... is in my head.

I am an ordinary person. You'll find thousands like me in this world. I like to eat a burger in McDonald's, download the latest movies on torrents and bitch about how politicians book their 5-star accommodations at the expense of a tar road somewhere near Ranchi. I don't like to be stuck in a traffic jam, to be involved in a fist fight, or for that matter, be shouted at by someone. I try to hide myself where ever I go. I hate to be in the limelight, stared at or be talked about. Yet, I think I am special. I think deeply about what I am doing with my life, whether I will be remembered after my time, whether people will miss me when I am gone, but basically, whether I will be satisfied at the end of this fucking thing. Sometimes I get scared thinking I will remain to be this ordinary person I am, no different from the next, check in, be a goddamn robot, check out, rinse and repeat. I aspire to work well from tomorrow, next month, to be a successful human being with maybe a big mansion in a posh locality, and a BMW would add a nice touch.

So, yeah, basically, I am just like everyone else.

I read my newspapers carefully. A local goonda getting caught for shooting at his nemesis, husband stabbing his wife and his young infant whom he can't take care of, before doing it to himself, burglars raping and killing housemaid who happened to be there in the house they went to rob, and so on. They disgust me.

I watch TV and movies to make up for the sheer idiocy the people I read about. Maybe the fiction industry has intellectuals who would satisfy my thirst. But I soon found out, these people have morals. "Hearts in the right place", they call it. The good guy always wins. Bad guy loses. Always. Even Hitchcock, who I must say has been the closest anyone got to pull it off on screen convincingly, ends in morals, with bad guy giving up, or made to give up. I always support the bad guy, and I always end up disappointed. Have to hate the fucking detective sitcoms. The bad guy fucks it up every single time. I yawn every single time the smart asses catch the guy at the end of the 60 minutes. I always support the bad guy, and that guy, always disappoints me. But I need to watch this. I need to watch every single one of these things. Very carefully. People learn from their mistakes, I need to learn from other people's mistakes. What I want to do, gives no room for error. There is no second chance. There is no place for a mistake in a perfect murder.

For a murder, there has to be a motive. Murder without a motive is like a man without a soul. Like a Pizza without its base. Like paneer butter masala without paneer. Meaningless. When you see the eyes of the victim widen with terror and then shut with pain, there has to be satisfaction. The gasp for breath, the struggle for anything solid, the shooting agony, the cry for help, then the realization of the futility of it and all, and surrender, should be a source of pleasure to the murderer. Else it is wasted. I am not a psychopath, killing random people needlessly. No. My mind is as sane as anyone else's. Sane, but not so same.

It has always intrigued me, fascinated me. It haunts me in my dreams. A killing right in front everyone's face. Mocking their pathetic brains, laughing at their helpless shaking hands, and the titillation from their failure to make anything out of it. It is like modern art. Not many can appreciate it, and almost nobody can understand it. It is beautiful.

Mind works in weird ways. And there are too many of them floating around here nowadays. It makes it all very complicated. They say it is not possible to please everyone. Why please anyone I say, if you are satisfied. I look at this cynical world with the eyes it gave me. Sometimes I get sick of it all, those dry salty fries, world seen through eyes as cynical as mine in the movies, and the endless 'what we need to do to save the country talk' ends me getting more depressed and angry than before. Sometimes I think what would I do with a nice big empty house, in a locality where everyone would be stylish, mow their lawns, walk their Labradors every morning and be polite. But I never wonder why I don't like to be in the limelight. Its natural, don't you think?

So, I am waiting now. Waiting in the shadows where I belong. Waiting for that one person I feel immense hatred for. Waiting to make a plan to execute my dreams. I can see it coming soon. I can feel the tingling sensation in my hands already. Goosebumps on my skin. Like I touched a high tension wire. But the I realize it will be gone soon. And that's the beauty of it. One fleeting moment of immense happiness. One moment of satisfaction, and later looking back at it with pride. I think I will glow then. I will have a secret. A secret no one knows. A secret so terrible and so beautiful, people will be scared to decide which it is.

So, I will go back to my kitchen then, back to my recipes. Waiting. Hoping. Maybe a special customer will come, and I can cook a special dinner.

Hope its not too soon though. Still full from the dinner last night.

Why the Internet should be banned.

