tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26539340800402705972024-03-13T23:05:57.465-07:00Devillish InnocenceDrunken Words & Sober Thoughts , I write them all, here...Mani Lalwanihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07507179660184880239noreply@blogger.comBlogger27125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653934080040270597.post-54573482830861214682023-06-18T10:49:00.003-07:002023-06-18T10:49:48.943-07:00To the one who couldn’t be<p> Hey Love,</p><p><br /></p><p>Today is June 18th, Father’s day. I could have been a would-be father today but alas.</p><p><br /></p><p>Since R and I realized we were expecting, I had been particularly keen on reading everything on Google. One of the things that I read was that only after week 10 does a embryo become a foetus. Google is wrong! You were our foetus, our baby and our love since the day of conception.</p><p><br /></p><p>You decided to leave us 8 weeks and 4 days in and I am gutted to know that come Jan’24, I will not see you or be able to hold you in my hands. R and me were both looking forward to this so much. While she was scared, I don’t think I have ever been more ready for anything in life.</p><p><br /></p><p>What’s bygone is bygone as they say and we will (probably) get over this and hopefully have a baby or two (or eleven as I joke with R) but I do want to document here on my blog Bija, you will always be remembered with immense fondness. That moment when I saw your heartbeat was one of the finest moment I have ever lived. You gave me so much happiness in your brief existence that I am ready to try a thousand times over. You are love. <3 Thank you!</p><p><br /></p><p>Since we knew you were not with us, there is this one poem which keeps playing in my head “main tenu phir milaunga” by Amrita Pritam. I have played it on loop on this chicago trip and every time I hear it, I feel you are talking to me. Reassuring me that you are around. Here’s my answer to you (butchered the poem, but please bear with Papa. This is the best he could do)</p><p><br /></p><p>Tu mujhe phir milega</p><p>Kidhar kis tarah nahi maalum</p><p>Par tu mujhe phir milega</p><p><br /></p><p>Shayad meri office ki diary ke last page pe</p><p>gode hue kai naam banke</p><p>jo maine soche the tere liye</p><p><br /></p><p>Tu mujhe phir milega</p><p><br /></p><p>Shayad mere chehre ki muskurahat banke</p><p>Jab mere se koi puchega</p><p>Pehli bar parenthood ki feeling kaisi thi</p><p><br /></p><p>Tu mujhe phir milega</p><p>Kidhar kis tarah nahi maalum</p><p>Par tu mujhe phir milega</p><p><br /></p><p><3</p>Mani Lalwanihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07507179660184880239noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653934080040270597.post-2497137515469456122022-04-26T10:13:00.006-07:002022-04-26T10:25:42.629-07:001 year of tolerating me - officially :)My love Ritu, <div><br /></div><div><b> किसी भी रिश्ते को बनाने से पहले अपनी आंखों पूरी खुली रखो, </b></div><div><b>और उस रिश्ते के बन जाने पे आधी बंद कर दो! </b></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>This quote from Ashutosh Rana is playing in my head as I am writing you an anniversary post. Why a post and not a letter? I don't know maybe so we can read this to our grandkids some day? maybee, let's see!!!</div><div><br /></div><div>It's going to be a year tomorrow to the day we got married on the 27th April 2021 during peak of Covid second wave in the extremely intimate wedding ceremony. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1tz9xOSVQh30Z0G52XQcHL7PqwT9fBGbZ5XmYSjyZFjMCSyHzzoGuMxTSvZK-NTBReiA7Dm-IEVwfJaipAcq7kPS12CpK3YSqTI_m7vjv6zWzGcwfecZiOzZvO7ssI88nxmibr2KyMaJUslr-fhkHTRfGbPh3L8iELTudRxFLHav6oBP3taw0mKnH7w/s724/Captureaaaaa.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="724" data-original-width="619" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1tz9xOSVQh30Z0G52XQcHL7PqwT9fBGbZ5XmYSjyZFjMCSyHzzoGuMxTSvZK-NTBReiA7Dm-IEVwfJaipAcq7kPS12CpK3YSqTI_m7vjv6zWzGcwfecZiOzZvO7ssI88nxmibr2KyMaJUslr-fhkHTRfGbPh3L8iELTudRxFLHav6oBP3taw0mKnH7w/s320/Captureaaaaa.JPG" width="274" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>I am incredibly lucky to have found you. <b>You are Pretty, kind, loving and humble</b>. I can't tell you enough how much I respect you and your sheer resilience to study and study so hard at that. I would have given up like at least 5 years ago.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>During the last one year, we saw a lot of 'wedding' as you were living in Mangalore to finish up on your studies, now is when we start living together and will start seeing a lot of 'marriage.' I can't wait but honestly I am slightly scared as well. </div><div>As we start living together and understand each other, there would be things we would not be aligned on. I just want to tell you that we will work those out. <b>Slowly and gradually. One by one.</b> Let's not give up on each other and become the boring sad old couples, like never ever.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>I love you to the moon and back.</b></div><div><br /></div><div>Manish </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Song of the day - This one is for you</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/CNZMIhckaA0" width="320" youtube-src-id="CNZMIhckaA0"></iframe></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Mani Lalwanihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07507179660184880239noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653934080040270597.post-56348580947276610822021-05-30T13:37:00.014-07:002021-06-01T06:32:28.653-07:00An ode of remembrance… Mr. Mayank<p> <span style="text-align: justify;">This is for you Mr. Mayank.</span><span style="text-align: justify;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXZSrNtJGmqwsq356yMTd3XqKmTrzXo9LN5C420_BrAnjM6irlNP88Me31-PRe0yH81Map8CrjnxS0YAvdwM89YZT-128plq7k626hXLhQApJxTjBaUDJVYfbRrOrgtkrDJCwqnkQMVjHq/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="693" data-original-width="719" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXZSrNtJGmqwsq356yMTd3XqKmTrzXo9LN5C420_BrAnjM6irlNP88Me31-PRe0yH81Map8CrjnxS0YAvdwM89YZT-128plq7k626hXLhQApJxTjBaUDJVYfbRrOrgtkrDJCwqnkQMVjHq/" width="249" /></a></div>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Very rarely have I come across a
man with qualities like you. Dynamic and competent at workplace; humble and
satisfied outside of workplace – I always looked up to your way of life.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">My first boss, you literally introduced
me to the corporate lifestyle. I vividly remember all your teachings from “forcing
me to use excel without a mouse” to “mentoring me in taking the right decisions.”
You were the best first boss one could have asked for. Tough; lived by the deadlines;
made sure I understand and finish up work you allotted to me but also made sure
to stay back with me in office till I finished writing the codes.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">ZS and consulting lifestyle was difficult.
I had so many dinners with you during those two years. We would just eat the instant maggi available in office or order rolls for the convenience and quick turnaround. I used to despise sitting
those long hours but looking back what I learnt back then is 2013 is my bread
and butter till date.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">You had a positive and pleasing
aura. I always looked forward to meeting you outside of work and especially
coming to your home. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Trying the herbs, Meeting
skye, listening to Balcony TV, sitting under the beer bottle chandelier, I have
so many happy memories from your place. I remember how passionately you used to
talk about things – From hydroponics during the ZS days to trekking when I last
met you a couple of years. You were an inspiration.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">For me you will always be the one who was busy doing gazillion things all at
once and surprisingly managed all of them with at most perfection. Seems you always knew you had a limited time
and hence made the most of it!<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">Farewell Mr. Mayank - my mentor/friend/brother.
