We left college after we were bored of sitting on the bench staring into empty cafeteria and empty everything. Of course it was because it was Saturday and a sem end to add more enptiness to the coll building. But we i. e. myself, my friend Alok(another nerd turned 'vaaya gelela mulga') and Kaustubh were in a good mood. We smuggled our SSW files from lab(For all good reasons.). Special thanks to Gajanan and his acrobatic moves. Jumped in via a 10 inch lab window. Meanwhile, Modi sir came out of nowhere to have a chat. You cant avoid this brilliant man. So we told Gaja to hide inside while we are finished with Modi sir. Poor chap(Gaja)
We tailed Modi sir's exit in a white WagonR. The bus came when it thought it should as usual.
Then we were at Plaza thinking what to do next. Going home was no good option. We(Read: Alok) had done a whole night's hardwork to do well today. And without any expectation whatsoever the external said 'ye abhitak ka sabse acchha grp tha' to my group of three.Equal credit to Ashti and Deep Dinesh Waghela(Doesn't that sound like Vijay Deenanath Chauhan?).
I wish I could go for a viva with a duct tape wound to these people's mouth.
Again back to Plaza, we decided that we(Me and Alok) will accompany Kaustubh aka Kos to get a cold drink. (Actually to help Kos to cope with loneliness that comes out of living alone at his Aunty's deserted house. I won't fascinate staring at empty house after staring at empty college corridoors ) The usual hot spot was the shop near Dattatray(I fear that hotel. Ate there for nearly a month when I had shifted for 1 month into my grandmother's empty house at Shivaji Park for my first term test at new coll. I swore afterwords never to eat there again).
We sat for 15 minuits in the scarce chairs in front of the shop thinking what to drink, who will pay,kiska kispe kitna udhaar hai etc. When the other customers started giving us stares for sitting there doing nothing, we decided to order something. Carrot juice for me and Alok(We keep on having these 'health attacks'. Alok even justified it saying 'good for eyes'.) and Kokam for Kos(who was quick 2 point out that it was the least priced item out there)
The hot summer afternoon meant we finished within single gulp.
After half an hour, we were still there encroaching the chairs. Thats when I felt that the shopkeeper will jump from behind the galla and kick us out(Or may be just say so).
So I had an idea 'Why no go to park?'. Kos is ever ready for park. So we dragged a reluctant Alok('Zopaaychay Yaaar') to Park.
There is a nice bench in the shadow of a peeple tree behind Meenatai Thakre Statue. We ran to grab it. A couple that was just behind us sighed. Maybe we stole their fav spot(Hata Saawan ki ghata. So be it.)
Our chat continued- encompassing college, career, daily life and girls.
But park has always some entertainment(It was 3:45, so no bebs encircling the ground to burn the extra fat. So entertainment is to be seen in different light here.)
So we are just chatting and looking here and there when man appeared from inside the park(we couldn't see where he exactly came from) clutching another man's collar, cursing and abusing him. 'Aapas ka lafada hogaa' we concluded and didn't give them a second look.
Again after 10 minutes, the same man(the collar clutcher) comes out of park(We did not see him going him back in again.)This time he had yet another man with him.(A sophisticated bespectacled guy in white shirt and a blue jeans- call him chikna). The chikna was warning the other man-'Haath mat lagana. Baat karo naa aap' .The collar clutcher man however was not impressed with it.
Thats when we smelled rat(So did the other people sitting around).
The chikna was now escorted out of the park in a hurdle of overenthusiastic bystanders. To a shed that housed a jugaadu police chowki on the other side of the road. 2-3 overweight havaldars sported a wicked smile at the newly arrived guest- chikna. Meanwhile chikna was fumbling with his cellphone to find a contact that will get him out of this. So the collar clutcher man was a plaincloth policeman(We missed his unmistakable police boots. So did Chikna). Still we (and most of the onlookers) had no clue why the chikna was being booked. Maybe he was some gangster.
We did not have to wait to long to get the answer. 2 overenthu bystanders who were part of above mentioned hurdle were again walking in. We gave them a questioning look. One of the guy then said in an unmistakable Bihari accent- 'Dekhaa...ground pe peesaab karneka nateeja...', while the other guy flashed his tobacco clad teeth- he was having fun.