People call this era 'The Internet Age'. (The other contenders for this would be 'Jet Age', 'Nano Age', 'Eco age' which are so 'fail' because if you put all these against 'TIA' in a boxing ring, it would pwn them 3v1 and shout 'w00t! LOL. n00bs!', and walk away). The Internet has infiltrated our lives everywhere, from pre-schools to B-schools, from gaming to dating. If the internet were a person, then the TIME magazine's Person of the Year jury would have submitted their resignations and would go on a 'theertha yatre' to Kashi to re-think about what they have been doing with their lives.

But, the Internet has its Dark Side (Oh there always is). Here I present my best, most logical, arguments to convince you, my intelligent readers (lulz), as to why the Internet is injurious to health, and must be banned.

1. Bad language.

Internet has started this new 'cult' (or should I say, 'kvlt') which has its own kind of words, and a language which has both alphabets and numbers included in the script. 'Internet memes' they are called. As wikipedia says, Internet meme is a phrase or catchphrase which spreads quickly from person to person via the Internet. These memes include some with very bad tastes ('Leave Britney Alone') to very bad grammar ('All your base are belong to us'). They quickly mix with the non-virtual language and destroy the English language (oh noes). Now we will have people who'll say ROFLMAO when you tell them a funny joke, or say 'you've been rickrolled!' when they play a prank on you and you find yourself watching Rick Astley dance on the monitor instead of a movie you were supposed to watch (who the *beep* is Rick Ashtley anyway?). We need to stop the advance of this l33t language culture, before they start labeling your cats with stickers saying 'I can haz cheeseburgerz?'

2. Social Networking.

When Orkut first came out, everybody seemed to be on it. We could meet long lost friends, 'scrap' them, form communities to hate Chelsea FC and flame in the posts, oh the bliss. After two years, it just seemed to lose the fizz. When everyone thought the era social networking is over, bham! came Facebook and Twitter. Now you can tell everyone what you are doing, your friends can 'like' it (oo shiny), and most importantly, you can play the quizzes there and find out exactly which character of Teletubbies you most resemble. These sites have been a source of addiction in the youth of the country today. A latest research showed that youngsters are spending 53.5% more time on Facebook playing Mafia Wars and Farmville, which has taken toll on their social lives, and has also been a reported cause of The Bangalore Pub Owners' Association to go on a strike urging the government to ban the networking sites.

3. TMI (Too Much Information)

Internet is a storehouse of information, in its very concentrated form (Rho is in the range of duodecillians if I am right), and everyday, it gets denser and denser. This humongous pile of information, don't tell me I didn't warn you, could kill you. Ever heard of that guy? He mugged Wikipedia so much that his head is expanded and expanded till it exploded to reveal pieces of brain, 2 bullets and a DVD of Windows Vista inside (also was reported that after the explosion his head was shaped like the Uncyclopedia logo). True story. Not so serious info-mugging can just lead to a bloated head like Amitabh Bachchan in 'Paa', the Powerpuff Girls and Paris Hilton.

I hope I have convinced that Internet is the most dangerous this around in the world today (except of course, Swine flu (Oops, H1N1) and Chuck Norris). So, let me end the argument by telling what Archimedes said 2200 years ago. QED.

(Written for the fest magazine of TransIT '09, a day before my internals at 12 pm in the night. Yep.)

Me and You

He opened his eyes.

The sunshine was making a beautiful golden hue all around. Air smelled of fresh rain on mud. The sunlight was dancing on the surface of the lake like a procession of lights. Trees surrounded the lake. It was an oasis in the desert of trees. His escape from the world.

He was sitting behind a tree. Hiding. He was crouched like an embryo, his hands pulling his knees to his chest. He had dark, hawk like eyes, which seemed to absorb everything it saw. They were constantly moving, as though looking at a tense football game.

He thought to himself : 'I need to go and buy soap'.

He stood up. He was wearing a plain green shirt and black jeans. He put on his slippers and made his way through the sea of trees to the road where his car was parked. He revved the engine and zoomed on the smooth road, his window open, enjoying the cool air.

At a distance he could see a lone figure, standing by the road. He saw that the man was asking for a lift. He stopped the car and opened the door and said, 'Hop in'.

I hopped in.

'Thanks', I said, with genuine gratitude.

'No problemo. Where are you upto?'

'The bus stand. I hope you are going till there?'

He smiled. 'Don't worry. I am going into the town'

He looked at me, as though trying to judge me by my appearance. He made no comment, turned his head forward, back to his driving. We were in silence for several minutes.

I took out a coke can from my jacket pocket and broke the newly formed ice.

'Want coke?'

'No, I don't drink coke'

'Why not?'

