 pm. Three more hours, I thought as I let out a sigh.
“One thing Kalpana,” my father said to my mother, “job candidates aren’t what they used to be these days. I interviewed for new trainees today, disappointing.”
“Why, what happened?” my mother said.
“Like this boy from Stephen’s, very bright kid. But only when it came to his subjects.”
“Really?” my mother said.
“Yeah, but I asked him a different question. I said how would you go about having a tea-shop chain like the coffee shop chains, and he went blank,” my father said, an inch of noodle hanging outside his mouth. My mother removed it from his face.
“And then some kid from SRCC. He topped his college. But you should have seen his arrogance. Even before the interview starts, he says ‘I hope at the end of our meeting, you will be able to tell me why I should join Tata Tea and not another company’. Can you imagine? I am twice his age.”

I could tell my father was upset from his serious tone.
“If you ask me,” my father continued, “the best candidate was a boy from Bhopal. Sure, he didn’t get into a top college. But he was an eighty per cent student. And he said ‘I want to learn. And I want to show that you don’t need a branded college to do well in life. Good people do well anywhere.’ What a kid. Thank God we shortlisted him in the first place.”
“Did he get the job?” I said.
“Yes, companies need good workers, not posh certificates. And we are having a meeting to discuss our short listing criteria again. The top colleges are so hard to get in, only tunnel vision people are being selected.” “Then why are you asking him to join Stephen’s or SRCC?” my mother said.
My father kept quiet. He spoke after a pause. “Actually, after today, I’d say don’t just go by the name. Study the college, figure out their dedication, and make sure they don’t create arrogant nerds. Then whatever the brand, you will be fine. The world needs good people.”

I looked at my parents as they continued to talk. Excuse me, but I have a plan to execute here. And now you are confusing me, I thought. “So should I study some more colleges and make a decision after that?” I said. “Yes, of course. No need for herd-mentality. Kalpana you should have seen this boy from Bhopal.”
Post-dinner, my parents watched TV in the living room while eating fruits. I retracted to my room. I sat on my desk wondering what to do next. The landline phone rang in my parent’s room. I went inside and picked it up.
“Hello Gautam?” the voice on the other side said.
It was my father’s colleague from work. “Hello, Yash uncle,” I said. “Hi,” he said, “congratulations on your boards.” “Thanks uncle,” I said, “dad is in the living room finishing dinner, should I call him?” “Dinner? Oh, don’t disturb him. Just tell him his mobile is with me. It is safe. We were on a field trip today. He left it in my car.” “Field trip? For interviews?” I said. “What interviews? No, we just went to the Chandigarh office,” he said.

I wished him good night and hung up the phone. I switched on the bedside lamp in my parents’ room. Confused, I sat down on my father’s bed, wondering what to do next. To make space, I moved his pillow. Under the pillow lay a crumpled newspaper. I picked it up. It was the same admissions supplement I had tossed in the bin this morning. My father had circled the cut-offs table.
I left the newspaper there and came to the living room. My father was arguing with my mother over the choice of channels. I looked at my father. He smiled at me and offered me watermelon. I declined.
I came back to my room. I picked up the chemical boxes and took them to the toilet. I opened both boxes and poured the contents in the toilet commode. One press, and everything, everything flushed out.
“Gautam,” my mother knocked on the door, “I forgot to tell you. Gupta aunty came again. Can you teach her daughter?”
“Maybe,” I said as I came out of the toilet, “by the way, is she pretty?”

By Chetan Bhagat

****************************************************

Btw I really liked the story

Love ya’

