All Of My Love

Love is something most of us yearn for, and we think that we have never obtained in the amounts that we deserve. We have many people to love us and for us to love, yet we hope to find that special someone, someone we could love so much that we could give up our lives for them, someone we could count on to be there, to support us and be there when we need them. Most of us spend our days dreaming about that perfect person who could understand us, take us for who we are. And we accumulate a wealth of experience enroute the path of 'The Search' for so called eternal bliss. This is a chronicle of a 'not so good at his trade' cassanova about his pursuits of the dame who would complete his life.

I being an above average scorer in shyness and meekness departments during my preteens and early teens, found it almost impossible to look at a girl's face, let alone talk to her and bring up matters of the heart if at all I did feel something towards one of them. Anyway nothing in life remains quite the same for very long, and this came true for me too. Tenth standard was the time when the metamorphosis began to take place, initiated by a Ponmudi family car trip, on the return trip of which I practiced 'eyeballing' the chicks on the road. The exhilarating feeling that this small feat evinced in me urged me onto the pursuit of higher goals and higher motives. But unluckily I was stuck at Arya Central School which offered very few avenues to use my new found courage and practice the newly developed tactical abilities to deal with members of the opposite sex. Nevertheless, that period did give me my first real crush(es), in the form of N M and later S (after reading her slam entry, spiced with flirty comments). But 10th was over before anything worthwhile could start and suddenly I found myself in 11th standard at Arya. This was a time for tutions, tutions and more tutions, and a sudden increase in the number of prospective females that fit my different yet specific criteria for acceptance into my heart (Arya had almost 2:1 ratio of girls to boys).

So love really hit me in the belly, together(almost to the date), from four sides, literally. In case you are wondering, I AM talking about four gals hitting the crush bullseye of my sick for love heart at the same time. First of them was N C, whose eyes I found myself looking into deeply, a couple of days after school started. She was perfect to my eyes at that time ( and not to others) with clear, clean-cut features and a great figure. That avenue crashed a short while later, due to a 'still a mystery' misunderstanding. But it was fun throughout the two years with both of us turning away from each other everytime we met on the corridors. Next on the list is the longest running episode of my life yet: Ag. Meeting her evoked what could have been interpreted as liquid poetry in my heart. Unluckily for me she never knew of my existance even though everyone else in my school and even other schools knew of my big crush and my pencil sketches of the timid beauty. Then came Aish and Di each serving as a motivator for me to attend my tution classes (chemistry and physics respectively). Anyway the next valentines day came and I bought a card ('will you be my valentine' one), and got about to thinking who I would give it to. The dilemma was put to an end with Di winning out logically because physics tution came about closer in the week, and I was in no mood to wait two days more than that was necessary. The card was duly accepted by a blushing Di and returned back yet more promptly the next day with a lot of mumbled apologies. ( *at this point I did think of rerouting the card to Ash but Di had scribbled off her name from the card with an ink pen shabbily and the card was beyond repair!). The next week my dear friend VS informed Ash of her three admirers in the class. She picked the first one easily; me. After some thought the next one too was clear ( third one was self proclaimed by VS as himself) . Anyway Ash too disawowed me stating her reasons to me while weeping on Sushi's shoulders( and to this day I have never regained my trust of girls completely). That left Ag. Twelfth standard passed along nicely with some regained ground with Di and Ash which I did not want too much anymore.

It was the almost the end of school and I wanted to try my last hand with Ag and bought yet another Valentines card (other one was damaged remember). Quite surprisingly she was prompter than any of the others in refusing me, and that is about the only time I have ever seen the poor girl so confident ( glad that I brought out the best in her ). And I thought gloomily that that chapter was to be the shortest of my wannabe love life.

But fate would not let us alone ( let her alone that is) that easily. It is here that most of you are wrong. It is not in college that my wannabe love story with Ag continued, but surprisingly at Tandem where we crashed for two months for entrance coaching. Ag was blushing everyday with me following her around with my eyes and physically when possible. Even there she was made to suffer the consequences of my serialised efforts at making her mine. One of my cousin's friends tried to help me (without my knowledge) and ended up embarrassing her (one of many such embarassments to come). A good friend of mine did her part by teasing the girl out of her wits everyday, which according to my opinion was the period when I had the most chance at a postive response from her. But two months is a short time and it flew by fast.

This is where the story veers back into chartered territory of College Of Engineering Trivandrum, Department Of Civil Engineering (ISO 9001) where we again found ourselves confronted with each other. She missed her step the first time she saw me during the alotment process, which was amusing to watch, but totally understandable after about 15-20 requests with our names splashed across Rosebowl during that period, which her aunt promptly called up and informed her, because she did not have cable television back then. I am sure that even in college the incessant teasing and embarrassing situations (like when introduced to someone as anugeetha the other person suddenly springs "ohh Aswin's ag" on her) continued to haunt her for the first 3 years of college. I put an end to final story of my pre 20s loves in s5 when I told her that I was finally over her and letting her alone (Finally after 5 years). In s7 the tour helped dispell all my illusions and I am finally over the cute little girl. Now looking forward enthusiastically to my bright future in 20s love. Girls here I come.

FoX HunT

My nerves are strung out, to their ends and I feel the tension up my fingers. I am not sure whether I'll be able to move them when needed. I can feel the sweat on my palms, which I quickly wipe on my trousers. I notice that my eyebrows are twitching uncontrollably. Must be the tension. I try my best to shake away my fears and concentrate on the job at hand. Crouching I thread slowly over the gravel, trying to make as little noise as possible, inspecting each dark corner, expecting an ambush. I find a spot between the rubble walls, hiding myself as much as possible. And then I set out for the wait. It is agonizing, with an attack possible from any direction. Where is he?? I have to get him this time. Atleast. I see movement, in the form of white camoflage specks in brown military plans. Fox came into vision, between those bogies, between the coned wheels. I feel the pressure of the trigger against my finger, and I carefully measuringly ease out two rounds into the enemy's body. Fox is quick to recover, with his AK47, he ducks out of the way of the remaining rounds of my M4A1 Carbine, a couple of them striking the armour. Then he moves quickly and pumps measured breaks of two bullets at me. I feel the slugs hitting me, my aim hard to maintain. Who would win out? Suddenly I feel the blood in my throat. He got me. The damn bastard got me. I'm gonna kill him, next time. And darkness falls upon me.

So this is what has been going on in my night life for the last one week or more. Fever, it is. Counter-Strike has struck me again, this time severe, more powerful, and ever so more exciting. Shifting to ADL has paid off. CSing has become part of my daily routine. 10:30 -12:30 is when we sit in front of our PC's and try to get the better off our opponents, out manouvere them, out witted them, or bloody well send their asses all to hell. The game takes it toll. Everyone is stricken with it. Fox more than others. We take each other on, terrorist versus anti-terrorists on the A-long of de_dust2 or among the bogies of the de_train and even on the well known corridors of de_dust. I see nothing, except for the nooks and crannies where they might be and when they come into view I see the crosshair and try my best to get it to their heads when i press the mouse button. Getting a head shot is something, with the opponent flying backwards, bloodspilling, all with a rag-doll effect. You feel the power of the M4, the AK and the Mp5. You feel the texture of the AK. The guns are never the same. You can feel the difference. You can feel the sexy surfaces of the M4. You can feel it exploding in your hands. You can feel it come back into control after a 3-burst. I hold the mouse with different pressure for each gun.


The practise we are getting now must count to something. Next time we go to a tournament we need tactics. We need practise as a team. Basically we need a clan.

I cant wait to try out my talents in another group. Maybe when i get to Kollam I'll try my luck at the arcades there. Can't wait..!!!

Poochaye Pidichu

So we went on a psuedo picnic. That was what CAT 2005 was. Calicut turned out to be a charming place, surprising mag. The people were extremely helpful and I personally found the place to be quite peaceful and did not have the depressing factor many towns have, like Kollam for instance. Me and Madhavan roamed the city streets, checking out the test centres and all the young gals who were all around. By the end of that day both of us knew most of the routes around the city by heart. Money was a problem. Atleast spending too much of it was. My idiotic reliance temporary stand-in phone was the major culprit. It ate up about 500 bucks and gave me as little talk time as the laws permit.

The next day was D-day. The CATs. Me and Divyasree ( cool gal ) went to our centre and saw 100s of other hopeful faces lining the streets. Some were burying their self respect and studying right on the road sides, sitting on the pavements. CETians for a change were a happy lot. No one seemed tense. Even SM was jovial. My hopes to meet a beautiful chick sitting next to me for the test were shattered with only 3 gals in the room. The tests went fine ( to most of the serious candidates ), with me just trying my hand at math and failing miserably, surpirising more in DI. Verbal was tough they said. But I am no judge because I never tried an AIMCAT. After the test lunch was with Shruti's gang ( hmmm....!!). I had a feeling she was holding back a big "yipeeeeeeeee", the whole time. Maybe I was wrong( was I shrutz? ). That wrapped up a CAT season.

The train trip back was no where as evenful as the one up there. Guys all around were gawking at Vidya who was looking too sexy in her tight low waists and tight black Ts ( guys stop imagining ). So overall it was a great trip. Had fun . Met atleast two new gals ( ;) ).
Overall rating : 8

P.s: i gotta find out the name of one of the girls i met !!!!!

Arms Swing Wide

Moto GP is something that me and my friends follow on a moderate scale. And Valentino Rossi is a name that has almost become synonymous with the sport. Some might even say he has grown more than the sport itself, which according to me is not true. Anyway, watching a race pumps up adrenaline and a urge to just burn rubber overtakes us all. Lately it has been affecting me pretty much completely and my riding has turned lethal. After a day of hard riding ( tvm to kollam in about 45 mins ) and back half the way in even shorter time, I caught up with my cousin and saw her off at the Trivandrum airport.

At night even though it was raining we decided to go for our customary weekly shanghumugham trip. So JJ was riding his old CBZ in front of me with Suni behind him. It ofcourse had no headlights. So anyway to cut a long story short he crashed into a cyclist at, say 80 kmph ( on a max 30 kmph road ). Luckily no one was seriously hurt. We took them to the hospital to get the cuts and bruises dressed. Grim we should have been, but grim we were not. I've been riding slow today.