We took a second to make sence and then burst out laughing. What the bloody hell!
It meant that the collor clutcher was catching people who were peeing inside the park. lol.
Just when we thought Chikna will escape by doing some maandavli or will get away with chaipani for men in khaaki, a police jeep arrived on the spot, Chikna was pushed in (with handcuffs) the Jeep and it wroomed away towards Sena Bhavan. Closely following it was a Zee TV car. Bad luck chikna. If ZEE NEWS' reputition for lack of content is to be trusted, they can certeinly make a 'breaking news' out of this!!!
Sochta hoga 'Kya karne nikla tha aur kya ho gaya...'
Maybe Chikna was just sitting on katta with his girlfriend...thats when he feels he cant stop for even a second...says'aalo zara 2 minuitat' goes in towards ground...finds a barely visible spot...huushhh...'ai udhaar kya kar raha hai...'Collar clutcher enters the scene.
Then we started imagining how chikna must be feeling! Ok... If u want to get booked, then do it for a respectable crime(eg. in our city- drunken driving, mowing unfortunate people sleeping on footpath in your landcruiser). What will he say 2 his friends- I was booked...for peeing!!!
Then after he gets bail, some funny looking Zee TV guy asking him...'Aapko kaisa Mehsus ho raha hai...'
What will a frustrated chikna say then? 'Teri @#$%$' 'They dont even have a urinal at the police station...Pleez u knw some nearby place'(I bet the Zee TV guy will smile and suggest him another public place to pee. Then he will run a sting op.'Aaankhe phaadkar dekhiye ye darinda kaise aapke shehar mein gandagi faila raha hai...gaurrse dekhiye iss masoom chehre ko...ye insaan sareaam, dindahaade sheharme peshaab kiye ja raha hai...' )
Oh my god!!! we were clutching our bellies to ease the pain that comes out of excessive laughing, about to fall off.
Thats when we realized it was 4:30. Time to go. We gathered ourselves and walked out, still trying to contain the laugh.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Sunday, April 19, 2009
The CID - My favourite(?) TV serial
OK, this post is just a time killing exercise. Actually I have a post on recession in the pipeline(It started as a single page and now looks like a novel. Further it is much serious than my usual stuff. I can't let it clog the pipeline though.)
Coming back to topic at hand, I must say that CID was(underline) my favorite serial on TV up to the point when I stopped making sence of things and started laughing at it as if it was some comedy show.
As it is evident from the question mark in the title, I am unto no good as usual.
Let's start with the characters.
Daya: This guy is the giant CID man. He skillfully uses his talent to...umm...to break the doors!
Whenever the victim doesn't open the door, or it is locked from inside, ACP Pradyumna just shakes his head as if signalling a bull to enter the ring...And then bang... The bull...umm...Daya does the magic. In just one thud, the door slams open(Even cardboard door wont open like that). Sometimes they have shown the doors falling straight to ground and the rough and tough CID people walking on it. God bless them(The doors I mean). Moral of the story- if your doorbell rings and you hear "Darvaza kholo- CID". Don't bother to open. This guy will do the job for you.
[P.S. This guy looks more like a bouncer outside a nightclub]
Fredricks: Guess what- he is the director of the serial. He plays a dumb ass policeman junior in rank. I should refrain from mocking him. Other CID characters are already doing that job. Maybe he is their official scapegoat or something! On one show he acknowledges that his wife beats him hard. I cried that day for Fredricks. Poor chap! In the bureau he is mocked by CID people and when he goes home after days work...his wife takes charge.
But there is a silver lining to the cloud. Whenever CID enters a crime scene and ACP says something like'Chappa chappa chhan maro' this guy is always the one who finds something and screams 'siiirrr!' in the same tone Archimedes must have said 'Eureka!'(Archimedes had run naked to the king's palace after saying that. Thank god Fredricks is no Archimedes)
Abhijeet: this is one good CID man who for a change behaves like a policemen. He is a colourful guy though. Has affair in one show or something. Loses his memory in another. This list grows very long. However, in every show, in the middle of nowhere he gets a call on his cell to which he says an awestruck'kya?'. Then stylishly cuts the call. 'Sir, falane falane jagah pe ek lash mili hai' he says stereotypically to ACP.