Tush

Mary Lou

It was my first day as newcomer to Miss Hargrove’s seventh grade. Past “newcomer” experiences had been difficult, so I was very anxious to fit in. After being introduced to the class, I bravely put on a smile and took my seat, expecting to be shunned. Lunchtime was a pleasant surprise when the girls all crowded around my table. Their chatter was friendly, so I began to relax. My new classmates filled me in on the school, the teachers and the other kids. It wasn’t long before the class nerd was pointed out to me: Mary Lou English. Actually she called herself Mary Louise. A prim, prissy young girl with a stern visage and old-fashioned clothes, she wasn’t ugly — not even funny looking. I thought she was quite pretty, but I had sense enough not to say so. Dark-eyed and olive-skinned, she had long, silky black hair, but — she had pipe curls! Practical shoes, long wool skirt and a starched, frilly blouse completed the image of a complete dork. The girls’ whispers and giggles got louder and louder. Mary Lou made eye contact with no one as she strode past our table, chin held high with iron determination. She ate alone. After school, the girls invited me to join them in front of the school. I was thrilled to be a member of the club, however tentative. We waited. For what, I didn’t yet know. Oh, how I wish I had gone home, but I had a lesson to learn. Arms wrapped around her backpack, Mary Lou came down the school steps. The taunting began – rude, biting comments and jeering from the girls. I paused, then joined right in. My momentum began to pick up as I approached her. Nasty, mean remarks fell unabated from my lips. No one could tell I’d never done this before. The other girls stepped back and became my cheerleaders. Emboldened, I yanked the strap of her backpack and then pushed her. The strap broke, Mary Lou fell and I backed off. Everyone was laughing and patting me. I fit in. I was a leader. I was not proud. Something inside me hurt. If you’ve ever picked a wing off a butterfly, you know how I felt. Mary Lou got up, gathered her books and — without a tear shed or retort given — off she went. She held her head high as a small trickle of blood ran down from her bruised knee. I watched her limp away down the street. I turned to leave with my laughing friends and noticed a man standing beside his car. His olive skin, dark hair and handsome features told me this was her father. Respectful of Mary Lou’s proud spirit, he remained still and watched the lonely girl walk toward him. Only his eyes — shining with both grief and pride — followed. As I passed, he looked at me in silence with burning tears that spoke to my shame and scalded my heart. He didn’t speak a word. No scolding from a teacher or preaching from a parent could linger as much as that hurt in my heart from the day a father’s eyes taught me kindness and strength and dignity. I never again joined the cruel herds. I never again hurt someone for my own gain.

 

By Lynne Zielinski

from Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul III

Woah! What a Dream!!

Hello,Sup,Namaste,etc…etc…. all you guys.I’m sure most of you must have thought me as another 3 post-er blogger because of the inactivity here but hey! I’m not that bad as you think.Actually  I didn’t get enough time to post.I’m sure It was a problem with most of the bloggers in their initial weeks.

So now about the title – well It is about the dream I saw two days back.It was kinnda strange as it was neither a sweet dream not a nightmare and still I remembered each bit of it.So here it goes -

scene – Last day of school. Date – sometime in early January.

Now it is the last day of my school going on.It was very different from my actual day at school, considering the fact that there were just four students in all in my class.Suddenly my teacher enters and announces that due to low attendance they have decided to merge both the sections.I actually feel good cause that would at least make the day more happening

We all enter the other section which has atleast greater number of students than our’s one. I take a quick glance to place where my crush usually sits and thank God she was there.I make up my mind to tell her at all costs what I feel about her. I see my friend sitting the row next to hers and I occupy the seat next to him so I can at least talk to her.

Telling more about “N” Me and her have been in the same class from 9′th grade to 11′th.

In ninth we barely knew each other,

In tenth we were very close friends because she used to sit on the desk in front of mine,

In eleventh we were in same class but rarely used to talk because we used to sit far away from each other,

In twelfth we were in different sections but still used to have hi’s and hello’s once a week.

her description- she was a typical girl-next-door.Not kinnda hot but kinnda sweet,cute and most importantly lovable.

****Back in the dream I did once or twice talked to her trying to tell her what I really wanted,postponing it to the next minute.

Now as the day was coming to its end, the bell rang we said our prayer-at-the-end-of-day and then the students started walking out.I was determined to ask her out and wished that other girls and guys in the room would disappear so that we both could have a little privacy, But no she was surrounded by her never going friends.So while walking on the path between the school building and the gate I continuously tried to convey her but no luck.So I started saying bye’s and take care to my friends as it was the last day of my school.At the end I once again glanced towards her and SHE WAS NOWHERE TO BE SEEN!!! Random thoughts such as “You have missed the last chance”,”She’s is gone forever”,”Oh! god please just one more time.I’ll surely ask her this time” started to come into my mind, And perhaps there is really someone up there because I found her at last. She was there – standing by her non-gear-ed scooter just ready to zoom away.I dunno Why I did that even in my dream – I screamed her name!!!  She stopped and asked ,”What now???”  I asked “Hey! What do you plan to do after school.”.She replied “Oh you stopped me for asking this! Well I plan to do a B.com course from a local college.”,”Ohk” I said “and I got something really important to ask you.”,”go ahead” she said.   “well….ahem…. you know I really think you’re good and I really like you“

I think my level of emotion and excitement was so high that I woke up.I woke up and realized that It was just a dream.