'Soft drinks are unhealthy'

'Yeah but, coke tastes good. Mountain Dew tastes good'

'7up may taste like strawberry milkshake but I'm no drinking that piece of crap'

'Are you that health conscious? Do you like, never eat oily food?'

'No, not that health conscious, but I saw what happens when you put mentos into coke. Nothing which does that goes into my goddamn mouth', he declared with finality.

'If you start thinking like that, you need to stay away from a lot of things', I said quietly.

'Why so?', he asked, surprised.

'Many things you see you see as harmless, aren't really so. Take little kids for instance. One kid is good. Fun. Make it ten kids, ten minutes in that room, you'll start searching for a razor'

'Yeah, well, I don't want ten kids anyway'

'You didn't get my point. What I wanted to tell you was that you can make bad from good'

'Example'

'Did you know if you mix gasoline and frozen orange juice concentrate you can make napalm?'

'Really?'

'Yeah. This reminds me of a story by Tolstoy. A kind hearted farmer is turned into a wife-beating, ever-fighting scum by an imp who just teaches him how to distil spirit wheat grains from his fields'

He thought for a while.

'The beast within eh?', he said.

'Precisely', I smiled.

'You know what I say? Living with a beast within is better than with one outside'

I laughed.

'Hey, drop me right here', I said, pointing at the approching sign of the bus stand.

'Sure thing', he took the car to the left and skidded to a halt.

'Thanks for the ride', I said, smiling radiantly at him.

'You didn't tell me who you are', he pointed out.

'What?'

'What do you do for a living?'

'Soap. I make, and sell, soap. Here's my card', I winked.

He stared at the card for a long time. His head was humming. He suddenly realized and turned mouth open, to speak something.

I wasn't there.

Chop Suey

I woke up.

I couldn't open my eyes. But it was dark. I could feel it.

I shuffled slightly where I sat. My arms wouldn't move. It was as though the heavy darkness was weighing it down. Not that I wanted to move them anyway.

There isn't a thing you can do in this 5x5 room I have been locked up in.

I tried opening my eyes, gave up the futile attempt. Its the same outside.

Suddenly, I was standing. I swayed my arms around, searching. Nothing. It looked like I was standing on solid ground. I carefully put my leg forward, and suddenly pulled it back. There was nothing.

I was on the precipice.

Brilliant light pierced my eyes. It was as though someone had switched on the floodlights of a stadium at the middle of the night.

I was indeed on the edge of a cliff. It wasn't a free fall though. The cliff curved into something between the shape of a 'C' and a 'U', the shape of a crescent moon. The surface was smooth as marble. There was heavy mist in the air, I could barely make out the end of the curve. Everything else looked smudged. Just when I was wondering what should I be doing here I realized, I had something under my right foot.

Oh look, a skateboard.

I put my left leg on the skateboard, gave myself a push using my right foot, and let myself go. The frosty wind rushed to my face. I could barely open my eyes. I still tried to open them. Bad idea. Tears started streaming out due to the sheer force of the wind. They trickled down my cheek making a cold path.

I let myself go.

I was stretching my arms like Jesus Christ. I reached the edge, and due to the momentum, I was projected into the chilly air. I thought my heart would give away, judging by the frequency and the loudness of the beats. I closed my eyes and just sunk into the joy of flying. So free, so liberating.

'To fly like a bird in the open skies..', someone had said.
I landed. I was all dark again. I was on top of the cliff again. I must have traced a circular trajectory.

Oh look, a skateboard under my right foot.

I was in the dark room again.

I sniffed. The room smelled of rust, my own sweat, my own guilt.

Slowly, I found something wrong with the air. I was breathing deeply, but I still seemed to want more.

Oh damn.

I pushed my eyes open. The fear seemed to give me strength. I looked around. There was no opening in this godforsaken place. I was suffocating. My hands still wouldn't move. Sigh.

I woke up.

Clear sunshine was streaming into my face, making a beautiful golden hue all around. The air was warm, smelled of fresh rain falling on the earth. Looks like I was out of my 5x5 box after all.

I can, I thought. If I try.

Did I really wake up?

I don't know.

"I have to believe in a world outside my own mind. I have to believe my actions still have meaning. I have to believe when my eyes are closed, the world is still here."

The Unusual Suspects

I have heard of stories of people getting sudden enlightenment and jolts of never-before-known knowledge under a tree. Be it Siddhartha under the Mahabodhi tree, becoming The Buddha, or Isaac Newton getting plonked on the head by a rogue apple and becoming the Newton-guy-who-discovered-gravity (Disclaimers: Frankly dudes, I don't give a damn. Its a good story, and it makes sense. I still see Newton as a man thinking with his chin on his hand, while an apple is falling from the tree onto his rockstar-hairdo. Even wikipedia says this happened, so stfu).