Too many beds without a coffee machine

Life is never simple. But you always end up wishing it were. How you would like to be rid of all the choices. Some people are guided by rules and boundaries,which may be good for them, or bad depending on your perspective. Others who are not may sometimes find things easy, with many choices and at times harder because of the same abundance of choices.

We for one stand at a time when these choices could make a big difference in our lives. The path we take, would decide where we end up after many years when we have lost track of where we had started from and why. We may end up satisfied, Unhappy or just plain bored. But we would never know the other side. Luckily for me the choices are limited, that is if i choose to be smart. But where will this life we have decided upon ( or almost decided upon ) take us? Did'nt we all crave for adventure, romance, happiness.. Are we getting what we had hoped for, yearned for?

But even if our lives were to bring everything that we has ever wanted I seriously doubt it whether most of us would appreciate it as much as it would deserve. Talking of adventure, romance , happiness, sorrow for that matter.. Did'nt we all dream of them when we enbarked onto our college lives? Did we find them. Maybe we never recognised the moments that counted. Maybe we never knew, or felt that our lives were passing through our fingers waiting to be felt and never felt again in the same way. How do we capture these moments for ever, without losing the flavour of the moment, savouring each second, knowing that the moments are lost in time, to be remembered fondly?

Think again. This is our last chance. Last chance at a life as you have ever imagined, better than you have imagined, yet different than you have imagined. Take control, steer clear, stear ahead......Straight into the future.

Introspection

So rahi and me were on a chorri spree, with us trying to match our wits against each other. So finally she decides to be honest and begins to tell me how i happen to be the perfect('est) example of a being with a pure sense of superiority complex. But the spree came to an end pretty soon with rahi throwing in the towel(or something like that), leaving me alone to think about that particular remark, during the never ending steel structures lecture. Well to start off she hit the mark precisely, and concurrent with my views for a change. I do believe I ( and almost all bloggers i know ) have a healthy serving of superiority complex. To be fair, most of the bloggers in my circle do deserve to have their share of it and in some cases a lot more. I think that it is very healthy, under the circumstances to search one's soul and find a bit of self assurance and drive to help one ( in our condition ) out on the road to a bright and Bill Gate'ish future. I for one am not a staunch supporter of the equality of all men ( and women ) principle. If one were to believe that or a much negative, all men are superior, he would find himself in the serious lack of confidence and drive. This certainly does not imply an instinct to disregard or underestimate ones peers or in general other men. It would infact be proper to credit this factor as being a major player in the rise of human kind to a certain extent. Some men ( not implying myself ) feel the need to establish, build, create something better, something new, novel. They feel mankind left to itself cannot establish much and hence take things into their own hands. Maybe they reason that something as important as people's lives should not be left to the people themselves. Some people see things clearly. Some people see some things some things clearly. Would they be a good judge on what they see clearly.

It seems my try at an intellectual discussion has met a miserable end. Why do I try to do it ? Do I believe that most people are stupid and I am not ? Well don't you too???

an awakening...

And then there was light. Light. I finally see the light. Freedom. Freedom from it all. Finally. Finally I am on an Asianet Dataline (ADL) 256 kbps broadband connection. So the days of messy dial up connections, waiting for two hours for a download/upload, the complete feeling of helplessness, may it be while listening to friends talk about gaming, or when they talk about how they have never seen a transfer bar, has come to a crashing end.

The wait for the double petti(the dialup connection icon on the startup bar) to light up,the frustration has come to an end. Now I have stepped into the next generation. New Life.

>left 2 ImaGine

Tours are good in many ways. They provide a vision, a vision at the cross section of society we probably never again would be able to see. They remain in our memory for ever as the happiest days of our lives (if you are lucky). Friendships are made, strengthened, redefined and broken. If you are in the right frame of mind you could probably count on having a life changing experience on you hands.

As far as I am concerned tours have always changed my life, in one way or other, but changed quite drastically nonetheless. All the days people get to think about the millions and million of things, the lonely hours with no one to talk to, with no one to lean against is what could destroy a perfectly good tour for you. Well our little story is the manifestation of the above mentioned variables all coming together perfectly for about 50 my unluckily mentally quite stunted compatriots in civil. So the lack of intelligence coupled with lack of intellectual stimulation(which ofcourse has the prerequisite of an intellect) and abudance of negative energy(read pure evil) resulted in many technicolored dreams among the poor souls under discussion(fondest thoughts graze my mind at this point of time) . Well what resulted was an example of how a television soap( a bad one, say like manasi for godsake ) reenacted at a top technical institution could still provide as many oppurtunities for making fun of bad actors, bad direction and basically just for the heck of making fun, as much as the real thing( me reminded of sthree janmam, which is apt cos many of the actors here are sthrees too, and stupid too!!) . So now i've learned that a certain EX-civil topper(lemme see who all qualify for that...) resents the fact of having the EX affixed to her and would do anything to alievate the pain. An idea strikes her head; an accusal, but what? It has to be something serious; ahh got it. So what better than take the accusal straight to a really stupid faculty member. The task is made easy by the fact that the civil department has this as a basic character trait required for admission as a lecturer. So it does not take the unintelligent, dumb, ugly and unwitty character much time to find a suitable lecturer( refered to as P, say) . It helps that that P is here with M( that is a say too, and M qualifies well to be a civil lect.). M is ready to listen to everything P says as M apparently used to have an immense crush on P and is still now ready to kiss P's shoestrings. So the EX pours her dark heart onto the coffee table of P&M (well it was quite an observation on dasan's part to notice M took all his meals and drinks with P, how he managed to, elludes explanation), and the venom now passes from one stupid carrier to another rather slow witted carrier. The EX had help from her darker yet twin sister (whose name shall not be spoken out aloud, so CODENAME:Voldemort or V) who often makes the mistake of thinking that she actually has brain cells just because she can put some girls into a particular number of rooms. So the vortex spins on and in the mist we see all the poor hellbound civil non entities dicussing the hallucinations of many a period ridden girl.

So there are other interesting characters too. One of them, who has been pretending to be such a close friend of mine during the tour, so nice all the time, asking me to do everything for her, was infact acting out her dream of being a detective photographer. The misguided soul ( character description: the usual chorri image>fat,ugly complete with that stupid look, big reading glasses ) , who obviously is exptremely depressed about not having a guy in sometime, went running around trying to take a snap of any gal and guy sitting together. When a guy and two gals sit together, she sees a threesome through her understandably troubled eyes(someone could'nt use their toys for some days). Well, if somebody were to ask me, the ratios were wrong everywhere. Why did a big guy(lets call him hachoom) and girl who sat together all the time not figure in the P list. Well it was a honeymoon trip for them too(who knows, we did not see anything,we closed our eyes in the fear that we might see something). Then there was another one, unbelievably even stupider than the others from my personal experience, who was sleeping on anyone's shoulder. But luckily for them they are Voldemort's and EX's close buddies and hence the ratios are cut off and the stories are put back into the fridge(but we've got the keys too!!!).

So after a few days suddenly somebody spills the beans..everything is out. The scene ofcourse is pretty predictable. Counter round table and acacia conferences happen daily to counter the allegations that have arisen. The permutations handling the complexities of contact between the co-compatriots have taken a serious mathematical simplification. No one talks. But still everyone talks. So now, the characters, some who feel a lot of guilt about propogating life shattering gossips are afraid of getting beaten up by the player on the hot seat( Playa). Playa is taking it cool . He makes enquiries, jots down who are gonna get it when the time comes, makes his own hit list. The author is too busy on this front. As is evident

NEVER SAY DIE ...DIE BITCHES DIEEEEEE....

disclaimer

This is to notify that the blogs that are to be published as of now are solely for the exclusive reading pleasure of the author's close friends from college, which only include magneta, meenakshy, sweetliar, ethnicsoul, rahi30384, zoyanits & sreejith, and who ever from the realm of the wide wide net who does not study along with the author in the Department of Civil Engineering, College Of Engineering Trivandrum. So anyone who does not meet with the following criteria please do not enter the premises of the following internet web log.

>Leading the way to the new generation XploCivZ

So its exam season again. But one has to say an engineering course over do's it a little bit. As one looks back to the good old days, in the '02 year,we as freshers sat for our series exams, so afraid, so sure that this was the motive of our lives, the very core of our existance and now we now understand how far away from the truth we really were, atleast most us do.

My first exam may not be the perfect example, with chala passing me a whole 40 marks sheet helping me secure 70 in the first series math exam. The spectacle was fortuanately or unfortunately not repeated for the second series with me confined to a meagre 8 out of 100, which thankfully the poor math proffesor did not deem important enought to deny me the luxury of above 35 out of 50 for internals. But luck held strong during the S1S2 exams, with an unbelievable number of 'on the brink' scores and a KU concocted conditional clause, which ceremoniously crawls into most of my miraculous university esacapades. The thread of singe digit math marks adorned all my internal exam marklists, 7 and 3 for the third semester ,8 something in the fourth. But being cheated out of a conditional pass in FM in the third because of math finally persuaded me to go for math tutions and that dragged me into the mid fifties for math in the universities.

Then comes the day the internals are out, everyone going mad, not as much out of the concern for their marks but more out of the frustration of finding out again and again that the department has yet again managed not to put up the marks at all with the exam right upon our heads. My marks are never a surprise, with it staying within the safe limit of 2-4 undersessionals, which in by no way unfair. (*But guys let me say ,you can never stress the importance of sessionals.*)

Writing exams were always fun for me. But for all the wrong reasons. It could be said that I like it for more of the not writing part that the writing part. Pitt had high expectations for me , and so did Madhavan with me beating them out of the exam hall in every one of the 9 theory exams, but again fortunately or unfortunately i let them all down with me filing not even one suppli. So that was a big surprise for everyone.