Muchas gracias, amigo. Muchas gracias. The world is a lonelier and a sadder place
without you.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi79bHAE4bZ_OlIn3CoWT3JQWmW4NnbLprYWmggFkzvZ7KncAC0JDxXmfLnegbDdiDXXkJ_xo-XAnwm6DzyuWxix47xrMS5eHHlk5Ii5y9qqGehnbSPCMWSUal5Nv6wRrl5LNqlWGiZbHmo/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" data-original-height="469" data-original-width="732" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi79bHAE4bZ_OlIn3CoWT3JQWmW4NnbLprYWmggFkzvZ7KncAC0JDxXmfLnegbDdiDXXkJ_xo-XAnwm6DzyuWxix47xrMS5eHHlk5Ii5y9qqGehnbSPCMWSUal5Nv6wRrl5LNqlWGiZbHmo/" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: justify;">Letter I had written to Mayank from Spiti. Was never delivered :| </span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">P.S. – Fuck you COVID!!! A giant FUCK
YOU to hell and back.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>Mani Lalwanihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07507179660184880239noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653934080040270597.post-50396599985409478702021-01-26T21:50:00.013-08:002021-01-26T22:03:29.519-08:00A note from that 'Indian'<p><br /></p><p>I am an Indian,</p><p><br /></p><p>* who talks about corruption and curses the politicians, the government servants but then I pay that 500 rupee customary note at the passport office to make the process smoother. </p><p><br /></p><p>* who can't sing the complete national song 'Vande Mataram'. It's difficult to remember.</p><p><br /></p><p>* who needs national holidays to express and realize the feeling of patriotism, that extra bit which doesn't come on regular days. I even change my display picture with a national flag, but then I go back to my other photos after a couple of days.</p><p><br /></p><p>* who sees that man by the footpath, dirty and disgusted. I feel sorry and I spare some change. I never ask the reason for his state. They are just, too many in India.</p><p><br /></p><p>* who feels proud of the diverse culture, the heritage of India. But I also think that people from other states, they disturb my state, they spread dirt in my clean house.</p><p><br /></p><p>* who wants to take a high paying job abroad, save in dollars and then come back to make a change. But may be, I'll settle abroad only, the standard of living is unmatched.</p><p><br /></p><p>* who is concerned that big corporates are consolidating and are getting their way against unorganized farmers and shopkeepers but then I invest only in blue chip companies in stock market because I need to be rational while investing and think about long term.</p><p><br /></p><p>* who watches news about farmers protesting for their rights in the capital for last 2 months now and feels like supporting. So I log in on Instagram, twitter and my blog, and I join online campaigns and express my support. Then I eat my dinner and sleep on time, since I have a job and family too.</p><p><br /></p><p>* who is gutted by the fact that a comedian has been in custody for almost a month now for a joke he didn't perform just because he has a Muslim name. So, I post about it on Instagram every once a while and keep the hashtag #freemanuwarfaruqui trending. What more can I do?</p><p><br /></p><p>* who is even ready to step out and take an action for the cause of the nation, for sure. I am just waiting for other to start for me.</p><p><br /></p><p>* who is practical. I know I can't make a change.</p><p><br /></p><p>I wish only I am that Indian, not you. </p><p>Jai Hind!</p><p><br /></p><p>P.S. - Happy 72nd republic India. I can't be more proud of all the things we have achieved in the last 7 decades. Having said that, I can't be more cynical regarding the path we are headed to in the last 7 years. Indian is a secular country, has always been. Make no mistake. Here's hoping we are able to uphold the fundamental fabric of this constitution we celebrate the 72nd anniversary of today because, as John Oliver famously said in his talk show "India, the land of enduring symbol of love (The Taj Mahal) frankly deserves a lot more then this temporary symbol of hate (NaMo.)" </p><p><br /></p><p>Song of the day - Here's a brilliant song I had heard when CAB protests were in full swing last year. Kafi kafi sarcastic. Do give it a listen <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A7vDw04hgfM" target="_blank">here</a>.</p><p><br /></p><p>Humor of the day - Found this while randomly scrolling on internet. Can't agree more given the current context.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu4-sa9JUyx8sXpheyqa6uQBi8p7OlUXlr81WMm1u8WDnkFdzL7Xsrgh1UpoEt21qmMsW7MdWfCnFINb1B62bvfYrz9QMHW-rur_SqIGOsJ8esxmzGvdllYL-SEiVp1MDrSKQj5rOYif2D/s489/Capture.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="250" data-original-width="489" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu4-sa9JUyx8sXpheyqa6uQBi8p7OlUXlr81WMm1u8WDnkFdzL7Xsrgh1UpoEt21qmMsW7MdWfCnFINb1B62bvfYrz9QMHW-rur_SqIGOsJ8esxmzGvdllYL-SEiVp1MDrSKQj5rOYif2D/w400-h205/Capture.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p>Also, #freemunawarfaruqui please. Pretty please. It's would be immensely sad for the comedy world and humanity if he stops pursuing comedy once out of jail (hopefully soon) and we lose out on this special talent and thousands of others who would have followed him just because someone in power can't take a joke. </p><p><br /></p><p>Cheers,</p><p>Me!</p>Mani Lalwanihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07507179660184880239noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653934080040270597.post-74392320988651488322020-12-25T11:07:00.027-08:002020-12-25T11:37:59.381-08:00Two of a kind (Part 1/3)<p style="text-align: justify;"><b>Chapter 1</b></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;">It was early evening by the time Sara reached Pelling, a small hill town in west Sikkim, India. She had planned to stay here for a day before travelling further west. “To travel is to live” she would say when people asked her motivation behind packing a backpack every second month and leaving on a mission to see the world one place at a time.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Pelling, situated on the foothills of Kanchenjunga mountain range is a relatively unknown suburb with the local Buddhist monastery being the only major tourist attraction but for Sara it was the perfect stopover. Unable to wait for the next morning, she decided to visit the monastery right away.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">The Pelling monastery was a crumbling structure precariously placed on a small mountain. There were places where not more than 3 people could go together as a safety precaution. At one such partially forbidden place in the monastery at the edge of a cliff, she lied down under the orange blue sky looking at the view of the mountains and the greenery while the sun started to set in the background - one of the many exquisite paintings’ nature had been kind to paint in and around the town. Monastery bells ringing in the background added to the soothing vibe and Sara almost didn't realize when sleep got the better of her. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Next thing she remembered was waking up to a freak yet calm voice. There stood Raghav with 2 cups of piping hot black tea in his hand. Raghav, on a month-long excavation to conquer the Kanchenjunga mountains, was staying in the monastery for a week to get accustomed to the climate before starting on his trek. “Chai?” he asked her in an innocent tone half-knowing the answer as he handed her a cup and sat next to her overlooking the valley. How could she say no!</p><p style="text-align: justify;">They sipped their chai in peace for the next few minutes. “So, what made you get me this cup of tea? I was dying for one.” Sara asked.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">“Everything always works out because everything is a part of the one and only unity. The unity told me you needed chai. So, I got you one” He answered seriously but soon broke into a faint smile. “Sorry, too much of being around monks does that to you.” He said and they both shared a hearty chuckle. </p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;">Chapter 2 & 3 to follow soon (hopefully!).</p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMYy8VUWKcipvRgyYAPmTlYtFqxpz8h8ESz5f3HdsSJlzjcESf6Es28kEygSdMy7QmWyY40QgHuKfgou14h0woolbN7UBsiXjkO4TtRc78P34s-ZkY_sdAtZuXVt3SEvJZ7oU6vVh0corU/s1822/qqq.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="852" data-original-width="1822" height="188" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMYy8VUWKcipvRgyYAPmTlYtFqxpz8h8ESz5f3HdsSJlzjcESf6Es28kEygSdMy7QmWyY40QgHuKfgou14h0woolbN7UBsiXjkO4TtRc78P34s-ZkY_sdAtZuXVt3SEvJZ7oU6vVh0corU/w400-h188/qqq.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo clicked at Langza, Spiti. June-19.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>P.S. - Merry Christmas everyone. 🤗 Almost can't wait for this year and covid to get over. Had so many travel plans in 2020 but someone thought it was a good idea to eat a bat :/ and damn, here we are! </div><p style="text-align: justify;">Been in Bhopal for the better part of last 9 months now. It's a bitter sweet feeling. While I miss all the random gatherings & chill sessions with friends, been around parents for so long after a decade :) </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Can't wait for the day when I get vaccinated and stop using these dumb masks. Hopefully, sooner than later. Hopefully, we leave behind these covid woes in 2020 and have a fantastic 2021!</p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;">Song of the day - Floated by: Peter cat recording company. </p><p style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=961LpbX4zCU" target="_blank">watch here</a></p><p style="text-align: justify;">Thanks VK for introducing me to this gem. The whole Frank Sinatra, Bill Withers vibe in this song is so amazing. Do keep a watch on the video as well. The wedding footage is from lead singer Surya's own wedding and is so well done. </p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;">Humor of the day - </p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVjDuqFDwKLACt7sh6e1pJ-6fJUAooiNhRsy61CxJsZ2UJ03nSozvEn6FaQ1knmTVDHHrHVNkJG78nB1ZIi1mo7u-5kW7S1YnzTp_3eBxNL6QkfuXmmSjEo9yHOoneWy8BVqvCouzp0oLB/s1080/08b0b9a8-4ff7-4537-851b-865822a85b31.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="946" data-original-width="1080" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVjDuqFDwKLACt7sh6e1pJ-6fJUAooiNhRsy61CxJsZ2UJ03nSozvEn6FaQ1knmTVDHHrHVNkJG78nB1ZIi1mo7u-5kW7S1YnzTp_3eBxNL6QkfuXmmSjEo9yHOoneWy8BVqvCouzp0oLB/s320/08b0b9a8-4ff7-4537-851b-865822a85b31.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: justify;">So so relatable. Follow poorlydrawnlines </span><a href="https://www.instagram.com/poorlydrawnlines/" style="text-align: justify;" target="_blank">here</a><span style="text-align: justify;">.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;">Signing off. </p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;">Cheers, </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Me.</p>Mani Lalwanihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07507179660184880239noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653934080040270597.post-85834808427034333932020-03-23T23:48:00.002-07:002020-03-23T23:48:21.974-07:00An antithesis idea of this world<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I have an antithesis idea of this world. I would like to live in it for a year. A day might sound very good <span id="m_5972234017229506305c6301d89-1521-468f-a80d-72a2a115cacd">rhetorically</span>, but that isn't enough.<br />