I wondered how might she had reacted after this.

I realized school was so much cooler than my current life.

I wondered why  I was such dumb that I could not I ever ask her out in my real life.

I remembered how lovely she was and how exiting my life would be had been if I had asked her out on the last day of my school.

And most importantly I realized How much I missed my school life.

So I dunno what happened to me and my eyes started to get moist.A few seconds later A small thin tear rolled down my eye.I spend about half-an-hour staring at the ceiling of my room recalling my school days,my friends,my teachers,my classrooms and my crush.I smiled,I frowned and even weep-ed lying about in my bed remembering my school days.

I remember having nightmares that used to scare the wits out of me at the but never experienced a dream which actually made me cry/smile.

All the guys reading this- have you experienced anything similar in your dream which made you so much emotional .Yeah???Please mention a short description.

Tnx,

Happy reading and commenting,

Love ya,

Tush

iBlog – The new title

“OK Ladies and gentleman, Boys and girls” sounds familiar eh??

so I now officially named my weblog as “iBlog”. OK, I got reasons for it

• Apple,apple,apple….. This is what going on in my mind all the day long.I wanted to take my apple-fan-ism to a new heights
• It is short,simple, and easy to remember
• I was really bored of that – thinking of a new one

Apart from the title Iwanted to tell one more thing to all of you – MY COLLEGE IS FINALLY OVER. “but he started just a few days back”?? eh?

Well a few days back Common profiency test’s result had not came out and getting 129 marks in it left me with two choices -

1. Forget the result continue with my b.com(3 years) and do a MBA (2 years more) afterwords. So finally  – B.com + MBA (just like every other commerce guy)
2. Start doing Chartered accountancy, pass both the exams (3 and a half years) and do MBA(2 years). after that.So finally C.A. + MBA (it really means a great thing)

So I choose the second one…………

Hey! Keep reading and don’t forget to comment,

Love ya,

Tush

Celebrating 100 hits & an iPhone

“Hey! All you rocking people, mid-night party loving people, and jazz-ing guys out there…….”

This is one of the typical ways “Sudershan” (Sud as he likes himself to be called) of Radio Mirchi greets his listeners on his show “Hassi ke Phuare”. Anyways I really like him so I thought of mentioning him. I also happen to celebrate a hundred hits to my blog. I know its a small number but You will know the value of a hundred hits only when you you’re a beginner.

As Ish said I need to comment people on their blog so that they too visit my site in return. I tried to do this but I didn’t know what to comment. My long lived laziness too needs a special mention here, but Hey! I’m not the only one to blame, for a part of the blame goes to my state government and parents too. This is because one orders no electricity during the day and the other orders no computer during the night(i hope you understand), but heh! gimme  one or two days, i’ll surely do comment.So BACHENA AE BLOGGERS LO MEIN AA GAYA.

I also visited the newly opened iStore for the second time today, because the first time visit was a too crowded and short. Anyways the store is a part of chain of stores formed Reliance Digital with collaboration with Apple Inc. It was basically a apple store under a new name and not entirely owned by Apple.BTW the store was quite impressive. It had a complete range of iPods (ie. from shuffle to the touch), iMacs, Macbooks, apple tv, and accessories for all of these. It had training modules for PC-to-mac switchers too. So all you Apple fans in India, owning a mac nowadays is not that hard (Except for the price part).Going inside the “iStore” was fun but listening to other customers inside was funny.9 out of 10 customers walked into the store, had the following conversation with a employee inside and walked out

Customer – Do you sell the iPhone ?

Employee -  No Sir, it is not launched in India yet.

Customer – You know when will it be launched ?

Employee – No Sir, not yet.

Customer -You know what price will it sell for ?

Employee – No Sir, not yet.