So now that I am in S7, with the first series underway I find myself in a pivotal position( and nostalgic too) from where to influence a lot of raw and extremely impressionable young minds, in the form of the third semester juniors. They need guidance, spiritual guidance , well....I figure they need a role model!! So tomorrow ,I'm shedding all the pretense of decent ,well dressed responsible young adult male and reverting back to my original self ,though not to the original full glory , back to those torn and loud t's and unbelievable jeans and going to retire from the exam battleground within 15 minutes of the battle horns being blown.

ME the LONE WARRIOR >>> IIII STAND ALLOOOONNEEEE!!!!!

How to make an H-Bomb at home

Making and owning an H-bomb is the kind of challenge real Indians seek. Who wants to be a passive victim of nuclear war when, with a little effort, you can be an active participant? Bomb shelters are for losers. Who wants to huddle together underground eating canned Spam? Winners want to push the button themselves. Making your own H-bomb is a big step in nuclear assertiveness training -- it's called Taking Charge. We're sure you'll enjoy the risks and the heady thrill of playing nuclear chicken.

Not I support nuclear terrorism. I do not. I would prefer to die slowly from familiar poisons like low-level radiation, microwaves, DDT, DBCP, aflatoxins, PBBs, PBCs, or food dyes, rather than unexpectedly, say as hostage to a Latvian nationalist brandishing a homemade bomb. In my view the real terrorists are the governments, American, Soviet, French, Chinese, and British, that are hoarding H-bombs for their own use, and worse still, those governments (U.S., French and German) that are eagerly peddling advanced nuclear technology to countries like South Africa, Brazil, and Argentina so that they can make their own bombs. When these bombs are used, and they will be, it will be the world's big-time nuclear peddlers, along with corporate suppliers like General Electric, Westinghouse, and Gulf Oil, that we can thank for it. Gagging The Progressive will do no more for national security than backyard bomb shelters because like it or not the news is out.



Part 1: Making Your Bomb


The heart of the successful H-bomb is the successful A-bomb. Once you've got your A-bombs made the rest is frosting on the cake. All you have to do is set them up so that when they detonate they'll start off a hydrogen-fusion reaction.

Step 1: Getting the Ingredients

Uranium is the basic ingredient of the A-bomb. When a uranium atom's nucleus splits apart, it releases a tremendous amount of energy (for its size), and it emits neutrons which go on to split other nearby uranium nuclei, releasing more energy, in what is called a "chain reaction." (When atoms split, matter is converted into energy according to Einstein's equation E=MC2. What better way to mark his birthday than with your own atomic fireworks?)

There are two kinds (isotopes) of uranium: the rare U-235, used in bombs, and the more common, heavier, but useless U-238. Natural uranium contains less than 1 percent U-235 and in order to be usable in bombs it has to be "enriched" to 90 percent U-235 and only 10 percent U-238. Plutonium-239 can also be used in bombs as a substitute for U-235. Ten pounds of U-235 (or slightly less plutonium) is all that is necessary for a bomb. Less than ten pounds won't give you a critical mass. So purifying or enriching naturally occurring uranium is likely to be your first big hurdle. It is infinitely easy to steal ready-to-use enriched uranium or plutonium than to enrich some yourself. And stealing uranium is not as hard as it sounds.

There are at least three sources of enriched uranium or plutonium...

Enriched uranium is manufactured at a gaseous diffusion plant in Portsmouth, Ohio. From there it is shipped in 10 liter bottles by airplane and trucks to conversion plants that turn it into uranium oxide or uranium metal. Each 10 liter bottle contains 7 kilograms of U-235, and there are 20 bottles to a typical shipment. Conversion facilities exist at Hematite, Missouri; Apollo, Pennsylvania; and Erwin, Tennessee.

The Kerr-McGee plant at Crescent Oklahoma -- where Karen Silkwood worked -- was a conversion plant that "lost" 40 lbs of plutonium. Enriched uranium can be stolen from these plants or from fuel-fabricating plants like those in New Haven, San Diego; or Lynchburg, Virginia. (A former Kerr-McGee supervisor, James V. Smith, when asked at the Silkwood trial if there were any security precautions at the plant to prevent theft, testified that "There were none of any kind, no guards, no fences, no nothing.")

Plutonium can be obtained from places like United Nuclear in Pawling, New York; Nuclear Fuel Services in Erwin, Tennessee; General Electric in Pleasanton, California; Westinghouse in Cheswick, Pennsylvania; Nuclear Materials and Equipment Corporation (NUMEC) in Leechburg, Pennsylvania; and plants in Hanfford, Washington and Morris, Illinois. According to Rolling Stone magazine the Israelis were involved in the theft of plutonium from NUMEC.

Finally you can steal enriched uranium or plutonium while it's en-route from conversion plants to fuel fabricating plants. It is usually transported (by air or truck) in the form of uranium oxide, a brownish powder resembling instant coffee, or as a metal, coming in small chunks called "broken buttons." Both forms are shipped in small cans stacked in 5-inch cylinders braced with welded struts in the center of ordinary 55 gallon steel drums. The drums weigh about 100 pounds and are clearly marked "Fissible Material" or "Danger, Plutonium." A typical shipment might go from the enrichment plant at Portsmouth, Ohio to the conversion plant in Hematite Missouri then to Kansas City by truck where it would be flown to Los Angeles and then trucked down to the General Atomic plant in San Diego. The plans for the General Atomic plant are on file at the Nuclear Regulatory Commission's reading room at 1717 H Street NW Washington. A Xerox machine is provided for the convenience of the public.

If you can't get hold of any enriched uranium you'll have to settle for commercial grade (20 percent U-235). This can be stolen from university reactors of a type called TRIGA Mark II, where security is even more casual than at commercial plants.

If stealing uranium seems too tacky, you can buy it. Unenriched uranium is available at any chemical supply house for $23 a pound. Commercial grade (3 to 20 percent enriched) is available for $40 a pound from Gulf Atomic. You'll have to enrich it further yourself. Quite frankly this can be something of a pain in the ass. You'll need to start with a little more than 50 pounds of commercial-grade uranium. (It's only 20 percent U-235 at best, and you need 10 pounds of U-235 so... ) But with a little kitchen-table chemistry you'll be able to convert the solid uranium oxide you've purchased into a liquid form. Once you've done that, you'll be able to separate the U-235 that you'll need from the U-238.

First pour a few gallons of concentrated hydrofluoric acid into your uranium oxide, converting it to uranium tetrafluoride. (Safety note: Concentrated hydrofluoric acid is so corrosive that it will eat its way through glass, so store it only in plastic. Used 1-gallon plastic milk containers will do.) Now you have to convert your uranium tetrafluoride to uranium hexafluoride, the gaseous form of uranium, which is convenient for separating out the isotope U-235 from U-238.

To get the hexafluoride form, bubble fluorine gas into your container of uranium tetrafluoride. Fluorine is available in pressurized tanks from chemical-supply firms. Be careful how you use it though because fluorine is several times more deadly than chlorine, the classic World War I poison gas. Chemists recommend that you carry out this step under a stove hood (the kind used to remove unpleasant cooking odors).

If you've done your chemistry right you should now have a generous supply of uranium hexafluoride ready for enriching. In the old horse-and-buggy days of A-bomb manufacture the enrichment was carried out by passing the uranium hexafluoride through hundreds of miles of pipes, tubes, and membranes, until the U-235 was eventually separated from the U-238. This gaseous-diffusion process, as it was called is difficult, time-consuming, and expensive. Gaseous-diffusion plants cover hundreds of acres and cost in the neighborhood of $2-billion each. So forget it. There are easier, and cheaper, ways to enrich your uranium.

First transform the gas into a liquid by subjecting it to pressure. You can use a bicycle pump for this. Then make a simple home centrifuge. Fill a standard-size bucket one-quarter full of liquid uranium hexafluoride. Attach a six-foot rope to the bucket handle. Now swing the rope (and attached bucket) around your head as fast as possible. Keep this up for about 45 minutes. Slow down gradually, and very gently put the bucket on the floor. The U-235, which is lighter, will have risen to the top, where it can be skimmed off like cream. Repeat this step until you have the required 10 pounds of uranium. (Safety note: Don't put all your enriched uranium hexafluoride in one bucket. Use at least two or three buckets and keep them in separate corners of the room. This will prevent the premature build-up of a critical mass.)

Now it's time to convert your enriched uranium back to metal form. This is easily enough accomplished by spooning several ladlefuls of calcium (available in tablet form from your drugstore) into each bucket of uranium. The calcium will react with the uranium hexafluoride to produce calcium fluoride, a colorless salt which can be easily be separated from your pure enriched uranium metal. (Safety note: Even though it is a salt, keep it away from your kitchen's spice rack.)

A few precautions:

* While uranium is not dangerously radioactive in the amounts you'll be handling, if you plan to make more than one bomb it might be wise to wear gloves and a lead apron, the kind you can buy in dental supply stores.

* Plutonium is one of the most toxic substances known. If inhaled, a thousandth of a gram can cause massive fibrosis of the lungs, a painful way to go. Even a millionth of a gram in the lungs will cause cancer. If eaten, plutonium is metabolized like calcium. It goes straight to the bones where it gives out alpha particles preventing bone marrow from manufacturing red blood cells. The best way to avoid inhaling plutonium is to hold your breath while handling it. If this is too difficult, wear a mask. To avoid ingesting plutonium orally follow this simple rule: never make an A-bomb on an empty stomach.

* If you find yourself dozing off while you're working, or if you begin to glow in the dark, it might be wise to take a blood count. Prick your finger with a sterile pin, place a drop of blood on a microscope slide, cover it with a cover slip, and examine under a microscope. (Best results are obtained in the early morning.) When you get leukemia, immature cells are released into the bloodstream, and usually the number of white cells increases (though this increase might take almost 2 weeks). Red blood cells look kind of like donuts (without the hole), and are slightly smaller than the white cells, each of which has a nucleus. Immature red cells look similar to white cells (i.e.. slightly larger and have a nucleus). If you have more than about 1 white cell (including immature ones) to 400 red cells then start to worry. But, depending upon your plans for the eventual use of the bomb, a short life expectancy might not be a problem.