<br />Where black would be the superior race and whites slaved in the past centuries. Africa would be what the USA is today. Japan would have dropped atom bombs over it. Russians would be what <span id="m_5972234017229506305644233c8-bd3b-4245-b4d6-b08773768035">Greeks</span> and Romans were. Where India, Pakistan and Sri Lanka would be one country. Pacific ocean would be <span id="m_5972234017229506305d9d44b12-5a3e-4a2e-8ac4-bfbf0d77691a">a</span> land locked mass<span id="m_59722340172295063052bd8c001-fc40-45ce-897d-c1f23f5f5482">.</span>Middle East would be water majority and Chinese would be tall and handsome. Where Europe would be driven mad <span id="m_5972234017229506305e27ec5f0-3ba7-4300-bb3a-b479ca52cfcb">with</span> civil wars. Russia would be the smallest country and New Zealand the largest. Capital of India would be Chennai.<br /><br />The earth would spin clockwise. Sunny and warm weather at the poles and ice caps at the equator. We would have October, November and December as the 8th, 9th and 10th months of the year. It would rain in April and winters in June. There would be two moons. One small and large. Where we would be aliens for some other planet. Where birds would be called fishes, <span id="m_597223401722950630599d35ef0-f7c3-4219-828a-c4fb1079b7b5">fishes cats</span><span id="m_5972234017229506305549eb662-dc65-49ac-84f6-830b49b08dc1"> ,</span> <span id="m_5972234017229506305afbe67de-67e1-4eb5-a93d-6253ed5d519d">cats dogs</span> and dogs birds. Stars would look square rather than dots. Rainbows would be black and red.<br /><br />It would be a matriarchal society and women would be driven by sex and men by materialistic ambitions. Golf would be the most exciting sport. Argentina would produce great cricketers.<br /><br />But one thing I wouldn't change. You and me. :) </div>
Mani Lalwanihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07507179660184880239noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653934080040270597.post-59600120346100712522019-10-21T21:00:00.000-07:002019-10-21T21:04:59.327-07:00Messy shoes and a cluttered mind<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Messy shoes, untucked shirt,unattended stubble on his cheeks and a cluttered mind full of thoughts about back home. Somehow Amir made it to his flight. He was at the boarding gate all along but never realized when the boarding had started. Thoughts about home had kept him occupied all along.<br />
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He wasn't usually the clumsy one. If anything he loved Airports and always reached well before stipulated time. He was always excited by the idea of an airport. That feeling of witnessing first hand the hundreads of happy-sad stories around him. Couples meeting each other after long, Parents bidding goodbye to their kids working in other cities, college friends going for a vacation. There is so much to look and feel at an airport, he would say. Airport's don't judge. Aren't prejudice. Airports represent all the good we are as a humanity. It doesn't matter your religion, how much money you have, the color of your skin, if you're man, woman or a child. It's an accepting global village. Doesn't matter who you are, you are welcome to be there.<br />
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But, today was different. There was an eerie silence in his flight to Srinagar. This was the first flight being operated after Narendra Modi led Indian government had announced the revocation of Jammu & Kashmir's autonomy on 5th August 2019 and an information blackout had ensued ever since. It had been 96 long hours since he had a word with his Abbu who had went to spend his one month in his ancestral village like every year.<br />
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Almost all other passengers had identical stories, carrying emergency food, clothing, money in cash and hope in eyes to reunite with their loved ones unharmed. Whatever came out of this journey was a thing of discussion for some other day but one thing was for certain, Amir, his co-passengers in the flight and millions of other kashmiri's could never forgive the current government for the way they bought about this change.<br />
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P.S. - Sitting here in our comfortable AC homes, we can never imagine the plight of people in valley. Just read today that it has been 75 long days since schools functioned. Let's be a bit more aware about the situations before we casually put our opinions in a discussion - H" toh Modi ne accha hi kiya. State govt se support khatam ho jayega toh terrorism toh khatam ho hi jayega..." Unfortunately, things aren't that simple. Burned fingers once in Demonetization. burned fingers twice in revocation of J&K's autonomy. How are we so okay with such badly planned, half cooked plans of this government?<br />
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Once bitten, twice shy, thrice just a moron!<br />
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#75daysofblackout<br />
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peace out!<br />
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cheers,<br />
Me</div>
Mani Lalwanihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07507179660184880239noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653934080040270597.post-42703823531751948002019-07-29T01:14:00.000-07:002019-07-29T11:44:37.659-07:00Happy 26th<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Bhavika was never really big on celebrating birthdays, not even as a kid. She remembered cutting the cake at midnight with her family. But, that's pretty much it. No dressing up for Birthday, No distributing chocolates to classmates, No birthday treat to friends, No pestering parents for gifts. All that was not Bhavika. She would just sit with a book in the favorite corner of her room and read. Like any other day. "</span><i style="text-align: justify;">What's there to celebrate Amma? It's just another day.</i><span style="text-align: justify;">" was what she will say when her mom would ask for her Birthday plans. </span></div>
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Fast forward to 2019. She was turning 26 tomorrow night. Nothing much had changed, except for her surroundings. She was a big girl now and had her own place to call home. She was sitting on a hammock strategically placed in her favorite part of the room and reading a Jhumpa Lahiri. The horlicks milk her mom would get her every night was replaced by a glass of wine she had to pour for herself but that was pretty much it in terms of the changes. The breeze from the window was messing up with her hair but for once she didn't mind. She was engrossed in the story.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVvAAgviNG6omZGmuEINeHAk6FpjYeb3mIBiueXXSzfoI_3j9Zmf2iGo8TCaYT8WhLXBTUs-SLHfV6GNz3j_BqLO260xeD2ib0URuym3hkd5lE5vOanV3-8jSaI8GcTYoznj8K4xBO0up7/s1600/ce247c809f596c0359449b772471780c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="272" data-original-width="640" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVvAAgviNG6omZGmuEINeHAk6FpjYeb3mIBiueXXSzfoI_3j9Zmf2iGo8TCaYT8WhLXBTUs-SLHfV6GNz3j_BqLO260xeD2ib0URuym3hkd5lE5vOanV3-8jSaI8GcTYoznj8K4xBO0up7/s640/ce247c809f596c0359449b772471780c.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Just then her phone buzzed. It was Ramit, her work colleague and generally an *interesting* guy to talk to. "<i>Hey kiddo, wassup? What Birthday plans for tomorrow?</i>" She read the text surprised that he remembered. "<i>What's there to celebrate? It's just another day</i>" she thought to herself but instead replied "<i>Am excited. Haven't planned anything yet though. Let's go out for dinner?</i>"<br />
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Maybe some more things were about to change. 😇 </div>
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P.S. - 4 months since the last post. Documenting life - It's been good generally. New job, New house. A lot to look forward to. Amen!</div>
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Song of the day - 'Sage' by Ritviz. The song is really good with Ritviz's trademark electronic feel but what's surprising is how he has blended the electronic feel of the overall track with soothing vocals and a great melody humming. I really like it. Also, the video is super cute. As a tall guy, I relate 😁😁</div>
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Humor of the day - </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinEjp1QGo8rK0D67Eed7sNVkzKBa1P6tKKOPnTIsp9YD9-f6q-fglW5-28DOQxOD5i5ccTmZZcms4PJw29iVIfG1aE8ExavQDMoluRGeih4Z42ofm6qfrEH5LP37CVE-tJGKOA6Bwg1LrS/s1600/rule.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="616" data-original-width="700" height="350" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinEjp1QGo8rK0D67Eed7sNVkzKBa1P6tKKOPnTIsp9YD9-f6q-fglW5-28DOQxOD5i5ccTmZZcms4PJw29iVIfG1aE8ExavQDMoluRGeih4Z42ofm6qfrEH5LP37CVE-tJGKOA6Bwg1LrS/s400/rule.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">courtesy - Reza Farazmand from Poorlydrawnlines. He's genius!<br />
This reminds me I still need to watch The Lion king. Care to join. anyone? </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Signing off!</div>
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Cheers,</div>
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Manish</div>
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Mani Lalwanihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07507179660184880239noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653934080040270597.post-35218141113578069862019-02-11T10:06:00.000-08:002019-02-11T10:42:49.592-08:00Gang wars & other such silly things<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidiHdDHxgvk34xYhuohAtlKSOUeoFB3cJTOicdA5LOsLUqUdDychpqhzF1ehGlE7Kz8TW837rVzPagihmgC-740uDouhEmhRKH6XTjdDybS-d6XKmJxp-izlLy-Wmpo5Fa7ZiaW5H-sZNv/s1600/Capture2.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="269" data-original-width="682" height="156" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidiHdDHxgvk34xYhuohAtlKSOUeoFB3cJTOicdA5LOsLUqUdDychpqhzF1ehGlE7Kz8TW837rVzPagihmgC-740uDouhEmhRKH6XTjdDybS-d6XKmJxp-izlLy-Wmpo5Fa7ZiaW5H-sZNv/s400/Capture2.PNG" width="400" /></a></div>
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So, this is back in the day when yours truly was in second year of college and was called Bhalu Boss (BB) by his friends for a) he was fat AF, b) had hair density more then that of a grizzly and c) yours truly liked the ring to the name - Bhalu Boss (<i>sounds like a gangsta. No?</i>) Thankfully, only (b) is true right now. But then I can't do much about it, can I? I can just blame the excessive hair on my sindhi lineage.</div>