The ACP: Shivaji Satam: He is the boss. Now to be frank, he makes such facial expressions like- weird narrowing and widening of eyes throughout the show that i feel he will make a good scarecrow. Otherwise he scores well on acting front.
Dr. Salunkhe: He is another high ranking psycho to feature in this serial. He works as the head of forensics department (Recently I saw the serial after several months-only to see Dr. Salunkhe the bald man having a hot woman assistant. I felt jealous). He is, as ACP rightly puts it-'Mudadon se baatein karnewala aadmi'
Actually, his lab can provide me a heap of things to mock.The lab has several interconnected glass tubes containing some god damned colorful solutions.(Maybe Dr.Salunkhe uses them as showpieces. Contemporary interior designing. ) So he can dig almost anything from a dead body, from blood traces on nails to cyanide traces in intestine and what not. I am most amused by his 23rd century lab(Yes!). You take a petridish put something in it, scan(thats what they say) it and tadaaa... something starts glowing. 'Yes!' both Salunkhe and ACP(with narrowed eyes) scream.
The lady officer: This is recently introduced character that has only 2 jobs:
1. To look steaming hot(I will become a havaldar if this kind of women ever make it to police force).
2. To slap a woman culprit.
The time travel: Yes thats what i call it. If you observe carefully, when the show is nearing the end and the CID people and audiences know who is the culprit, the only part remains is culprit conceding he has done the dirty job. The trick is- when he/she refuses to do so, one of the CID guy(The hot lady officer if culprit is a woman) slaps the culprit and tadaaa...magic again... the culprit gets up from floor in the CID bureau rubbing his cheek. The catch is he is shown to be slapped at an xyz place but when the slap lands square on his cheek he is suddenly in the bureau. This happens every episode. Check it to have a decent laugh.
The Supercomputer:Believe it or not, they have a supercomputer. Just enter the person's name and all data about him is right in front of you. The GUI of this PC is a bit absurd though. Looks more like a green C compiler.
Thats all folks. I got to write a wave theory exam tomorrow. So gotta sleep. Good night. Sleep tight(!)
Coming back to topic at hand, I must say that CID was(underline) my favorite serial on TV up to the point when I stopped making sence of things and started laughing at it as if it was some comedy show.
As it is evident from the question mark in the title, I am unto no good as usual.
Let's start with the characters.
Daya: This guy is the giant CID man. He skillfully uses his talent to...umm...to break the doors!
Whenever the victim doesn't open the door, or it is locked from inside, ACP Pradyumna just shakes his head as if signalling a bull to enter the ring...And then bang... The bull...umm...Daya does the magic. In just one thud, the door slams open(Even cardboard door wont open like that). Sometimes they have shown the doors falling straight to ground and the rough and tough CID people walking on it. God bless them(The doors I mean). Moral of the story- if your doorbell rings and you hear "Darvaza kholo- CID". Don't bother to open. This guy will do the job for you.
[P.S. This guy looks more like a bouncer outside a nightclub]
Fredricks: Guess what- he is the director of the serial. He plays a dumb ass policeman junior in rank. I should refrain from mocking him. Other CID characters are already doing that job. Maybe he is their official scapegoat or something! On one show he acknowledges that his wife beats him hard. I cried that day for Fredricks. Poor chap! In the bureau he is mocked by CID people and when he goes home after days work...his wife takes charge.
But there is a silver lining to the cloud. Whenever CID enters a crime scene and ACP says something like'Chappa chappa chhan maro' this guy is always the one who finds something and screams 'siiirrr!' in the same tone Archimedes must have said 'Eureka!'(Archimedes had run naked to the king's palace after saying that. Thank god Fredricks is no Archimedes)
Abhijeet: this is one good CID man who for a change behaves like a policemen. He is a colourful guy though. Has affair in one show or something. Loses his memory in another. This list grows very long. However, in every show, in the middle of nowhere he gets a call on his cell to which he says an awestruck'kya?'. Then stylishly cuts the call. 'Sir, falane falane jagah pe ek lash mili hai' he says stereotypically to ACP.
The ACP: Shivaji Satam: He is the boss. Now to be frank, he makes such facial expressions like- weird narrowing and widening of eyes throughout the show that i feel he will make a good scarecrow. Otherwise he scores well on acting front.