Step 2: Assembling the A-Bomb

Now that you've acquired the enriched uranium, all that's left is to assemble your A-bomb. Go find a couple of stainless steel salad bowls. You also want to separate your 10 pounds of U-235 into two hunks. (Keep them apart!) The idea is to push each half your uranium into the inside of a bowl.

Take one hunk of your uranium and beat it into the inside of the first bowl. Uranium is malleable, like gold, so you should have no trouble hammering it into the bowl to get a good fit. Take another five-pound hunk of uranium and fit it into a second stainless steel bowl. These two bowls of U-235 are the "subcritical masses" which, when brought together forcefully, will provide the critical mass that makes your A-bomb go. Keep them a respectful distance apart while working because you don't want them to "go critical" on you... At least not yet.

Now hollow out the body of an old canister-type vacuum cleaner and place your two hemispherical bowls inside, open ends facing each other, no less than seven inches apart, using masking tape to set them up in position. The reason for the steel bowls and the vacuum cleaner, in case you're wondering, is that these help reflect the neutrons back into the uranium for a more efficient explosion. "A loose neutron is a useless neutron" as the A-bomb pioneers used to say.

As far as the A-bomb goes, you're almost done. The final problem is to figure out how to get the two U-235 hemispheres to smash into each other with sufficient force to set off a truly effective fission reaction. Almost any type of explosive can be used to drive them together. Gunpowder, for example, is easily made at home from potassium nitrate, sulfur, and carbon. Or, you can get some blasting caps or TNT. (Buy them or steal them from a construction site.) Best of all is C4 plastic explosive. You can mold it around your bowls, and it's fairly safe to work with. (But, it might be wise to shape it around an extra salad bowl in another room, and THEN fit it to your uranium-packed bowls. This is particularly true in winter, when a stray static electrical charge might induce ignition in the C4. A responsible bomb maker considers it impolite to accidentally destroy more of the neighborhood than absolutely necessary.)

Once the explosives are in place all you need to do is hook up a simple detonation device with a few batteries, a switch, and some wire. Remember though that it is essential that the two charges -- one on each side of the casing -- go off simultaneously.

Now put the whole thing in the casing of an old Hoover vacuum cleaner and you're finished with this part of the process.

The rest is easy.



Step 3: Make More A-Bombs Following the Directions Above

You'll need a total of at least four.



A Word to the Wise About Wastes


After your A-bomb is completed you'll have a pile of moderately fatal radioactive wastes like U-238. These are not dangerous, but you do have to get rid of them. You can flush leftovers down the toilet. (Don't worry about polluting the ocean, there is already so much radioactive waste there, a few more bucketfuls won't make any waves whatsoever.) If you're the fastidious type -- the kind who never leaves gum under their seat at the movies -- you can seal the nasty stuff in coffee cans and bury it in the backyard, just like Uncle Sam does. If the neighbor kids have a habit of trampling the lawn, tell them to play over by the waste. You'll soon find that they're spending most of their time in bed.





Going First Class
If you're like us, you're feeling the economic pinch, and you'll want to make your bomb as inexpensively as possible, consonant of course with reasonable yield. The recipe we've given is for a budget-pleasing H-bomb, no frills, no flourishes; it's just a simple 5-megaton bomb, capable of wiping out the New York metropolitan area, the San Francisco Bay area, or Boston. But don't forget, your H-bomb will only be as good as the A-bombs in it.

If you want to spend a little more money you can punch-up your A-bomb considerably. Instead of centrifuging your uranium by hand, you can buy a commercial centrifuge. (Fisher Scientific sells one for about $1000.) You also might want to be fussier about your design. The Hiroshima bomb, a relatively crude one, only fissioned 1 percent of it's uranium and yielded only 13 kilotons. In order to fission more of the uranium, the force of your explosive "trigger" needs to be evenly diffused around the sphere; the same pressure has to be exerted on every point of the sphere simultaneously. (It was a technique for producing this sort of simultaneous detonation by fashioning the explosives into lenses that the government accused Julius and Ethel Rosenberg of trying to steal).






Part 2: Putting Your H-Bomb Together


The heart of the H-bomb is the fusion process. Several A-bombs are detonated in such a way as to create the extremely high temperature (100 million degrees C) necessary to fuse lithium deuteride (LiD) into helium. When the lithium nucleus slams into the deuterium nucleus, two helium nuclei are created, and if this happens to enough deuterium nuclei rapidly enough, the result is an enormous amount of energy: the energy of the H-bomb. You don't have to worry about stealing lithium deuteride, it can be purchased from any chemical-supply house. It costs $1000 a pound. If your budget won't allow it you can substitute lithium hydride at $40 a pound. You will need at least 100 pounds. It's a corrosive and toxic powder so be careful.

Place the lithium deuteride or hydride in glass jars and surround it with four A-bombs in their casings. Attach them to the same detonator so that they will go off simultaneously. The container for the whole thing is no problem. They can be placed anywhere: Inside an old stereo console, a discarded refrigerator, etc...

When the detonator sets off the four A-bombs all eight hemispheres of fissionable material will slam into each other at the same time creating four critical masses and four detonations. This will raise the temperature of the lithium deuteride to 100 million degrees C fast enough (a few billionths of a second) so that the lithium will not be blown all over the neighborhood before the nuclei have time to fuse. The result, at least 1000 times the punch of the puny A-bomb that leveled Hiroshima (20 million tons of TNT vs. 20 thousand tons.)





Part 3: What to do With Your Bomb
Now that you have a fully assembled H-bomb housed in an attractive console of your choice you may be wondering, "What should I do with it?" Every family will have to answer this question according to its own tastes and preferences, but you may want to explore some possibilities which have been successfully pioneered by the American government.

1. Sell Your Bomb and Make a Pile of Money

In these days of rising inflation, increasing unemployment, and an uncertain economic outlook, few businesses make as much sense as weapons production. If your career forecast is cloudy, bomb sales may be the only sure way to avoid the humiliation of receiving welfare, or unemployment. Regardless of your present income level, a home H-bomb business can be an invaluable income supplement, and certainly a profitable alternative to selling Tupperware or pirated Girl Scout cookies.

Unfortunately for the family bomb business, big government has already cornered a large part of the world market. But this does not mean that there is a shortage of potential customers. The raid on Entebee was the Waterloo of hijacking, and many nationalist groups are now on the alert for new means to get their message across. They'd jump at the chance to get hold of an H-bomb. Emerging nations which can't ante up enough rice or sugar to buy themselves a reactor from G.E. or Westinghouse are also shopping around.

You may wonder about the ethics of selling to nations, or groups, whose goals you may disapprove of. But here again, take a tip from our government: forget ideology -- it's cash that counts. And remember, H-bomb sales have a way of escalating, almost like a chain reaction. Suppose you make a sale to South Yemen which you believe to be a Soviet puppet. Well within a few days some discrete inquiries from North Yemen and possibly the Saudis, the Egyptians and the Ethiopians as well can be expected. Similarly, a sale to the IRA will generate a sale to the Ulster government; and a sale to the Tanzanians will bring the Ugandans running, and so forth.

It doesn't matter WHICH side you're on, only how many sides there are. Don't forget about the possibility of repeat sales to the same customer. As the experience of both the U.S. and the U.S.S.R. has shown, each individual nation has a potentially infinite need for H-bombs. No customer -- no matter how small -- can ever have too many.


2. Use Your Bomb at Home


Many families are attracted to the H-bomb simply as a "deterrent." A discrete sticker on the door or on the living room window saying "This Home Protected by H-bomb" will discourage IRS investigators, census takers, and Jehovah's Witnesses. You'll be surprised how fast the crime rate will go down and property values will go up. And once the news gets out that you are a home H-bomb owner you'll find that you have unexpected leverage in neighborhood disputes over everything from parking places and stereo noise levels to school tax rates. So relax and enjoy the pride and excitement of home H-bomb ownership!




Is It For You?


Let's be honest. The H-bomb isn't for everyone. Frankly there are people who can't handle it. They break out in hives at the very mention of mega-death, fallout, or radiation sickness.

The following quiz will help you find out whether you have what it takes for home H-bomb ownership. If you can answer "yes" to six or more of these questions, then you're emotionally eligible to join the nuclear club. If not, a more conventional weapon may be more your cup of tea, try botulism-toxin, laser rays, or nerve gas.

1. I ignore the demands of others.

2. I subscribe to one or more of the following: Soldier of Fortune, Hustler, Popular Mechanics, Self.

3. Though I have many interesting acquaintances, I am my own best friend.

4. I know what to say after you say "Hello," but I am seldom interested in pursuing the conversation.

5. I have seen the movie "The Deer Hunter" more than once.

6. I know that everyone can be a winner if they want to, and I resent whiners.

7. I own one or more of the following: handgun, video game, trash compactor, snowmobile.

8. I am convinced that leukemia is psychosomatic.

9. I am aware that most vegetarians are sexually impotent.

10. I have read evidence that solar energy is a Communist conspiracy.





Myths About Nuclear War
Ever since the first mushroom cloud over Hiroshima ushered in the atomic age, a small group of nay-sayers and doom-mongers has lobbied, campaigned and demonstrated to convince Americans that H-bomb ownership, along with nuclear power, is dangerous and unhealthy. Using their virtual stranglehold over the media, these people have tried to discredit everything nuclear from energy to war. They have vastly overrated the risks of nuclear bombs and left many Americans feeling demoralized and indecisive; not sure where the truth lies. Well, here are the myths, and here are the facts.


Myth: After a nuclear exchange the earth will no longer be suitable for human habitation.

Fact: This is completely false. According to one scientist (quoted in John McPee's The Curve of Binding Energy) "The largest bomb that has ever been exploded anywhere was 60 megatons, and that is one-thousandth the force of an earthquake, one-thousandth the force of a hurricane. We have lived with earthquakes and hurricanes for a long time." Another scientist adds, "It is often assumed that a full blown nuclear war would be the end of life on earth. That is far from the truth. To end life on earth would take at least a thousand times the total yield of all the nuclear explosives existing in the world, and probably a lot more." Even if humans succumbed, many forms of life would survive a nuclear free-for-all, cockroaches, certain forms of bacteria, and lichens, for instance.