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Anyways, we were a group of 41 friends/brothers who were always together because we had been ragged in first year together (<i>yea, we were silly like that</i>). Second year had just started and life was going all hunky dory with nothing major to worry about. But, we were a group of 41 boys and 0 girls and hence, testosterone levels were quite high in the group and we didn't mind looking for reasons to fight. "<i>usko toh maarna hai.. aiwai.. yuhhi bus maarna hai</i>" was how any conversation would usually end.</div>
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Having set the context, let me move to the story now. So, yours truly one day came to know that one of his 37 brothers, Bhola Bhagwan was beaten by the hostelers last night for he did some fucked up shit involving one of the hostelers and his girlfriend. Lil BB really liked Bhola Bhagwan for he shared the same alias with him. This was enough to enrage BB and he vowed - 'I shall avenge Bhola's beating and only then would I take a bath'. <i>Yes, our vows were also silly like that!</i></div>
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So, Lil BB took it upon himself to arrange an emergency meeting of his 41 brothers and surprisingly 12 actually showed up. Lil BB quickly setup the broad agenda for the meeting and put forward his message. He not only managed to convince everyone to join him but also to deploy guerilla tactics and beat up the guilty hostelers right then and there. Excellent oratory skills and raging testosterone levels together does make for a lethal combination.</div>
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The plan of action was decided including the minutest of details such as the route we will go through, the types of 'hathiyars' we would carry and the role each persons would perform. We had 4 bikes and a Honda activa among ourselves and hence, 13 people including lil BB needed to be arranged. It is important to know at this stage, that the Activa belonged to a guy named Danny Batla (DB) who was easily the most sincerest non-violent guy after Mr. Gandhi. A reincarnation of Mother Teresa would be an exaggeration but you get the drift. </div>
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So, Lil BB came up with another ingenious plan that the 12 people would go on 4 bikes triple seated and DB would drive the activa alone carrying hathiyar in the front of his activa. The hack being no one will doubt DB's intentions. He will lead us on the road and hence, we will sail crystal clear till the hostel. Convinced of the ingenuity of the idea, everyone quickly concealed our weaponry inside of engineering drawing sheet holders and kept with DB on the activa while rest decked up on the bikes. DB started the voyage 2 minutes earlier then us and we followed with revenge in eyes and battle cries in heart . Bhola must be avenged! Chaos must be created!</div>
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Two things happened during the uneventful part from when we left for hostel to the point when we reached:</div>
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a) One of our 41 brothers who didn't show up but was aware of the plans ratted us out to a hosteler and hence, hostelers were expecting the surprise visit. They had been able to quickly arrange a group of 30 odd boys with makeshift weapons who were ready to fight for their hostel, for their pride.</div>
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b) DB's activa was short on fuel and had ran out of fuel on the way to the hostel some 2 kms away from the planned scene of attack.</div>
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Unaware of these two minor developments, Lil BB and other boys reached hostel, parked their bikes and entered the hostel porch according to the plan hoping to find DB with weaponry and unaware hostelers minding their own business as targets. Instead, they were greeted by 30 odd blood thirsty boys well equipped with advanced techniques of warfare such as a sledge hammer and a chair among many other things. </div>
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Lil BB quickly realized the gravity of the situation, closed his eyes, prayed, thought of the famous quote "This is not the situation we deserve, but the one we need to prove ourselves," opened his eyes, had one last look at the enemy, turned around and ran like a lil Bitch. His friends soon followed. Let's just say, we did put up a good run and a good fight during that run. When DB came pushing his activa 5 minutes later, he found one of his brother ninja hathodi (NH) running towards him without a shirt which he had literally ran out of when hostelers grabbed his shirt.<br />
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Lil BB doesn't remember a lot from that day except for a lot of running and the decision he took later that evening to not only 'not take a bath' but also 'not shave' till revenge was served to the hostelers. <i>Yes we were silly like that.</i></div>
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---X---X---</div>
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P.S. - I have been all nostalgic, remembering college days since this weekend. Went to DB's wedding yesterday and he introduced me as "Crime Partner" to his significant other. Felt good. Felt like we shared a bond. A bond that was beyond friendship. <i>College friendships are like that I guess.</i> Congrats DB for the wedding.<br />
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P.P.S. - NH (the guy without the shirt) was also there. He still blames DB for the complete fiasco. If only DB's activa had fuel that day, he said after a round of drinks. Yours truly agreed and nodded. :) to DB and to NH and to all my friends, Cheers Lads! We have led a colorful colorful college life.<br />
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Song of the day - "Jai wolf - Indian Summer." Beautiful art and music. Magical gift for solo adventure travelers. Do watch the video if you're a beach person.<br />
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Humor of the day -<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4_9vqZb8OCn6ZMpHMS8OgnyP2kSnuXHAs9tNnktNDshUX41gdAlwPyUta3Kf1YIKQOFiIl_vRlMm41MwDDUly-QFdS0xJrKW7Wv1R2VwbT1Oq6vFPRLEtTLobGcBgsdTVOm97MdoWmyi9/s1600/Capture.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="578" data-original-width="581" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4_9vqZb8OCn6ZMpHMS8OgnyP2kSnuXHAs9tNnktNDshUX41gdAlwPyUta3Kf1YIKQOFiIl_vRlMm41MwDDUly-QFdS0xJrKW7Wv1R2VwbT1Oq6vFPRLEtTLobGcBgsdTVOm97MdoWmyi9/s320/Capture.PNG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Do follow "jake likes onions" for more such dank strips :D<br />
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Cheers,<br />
Me</div>
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Mani Lalwanihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07507179660184880239noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653934080040270597.post-16612485411333614372019-02-08T01:22:00.003-08:002019-02-08T01:45:50.527-08:00Objective answers @ life<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
A guy, shabbily dressed in a Jeans and a Hoodie, walked out of one
of the numerous road side eateries that exist right outside the most IT
companies/Startup hub areas in the city.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Imagine
you were the sales executive representing a credit card issuing bank. Should
you approach him with a pitch. What’s the most spontaneous answer in your mind?
No. Right? This guy would probably not make the cut in terms of income bracket
that would be required for eligibility. <o:p></o:p><br />
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But what if he was one of them, the fancy IIT-IIM crowd, who
wanted to try a startup for once and the shabby jeans-hoodie is nothing but his way of
belonging to this place. A honest but pathetic attempt. If you give it some
more thought, he is obviously here at a big fat pay cheque and would be actively looking at financial products to manage his earnings better. Thus, making him
the prime target for you.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>What
should you do? Don’t
you wish there was this ideal calculator wherein you could factor in for all
the traits that exist in this customer and get a binary answer. Yes or no. But then,
can anything be perfectly ideal? Can you factor in all the traits of the
situation and hence, don't have to make any assumptions at all? No. Right? You must make assumptions
and what do they say about assumptions being the mother of all fuck ups. Pardon
my French! If only there were objective answers to everything in life, you think. </div>
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Faced with this baffling dilemma,
you decide to go with your heart this one time and make the first step. This guy sees you coming towards him and abruptly cuts
your first sentence short by saying “<i>arey student hu yar! Credit card nahi milega.
Bahut try kiya hai</i>.” All that thinking for mother-fuckin nothing. Fuck French
and while we are at it fuck me! Bhenchod such is life! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">P.S. – By Last line you would
probably realize that I have moved to Delhi NCR :D . Working for a start up can be so
much fun. Sitting here in head office, I decide on parameters that sales executives of my company should employ to evaluate a pitch and try and tailor the pitch for different demographics. But everything is just so subjective. There can almost never be a right
answer.</span></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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I have started believing off late, and quite
strongly at that, that at times, there is just so little in our hands and we spend so much time perfecting that small portion of the jigsaw that we lose sense of the bigger
picture. E<span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">very now and then, we should afford to </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">give ourselves that time - to halt and to go back and make sense of the complete situation. At least I should start doing that.</span></div>
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Enough gyaan for the day. Spreadsheets can't wait longer. should get back.<o:p></o:p></div>
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P.P.S – Sales is a painful job! Yes,
This line deserves a separate P.S. for itself.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Mani Lalwanihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07507179660184880239noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653934080040270597.post-45469113766048187332019-02-06T01:29:00.000-08:002019-02-06T05:01:25.241-08:00Corporate Slavery<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Sitting cross-legged by his work desk on sixth floor, he looked outside the
window. He noticed the security guard outside the adjacent building and
wondered how monotonous his life must be. Opening the main door for the same
set of people every day, greeting them enthusiastically every day, knowing who
will respond to the greeting and who would just casually stroll ignoring his existence. He wondered how the
guard managed to go ahead with this whole charade! What was it that kept
him going through the motions?<o:p></o:p></div>
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Just then, he got interrupted by a notification on his laptop.