Dr. Salunkhe: He is another high ranking psycho to feature in this serial. He works as the head of forensics department (Recently I saw the serial after several months-only to see Dr. Salunkhe the bald man having a hot woman assistant. I felt jealous). He is, as ACP rightly puts it-'Mudadon se baatein karnewala aadmi'
Actually, his lab can provide me a heap of things to mock.The lab has several interconnected glass tubes containing some god damned colorful solutions.(Maybe Dr.Salunkhe uses them as showpieces. Contemporary interior designing. ) So he can dig almost anything from a dead body, from blood traces on nails to cyanide traces in intestine and what not. I am most amused by his 23rd century lab(Yes!). You take a petridish put something in it, scan(thats what they say) it and tadaaa... something starts glowing. 'Yes!' both Salunkhe and ACP(with narrowed eyes) scream.
The lady officer: This is recently introduced character that has only 2 jobs:
1. To look steaming hot(I will become a havaldar if this kind of women ever make it to police force).
2. To slap a woman culprit.
The time travel: Yes thats what i call it. If you observe carefully, when the show is nearing the end and the CID people and audiences know who is the culprit, the only part remains is culprit conceding he has done the dirty job. The trick is- when he/she refuses to do so, one of the CID guy(The hot lady officer if culprit is a woman) slaps the culprit and tadaaa...magic again... the culprit gets up from floor in the CID bureau rubbing his cheek. The catch is he is shown to be slapped at an xyz place but when the slap lands square on his cheek he is suddenly in the bureau. This happens every episode. Check it to have a decent laugh.
The Supercomputer:Believe it or not, they have a supercomputer. Just enter the person's name and all data about him is right in front of you. The GUI of this PC is a bit absurd though. Looks more like a green C compiler.
Thats all folks. I got to write a wave theory exam tomorrow. So gotta sleep. Good night. Sleep tight(!)
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Let's take revenge! Let's vote!
Our protagonist is an engineering student. (So what? Iddhar toh koibhi chhachhundhar engg karta hai. Baaat karta hai...). Lets give him a nice name. Or lets drop the idea(i got a friend with every name i can think of. I don't want to risk his/her temper).
Mr. Protagonist lives in a suburb of city of Mumbai(Right! the one that was banged by terror attacks that were covered 24*7 on cnn. You missed it? What a show it was!You can tune into a pakistani news channel. They run these things live!). Oh! Sorry for aberration. Lets shorten the name Mr.Prota. He is around 19-20 years old. The day i am talking about changed Prota's life.
Prota got up late in the morning(what do you expect? he spent the whole midnight mugging up the books). The doorbell rang and prota attended it. It was the postman. Prota was overwhelmed to see his name on the letter(akhir kisiko toh meri zarurat hai... shayad kisi companine call letter bheja ho... campus interview achha gaya tha...2 lakh to 2 lakh kuchh saal nikal lenge). He glanced at the postman full of gratitude, his sleep deprived, darkcircled eyes .glowing.(postman aapne aapse: arre ye aise kyu dekh raha hai. system kharab hai kya...kaise kaise log mil jaate hai...) . Then he glanced at the letter. To his horror, it was not from ne company. Written on it in bold letters was-
Election Commission of India
It read-
Your name is included in the voters list. Your voter ID is ^%*%
Please verify the details that will appear on the ID card- ^*@#^#*
Prota frowned at the spelling mistakes in his own name.(Who runs this commission? panchavi pass?) . Whatever.(Kaun apani phokat ki chhutti chhodke vote karega... passportke liye lagta hai shayad ye ID...) . He casually threw it on the sofa.
Prota's mobile started ringing-'Craawwling in my skiiiinn... these wounds thew wiill not heeeal...fear is ho... '
(Prota's sis)'Kya ringtone hai... subah subah bheja fry... mere bhai utha naa jaldi... Prota had almost forgotten of her presence.
Prota pressed talk. 'Namaskar. Hum Blah blah Party Se Bol Rahe Hai. Hamara Lakshya hai 2020 tak vikasit bharat. Kripaya blah bla ko hi vote de. Dhanyavad'. Line went dead.'Kya #$%^ develop karenge saale rasteke gaddhe buzane nahi aate...Is candidate par to 100 cases filed hai corruption ke liye... development my foot'. 'Watch your words prota' Prota's sis was back to play her 'elder' role.