So while mentioning Apple i should also mention my first encounter with an iPhone today. I had touched an iPhone before twice but both times it was seriously just “touching”. Today I Used the iPhone for almost 15-20 minutes.No it was not at the iStore but it belonged to one of my dad’s friend who went with us to the mall. I saw him talking on the iPhone and told my dad(who all ready know my over-fascination for the iPhone)about it.He asked his friend if I could see it and he handed over the phone to me.Using it was a dream come true for me, after all I had my walls of my room covered with pictures/news articles about it, argued with anyone who criticized it and checked the news on the terms “iphone India” and “iphone” everyday on Google news. So it was a nice and beautiful using it.I checked the photos first.Zooming in …. zooming out,scrolling the contacts, the songs in iPod,Flipping away photos it all was pure fun.I wanted to see the safari browser but too bad they didn’t had wi-fi at the mall.But still nice experience using it.

OK I know I’m not a celeb yet but still I would like to write out a few quick updates/news about me as I can’t write a full paragraph on them

• I passed my Cpt ( Chartered accountancy enterence test) with 129 marks out of 200 (not bad at all regarding the fact only 15-16 % of the candidates passed ie. got 100 marks).So I’m in a delimma wheather to continue do my b.com or start doing C.A. which has got a better scope for future but is tougher than b.com.
• Listened all the tracks of “Bachena Ae Hassino”.Only licked the title one – bachena eh hassino
• Going to see “Kismat Konnection” tomorrow (yey!)
• I really like the MTV ticker
• Update – WordPress’s spell checker is really helpful, cause I got really poor spellings

So keep reading and keep commenting,

Love ya,

Tush

My First Tag & A Poem

Thanx everyone who came to my profile and read the first post. I am really happy to see the number of hits rise everyday. A part of this celebration also belongs to Ish who went on to the extent of mentioning my blog in his post. Now since I got a blog  I think I must write at least five posts a week for a couple of weeks or it will turn boring before even a month. Enough of Thanking now the post

Part 1 – The Tag

Ish gave me my first tag.I’ve always fantasized ‘answering’ one so here it comes -

1. What have you realized recently?

College life isn’t as rocking as it sounds without your school friends with you.

2. Have you given your first kiss away?

No ways, not even close to getting one.

3. If you were to be stranded on a deserted island, who are the 11 blog buddies you would take?

Well, I didn’t got any blog buddies yet! But will develop eventually as I blog so I’ll have to pass this question for now.

4. Where is the place that you want to go the most?

Many places actually. But his time it will be 5th avenue apple store. I wanna see how does it feel to be in a line to buy a new iPhone 3g.

5. If you can have 1 dream to come true, what would it be?

Perhaps a new iPhone on my table.

6. Do you believe in seeing a rainbow after the rain?

Na. I believe in playing football in the rain much more.

7. What are you afraid to lose the most now?

Well…. ahem…..mmmmm  NOTHING i guess.

8. If you win $1 million, what would you do?

Ahem.. Buy some gadgets I always wanted (iPhone3g, PS3) and invest the rest.

9. If you meet someone that you love, would you confess to him/her?

Well not a straight one, But still ask for her phone number or something and then ring her and then confess. After all she cant hit me through the phone.

10. List out 3 good points of the person who tagged you.

• Kind – I think so.
• Computer-istic   – I like people who are into computers.
• Grade-hater   – Just like me, He hates the system of rating a child’s intelligence with his/her grades.

11. What are the requirements that you wish from your other half?

Ok I got a long list of requirements but will cut short the list to – rich, sweet/cute (there’s a difference between being sweet and being sexy) , smart, humorous and ….. loyal.

12. Which type of person do you hate the most?

Rick kids who flaunt their cash .I’ve been meeting many of  these kinds lately.

13. What is the one thing you cannot live without?

My bike. I serously can’t.

14. If you have faults, would you rather the people around you point out to you or would you rather they keep quiet?

I’d say Both. Say the ones I can improve. Keep to themselves the ones I can’t do anything about.

15. What do you think is the most important thing in your life?

Myself. (sorry couldn’t think of anything else)

16. Are you a shopaholic or not?

No not at all.I’m kinda a miser.

17. Find a word to describe the person who tagged you.

mmm… Mac-ish?

18. If you have a chance. Which part of your character you would like to change?

The confidence-less one.

19. Whats the last shocking thing you’ve seen or heard?

My Bike Is out of petrol.