Myth: Radiation is bad for you.

Fact: Everything is bad for you if you have too much of it. If you eat too many bananas you'll get a stomach-ache. If you get too much sun you can get sunburned (or even skin cancer). Same thing with radiation. Too much may make you feel under the weather, but nuclear industry officials insist that there is no evidence that low-level radiation has any really serious adverse effects. And, high-level radiation may bring unexpected benefits. It speeds up evolution by weeding out unwanted genetic types and creating new ones. (Remember the old saying, "Two heads are better than one.") Nearer to home, it's plain that radiation will get rid of pesky crab grass and weeds, and teenagers will find that brief exposure to a nuclear burst vaporizes acne and other skin blemishes. (Many survivors of the Hiroshima bomb found that they were free from skin and its attendant problems forever.)


We hope this clears up any misconceptions you may have had. Enjoy your H-Bomb!

~* through the key hole...me *~

In a daze .... pulsing ... abrasive.. edging through scratching the ends... the cuts ...deepen... blood drips down the skin .... How could i raise my head against the flow.. it is pushing me below the surface ... i choke.... the hatred swells up.. blood pumps up.... i feel it pulsing through my viens.... lifting my eyes.... whatever i see ... why ? ... my arms feeling numb... i raise them .. cover my face... the coldness that grips me from within ... how will i get over it... where is humanity.. it cuts through flesh ..skin... cushioning my fall ... slow..... then i rise... the strength flows back ... feeling it ... rushing up ... i scream with it.... and it takes over..... all the power transformed... form .. it is hurting.. the ache in my head is growing .. my heart.. who knows....

As I walk ... walk through the mist... dew drops forming on my stubble... yet fingers finding the warmth from her fingers... the moonlight shines through the clouds .. through the mist .. lighting up her face.. ah.. so beautiful .. i want to keep looking at her.. she smiles... i tighten my fingers around hers... the wind flutters her clothes about her fragile body .. i want to take her in my arms.. hold her .. never to let go .. a tear forms in my eye.. not from sadness.. but who knows why... it fills my eye ... rolls down.. she turns to me... looking into my eyes...her face shows it all.. so clear ... i could see to her depths.. i could see myself there...her hair flows over her face... her delicate hand brushes it off her face... I knew she was happy... happy to be with me.. cos she knew she made me the happiest man on earth.... I love her forever... she is my girl ... and she is happy for that.. I love my girl ...

D : The Story Of A Director >Amatuer~

7 o' clock . That was a time unheard of. But they woke up early for the D day . JB woke up early that day , so did bleak , shank and AJ . They began to trickle into JB's shack from fifteen minutes past 7 . Bleak reached there by 7:30 . They tried to tape a soundtrack onto an olympus microrecorder . But that having failed they tried with a regular tape and recorder , and that suceeded . Now everything was ready , the guitar , the keyboard , the backup power , the Sony Handycam , all the right wires , the screenplay board . Everything was loaded into Bleak's M800 , and AJ and JB clambered on top of AJ's Hyosung GF170 . The journey had begun , with Bleak at the wheel of the M800 . They first stopped at JJ's house and picked him up in his "cochin hanifa" costume . Well that would have to suffice they summarised and got on way . Bleak being new to the arena of 4 wheeled vehicles , was a bit slow which suited everyone fine since the destination was high range , Ponmudi .

Most of the drive up the hills was uneventful , except for tons of goals self inflicted by Shank , mildly hurting his pride . Then suddenly they ran into a ceiling , a ceiling of fog or clouds . They could'nt see even 5 metres in front of them . But they carried on , and on the first scenic location jumped out of the car and setup for a shot . JB's was the first , with bleak behind the lens . JB poured out his heart in front of the camera and then JJ joined in with something resembling the wail of a mortally injured donkey . AJ rocked with the slash act , staging it , faking it perfectly . They had got their shot and it was a wrap . Next up , making their way slowly and steadily up the hill they proceeded onto top station . There the mist intensified , and the bearing to the hill or the risky path leading to the top was hidden . Suddenly to top it all off came the rain . The cold cut them like daggers , tearing at their skins , the winds threatening to blow them off the mountain . Finally when they reached the top of the mountain , the fog was so thick that much of the shots taken were threatening to go wasted because of the lens fogging up .

With Ponmudi in the bag , the team started on way to Kallar . There they descended down the steps to gushing waters , with force enough to wash away anyone in their path . The team threaded among the slippery rocks in knee deep gushing mountain stream , bone chillingly cold , waters , sometimes needing a lot of persuation from the director to make it across a slightly riskier stretch of water . Finally the shot was done . A few shots of JB's vocals were also taken . Kallar was a wrap too . The team now moved to Aruvikkara , where a few shots were filmed between rock walls . So finally the day was over . And there was almost half an hour of video . Everyone was happy . They all went home happy .

Now poor director needs to turn editor and learn Premier to edit out the video into a 5 minute rock video .

Shoot To Kill

Well its been almost three years in the works now . Actually it started years back , within the person himself , within the budding artist . My friend Jonathan Bruce is the person under question and his quest to make music , and that too a pretty good specimen of it , has been a continually devoloping story in itself . In the beginning it was amatuerish , but still fresh and catchy . Basically snappy tunes , hoards of explicit lyrics and a lot of fun : that would be how I would classify the first tunes , which included the funny 'Karuthamma' , and such other atrocities against common taste ( they were actually quite good !!) . Then started the age of favorites , with each new song being written quicky catching on in the circle and becoming favorites fast . Personally my favorite is a song called 'Wanna get down' , with its own hip-hop and rock versions both equally good . But what caught everyones fancy was another funny song 'Mood' ( the title being in malayalam ..LOL) . So that was going on great with everyone who listened to it going home humming the tune . But then suddenly everything changed . Thats where another great song , 'Swachamaya' made its debut . It was a crowd favorite , allegedly bringing tears to Ajmals's eyes the first time he was subjected to a vocal reproduction of the touching but somewhat simply prosed lyrics . Anyway , the execution was in a class of its own , with no current malayalam song coming anywhere close to it in its setting . Well , one would think that was the end of it , but no , thats when the artist's fancy brought to life another funny song to strike ' Mood ' off the popular charts . That was the witty and extremely catchy ' Da aval po'onnu' . The lyrics would probably send everyone tearing their hair out on listening to it for the first time , but still send them back to it out of sheer curiosity . The offbeat and simple lyrics would send anyone into peals of laughter . And here too the execution is perfect , and its obvious too .

There are other great songs too , thus sending the total count of good songs to about 10 . And each is unique , with a classical song 'Shruthiyay' . Well , now its upto producer Phillippose Kurian to decide which one is going to be made into a full budgeted music video . I strongly suggested 'da aval po'onu' . Well we have started shooting "Thalarathe" video with an amatuerish Sony Handycam and an amatuerish , poor old , me as the camera man . God what all do I want to do in this world :) .~~~

Gods Own Country

Well , since I have been out of the blogging scene for a while now , its high time I redeemed my presence in the cyber world . Many things have happened in the little while I was away . Maybe one event worth mentioning would be my ascension to the higher rungs of the gaming world with the purchase of a Gefore 5200 fx Agp card and an overclockable ASUS p4ge-mx to boot .

Well I can understand a lot of readers' faces going suddenly into grimaces with the usage of computer digits . Jargon it indeed is , a lot of it to me too . So what do I write about this time .

Well yesterday I was at the traffic stop at pattom and beside me was parked an autorickshaw full of some southeast asian tourists . What was amusing both me and the tourists was the auto driver's continous blabber in 'manglish' about tourists and his apparent grasp of current affairs . Well I could not understand what he was trying to convey to the confused yet amused tourists , but I think I heard a few words being exchanged about Daewoo motors and its managing director being fired of something . But anyway the tourists had no idea about what he was talking about , and neither did I . And he went on to elaborate to the them that he knew all this from newspapers and the news . Well the point being , the common people of our state would be the most well read and the most up to date in the current affairs of the world .

Politics , terrorists , business , whatever be the topic kerala commonners seem to know it all . Well that oughta be ironical to someone . With majority of americans reading only the sports page and highest viewership for maybe hbo and espn , in the "Centre of the One World" , the Usa and here the local ammavans memorising the precise words that come out of Kofi Annan's mouth . It is infact not surprising of keralites . How can we expect less from the people who have one of the most versatile and modern languages in the world . We have one of the most varied , colourful and amazing arts . Maybe other cultures could boast of , maybe two arts which are truly amazing . But kerala is different : kadhakali, kalaripayattu , ottamthullal , and a lot of other things i have never even heard about earlier . Well maybe we are a special breed . Who knows who's gonna be here in 5 years among those who might read this . Think about what you are leaving behind . Think about what would remain when you come back to this world . Make your memories now , treasure them ....

oN Campus

When I reached college that day at 10 i could see that a lot of people had turned up , so many cars , so many bikes . But the college was empty , with not even a soul to be seen around . But i knew they were there , battling with math and logic problems , wrestling to get the vocab and comprehension under control . Then finally they slowly began to disperse , and the wait for the short list began . The mood was one of mild tension , but since it was only the first company , i'd have to say the mood was positive all around . And it helped that almost everyone who appeared for the test was shortlisted .

Now began the preparation for the interview . Nithu was tensed and asked for my help , which i ofcourse gave away without much prompting ( ofcourse to any girl ) . It was fun reading the HR forms completed by most of them . Anitha had written that her hobby was to take care of the fish in her fish tank . Well then I began to help rajani write the longest sentence of her life.. which naturally no one could comprehend.

Then at 9 , everyone clambered into the CGPU hall and they dropped the bombshell ... 197 placed...And they began reading out the names of each .. the list had very few surprises , with everyone who would be expected to be place amond the first lot were picked . Mag got , minu got , aish got , the family - punjabi, nami and bugz got .. I was happy ... But i could see a lot of disappointed faces...
Better luck next time guys..