I tried this actually. I sat and meditated under the banyan tree, under the peepal tree, under the gulmohar tree, and even under the mango tree (I might have had more than one intention there, but thats not the point), and as you can see, I ain't got no understanding about the absolute truth of life. Yet.

I have learnt some stuff till now. Foremost of them is that my chances of getting uber-knowledge under a tree is as high as Quentin Tarantino making a romantic comedy. Its true however, that I have found small pieces of knowledge in the most unexpected places.

1. After watching a kick-ass dishum dishum movie, me and my friend were walking down Brigade Road (yeah, you know why) discussing the movie loudly, when suddenly out of the blue he says :

"You know what the sad thing about life is? The best moments don't last. You know, I wish it was like this movie. I wish I could go home and watch it over and over again somehow, just skipping the boring and the sad parts".

This coming from someone who thought James Hadley Chase is the best author in the world.

2. Teachers can be funny.
Once our lecturer said, 'I'll tell you a guys a joke today'

We eagerly anticipated the joke, to fake the laughter later.

'Which is more smart, a triangle or a square?'

'Triangle sir, it looks "sharp"'

'No pa. Ok, don't know aa? See the joke has a bit of tamil joke ok? Square I say, because it has naal-edgu. *Stupid smile* Did you fallow me? Yes now tell me, which is more smart now, square or an octagon?"

'Er, sqaure because it has naal-edgu, octogon has ent-edgu'?

'No pa, octogon. Octogon has EXTRA naal-edgu'

*Chorus of fake hahahah*

Yeah, they can be pretty stupid too.

This teacher, once told me, "Life is like a lathe machine. Your soul is the workpiece. Life holds you and spins you. You are the operator. You are always in control. Its your duty shape your soul, the way you want it to be"

Sorry for the mech fundae, but still pretty impressive I must say.

3. I am one of the people for whom nature calls pretty often.

I have missed several buses, several classes, and more recently, climax of movies because of The Call. Once while answering The Call in a public restroom, there it was written:

"The most difficult moments make you appreciate how beautiful your life is. Without the lower moments, you wouldn't be able to appreciate the height of your happier ones".

I found this hilarious, meaningful at the same time.

Maybe The Call makes people philosophical.

4. South Park rules!

I just used to watch it just for the humour. But the this speech by Kyle, changed my perception of South Park. This is Imaginationland part III episode, where the govt. decides to nuke 'Imaginationland' where all imaginary things created by humans live.

"I think they are real. They are all real. Think about it. Haven't Luke Skywalker and Santa Claus affected your life than most real people in this room? I mean, whether Jesus is real or not, he's had a bigger imapct on the world than any of us have.. and the same could be said for Bugs Bunny, Superman and Harry Potter. They've changed my life.. changed the way I act on the earth. Doesn't that make them kind of real? They might be imaginary, but they are more important than most of us here.. and they're all going to be around long after we are dead. So, in a way, those things are more real-er than any of us"

Applause.

A wise-guy named Sarvajna once said,

"Taking small bits of knowledge from everyone, Sarvajna has become a mountain of knowledge"

That, for me, is the only way to get enlightened. Don't waste your time under trees.

Heaven?

I am not a believer is Gandhigiri. But I do believe that 'An eye of an eye makes the whole world blind'. I am more of an extremist, I look up to Azad, Bhagat Singh, who died in a meaningful battle, to free their homeland from the occupiers. But I do not get the point of the recent 'extremists' who seem to fight for nothing but to spread fear in the world they live in.
This was in the offing but the current state in Mumbai just acted as a catalyst. I will not go as far as http://www.faithfreedom.org/ to condemn anyone, but whatever do you get by taking innocent tourists into hostage, without any demands? Does god send people to heaven for such criminal acts? Is this what you call as a 'Holy War'? There can be no 'heaven' waiting for people who take 135+ lives, whatever religion they may follow.
Our government looks to have taken a very soft stand on terror. After 9/11 in the US of A, there has been no major acts of terrorism. That's what we call learning through experience. But we, the very hospitable citizens of India, are planning to give a pardon to a guy, who attacked our parliament, and hence the heart of the whole country. The government needs give powers to the ATS, instead of playing vote-bank politics just to please the minorities.
Sometimes I dream of all this ending, living in a peaceful world, where everyone respects each other, and most importantly, let them live their life.