Prota barely heard her. He had stuffed his ears with earphones listening to his favorite song. 'You can run... you can hide ... but you cant escape my love...'
Just a few seconds passed and Prota's i pod was humbled by the loud noise comming from outside. Prota reluctantly walked to the window.'Tai Mai Akka... Vichaaar kara Pakka... Cyclevar mara shikka..." 'Uhh... This guy is saturating the transistors in the amplifier. Hey sis... local goons are back in action.They are fielding a veteran gangster. haha.'
'I know. But i dont think he stands any chance against the biggies' replied the sis. The noise got louder and slogans rowdy. Prota felt giddy. While the procession went farther and the noise died down , prota was half asleep only to be woken up by his mother shouting at him, 'Protaaaa you dont have college today?...Getup and get ready' 'I am bunking the first lecture mom. Dont worry'
'You seem to be bunking more and more lectues Protabeta.. This is not good...'. 'Chill mom. I m going to clear all subs' Even Prota couldn't decode what gave him the confidence to say that.
Bored of sleeping, he switched on the TV and sprawled on the sofa. To his disgust the election fever had not spared even his TV. 'The hell with it'Prota thought but kept his views to himself.
An election debate was on air and spilling with action. There was an actor turned politician to start with. The guy was playing neta at his best(Zamana badal gaya yaar...Industry me toh koi kaam deta nahi. Abhineta nahi toh neta sahi...)Then there was a woman banker turned politician(Prota would bet all his good money- This woman has never stepped out of posh car and seen the real world). Everyone knew that she is not going to win, but made it a point to brand her something like 'Sole citizen rising against the system'. Even she seemed to know that very well. Then there were some genuine politicians- An Immaculate looking BJP man sporting a safrron tika. A deserted looking communist and a man from Congress who had a look of a poker player.
And there was utter chaos. They were all hurling abuses at each other, accusing each other of numerous scandles and corruption. To prota's surprise, none of them talked of development. (Mrs.Ex Banker tried to utter the word but her sweet voice was duly quieted). Even the anchor was looking helpless. So these are the people running the country... Vow. 'Kya nautanki hai yaar...'.When Prota couldn't bear it anymore, he changed the channel and surfed until he got bored of that as well.
Prota's phone beeped. It was an sms.'Abe Prote election ke vajeh se exam preponed. apne toh lag gaye' Prota jumped out of the sofa as if he had a 440VAC shock.'How could it be...Maine toh kuchh bhi padhai nahi kiya hai.Elections ki toh...'
Prota was now on his foot and walking towards bathroom.'How on earth i am going to clear all subs now?' It took him half an hour to get ready and set out for college.
Prota was now running out of time. 'I better take an auto' thinking this, he stood in a queue for auto. No visible sign of an auto. Someone said there was an auto strike.'They are making hay while the sun shines'Prota reasoned. Its only during the election time that the polititions show up in their constituencies, that also donning a rare generous mood. So Prota decided to walk the distance. His phone rang again-'Craaaawling in my skiiiin, these wounds....'. It was his Girlfriend calling. 'Oh shit!How can I forget this!'. It was Wednesday. Prota was supposed to accompany his GF to her friend's treat and was warned to look sophisticated and more like a human being(exactly the words his GF used). Prota knew she must be waiting at platform no.4 and if he knew her well enough, will be fuming hot courtsy her short fuse. Prota automatically started running, which was a tedious thing to do with his heavy bag in one hand and mobile and ipod in the other. Soon he reached the main road. 'Just a few minuits now' he consoled himself, out of breath. On both sides of the road he could now see large hoardings of netas begging for votes. One of them he knew was a bespectacled young man, who was giving an intimidating look from behind his thick spectacles- 'Vote for me or i will knock you down.' Prota tried to decipher....