I hope i can atleast appear for one of them...

Why Do We Do ?

Relationships . They are always hard to maintain . My strong belief is that for a relationship to work , atleast one of the parties involved has to make serious effort at holding it together . Thus is the nature of people that they do a lot of things , harmfull to the relationship , hurting , with or without knowing . Sometimes they do things , which they might have recognised as hurting if their heads were clear from everything else . Logic and clarity of minds are things which elude a lot of us , and even when that star does shine upon us , it does with varying intensities and very little dependability . So we end up doing things you know is going to hurt your friends , but that call for check from within is muffled and faint , coming from deep inside , from underneath the heap of emotions clogging the immediate proximity of the conscious mind . So why do we do those things , we might never find out . Some even do not realise they are doing things , which might have even put themselves to shame , if someone was good enough to them to point their mistakes out to them , even at their own cost . But very few of us have got friends of that depth and sincerity . Atleast I am glad I am a one among the lucky . Mag you are the best friend I have got in college . I am so glad i have you to look over me and chaperone my morality (please excuse the usage!!)

Inside Out

Well , how well do each of us think we know each other . We might make the common mistake of thinking that we know quite a lot about ourselves . We think we have ourselves figured out , after hours and hours of contemplation and self exploration , which has finally led us onto the misconclusion that we are basically all geniuses .

Then comes the difficult task of putting all that you know you are onto a two sheet pinned form of a curricum vitae or resume . You sit down in front of your PC or a piece of blank paper and start writing . Sure , name , address , phone number . You have got no problems there they are , perfectly written , in the precise format , aligned well to one side , looking all neat and tidy . So , now that the beginning came out so good , you tend to think that the rest would turn out to be a piece of cake . So Academics . Then it strikes you , how bad a measly 62 odd aggregagte marks looks on paper . Well what can you say , its college and you still could make the cut offs for the campuses . 10th and 12th were fine with marks in the mid 70's .

Well now you stop for a second and think . All that has been written are mandatory , and the interviewer would not even glance at it once . So now you have to write about something that will catch the attention of the interviewers and would turn out to my advantage . Lets blow them away with my variegated arsenal of proffessional software suites . Photosphop . Yeah , i have used it , but its like saying you have used Anakin Skywalker's Light sabre to open a bag of chips . But maybe i could even then impress them if they caught onto it . Operating Systems are fine too , since i have atleast once tried my hand at all windows versions and a couple of linux ones . Skills are a mess . What ever you are gonna write , they are going to kill you for it . So make your own life sentence as light as possible . Finally comes a section to give your interests and achievements , and thats when you realised you have never done anything in your life . And how can you write your main interest is in girls . lol . Well think hard on it ... me still am...

~when you are living lost lives , all this ceases to matter `

Lost Lives~

"So . Talk"
"Well , what are your career choices ? "
"Software field ofcourse , then maybe M tech and ofcourse I could just get married . I'm going to get my dad to marry me off to a gulf dude . Then I can work there . "

Well Rahi , best of luck for your plans to teach , get married and have a lot of great kids . Focus shifts now back to my career , for the first time after coming to college . What..? With everyone running about , buying books , attending talks , solving puzzles 24/7 , buying a tie then finding out they don't know to tie it and then running about trying to find someone who does . Well that reminds me that I have to learn to knot a tie and that too well .... ( Are ties costly?? )

So what is everyone so worried about suddenly amidst the fun and frolic of the leisurely paced college life? What could be so demanding as to break this spell ?

Well its season again for a little game of campus recruiting , and ofcourse , the guys are quite right to be worried . And to tell the truth , I am a little worried too . Well its mostly clearing up ( I think) . I have been asking everyone their opinions on the matter , whether to try stick to the civil field or go along with the flow into the IT field . Maybe I'm meant to go into the IT field . But its still troubling me , whether would this make me happy ? Would I be able to get the life I want ? I have confided in some of you about my vague and superficial dreams . So you may think its not worth taking that big a risk for . Who knows . Where do each of you see yourself 10 years from now . But you have probably already prepared some answer to that ( be a satified human being , be a fore runner in the company you are working for and ofcourse make tons of money) . But what if it were 20 years and you were told to take a minute and really think it out without the cliches ? Think of how you will look back at your life at the half way point in your life . Would you have done the 'something' you had always wanted to do . Were you as happy as you expected you to be when you were 20 (now , and btw figure that out now ) . Well its your life and its just beginning , and many things are yet to be figured out properly . Think hard and clear about it .. And ofcourse more importantly THINK ON YOUR OWN ABOUT IT . Lifes lost... and you lost with it...

sCCratccHinGg mAaaa NeRrvesSss

Today after quite some time , I was feeling down , I mean really down . Well as nostalgic as it may have been , it brought to my attention certain things that are missing from life . Definitely i miss System Of a Down . There is no measure as to how it would have helped me when I was desp today . Instead I had to subject myself to the torture of a playlist created by my brother . How i wish i had the oteps or slipknots or hatebreeds . Slayer , to which i never devoloped a taste since it came recently in time where the kind of music under discussion now havent been required for a long time . But if i could get my hands on a geniune slayer i would definitely make it a part of my retinue .

Now since the heavy stuff is missing from my normally stocked arsenal , i had to dig pretty hard . But digging deep enough i found stuff which would do pretty well . Disturbed , another one of those to which i never devoloped a taste came to the rescue . Now i can understand Jonathans fanatic adhesion to the song Down with the sickness . Faithful as ever metallica never let me down ever , nor did it today . Fuel pumped me up enough , followed by godsmack . The heavy noise pollution could not afford to give way for nirvana even though that too could have sufficed for my vent of anger or what ever . But it wouldnt have compared to the current pot full of emotions in me . But very ape found its way into the playlist . The very very very very powerful and gnawing guitars touched the right knots which the rape me would have definitely missed . There used to be a time when i could blast off in my room , unconcerned about the neighbours , but that aint now . Maybe after the shift . I need more sound anyway . This stuff aint powerfull enough even tough extremely loud . Du hast was a mismatch .... it was a happy song..... so had to cut it off the list and fill it up with without a choice rape me.. maybe i oughta run to jonathan house to listen to something there ....

Me out ... Peace to all ya motherfuckers...

The Eminem Show

So I've been posting long in here , but I have never expressed my tastes , in music , in movies or infact anything other than biking and my obsessive interest in girls . So this is a blog for me ..

So today I was watching a show about Eminem and how he made it big in the Hip Hop scene , which is usually monopolised by the afro-americans . They despise the white folk of america and direct most of the lyrics explicit and all at their white faced , supposed oppressors . So back to eminem . Although he came into my attention in 2000 with his record smashing "real slim shady" , he was pretty famous a year before (but news gets here slow) . So enter a bad ass white guy , rapping around , bad mouthing everything and everyone , making fun of everything and everyone . This was followed by many of his similar antics and the really touching songs among them became jus flukes . Even though many of his earlier songs were , apart from their explicit lyrics , great music , it was rarely acknowledged that eminem could infact make good music . "Cleaning out my closet" was infact very touching , but here , among friends just seen as another eminem track .

The real turning point came with "Stan" and ofcourse my favorite "Lose yourself" . Stan , featuring dido , in one of his best , but that has infact a lot to do with dido and her superb song . But the genius in lose yourself cannot be denied . Not by listener , not by fans , and not by critics . Eminem was here . He was an apprentice (to Dr. Dre) no more . He was the biggest name in pop . R&B stars accepts him , Dre directs him and everyone has to respect him .

Toy soldiers hit it #1 at UK . But its not our style , with neither me nor Jonathan liking it . But "lose yourself " and "8 Mile " has enough steam to push him on for some time more......
So Let Me Get The Fuck Out ...

The Microsoft Curse

Windows . Microsoft windows . This has become one of the biggest names in history . My life is intertwined with the manipulation of the various forms of windows and the hundreds of intricate settings inside it . Windows 98 and XP both have their positives and negatives as far as I am concerned . Windows 98 has become a necessity on my computer since it is plagued by bad sectors and strapped for RAM and video memory . Installing it is easy on the nerves for me , with the installation completed within 15 mins . The drivers and setups are all at easy reach in the D: drive , and that too finishes within 15 mins . So my OS for all diagnostic purposes is up and running . But running on 98 is like riding a Hero Honda CD100 . Somehow it lacks juice , although it can be kept in spic and spank condition , it gets to your nerves in the end . Response is great , with under 10 seconds bootup and 2 second shut downs . Disk Doctor and Surface Scans can be called into action through DOS and everything is fine . But you still feel weak and pre-archaic .

This is where XP comes in . Once you start runnig XP its hard to go back . Each time I abandon a slow XP and go back to 98 , I yearn to return back to the cosy XP base . It feels like a cushion under me . I cant explain it but I feel pampered and a deep fulfillment . But then comes the drawbacks . Since I dont trust my motherboard and that too with enough reason , its mandatory that I run my disk checks . But here is where XP lets me down . Even though it can be done at startups , it is too messy to be done correctly and frequently enough . And XP does tend drag on after a few months or so ( I have'nt had even a single install on any OS last for more than 2 months ) . But being online in XP is soothing . I can open any number of tabs and windows in Netscape or Opera or in Yahoo! or MSN and still expect it to run even after a few hangups . Nothing gets completely stuck on XP .

Linux is something beyond my grasp . So running linux is not an option even though I have redhat 8 and fedora CDs lying around .

So the new hard disk is on and running XP . Lets see how this goes .

Exam Fever

Its exam time . Mag teached me stuff.. poor girl but do i heed .. lol .. nooooo...how can i with still 2 days to go to the exams... I tried explaining to her the working of my studying head.. she understands... but doesnt trust it.. hehe..

Anyway the preps are quite ok ... she taught me well .. thanks to her for that...

Thank you Mag...

Arya Reunion

School can be a strong influence on anyones life . It usually rubs off a lot onto the induvidual lending certain peculiar qualities , each school's different , on the students who spend the major part of the formative period of their young lives inside the walls of the institution , soaking in the principles and philosophies of the school . Almost certainly a mark of the school is stamped on the person for life , making him recognisable as the product of the particular school where ever life might take him .