As the 'Stairway to Heaven' says,

And its whispered that soon, if we all call the tune,
Then the piper will lead us to reason.
And a new day will dawn, for those who stand long,
And the forests will echo with laughter.


I hope.

Death and Decay

The Light pierced through the charcoal sky
From the lone beacon standing;
I saw it once, now its gone again,
Its time to start the mourning.

The Heart is is still, the Soul is crying,
All alone now, its time to pay;
The Light gives me strength no more,
Its time for Death and Decay.

Love and Hate

Crackers and me have been quite distant from each other for the past 6 years, reasons three :
1. A big 'green' activity group coming to school making us swear to god not to burst crackers ever again.
2. My newly acquired knowledge about the noise and smoke produced by the crackers.
3. (The one which 'might'(very slightly) have tilted the scales) They're scary!!

The small, green, innocent looking bundle of thread when set on fire makes such a big noise, you can never get used to it >.<. Especially not when the small-kid-next-door bursts right next to you when you are out on the day, though fully aware there are bound to be land-mines everywhere.
The reason that I am scared of them can be attributed to one primary incident, which happened around the same time when the above(more important) reasons started influencing my cracker bursting life.
That night, I took a normal, a 6-inch-long sparkler (better known as sur-sur-batti) to light up a 'pilley' flower pot. I lit it up using a candle, holding the flower pot on my left hand. Placing the flower-pot carefully on the freshly-tarred road, and bent to light it up. Small sparks oozed out of the flower pot as I touched its tip with the sur-sur-batti's dancing sparks. I ran back, to watch the flower pot show its majestic glory.
Nothing happened. The sparks went back to bed. Ayyo tuss pataki. Went close to check if the flame was off and to see if the pot was re-lightable, I bent down.
BANG!
The flower pot, which was supposed to emit colourful sparks so that the little children can clap, and the others would watch it in awe, that friggin conical piece of cardboard and paper and phosphorous and god-knows-what, exploded right on my face! Fortunately, no pieces of it came to me, and no lasting injury on me, unless you consider the sprouting of the seed of hatred for the crackers in me.
Ironically, crackers found their way to my home yet again this year, thanks to my cracker-enthusiast father :x
Crackers may have all their what-dyou-call-ems, negative points, but on the perfectly clear nights the Deepavali festival always promises, sitting on the balcony, watching people run when they light the crackers, smile when it explodes, watch in wonder when it shows its multi-coloured magnificence, the beauty of the pitch-black night sky when its lit up with green and yellow and red, carries you to a different world.

Hate

This is a story I found very recently in a Tinkle. I loved it so much that I thought I'd share it with all of you. It was supposedly written by some German author. So, I don't deserve any originality credits for this. ;).

Neighbours
Georgv and Uhrlich were two boys from two very rich and powerful families in Germany. Their properties were next to each other separated by a patch of forest. Due to the fight for the ownership of this patch of forest, there was severe enmity between the two families, and it showed itself in Georgv and Uhrlich too.
They grew up hating each other and when they inherited their respective properties, their hatred only intensified. If anyone related to the other family was found, they were imprisoned without water or food until proper ransom was paid.
One night, Georgv was having his supper with his wife. A storm was building up. Suddenly, a sound which sounded like a gunshot pierced the silence of the night.
Georgv sprung up from his chair. "Looks like Uhrlich's men are hunting in the forest".
His wife protested the disturbance to the supper. "Let them be !"
"Its high time I show them who the real owner is"
"Listen to the wind outside ! Its suicide to go into the forest on a night like this !"
Nothing could Georgv at that moment. He grabbed his rifle and put on a big coat. All the hate right from his childhood was coming out now. Even the nature was angry. Its growled, it rumbled, the wind was cruel...
"You!"
It was Uhrlich. He too was holding his rifle.
There was a loud roar of thunder.
" Your luck has run out Uhrlich!", Georgv growled, "The law says I can shoot poachers. This time you won't leave the forest alive !"
"You think so?"
Georgv shot. It whistled by Uhrlich's ears.
It was Uhrlich's turn. He took aim.
CRASH !
A heavy tree fell on the two men trapping them beneath its massive branches. The two foes lay there inches away from each other, each silently enduring the pain of broken bones. Despite their plight, their hatred remained alive.
"My men will be here soon", Uhrlich moaned, " And when they do, things look black for you dear neighbour!"
"My men won't be gentle with you if they get here first either"
But even after an hour there was no sign of rescue party from either side. The night became bitterly cold. Both men were chilled to the bone. Slowing, painfully Uhrlich reached into his coat pocket and found a small flask containing soup. He took a big satisfying gulp of it. He felt a little warmer. He looked at Georgv. Georgv looked frozen and very much in pain. Uhrlich felt a tinge of pity for him.
"Listen, I have some soup", Uhrlich said. "Can you move your hand to take it?"
Georgv didn't reply. The wind was howling. He spoke after a long silence.
"Perhaps I misjudged you", Georgv said, pain evident from his voice. "I feel too nauseous to drink, but I appreciate your kindness. Neither of of our families have showed any neighbourly concern for centuries"
"That is true Georgv. Let us end our enmity. Let bygones be bygones."
"I feel that way too. Let us bury our past", said Georgv. "When my men come, I will tell them to attend to you first. That will show everyone a beginning of a new friendship".
"If my men come earlier", said Uhrlich. "I will do the same. I will insist they take you out before me"
There were distant footsteps footsteps heard.
"They're coming!", cried Georgv."They must be your men as they are coming from your direction"
"I cannot rise my head to look. How many?"
"I cannot see properly in the darkness. But I can make out six or seven shapes outlined against the horizon.
Slowly time passed.
"They're coming closer...", said Georgv,"Uhrlich ! they're not.... "
"Not my men?", said Uhrlich, "Your's then?"
" No, Uhrlich, They are not men at all"
"Not men ! You have lost your senses"
"No, neighbour. I have not lost my senses. I can see them clearly now. They're.. they're.. ", screamed Georgv, fear etched in every word he spoke.
"WOLVES !"