20. Would you rather have love but no money or money but no love?

Money but no love. Money can buy love. (Harman Baweja got Priyanka Chopra)

Part 2 – The Poem

Ok today I wrote a poem. Infact its a long story, but still I’d write whole of it. Today was the fourth day of my college. I’m still kinnda adjusting to it but its OK. So today we had a tutorial class (hereby referred to as tute).Its basically a doubt clearing session where every teacher has got a quarter of class to teach. Today was our quarter’s turn, since hardly any syllabus was covered in the class so at the tute teacher asked for everyone’s introduction. After each students introduction he asked him/her to sing a song or recite a Sher (I dunno what is it called in English. It is the one of the things Navjot Singh Siddu speaks more-than-often) or tell a joke. Although he asked every one of 17 students to do it only one of them did anything. Since I was over-nervous of my chance to speak I started rehearsing my lines in my brain. I also wanted to highlight myself in the class so I decided to recite a freshly-self-composed-poem in front of the class.So this is how my Introduction went -

Me – Hi all! I am Tushar from ***** school. I just passed my +2 with 75% marks and am doing my b.Com. I hope to do Mba after this but my real passion is computers. I wanna work for any leading computer firm after I complete my education.

Teacher – So you wanna work in a computer company as..?

Me - Sir, as a software designer.

Teacher – Ok so do you think b.Com is the correct course for it??

Me        – Sir, I plan to do a computer course along with it.

Teacher – Ok so you got anything else such as a song or a joke etc.

Me – Yes Sir, I wrote a poem about My experiences in college.

College shuru hue ho gaye hain four days,

but much of it is still a maze,

padai hai kam, masti hai zyada,

attention ka level hai aadha,

I dunno why is everyone acting so cool,

When I try to do it I end up being a fool.

Then somethimg happened I could’n even imagine.The whole class started to clap. Whatever you are it always feels good to be applauded by a class even if it comprises of just 17 students.

Ok than thats It for my day today.Hope to recieve comments for this post as the last one didnt got much, and please everyone, please do comment.

Love ya,

Tush

|=Dead End=| Review’ed (on the lighter side)

I don’t know if Ish is gonna love this or hate this but i promised him a surprise so here is it, And by the way who said surprises are always happy. But I hope this one will surely lift his mood up after the Wimbledon final.If you’re angry with it than please read on I’ve got reasons to do it-

• I wanted a kick-start for my blog and could not get a better idea.
• I wanted to practice my HTML basics to see what all I remembered.
• I wanted to see what does it feel like to examine the examiner.

And for the rest of you I’m Tush a rookie/new blogger with a brand new blog. Hope you enjoy reading this post and please come back here if you really enjoyed reading the first post.

So here The review starts -

• Title – One of the many mysteries of |=Dead End=| lies in its title.Dead end usually refers to a place which has no way out.You have to take a U-turn and move all the way back, and I don’t think this is true in reference to the Ish’s blog. OK whatsoever the readers love it.

• Design – |=Dead End=| has got one of the Best Blog Designs I’ve ever seen (BTW its the only blog I read so often) Its a decent combination of style and simplicity. White background,dual sidebar,black pictures all add to the appeal.The way dialogues or speech inputs are  added to the posts look awesome.

• Content – OK here comes the most important component of a blog .Even if you don’t got a good design, a spanking sidebar or loads of HTML tags but still if you got good magnetic content your blog will still be popular.But this one got a great Design, two superb sidebars, and tons of unbroken-HTML links to multiple videos, audio downloads and much more on the top  of it touching,emotional and fresh content. Whoa! this one is a full entertainment pack.

• Overview – |=Dead End=| “you don’t need to get further” sound a cool tag line but hey you don’t find any more fun loving,adventurous guy who once used to teach how to make Maggi and write poems so you should probably change you tag line to “Story of a 58 year old granny in a 18 year old guy” or something like that.OK jokes apart this is a good great blog to read and comment on.

So now comes the scoring.Since I’m not a professional blogger or read many blogs so I think I’m not the right person to do this but still being a ritual I’ll give you 4.5 of 5. I could have given full points but didn’t give because -

• “Nobody is perfect”
• I’m a little jealous of Ish’s blog

OK so the review is over. I know it was a little too extra-short but it is just one of the means of launching advertisement.

So how was the post, the style of writing,  and most importantly Did you enjoy reading it??? Please all of you do comment and feel free to include any suggessions/tips for future.