As for me , I spent the last 9 years of my school life in Arya Central School , Pattom , making it undoubtedly the single most influential institution which has starred in my life , as of yet . Arya evokes different reactions in different ex-students ( or inmates ) . Some who have studied there for just a couple of years , look back on it with mild affection , while others who have spent 14 or so years there despise it so much that they would want nothing more than to be never reminded of those sad years spent at The Arya Central Jail . But what ever their opinion it is a fact that the school has changed them in some way or the other .

Anyway , yesterday was the first reunion of the 2002 passouts of Arya , held at Hotel Parkfield . Even though planned and executed within a short span of about just 2-3 days , the event was quite a success . Everyone was happy that they 'FINALLY' got to meet their school mates FOR THE FIRST TIME! Anyway there was loads of fun to be had . Everyone was falling head over heels for Anuja , turning the pretty kid into an instant celebrity . ChiChi like always managed to be the centre of a attraction , with her eyes still mersmerising every guy present , and making their hearts flutter with her smile and down turned eyes . I , like always was running around with a camera trying to capture the fun and frolic .

After the reunion we , the guys , decided to go to kovalam . So we started out to kovalam in two cars , racing and swearing all the way , Jidesh flooring it in Sajith's zen and Ashish following suit in my 800 . Once there , we shed our clothes and jumped into the welcoming sea , ofcourse in the close proximty of the most promising chick in the water . So an hour of the wind and waves , interspersed with glances towards the WET gals in the vicinity , left us all refreshed and pumped up . Then finally managing to pry ourselves from the water ( and our eyes from the very sexy gals in the water) we raced back to the city to get a hotel & eat our fills and start back home by 8 . But I still had to get my hands on the pics I had snapped from Manu the very same night . So started a frantic flight to three homes finally managing to download the pics onto a computer and writing it .

So we are all looking forward to the next reunion . Lets hope everyone shows up . This time 72 showed up , out of the 200 aryiites who passed out in 2002 . Next time let us hope for 200 .

Mess Of A Life

As each day melts into one another , I realise I have lost track of time . Its the twentieth day , or close to that , since I have been lost . Water is running out , even after the strict rationing I have been subjecting myself to . I knew water was the most precious of the commodities I could scavenge from the wreckage , limiting myself to a half cup each in the morning and evening . Its been difficult to keep a single direction , walking itself hard . The rough terrain making progress slow , but I know i have to keep moving west and there I have to cross the North-National highway . Even though it barely qualifies to be called a highway with its single lane tarmac surface almost eroded off , it would give me a chance of finding some strain of civilisation . But I could be way off in my estimation of my position , being hundreds of miles off from any sign of civilisation . I now curse each time I remember how foolishly i had started out . Mel was gone now , she could never return . Confusingly I feel very little emotion , conflicting the various thoughts that plague me during the unending hours of trekking . Sleep came easily the last few days , a welcome relief from the start . My muscles have toned themselves to the rigourous pace of the march , the aching has started to fade . I could not fully imagine how i looked . I was amusing myself thinking how my ex-wife and daughter would feel if they saw me now . What would little angeline think of her dad , if she saw me now , shirt in tatters , blood soaked khakis , not seen water in 20 days . I quickly drove away those distant thoughts and tried to concentrate on the present . My shoes would'nt hold out much longer , and the thought of losing my trusted boots frightened me . The terrain was rough and any of the sharp stone would shred my skin off my foot in a second . I had to find something to replace my boot . The evening closing in . I had to find a safe place to sleep away from the hyena and jackals . My eyelids aleady felt heavy , and it was risky to walk in the darkness . Collecting what ever twigs and logs I could find I made camp and dropped down to the hard ground and fell to sleep almost the instant i hit the ground . I knew no dreams would disturb this sleep . Deep .

neSt

All my life i've been shifting from one house to the other and to a certain extent one city to the next . So basically i've lived in five cities and about thirteen houses till now . So its understandable when i say i've never had any attachments to the houses i've stayed in . The current house , even though i've stayed in for about 3 years , is one to which i've had the least psychological attachment to . Infact i still havent seen most of the people who are supposed to be my neighbours , living about 5 meters or so away from my house . Atleast here , through common friends i've come to know some of the guys who live in the vicinity . So thats a fresh and welcome change .

Now back to the topic . So its odd that even though i've been in tvm for more that 10 year we havent bought a house here yet . So the oddity is set to end quite soon , surprising everyone from my mom to my brothers . Even though all the transactions are'nt over yet , the wheels have been set in motion and dad has finally signed the agreement and given the advance after a minor mishap which almost spelled the end of the deal before it started . Anyway the danger has passed and its now quite safe , although not completely safe , to start dreaming of a permanent house and maybe a neighbourhood where we atleast know who is living next door to us . But ofcourse the most important detail... there HAS to be chicks around... I wish god were kind to me and grant me that wish!!!

ShAkEn uP...

The news of the drowning of a fellow CETian has left me shaken . More so because of my little trip to the high current waters of aruvikkara the same day and my insane mountain climbing there . But tragedy , it seems , struck somewhere close , but thankfully not that close . News of the ill-fated death has left everyone shaky . Aishu could'nt figure out what she felt , though it seemed like fear to me . My mother was morally shocked . "How difficult it would have been to raise a son so far , to see him lost , after reaching CET , and due to lack of water ???" . How cruelly ironic ? Why should he have drowned because of the lack of water ? That too in a Government run hostel . How would have the mates of the boy taken it . Helplessly watching bubbles come up , while all they can do is stand around helpless . How would it have affected them to see one among their brothers die ? God knows . God help us all . Peace . Time to correct all our mistakes . Do it right people . Life is too short to make silly mistakes .

The Circle Of Life

Why do you wanna go around in circles? We do tend to go around in circles with most of our problems . We say we have a problem . Then we try to solve the problem by lending some logic to the situation , which most probably involves finding a way to clear ones side from all possibilities of self implication , or implication by others for that matter . Then would begin the endless cycle of creating and solving ones own problems . Someone wise must have said ( most probably in a much funnier and interesting manner ) "Once you try stop solving a problem and try to imagine it does not exist the problem may vanish into thin air"(something of that sort) .

Time on ones hand is the biggest enemy one may have during spates of such morosity , you sitting in class and dreaming up , concocting up broths of feelings and emotions ( yuck! ). But times like those offer us the least of choices . You are stuck there with no possibility of escape , with either you there by mistake or with you suffering the insufferable as a means to a favourable end ( like picking up spare attendance ) . Well then there is the chance of you finding a way to brush away the boredom with certain enjoyable class room activities like -
1) running a chat server ( passing paper chits )
2) art design ( drawing nude chicks )
3) cubism ( drawing cubes on the desk )
4) astronomy ( looking profusely at glamour stars of the class )
5) literature ( completing records/assignments )
or even
6) accupuncture ( rubbing your leg over your girls' - highly skilled personel will only be recruited ).

Well how misleading and pointless time can be ?

Beginning Of The End

As I move into the dark , crumbling , damp and downright depressing Civil Engineering PG block class , or 'Kaalapaani' as its called , a cold feeling grips my heart . College life is at another of its many critical turning points , which crowd the short four years we have been given to fulfill all our expectations of college we have been fed all those scwany school years and to gather lifelong bitter-sweet experiences , which we are supposedly gonna look back fondly upon later on in life . Three heart busting and nerve crunching schufflings past , we are still not completely comfortable with our home for the past two and a half odd years . Moving into the smart , dust free , painted (for once) class rooms we are filled with apprehension about the next three semesters . We are finally at the beginning of the end , accepting it or not , no longer a question of much consequence , with just three more semesters to go . Semesters one , two , three .. where did they all go , when did all they fly by . We are left with no memory of them , nothing to punctuate properly the vague mass of randomly flowing time , nothing to remind us of the passage of time , passage of the best years of our life . Will we all look back upon it , our college days , with longing in our eyes , just wishing to relive them , wishing we'd have done better in them , not done then some of the thing we had done , not said some of the things we had said , not hurt some of the people we had hurt ? Bitter about life , high on experience , wiser .. but better off?? , we stand on almost the edge of this vast expanse of a spectacular experience , a wonderful piece of life , and we all swear , swear by all our pride and self esteem , "Make may we our lifes a little better , break may we a little of our deadlocks with egos , speak out may we a little more clearly to those with us of our love , see may we more magnified those little things others try to do to make us happy , and try may we a little hard , just a little harder , to make everyone else happy , for us , and for everyone else ."

Winds Of ChanGe

The wind was blowing at my face . Body rigid . Senses tense , at their peak , I fly without wings . The road comes on fast at me . As I take the curves I feel the force driving me off my track . I hold on tight to the handle bar afraid , the wheels managing enough traction through the slight jump off the uneven road . I give the throttle a sharp twist sending the bike rushing forward in the sudden spurt of power . I feel the adrelanine rushing . My arms twitch at the effort . My whole body tenses to balance the bike over each curve , tilting the bike, teasing the traction , challenging it . I am trying to pass the car in front . I go in for it . A car is coming from the opposite side . No space to go . I down my gear and twist the throttle . I fly forwards . I can feel the mean machine roaring in fury , majestically with its power. I go head on with the other car . Its is rushing towards me . I am besides the car i'm passing. I lay to one side , leaning on my left hand ,shooting the bike laterally into the gap between the cars . I feel the wind of both cars passing . I duck the rear view mirrors on both sides . Suddenly leaning to the right I'm back straight ..feeling rushed.. feeling great.. glad to be alive .. I ride on ... Its proof you dont need wings to fly .

WorLd??

So it seems Bush is winning the 2004 elections. Frankly I had expected Senator Kerry to win . So did most of my net buddies. But how can anyone predict what the americans would do . Now ,that its almost sure (statistically ,the television is blaring out),what is Bush administration going to do that is going to change the life of millions of people again. They have done it twice in the last term . Watching Rambo III , showed me americans at their hipocritical best . " What are you russians doing here. These are proud people,fighting for their freedom. We made the same mistake . We already had our vietnam ". And some years later we have American special forces running around the same country confused , cursing 'those damn' Muslims for making them part their loving families and fighting jehadis . Now whats left of a country that was devoloping by stride during the mid 70's . How long is it going to take to reuild it all.