It was the meeting invite for daily evening status update with his manager. “<b>Slavery and Inertia</b>”
he realized for himself and chuckled while starting to make notes for the meeting.<o:p></o:p><br />
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P.S. - Documenting Life ! ISB done. Best year of my life so far and am back to before. Being a corporate whore. Slogging & Slacking is a way of life for last 9 months at company.<br />
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Song of the Day - Hooked to "In the name of Love - Martin Garrix & Bebe Rexha" for so long now. It's weird how my playlist has evolved so much over the last couple of years. But then, So have I.<br />
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Humor of the Day -<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYsvRCMkjCGWxU1Bm50ZFnxewaTBPy6s6-zrx5VQ3qD-MddjDrChnw9BbRdYQpJplyug9rj9-PJPj-X0FPuLtOPB8orfJNNTZdrmESDM7c7HNP5U1nxoTz5AzE2IIDDP6xjTJNf1DAyYB_/s1600/elect-a-clown-expect-a-circus-19661749.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="522" data-original-width="500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYsvRCMkjCGWxU1Bm50ZFnxewaTBPy6s6-zrx5VQ3qD-MddjDrChnw9BbRdYQpJplyug9rj9-PJPj-X0FPuLtOPB8orfJNNTZdrmESDM7c7HNP5U1nxoTz5AzE2IIDDP6xjTJNf1DAyYB_/s1600/elect-a-clown-expect-a-circus-19661749.png" /></a></div>
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Signing off!<br />
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Cheers,<br />
Manish</div>
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Mani Lalwanihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07507179660184880239noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653934080040270597.post-16451054242378659872016-12-27T10:42:00.000-08:002016-12-27T10:59:32.407-08:00And, I wonder...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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1. That is it only me who has a favorite urinal at office men's room and is pissed (pun intended) when it is occupied and I can't give it my love?</div>
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2. That why did I begin my post with such a personal revelation. No buildup at al. Huh ? Or, does everyone have a favorite urinal?</div>
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3. That why do I laugh bonkers every time someone mentions the marathi word "landook."</div>
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For the uninitiated, landook is marathi for Poop. Doesn't it sound like the noise when poop falls in the pot. Len..."DooK" !</div>
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4. That should I stop with all the "toilet humor" already or this post will go down the "drain" ?</div>
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5. That where should the question mark be in last sentence? before or after the apostrophe.</div>
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6. That how is it that the only Spanish I remember after watching 20 hours of narcos is a slang ? Puta De Madre fellows, Puta De Madre !</div>
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7. That How would it be to do a series of "chicken cross the road" jokes ?</div>
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<i>Q. Why did the chicken cross the road in Bangalore ? </i></div>
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<i>A. It just couldn't !</i></div>
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<i>Q. Why did the chicken cross the road in Kolkatta ? </i></div>
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<i>A. To demand "Poribortan"!</i></div>
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<i>Q. Why did the chicken cross the road in Delhi ? </i></div>
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<i>A. How dare you ask ? Tu jaanta hai chicken ka baap kon hai!</i></div>
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Lame as fuck , na ? I know. Anyways, I sometimes dream of a time when the chicken can cross the road without having his motives questioned. #world_peace</div>
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8. That what were the West Bengal administration smoking when they renamed it to Poschim Bonggo ? Doesn't "Poschim Bonggo" seem like a really cool euphemism for Anal Sex.</div>
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Baby, wanna go poschim bonggo, today ?</div>
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9. That why do I feel that If I am making this list I should have at least 15 points for it to look legitimate ?</div>
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10. That I can try to talk like a black homie.</div>
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"Yo! You want me to pay for that shit just becaz I am black, MAHn. You would let me FUCKin go, If I was a white MOTHERfucka !" <i>(and be pathetic at it)</i></div>
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11. That is this country going down in deep gravy and Modi's domentisation scheme is nothing but a big PR scheme? </div>
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Any publicity is good publicity MAHn!</div>
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12. That if there was a west bengal house in GOT, what would its sigil be?</div>
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Maybe, A Monkey cap with "Bring back Dada.. Ganguly for Coach" written below it.</div>
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13. That is this too much of Bengal love for a single post. No? But, on second thoughts can there ever be too much of Bengal love or toilet humor for that matter?</div>
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14. That how much insanely more fun US elections had been had George Carlin been still alive ? The absolute king of standup, political satire and dark comedy!</div>
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15. That should I breath a sigh of relief now that the count has reached 15 ?</div>
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17. That would someone notice that I am skipping a point after 15 to make this list look longer ?</div>
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18. That is Gupta ji ka double fried cheese cream veg. burger the absolute best or the absolute worse thing that has happened to humanity?</div>
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19. That how can it be so hard to leave Pune, the city of many Firsts. Should I be doing a separate post for this topic ?</div>
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20. That why do people not get the friends/Chandler reference when after cracking a poor joke, I say </div>
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"Hi I am Manish. I make jokes when I am uncomfortable !"</div>
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21. That How would it be to end this post at this totally uncool number of 21? Let's do it !</div>
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Questions, Questions ? Answers welcome. </div>
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Song of the day - Moh Moh ke dhaage, female version from the movie Dum laga ke haishaa.<br />
#Kewal ek iss gaane ke liye Anu maalik ke sare purane paap maaf, maaf, maaf...<br />
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Humor of the day -<br />
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Mani Lalwanihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07507179660184880239noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653934080040270597.post-65524235280818067242016-12-06T23:43:00.000-08:002016-12-09T01:35:30.497-08:00Moving On<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Surprise Mada fakas. I am back, I am hungry. (Sorry been watching 'Highway on my plate' reruns a bit too much, so the intro in their trademark style... Rocky and Mayur are awesome.)</div>
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Anyways, I opened my blog after ages today after some motivation from a friend to find this story sitting in my drafts. So, I am shamelessly going ahead with publishing this one.</div>
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Now, this draft is at least 4 years old. So, it's a lot mushier and touchy-feely than I would wish for had I been writing something todayBut then, It only makes sense to restart with something that I had in my mind for my blog originally when I started it. Enjoy.</div>
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As my car sped along, the landscape turned monochrome and I began to reminiscence of the times when the drives used to be enjoyable, when at every opportunity I would plan to kick-start another expedition and trying to convince her for joining in. She never said no, but didn't like to put forward a straight yes and did her tantrums before agreeing for the drive and we went on and on around the Bhopal roads with no destination in Mind. She has been my favorite pillion. She will always be.</div>
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# I miss her.</div>
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I broke up with her abut a month back and the first thing that I did was to block her from facebook. I still sometimes type in her name just after I login @ facebook to check any new updates from her side and when the realization dawns, it's not a very good feeling. I am just not able to get over her. Guess this has been a lot tougher than I had imagined.</div>
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# I miss her.</div>
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I know I have to stop being a baby. I am like 22! I have to grin and deal with it. I crib about her all the time but then it's tough on me. I guess I loved in two dimensions which is lot worse than love in three dimensions because the missing dimension was reality.</div>
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# I miss her.</div>
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I shall call her tonight. I shall confront her on what went wrong, what possibly didn't work out. If we could try it one more time or at least be the best of friends we have been. I miss her voice so much. That freak yet subtle voice.</div>
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# I miss her.</div>
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And Umang closed his diary at this point exactly as he had to get ready. He had to attend his school's reunion party tonight. He didn't want to go. He wanted to spend the evening knowing his newly made friend 'Solitude' a bit more. </div>
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He met Namrata at the party. They used to go out in the High school days.</div>
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# He didn't miss her after that.</div>
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p.s. - The girl whom I had pictured when I mentioned Namrata in the above post got married a couple of months ago. Major Heartbreak happening.</div>
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p.s. 2 - Life's good except for Namrata part. Got selected for an MBA program at ISB Hyderabad, Mohali campus. Will be leaving Pune soon. 4 years here. so many memories. Might do a post on GMAT and how to get through to ISB. Not decided yet. </div>
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Song of the day - Laung Gawancha by Neha Bhasin. If you haven't heard it please do it right now. Rest all can wait. The girl carries whole song by herself. No hip hop, rap or funny shit. Just pure bliss maintaining the spirit of the original song.</div>
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Humor of the day - </div>
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Peace. Cya!</div>
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Me.</div>
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Mani Lalwanihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07507179660184880239noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653934080040270597.post-65690899819299050922015-02-13T06:42:00.000-08:002015-02-13T06:47:22.429-08:00Oh, the irony !<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Between the time I spent working on my excel sheets and trying to socialize with people, I thought of her.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I thought of the times
when come every Friday she would visit me. I would pick her up from the bus
stop. We would have a delightful roadside snack and then go home and not do a