'blody hypocrite....Arghhhh...'Apparantly, prota had missed a foot deep pothole in the middle of the road which was left as it is because of Election Code of Conduct preventing any new work to be taken up. 'What the hell...'he cursed, still lying down. His mobile and ipod now lay on the road, a few feet away. It took prota a minuite to regain his stature. Thats when he saw his mobile ringing again. He lifted his bag which lay by his side and limpishly walked towards his phone. Grabbing it he pressed loudspeaker. It was his GF talking in a cold tone'Ever heard of mobile ditch?' 'What are you talking about?' 'Here it is. You are ditched, you loser.' and the line went dead...
Prota now stood in the middle of the road... bruised and in agony, sun hot overhead...
That very moment, he made a decision....'I want revenge.'
He decided that he will vote(P.S.: He also decided that he will run a better background check before falling in love with a girl). Maybe all candidates are useless pieces of crap but he would choose the one who was least useless...Yes he will.
Aren't we done with taking potshots at the politicians and the system? How long we are going to just fantasize a system devoid of corruption and bureaucracy?
Politics has ruined all our lives. Now its our time to take revenge.
Let's vote!!!
Regards
Jayant Apte
Mr. Protagonist lives in a suburb of city of Mumbai(Right! the one that was banged by terror attacks that were covered 24*7 on cnn. You missed it? What a show it was!You can tune into a pakistani news channel. They run these things live!). Oh! Sorry for aberration. Lets shorten the name Mr.Prota. He is around 19-20 years old. The day i am talking about changed Prota's life.
Prota got up late in the morning(what do you expect? he spent the whole midnight mugging up the books). The doorbell rang and prota attended it. It was the postman. Prota was overwhelmed to see his name on the letter(akhir kisiko toh meri zarurat hai... shayad kisi companine call letter bheja ho... campus interview achha gaya tha...2 lakh to 2 lakh kuchh saal nikal lenge). He glanced at the postman full of gratitude, his sleep deprived, darkcircled eyes .glowing.(postman aapne aapse: arre ye aise kyu dekh raha hai. system kharab hai kya...kaise kaise log mil jaate hai...) . Then he glanced at the letter. To his horror, it was not from ne company. Written on it in bold letters was-
Election Commission of India
It read-
Your name is included in the voters list. Your voter ID is ^%*%
Please verify the details that will appear on the ID card- ^*@#^#*
Prota frowned at the spelling mistakes in his own name.(Who runs this commission? panchavi pass?) . Whatever.(Kaun apani phokat ki chhutti chhodke vote karega... passportke liye lagta hai shayad ye ID...) . He casually threw it on the sofa.
Prota's mobile started ringing-'Craawwling in my skiiiinn... these wounds thew wiill not heeeal...fear is ho... '
(Prota's sis)'Kya ringtone hai... subah subah bheja fry... mere bhai utha naa jaldi... Prota had almost forgotten of her presence.
Prota pressed talk. 'Namaskar. Hum Blah blah Party Se Bol Rahe Hai. Hamara Lakshya hai 2020 tak vikasit bharat. Kripaya blah bla ko hi vote de. Dhanyavad'. Line went dead.'Kya #$%^ develop karenge saale rasteke gaddhe buzane nahi aate...Is candidate par to 100 cases filed hai corruption ke liye... development my foot'. 'Watch your words prota' Prota's sis was back to play her 'elder' role.
Prota barely heard her. He had stuffed his ears with earphones listening to his favorite song. 'You can run... you can hide ... but you cant escape my love...'
Just a few seconds passed and Prota's i pod was humbled by the loud noise comming from outside. Prota reluctantly walked to the window.'Tai Mai Akka... Vichaaar kara Pakka... Cyclevar mara shikka..." 'Uhh... This guy is saturating the transistors in the amplifier. Hey sis... local goons are back in action.They are fielding a veteran gangster. haha.'
'I know. But i dont think he stands any chance against the biggies' replied the sis. The noise got louder and slogans rowdy. Prota felt giddy. While the procession went farther and the noise died down , prota was half asleep only to be woken up by his mother shouting at him, 'Protaaaa you dont have college today?...Getup and get ready' 'I am bunking the first lecture mom. Dont worry'
'You seem to be bunking more and more lectues Protabeta.. This is not good...'. 'Chill mom. I m going to clear all subs' Even Prota couldn't decode what gave him the confidence to say that.
Bored of sleeping, he switched on the TV and sprawled on the sofa. To his disgust the election fever had not spared even his TV. 'The hell with it'Prota thought but kept his views to himself.