But hey ,who remembers Afghnistan when we've got better Iraq(or I'raq for the americans). Saddam ,street smart, had run a country to its peak from god knows what condition. And in a few strokes of master manipulation of media we have 51% of the americans thinking saddam had direct proven contacts with Osama (survey just before the iraq invation ). CNN even had its own snazzy tune composed during sept 11,for a dramatic entry (filmie ishtyle) of the knight Bush. Both CNN and BBC covered the action enthusiastically(in the beginning).Then it just didnt stop.Hasnt,even now.Bombs going off daily,suicide bombers,pampered americans going back home after the unbeleivable stay in the ultra modern city.

Now where are they going to take us. North Korea has already been fixed on . We are going to have a tea party there for sure and soon. And when do we directly come in contact with all this. I mean India does star in most of the possible political scenarios drawn up by Americans(something like India taking over Australia through Sri Lanka in one of the ludlum novels!!),along with pakistan too in some of them. Lets wait and see. Hopefully i'll be in one of those european neutral countries by then .Enjoying the calmness of the lakes and gazing at the clear skies and holding the had of some future beloved of mine.

With a Bowed hEaD..

College next week is going to be something of a carnival , rides and fun , all a part of the game . Aracade gaming , Building design , i do not know what i'd be doing. Both prospects are equally interesting . Both have got their share of perks and turn offs . Both are arenas for showing off one's skills and talents , for bragging ,for boosting esteem and for gaining the repect and awe of peers ,on a scale unimaginable till now.

This maybe uncomprehendable to many . But face it . Guys always need masculine fronts to show off their egos and skills and face them off against each other on a seemingly mindless display of physical strength or skill. Gaming is as close to a duel most of us may get to in real life. Fighting in a real war may not be as romantic as it may seem on a television or in a book . But fighting in a virtual arena with warriors as adept and unrelenting as us is definitely something we could live for for ever. Racing through the roads , burning tarmac , skirting through rush hour traffic at top speeds in mean machine , seemingly risking lives (on mostly a 0-100 health scale),to respawn after a crash losing precious time to opponents , all send the adrelanin pumping right through our viens.

Unreal tournament , you are a warrior send to fight in the tournament . Your strenght and brutality are legendary .You have to fight , fight to show you are the best , to crush your enemies , to win .. the tournament.. Or Counter-Strike , with weapons feeling as real as any game ever , you could feel the M4A1 Maverick Carbine being cocked after a reload almost right in your hands your head cocking from the effort, you could feel the reloaded cartridge being jammed into the gun with the hell of your hand and feel the resistance of the cocking mechanism against your fingers . Bursts of two or three ,sending you back in recoil, catching the opponent in the chest and head , you running away from assaults reloading your gun frantically , desprately trying to stay alive till the gun has juice again to pump lead into the heart of your opponent . That is power. Power in its rudimentary form . You are a warrior , one of the elite....You are a virtual gladiator and the crowd roars at you "You are the best" from the aisles.. You are the legendary .. you are the best ... you are a Gamer...

Awarenes : Prelude

As I was riding through pattom one fine evening , enroute to my T.I.M.E classes, needless to say not on time , I happened t o see a familiar face walking by on the road . Looking closely again ( required cos I would'nt even notice a guy , even if he jumped in front of my speed monster , unlike gals whom i could within seconds place from my extensive data base , even from a partial view of the tip of their shawls ), I saw that it was my class mate Roshan . So I slowed down and went to him , and quickly realised he was excited about something ( My interest suddenly skyrocketed since it looked like it involved gals ).

"Where are ya coming from man..?"
"Loyola college.. woww.. it was fun (something of that sort).. you really should go .."
"What does it involve?"(does it involve meeting chicks?)
"Thats a surprise!!"(wowwww.. that means lots of chicks!!)

Now this started me on a quest to get into the next batch of the Loyola College "Self Awareness and Devolopment" camp , which was into the third batch (already full) . So everyone was excited about it , those who completed it were virtually jumping (hopping) around campus , meeting up with 'loyola'mates of theirs from the various batches. Mag promised me to inform me as soon as the next batch ( specially requested after the incessant demand ) , was posted up in CGPU . In the meanwhile the other three batches of campers were frolicking around , with enhanced people skills ( hmm... meaning hi's to everyone ) , boosted confidence ( read anugeetha's sudden break into class conversations and occasional group trips to the snack bar to have a sip-up ) , and newly made friends ( hema and kittu step into the kalapani for the first time in their lives to see roshan ) . Finally the notice was out , or on the way to get out , and mag rushed to me with the news . So me and kulu , he forsaking his college bus ride , started to run frantically to the CGPU to get there before the forms ran out . Mountain climbing , repelling , sliding , panting we reached the CGPU door . Ahhh.. the forms were still there . We were in . We would get to go to the famed camp , to improve our personalities , to meet chicks , to have unlimited amount of fun ( guaranteed by satisfied costomers )....

We The People

We the people. It does catch the imagination of the population , firing up the patriotic zeal in the volatile minds of the youth of a nation ,which is still with bright memories of a fight , a fight of a nation for its independence. You sit in a theatre and watch Shah Rukh Khan being transformed from a Non Returning Indian ,walking around with his ever faithful aquafina ( how many times have we seen it in real life , so real !) and slowly feeling the fires of righteousness lighting up , slowly and steadily , finally manifesting itself as tear filled scene where he finally realises the hardships of the *real people* ,handing out all the money he has to an apolegetic farmer who can't even feed his children but treats his guest like 'bhagvan'. I have to hand it to them ,because this is one of the moments where the movie finally sets itself to a good rhythm and pace. From there on even the ever screaming ,wise cracking mass of mostly fist years , who formed the majority of the theatre population ,were silent ,sitting on the edge of their seats ,hanging on to every word coming out of the talented actor ,each one vibrating with patriotic flair and those coming out of the not so talented but gorgeous actress. The songs in the movie had everyone clapping their hands to the beat , showing yet again how A.R.Rahman can entice listeners whether he does more movies than we can imagine possible or not . Chala was, like always in a bad mood , but that did not deter any of us from having fun ,during the carefully constructed hoaxed visit , Roshan disgusting meenu with his descriptions of the dead rat and CJ late by half an hour like always . In the end though the bad acting of the actress finally caught up with the movie , destroying one of the *nail biting* scenes , when she with close eyes 'chanted' ,"please dont go , please dont go" , to finally see that Shah Rukh had gone . It was better , to have him go and complete his 'Nasha'(NASA) lauch ,ripped off from countless movies , but ripped off reasonably well. So no complaints . All in all the movie is what it says it is - a serious movie which tries to break the mould of masala movies ,one which doesnt compromise good film making ,just to make a fashion statement . Go watch it if you dont mind long old hindi dialogues which you may have heard a thousand times . "Sanskruti...Parampara". Jai Hind!

Day Of The Jackal

He came pounding down the dirt trodden path at brisk pace. He looked around with his keen eye spotting his prey for the day . His sunken beady eyes glared out from under those protruding bones of his forehead. He stretched his limbs and body menacingly , freeing it from the strings of long inactivity of the previous night. Walking up and down , he analysed the flat expanse of dry , rugged terrain in front of him . He picked his line of attack , going over his action plan again ,making sure that his chances were good for a quick and clean kill . He looked at up at the sun ,guaging the time by its diuranal motion. The time was near,he could feel it . The day was hot . He licked his lips , feeling his saliva soak the dried skin ,making him feel instantly better. He used his furry paws to scratch his itching neck . Turning slowly he walked ,with neck hung low ,eyes down , conserving energy , searching for a comfortable place to lay in wait for the right angle of sun and for his hunting partner for the day to come . He sat there hidden from view from his prey , making murmuring sounds deep from his throat.

I was feeling tensed , unexpected at it was to me , it was making my palms moist in the mid morning sun. I knew I was safe for the moment , but I had seen the jackal come, reconnoitre and make his way into the shade . I could feel the tension among the other poor animals with me. They too could feel their time was close . Perspiration was running down the neck of each of the females with me . They could see that the hunter would go for the weaker female . I moved to their side and tried to calm a couple of them who were particularly close to me . I could see that one of them was taking long labourious breaths . I tried to calm her , or she would'nt have a chance at survival . Freezing in tense situations was a wide response I had seen among them . But today that would spell their definite doom , because the hunter today was as relentless and cunning , as he was fast in picking out the weaknesses in his prey.

Yes ,today was the fifth semester survey lab examination . The time was mid morning . We , a batch of two boys and 6 girls were waiting outside the civil engineering laboratory building , lazing around in front of the dirt laden roads . I could hear someone taking deep breaths . Turning around I see Anjana filling her chest with long inhalations and calm exhalations in a futile attempt to calm her jumpy nerves. Arathi was cool as ever , atleast on the outside . But i could feel her hand turning cold in mine. Finally after a while the time was here to see the result of what the constant conspiring of the external and internal examiners had churned out to make to make us sweat and toil in the hot sun and finally burn out our intellects and imaginations and still not reach a plausible result which may atleast lay to rest our fears untill we get out of the lab. Ofcourse the question appeared simple enough on first glance , but ofcourse , why would they do that ;give a simple question ? I had all the observations I needed , each of which i had painstakingly taken ,making sure each were correct to the nearest second .*what for?* Resuming the juggling i had left off an hour earlier, with the trignometric relations , on the plain figure , I used up all the imagination i could muster to improvise towards , at the least , a plausible answer. But needless to say nothing came out of the skillful manipulations and assumptions I made to dupe the examiner into overestimating my mathematical talents .

In the end I was probably better off than the others, Anjana having to manufacture readings and most others way off the mark with their *genuine* calculations. Lets wait and see whether all my innovative *creative* calculation methods pay off. *Varaan ollathu vazhiyil thangilla!*