thing. I thought of the silly Saturdays and mundane Sundays.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Today is the day, our
birthday. I ought to think of her, of me, of us. And, as I think I wish I had
more memories rather than the uneventful weekends. I wish I had went with her on that malshej trip or followed her and her friends to Goa.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I wish I had skipped
office and went out with her, somewhere anywhere doesn't matter. I wish we had
rolled up a joint and went carefree like the good old days.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I wish that I had
acted on these wishes rather than just wishing viciously. But then that's a
<a href="http://blogs.office.com/2012/02/17/circular-reference-excels-most-popular-error-message-explained/" target="_blank"><i>circular reference error</i></a>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">That reminds me I
gotta get back to my excel sheet. Typing my feelings can probably wait. Bbye! Cya!</span></div>
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Mani Lalwanihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07507179660184880239noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653934080040270597.post-1550157397487296872011-12-13T13:28:00.000-08:002011-12-13T13:31:32.122-08:007 Status Updates<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
I have accepted the fact that I am not someone who could blog say once a week or even once a month, I am someone who would show up when least expected just like a new tab pops up once a while saying "You have one (1) new friend request, Neha has 2 friends in common. Want to meet her?" while you are hooked up with live cricket streaming.<br />
Well, I am not trying to compare myself with the beautiful Indian girl in the tab, I accept I am an ugly duck but we both can be a pain in the ass. You land up at some shit porn site if you click on accept (or reject either! , yours truly pulled the stunt ;) ) the friend request and I write shit anyway. :D<br />
<br />
I got this idea of expressing a story via a few status updates while updating my Facebook status a few days back, and here is my pathetic attempt.... :P<br />
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___________________________________________________________________________<br />
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<br />
<br />
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Main platform 7 pe khada tha, aur woh 6 par khadi thi ...<br />
donoo ki nazron Se nazar milii, aur achanak train bich main aake platform par ruki....<br />
Jab train platfrm se gyi tab meri Nazaren use dhundti reh gyi....<br />
kaash woh roz 5:50 ki local pakde aur meri local roz late ho ! ♥<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Posted on 1st of December at 19:48</span><br />
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<br />
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And she is interning with the same firm, Godrej and boyce,<br />
I can see her right now, talking to some guy and laughing! Isn’t she beautiful?<br />
God I am dying Now-u, she is happy how-u! ;)<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Posted on 3rd of December at 11:04</span><br />
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When before would someone have given his friends 'finding The girl' party.<br />
And now that the booze session has started, rajo ko mehfil toh jamaani hi thi !<br />
"Pine pilane ke sab hai bahane; kahe ki mohabbat, kahe ke fassane"<br />
crazy mates... \m/<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Posted on 3rd of December at 23:47</span><br />
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Technically, I didn't 'ask her out' or get myself a 'date' (I have always been a chicken),<br />
But we will be having lunch together tomorrow after of course sum exhausting 'survey the aunties about their choices' session assigned to us by the HR manager !<br />
Yes, of all the 40 interns, we both are a team ! Destined to meet !<br />
looking forward to tomorrow like never before :)<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Posted on 4th of December at 19:06</span><br />
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<div><br />
</div><div>Life is a bitch, when the only girl you think of belongs to someone else !</div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Posted on 5th of December at 19:21</span><br />
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Har baar muqaddar ko dosh dena thik nahi,<br />
kabhi kabhi hum bhi hadh se jyada maang lete hai ! :(<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Posted on 5th of December at 19:24</span><br />
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I was going through my recent status updates in the vella time today and realised that ;<br />
"If you want a happy ending, it depends on where you stop the story. :)"<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Posted on 11th of December at 16:49</span><br />
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</div><div>___________________________________________________________________________<br />
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</div><div>So, How was it? Lemme know!</div></div><div><br />
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</div><div>p.s. - I have shamelessly picked up some of the status from a few friends (Ashi, CC and Sexy) and tried making a story out of it. :p If you people expect to get sum credit toh 3 idiots ki bina proper credit diye churayi hui kahani ki kasam raju hirani bhi kahega ........ (aage samaj jaaye) ;)</div><div><br />
</div><div>p.s. 2 - Thank you <a href="http://live2cherish.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Live2cherish</a> for reminding me to update but I am an ass when It comes to being punctual!</div><div><br />
</div><div>cya!</div><div>Me</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div>Humor of the day - Hope in a difficult situation is like a sexy girl in a Horror movie...</div><div>Always the first one to die :P</div><div><br />
</div><div>Song of the day - No prizes for guessing .... why this kolaveri kolaveri kolaveri di ?</div><div>i love the simplicity and the innocence put into the song.</div><div>and ya, the chick is smoking ;)</div><div><br />
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</div></div>Mani Lalwanihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07507179660184880239noreply@blogger.com8Bhopal, Madhya Pradesh, India23.2599333 77.4126149999999623.1646158 77.284316999999959 23.3552508 77.540912999999961tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653934080040270597.post-85287679308501444762011-06-15T03:27:00.000-07:002011-06-17T02:57:55.127-07:00Their Story....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><b>His side of the Story ;</b><br />
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I remember seeing her first <i>(noticing would be the right word, I guess)</i> at ICH <i>(SPICE Manit then)</i>. She was with her friends & luckily I knew one of those girls and call it sheer luck, It was her birthday! Wasn't the lady luck smiling on me? Didn't even destiny want me to start talking to “The girl.” I went to their table, wished the birthday girl & soon got lost in “The Girl’s smile.” There was something so surreal about her and especially her smile. Words fail me to describe the way I felt! There was something so common yet so unique about her.<br />
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Anyways I left after a minute and life moved on. Has MANIT waited for anyone? Saga has it, you are an alumnus of this college until you realize how dearly you are in love with it. But I fell in love with my college in the very first year for it made me meet “The girl.” Long before I could try talking to her in person semester vacations happened and proved to be a blessing in disguise. I added her at FB and we started chit-chatting and during one of the conversations I asked her out for a coffee. <i>(Please don’t misjudge me with the desperato Social networking addict, who tries his luck with every second girl at FB.)</i><br />
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I went out with her and a friend of her <i>(ya, kabab main haddi, typical “my friend is the best. How dare you thought she would date a cheapo like u?” types )</i>. Though I have always believed that two is company and three is crowd but we had a nice time and I was bounding with “The Girl.” Next day I went out with her again on the excuse of making some random arrangements for some not so famous program at the college and this time it was only her and me. Needless to say those couple of hours form some of the loveliest memories of my life but I was worried, I was troubled. Something inside me kept bugging me all the time as to how could an average guy like me be with such a perfect lady and if it was true that we were out, how do I prove myself to be deserving & this is when I started to lie. I started showing a goody-goody image of mine. I told her that I had always been submissive in my life, never dominated, not at all stubborn, born with the silver spoon and what not? But this was all what I thought she wanted to hear and not what she expected from me. May be this is when She started considering me just another guy.<br />
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Anyways the evening ended soon before I wanted it to end and before I could have thought about what I said to her. After that don’t know what happened, she stopped seeing me, we stopped being the good friends, the era of messages ended, she seldom replied and I guess It all ended. All I can do now is to console myself thinking that Life is not always sweet. Sometimes all you get is a single chance to make it count, yet all said and done I miss her smile, I miss being with her, I miss the way she was.<br />
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<b>Her side of the story ;</b><br />
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I added a random guy during the second semester vacations of MANIT. Had i heard his name before? No! But we had 50 mutual friends. I saw his photo. Ya, I had seen this guy. Maybe he belonged to my batch. He later told me that we had been formally introduced during some birthday party, I hardly remembered.<br />
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He started with formal chit-chat at FB and he wasn’t bad. Though a typical flirt, but I still liked the way he talked, the way he admired me. 13 odd times he asked me out for coffee. 13 times I ignored. He kept asking me every day but strange enough I didn't find it awkward or bad rather I liked his regular persuasion. He made me feel important. And, finally the 14th time I said yes. Not that I really wanted to be out with him but I was bored of ignoring him.<br />
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We went out, with a friend of mine. I don’t remember much but the evening was just fine. I first time thought about this guy, there was something very common yet a bit unique about this guy. Next day he again asked me out and I accompanied him to a restaurant. That day came as a shocker. He told me how he had been a mediocre, submissive and mother’s boy all his life. Come on, who submits to everything like that? Who doesn't fight for what he deserves? Who has never faced challenges? I have traveled around the city in local’s uber no of times and here is a guy who has never seen a public transport. Is this going to work out? I didn't think so and It all started to drift apart. Not that I didn't want to give it a try, I genuinely admired the admiration he had for me in his eyes but if only he had been a little more stubborn, a little rebel, a little against the wind things could have been different. I stopped replying to his texts for I was angry over his submissiveness and this was my way of showing it. Maybe he didn't get it, and stopped texting totally. Maybe he left it to destiny like all the times, but I wanted him to try. He didn't! I never thought I would say this but I miss his constant admiration, I miss him being around me and I miss the way he was.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilfQHAlNF21lvihApAzl93gmbVWw8uESpfotg29A3tjdqy_sOloFjVwvM15LdIwYVJaXyed9nWb__RcQwZkPndJPjf71ryA7Ro76vVby6uACZdRAFFqSmClH6FWMkFnS1ShaNdTCFX2YIt/s1600/Heart_Broken_by_truth__hurts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilfQHAlNF21lvihApAzl93gmbVWw8uESpfotg29A3tjdqy_sOloFjVwvM15LdIwYVJaXyed9nWb__RcQwZkPndJPjf71ryA7Ro76vVby6uACZdRAFFqSmClH6FWMkFnS1ShaNdTCFX2YIt/s320/Heart_Broken_by_truth__hurts.jpg" width="216" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">image courtesy - amirables.blogspot.com</td></tr>