"We hate some persons because we do not know them; and will not know them because we hate them" ~Charles Caleb Colton

Life is too short. There is no time for hate here.

In Murphy, I trust.

Statement of Murphy's law : If something can go wrong, it will.

Some of my favourite corollaries :
- Left to themselves, things tend to go from bad to worse.
- If everything seems to be going well, you have obviously overlooked something.
- When a body is immersed in water, the telephone rings.
- Matter will be damaged in direct proportion to its value.
- All the good ones will be taken.
- To err is human, but it feels divine.

Its actually quite scary that everything in nature follows this law, when you least expect (and want) it to. I laugh to myself daily while picking up my fathers cell, which rings, without fail, whenever his goes to the bathroom. You see that whenever you have a high influx of buses in the bus stop, auto-rickshaws will be going extra-slow near the bus stops trying to tempt the people to their cozy, empty autos. Whenever the buses are hard to come by, or worse, its raining and you don't have an umbrella, you will see that the autos are full, or they won't come where you want, or worse, charge double or triple the meter price and leave you in a dilemma.
Our BMTC buses could easily become the brand ambassadors of Murphyism.
Everyday morning, me, Chetan and many other friends wait for our buses to college or at least, to Vijaynagar (i.e., 401s, 236). The most common sight in the 1st block bus stand : 80s series. There are at least four 80 series buses a minute, and how we wish desperately that all the 80s to be magically converted to 236s. After [0, 30] minutes of anxious waiting, we get a bus.
One fine day, we want to goto Navrang to Vinay's house. Though we could have easily walked to Navrang in 20 minutes, we decided to goto 1st block and then catch and 80. That would take us only 17 minutes and we could wring out more use from our bus pass. And as you would have expected the climax, the infinite fountain of 80s had dried up. A bus which we could get every 20 seconds in the morning, we got it after 20 minutes. But the irony of it all is, we saw 5 empty 401s go past us in that twenty minutes! you may not appreciate it, but its a special type of 'hotte-uri' reserved for regular commuters.
One more instance :
I internal test in college. Physics and Basic Mech. Engg. on the same day. Deadly combo with lots of theory to mug (esp. me who hadn't studied a rat's tail before tests started). After physics exam we started studying BME. I saw that I had missed the diagram for GeoThermal energy source in my notes. I asked
Me : "Hey, someone give me diag for geothermal"
"Wait da. I'll give you after I finished. but I don't think it'll be given, compared to others, its a joke !"
Me : "OK. Chuck it." And I didn't study it.
Very, predictably, 1st question in the paper : Explain GeoThermal energy and give its advanteages and disadvantages. Shit.
But fortunately, we had choices and the rest of the exam went well. So, all is well that ends well.

To, have the best chances to minimize the effect of Murphy's laws I heard this advice somewhere :
" Hope for the best and prepare for the worst "

Murphy may strike anytime ;).




Murphyism for our DebSoc guys : Never argue with a fool. People might not know the difference.