An election debate was on air and spilling with action. There was an actor turned politician to start with. The guy was playing neta at his best(Zamana badal gaya yaar...Industry me toh koi kaam deta nahi. Abhineta nahi toh neta sahi...)Then there was a woman banker turned politician(Prota would bet all his good money- This woman has never stepped out of posh car and seen the real world). Everyone knew that she is not going to win, but made it a point to brand her something like 'Sole citizen rising against the system'. Even she seemed to know that very well. Then there were some genuine politicians- An Immaculate looking BJP man sporting a safrron tika. A deserted looking communist and a man from Congress who had a look of a poker player.
And there was utter chaos. They were all hurling abuses at each other, accusing each other of numerous scandles and corruption. To prota's surprise, none of them talked of development. (Mrs.Ex Banker tried to utter the word but her sweet voice was duly quieted). Even the anchor was looking helpless. So these are the people running the country... Vow. 'Kya nautanki hai yaar...'.When Prota couldn't bear it anymore, he changed the channel and surfed until he got bored of that as well.
Prota's phone beeped. It was an sms.'Abe Prote election ke vajeh se exam preponed. apne toh lag gaye' Prota jumped out of the sofa as if he had a 440VAC shock.'How could it be...Maine toh kuchh bhi padhai nahi kiya hai.Elections ki toh...'
Prota was now on his foot and walking towards bathroom.'How on earth i am going to clear all subs now?' It took him half an hour to get ready and set out for college.
Prota was now running out of time. 'I better take an auto' thinking this, he stood in a queue for auto. No visible sign of an auto. Someone said there was an auto strike.'They are making hay while the sun shines'Prota reasoned. Its only during the election time that the polititions show up in their constituencies, that also donning a rare generous mood. So Prota decided to walk the distance. His phone rang again-'Craaaawling in my skiiiin, these wounds....'. It was his Girlfriend calling. 'Oh shit!How can I forget this!'. It was Wednesday. Prota was supposed to accompany his GF to her friend's treat and was warned to look sophisticated and more like a human being(exactly the words his GF used). Prota knew she must be waiting at platform no.4 and if he knew her well enough, will be fuming hot courtsy her short fuse. Prota automatically started running, which was a tedious thing to do with his heavy bag in one hand and mobile and ipod in the other. Soon he reached the main road. 'Just a few minuits now' he consoled himself, out of breath. On both sides of the road he could now see large hoardings of netas begging for votes. One of them he knew was a bespectacled young man, who was giving an intimidating look from behind his thick spectacles- 'Vote for me or i will knock you down.' Prota tried to decipher....
'blody hypocrite....Arghhhh...'Apparantly, prota had missed a foot deep pothole in the middle of the road which was left as it is because of Election Code of Conduct preventing any new work to be taken up. 'What the hell...'he cursed, still lying down. His mobile and ipod now lay on the road, a few feet away. It took prota a minuite to regain his stature. Thats when he saw his mobile ringing again. He lifted his bag which lay by his side and limpishly walked towards his phone. Grabbing it he pressed loudspeaker. It was his GF talking in a cold tone'Ever heard of mobile ditch?' 'What are you talking about?' 'Here it is. You are ditched, you loser.' and the line went dead...
Prota now stood in the middle of the road... bruised and in agony, sun hot overhead...
That very moment, he made a decision....'I want revenge.'
He decided that he will vote(P.S.: He also decided that he will run a better background check before falling in love with a girl). Maybe all candidates are useless pieces of crap but he would choose the one who was least useless...Yes he will.
Aren't we done with taking potshots at the politicians and the system? How long we are going to just fantasize a system devoid of corruption and bureaucracy?
Politics has ruined all our lives. Now its our time to take revenge.
Let's vote!!!
Regards
Jayant Apte
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About Me
- Jayant Apte
- This is Jayant Apte. I am a Ph.D. student at Drexel University. I am interested in variety of problems on the intersection of information theory and computer science. Lately I have been working on multi-source network coding problem. Polyhedra and matroids are some of the things I have been recently working on. I write a lot of code. It is mostly C, OpenMPI or CUDA C. I am an avid Chelsea supporter. I don't get much time to watch all their games but I do catch the highlights when I can.