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p.s. – before you ask me about the names, I would like to provide this kind information that this post is entirely a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely co-incidental :p<br />
<div><br />
</div>p.s. 1 - It has been really long since I have blogged, but this time I ain't gonna promise to be more regular, as I hardly keep them :D<br />
<br />
p.s. 2 - have not been talking to my bestie for like a week now, am experiencing a huge lack of clarity,crossed with a ton of WT F's, followed by uncertainty and anxiety in life buddie.. :(<br />
hope she reads this and calls.<br />
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p.s. 3 - mujhe kya aur koi kaam nahi hai, jo p.s's hi likhta rahunga.. cya :)<br />
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<i>song of the day - Jaa Chudail , Delhi Belly :))</i><br />
<i>Thumbs up for the Sitar Flares</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>humor of the day -</i><br />
<i>"NDTV: Victim: 'Sharad Pawar Touched My Breasts'</i><br />
<i>Think yourself lucky - he fucked the rest of the country."</i><br />
<i><br />
</i></div>Mani Lalwanihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07507179660184880239noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653934080040270597.post-72288368324179001472011-04-16T02:05:00.000-07:002016-02-07T08:48:02.039-08:00The semester that went by.....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Another incredible semester in MANIT is on the verge of getting over and what a roller coaster ride it has been till now. This is the semester that saw it all, depths of despair as well as heights of happiness, be it organising the Mega event Virasat <i>(who am I kidding?)</i> successfully or mindless abuses right outside admin after joints session on the Maffick pronight!</div>
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On a personal front I would dedicate this semester to the new linkups. Met some new like minded <i>(ya khaali dimaag shaitan ka ghar types)</i> people and I cherish the firendship bond we share. I also developed a huge crush on a batchmate this sem, somehow started talking to her <i>(ya all the Jugaad and fielding jamaana wali cheezain but fnally nothing else than FB worked! Hail Zuckerberg!)</i> and gradually realized that there was nothing so exceptional in her except her smile. Agreed that smile still gives me goosebumps. Crushes have always been dificult to sustain for me they say :D</div>
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I single handadly <i>(sum credit to my belt and 10 no. chappals :p)</i> made it sure that birthdays were never more painful and stinking for friends. Also, I didnot compensate with my Dassna skills. My oriental dassna reached a peak point at Fb! </div>
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While some mates faced a bitter heartbreak <i>(my sincere sympathies and time to enjoy the khulla sand period folks)</i> some people stuck a bell in each other's heart But the highlight of this semester would be hooking up of Mr. Jerk and Miss Pervert. The Boy who showed his likingness to almost 80% of the cows/girls of FGH <i>(cows for him, girls for me :p)</i>, finally got accepted by Miss desperate to fall in love. <i>(in case you still cannot recognise the couple, message me at fb, not that I will tell you the names, I will have my share of laugh fucker, for your aweful idea of ur batch mates)</i></div>
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This semester also saw the aweful maffick pronights which I literally regret seeing! Be it the Kavi samelann or Jal Band night! The only thing worth mentioning abt techno maffick was chanting "Kashmir hamara hai" naare during the Jal band night. It was spontaneous and something worth relishing!</div>
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Not to forget the batch! I am in love with the feeling to be in TTN. Blood, bargad, Pride!!</div>
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Cheers to the yet another semester that went by leaving behing its share of bitter and sweet memories but looking behind I thank God <i>(if it exists!)</i>. "Thank God! This semester happeped."</div>
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p.s. - Have been inactive at blogger for so long now that making excuses would also not help, But now with exams round the corner (starting this 20th) I ought to be more regular ;)</div>
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<i>song of the day - Taylor swift, you are the best thing ever been mine (this song is here for someone special) ;)</i></div>
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<i>humor of the day - <span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;">You know you're an ugly fuck when you're the one asked to take the photo. :P</span> </i></div>
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/%3Ciframe%20style=%22width:120px;height:240px;%22%20marginwidth=%220%22%20marginheight=%220%22%20scrolling=%22no%22%20frameborder=%220%22%20src=%22//ws-in.amazon-adsystem.com/widgets/q?ServiceVersion=20070822&OneJS=1&Operation=GetAdHtml&MarketPlace=IN&source=ac&ref=qf_sp_asin_til&ad_type=product_link&tracking_id=httpdevillish-21&marketplace=amazon&region=IN&placement=B00VBHQU78&asins=B00VBHQU78&linkId=&show_border=true&link_opens_in_new_window=true%22%3E%20%3C/iframe%3E" target="_blank">test link -</a><br />
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Mani Lalwanihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07507179660184880239noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653934080040270597.post-11749043857709899732011-03-07T05:06:00.001-08:002012-06-03T00:32:43.033-07:00I'll be there..!!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">When the routes look so tortuous,<br />
when the destiny starts flouting,<br />
when you stand there all alone,<br />
weeping,whining and shouting..<br />
Remember, I'll be there..!!<br />
<br />
When the heat gets on top,<br />
you look for some shade,<br />
the hands won't raise,<br />
and you still walk the blade,<br />
Looking for some shelter,<br />
if the roofs seem bare,<br />
Remember, I'll be there..!!<br />
<br />
When the chide surrounds you,<br />
and the purple patches are long gone,<br />
the hard times arrive crawling,<br />
the joys torn and blown,<br />
Turn around and see,<br />
if nobody appears to care,<br />
Remember, I'll be there..!!<br />
<br />
When you look for some water,<br />
and the throat wrecks so dry,<br />
life would seem a desert,<br />
in solitude will you cry,<br />
Entering such a mire,<br />
where nobody seems to dare,<br />
Remember, I'll be there..!!<br />
<br />
Love those whom you like,<br />
Have them all your life,<br />
still if they go away so far,<br />
don't sink yourself below the par,<br />
Broken and Enfeebled,<br />
if you still look for a pair,<br />
Remember, I'll be there..!!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">p.s. - Get well soon re shivansh bhai !! jaldi theek ho re... </span></div>Mani Lalwanihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07507179660184880239noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653934080040270597.post-33354834292903658242011-02-18T13:28:00.000-08:002011-02-18T19:48:27.210-08:00LSD (Lovers day,SMSes And Drama)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">It was 11:55 PM, 13th February , 5 minutes before the big day; Valentine's day & I had a very important question in my mind.<br />
No! No! It wasn't anything remotely related to love. I am never bothered about not having anyone to celebrate valentine's day with. I am used to the monotone. It has been the case from the day I took birth. The reason was however very common and scaring the daylights of every youth.<br />
Deeply engrossed in my thoughts, I got this chat message at FB which said...<br />
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N - oye, Kal messaging free hai kya ?<br />
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M - Fuck! That was exactly what is making me crazy since evening! I don't know!<br />
<i>(after a long pause)</i> Common!! I mean I swear am not gonna wish anybody happy valentines. practically I have no one whom I should but lemme do my regular chit chat.<br />
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N - <i>(takes out sum time to reply to this poor chap) </i>yaaa re! You gotta admit 60 Paisa is way too much if I wanna inquire my friend about coming to college tomorrow.<br />
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And then came the Dooms day, what I never wanted to happen, it was midnight.I sent a test message to a friend asking her if she had any plans worth mentioning. Boom came a service message that read "You have been charged Rs. 0.01 for the last transaction" & I was happy, very happy, very very happy. My happiness knew no bounds. I started considering reliance people as God sent Angels. Hail Anil <i>(or is it Mukesh?)</i> Dhiru Bhai Ambani for not making lovers day another dry day for all the sms chit chatters. I admit am addicted to smses. Little did I knew Reliance was into pulling a totally different trick this time.<br />
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I kept messaging till late night, with every message I thanked God for giving me the wisdom to choose Reliance. Later had a beer and slept like a log <i>(common, what else do u expect of a single guy on valentines?)</i><br />
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Dawn, woke up to pee <i>(wasn't that obvious?)</i>, checked messages, 3 unread, replied to one and then slept again. Finally I was up in the afternoon, The first thing that caught my attention was my cell flashing "Message sending Failed." tried resending the message 'n' times where 'n' tends to infinity plus 2 but couldn't succeed. I didn't hate Reliance. "Reliance must not be the only network that would be facing Network congestion" I thought and abused the lovers desperately trying to wish their better halves <i>(or fourths , eights excreta excreta (:p) ... you get the general idea right?).</i><br />
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Then out of nowhere in the evening, I checked my balance and here was a shocker. It proudly read "your account balance is Rs. 0.02 ad valid till blah blah" Apparently Reliance had cheater-coped all the other networks and charged for all the SMSes I sent yesterday night. All the praises for reliance suddenly turned into curses. Please die Anil Dhirubhai <i>(Let, Anil take the blame. He was the one I decide to praise earlier!)</i> May your soul dwell in hell.<br />
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Not only I couldn't message anybody, neither could I make calls. Every time I tried so "connection error" winked and blinked on my mobile screen. I kept misjudging the situation to be network congestion till evening and then I was too lazy to get a refill voucher.<br />
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Thus, ended the valentines saga without any calls or text conversations and now, when I think about it I don't feel as bad as at that moment of time.<br />
I could concentrate on reading a novel that day, without getting interrupted by some random friend's "hellozzzz!" which always tend to get drifted to long and thumb-paining chat conversations. Also, It gave me the much needed lone quality time to think what I was striving for.<br />
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Hail Reliance!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjv5VK_uqjxa4T-HBRF7R0XQskswvbkon0VvNfFu54MKI0cGf9KQdMGFRycCrlrM4cZAlSuKMWq3FSRYJKtwP9upqiUj4y-Y4QUiJgHtFMdESq79CfoEVpnqEkEqXjmilVFbkIP_hAhp8Q/s1600/cell+phone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="361" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjv5VK_uqjxa4T-HBRF7R0XQskswvbkon0VvNfFu54MKI0cGf9KQdMGFRycCrlrM4cZAlSuKMWq3FSRYJKtwP9upqiUj4y-Y4QUiJgHtFMdESq79CfoEVpnqEkEqXjmilVFbkIP_hAhp8Q/s400/cell+phone.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">pic courtesy - internet</td></tr>
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p.s. - Thanks for the read people! I so badly want to blog more often but laziness always gets better of me. :(<br />
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p.s. 2 - How was your valentines ? do lemme know....<br />
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<i>song of the day - Splits villa 4, Theme song, Aahatain ho rahi hai!</i><br />
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<i>humor of the day - when asked about the definition of the subject in the introductory class of materials sciences, i bluntly replied that Its the biology of non-living things. (True Story! Yours truly survived the stunt) :p</i><br />
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Love! :)</div>Mani Lalwanihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07507179660184880239noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653934080040270597.post-14576608177853405582011-02-03T21:41:00.000-08:002011-02-03T21:50:53.694-08:00The Enigma!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Pre Script - Guest story by Brother Ashish!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><br />
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</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">“Hence we come to the conclusion that the Yagi uda Array can be used both as a Director as well as a Reflector”.Gosh, those concluding lines are so soothing when one attends the ever-lasting lectures. So, that was where the “Antenna” Lecture Ended. Those College lectures were never meant to be understood.”SOME ENIGMAS BETTER REMAIN UNFOLDED” was the thought that clinked my mind. Going college was a fun especially when u know that u ain’t gonna last even 2 lectures. So this ended my day at college<i> (It wasn’t evening, My College Day usually ended at 11 in morning).</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Quickly Ruffled up my attire and spiked my hair back to the proper Vertical position with some water (<i>Spike Hair always tend to obey the Newton’s Gravity. Damn..!!)</i>.All set, here I leave college for my date at Café Coffee Day <i>(yes it was only 11:30 am)</i>.The minutes of meeting <i>(MoM)</i> discussion of the Date is out of question anyway.So then , She went back to somewhere <i>(I never cared where..!!)</i> and I flew on my bike for home.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Daytime, the Weather was getting pretty and moreover, the Date had been awesome as well. So with all the butterflies running my stomach and with all the Blues, I Rode. The Perfect Picture in my mind got a break when my eyes stuck to an aged, tattered and poor-looking man standing beside the road, asking people for Lift. I never cared for anybody asking for help, but that day, had to be different. He looked an Emaciated gnome like fellow struggling for something. Something just struck my mind and I stopped for him.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">“Where ?”,I asked.”Near Suditi Hospital son, It’s my home there”, he said in an almost whispering and trembling voice. He looked too weak to speak something audible.”I’m going the same way, let me Drop you there”, I Replied. Quickly, he pounced on the bike as if I was not serious enough to help him. So my Single 15km Journey to Home was now accompanied by someone whom I never knew and Perhaps, I would never know. I drove as usual, quick yet Controlled, and the bizarre journey continued.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Out of compassion <i>(the little bit I could gather at that moment)</i>, I asked, “Where are you coming from? So far from your place “ .He started in his diatonic shaky voice “My name is Narayan singh. what to say <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">beta, </i>I’m Ripped apart..blah blah and more blah “.But Suddenly it caught my attention when he further Added “My Son has been a prey of Black Magic. 3 Months ago, On Diwali night, somebody kept the Evils at the hailway of our house and..”.I Interrupted out of Curiosity “What evil things are you talking about ?”.Almost weeping, He uttered, ”a Doll with a needle piercing its debris, with name Rakesh<i>(his son)</i> written on its forehead along with a Reddish mysterious lemon. My son Rakesh took those anonymous belongings and threw them out. Slowly the things got worse, He Started feeling uncomfortable within himself, He Dreamt of Evils and his soul was forced to obey them. He used to yell at times, asking for penance from the spirits, and the rest of the day, his mind remained like that of a comatose. So for the Remedy, I go every Tuesday to a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">baba</i>, Who is known to have magical powers. He claims to convalesce my Son within four weeks.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">I could frame an interesting tale in my head until it was made a little more pathos-demanding by Narayan. He further added to his miseries and said ,”for the past 3 months, there’s nobody to earn, Rakesh<i>(his son)</i> has lost job, I get a meager Rs 2000 as pension which is insufficient for the household expenses. So money for my commutation for such purposes is out of question."Fair enough", I said and nodded my head. I could Imagine the quandaries he would be in, but what could I do, besides blaming his fate. He refurbished my framed scenarios with another heart-melting hardship by saying.”Today is munni’s birthday, my 5 year Old Granddaughter. She just loves chocolates. whenever I used to reach home, she used to tap my pockets first, looking for her chocolates. But now, even she hesitates to do that. She knows what has happened these days to our family”. Completely engrossed in his story, I was keen to come up with suggestions and references for help, but his destination had come by then. I stopped at Suditi Hospital to bid him adieu. He happily pounced off the bike saying ,”Thank you son, you are a great human being, remember,” SOME ENIGMAS BETTER REMAIN UNFOLDED”.A strange thought, that had appeared my mind before. I told him if I could help him in anyway <i>( I was feeling mighty and fortunate that time)</i>.A little sigh of relief on his face indicated that some financial aid was most welcome.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">That day, All I had was Rs. 500, out of which 250 was already spent for the morning coffee at café coffee day. But , Somehow the better and sympathetic side of me was the protagonist at that moment. I thought a Rs 100 note atleast would bring munni her favorite chocolates. So I headed for home after those couple of transactions <i>(debits, u can say)</i>.After I reached home, the story was still quite audible to me, the Scenes were visible,the characters were kinetic and my mind, as usual, restless. Although I never saw munni , Rakesh and family, but human mind is fertile enough to frame those. After sleeping in the day time, I sat with newspaper and tea. I never knew the Page-5 of the newspaper would bring me Goosebumps.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">It wasn’t any mishap or politician-related news that dried my throat. It was an Obituary, stating the second death anniversary of an Old man. My heart skipped a beat when my eyes went at that face. Yes, It was of Narayan Singh, Address- H No 45, near Suditi Hospital, Bhopal, Son-Rakesh Singh and other details. I was frightened enough that my Mind went completely blank for the time unknown. The man I helped today noon, the man whose Story captivated me all along my ride to home, How can he die 2 years ago???.My mom asked what the matter was. I could hardly utter anything that moment, but told her about the Macabre. She calmly said it wasn’t possible and he might be some other man, the world isn’t short anyway.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">But It wasn’t that easy either. I Read the Address, Name, Son’s name again and again. The more I read, the more I was feeling the death. I, then, decided to go to his place to get answers to all this horrible dream <i>( I wished it was a Dream)</i>.I headed Straight and quick to Suditi Hospital, enquired where House No 45 was. And there I was, standing at the Porch of the Haunting House no 45. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Inside was a small, irregular, not well furnished Room, but decorated with flowers and Balloons at that time. A cute little girl stood there, in new frock and chocolates in hands,some chocolates falling on floor from her small fists. I figured out she would be the little Munni. Other people standing there were Munni’s mother in a filthy light shaded <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">saaree</i> and properly locked hair, an Old lady, who appeared to be Narayan’s wife and a Man with stubble and dirty hair, sitting on a chair, almost dead, He would be Rakesh I thought. But where was Narayan ?, Was he alive ? or Dead ?. I needed the answers. Hesitatingly, I entered the hall and asked,” Is Narayan there?”.All the three people stared at me, making me feel so Uncomfortable and Unwelcomed. I Repeated my words, but was paused when the Old lady spoke,” Who are you?, How do you know Narayan?”.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">I said, “I helped Narayan today while he was arriving from New market to Home”. Munni was engrossed in her chocolates. Her Mother never bothered to speak, but She started looking at her mother in law’s face, for her Reaction. The old lady first said It was a Joke, because Narayan had passed away 2 years ago and Some Other Guy would have be fooled me. Pointed at But I Narayan’s photo and said that yes, I have Carried this man for 15 kms and I know all of you people. I know today is munni’s Birthday. I know your son is under the evils. And you say this is a joke..??”. She Stood Silent, Puzzled and Petrified when she heard my words. Even they didn’t have any Answer to my Questions.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Gosh,where should I Go??. Where do I find out the answers to the unanswered questions ?.The more they remained murky, the more scared I felt. I stared at munni’s Chocolates, Munni tended to hide those from me, thinking that I would eat all of those. Almost leaving from their place, I Asked,” Who bought munni the chocolates? “.Her Mother said,” Munni found a 100 Rs note at the Porch in evening, and since It’s her birthday today, so we decided to get her a few chocolates”.”Her favorite”, I added.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Enfeebled, scared and Muddled, I went back home .My legs were shaking in that profound despair. Narayan was flashing in my mind right throughout the moment I saw him in the newspaper. all I could figure out was the thought,” SOME ENIGMAS BETTER REMAIN UNFOLDED”..!!!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><br />
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</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US">Post script - A demanding New semester, Not able to write! Ashi Bhai Comes to the rescue... Thanks brother! :)</span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US">Post script 1 - havent read any blogs for abt a fortnight now! Sorry fellow bloggers. Laziness gettting the better of me these days. will be back soon. I shapat :p</span></div></div>Mani Lalwanihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07507179660184880239noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653934080040270597.post-22508540426378184992011-01-10T10:45:00.000-08:002011-01-10T12:33:37.302-08:00Engineering; Euphoria personified....<div class="post-body entry-content" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.4; width: 530px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtMsMK4y8HSO6DIsilZpW7pKmhzZoV8GY4QlPWUcXSQrzqdD_VCsXsKFcIH1CmLVuEBba7pisA14aYPJV8GKRXUU-Yn3iazlDNQQ3YRkzeE_7q6XebLxIbYPLZS6lXbpt5h2o6KCiwRlMP/s1600/41173_430563074309_752929309_4660085_2006578_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="color: #3d74a5; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration: none;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtMsMK4y8HSO6DIsilZpW7pKmhzZoV8GY4QlPWUcXSQrzqdD_VCsXsKFcIH1CmLVuEBba7pisA14aYPJV8GKRXUU-Yn3iazlDNQQ3YRkzeE_7q6XebLxIbYPLZS6lXbpt5h2o6KCiwRlMP/s400/41173_430563074309_752929309_4660085_2006578_n.jpg" style="border-bottom-style: none; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none; border-width: initial; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px; position: relative;" width="400" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"> Mechanical and Production Engineering block @ NIT-B</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"> (Pic courtesy - Face Book! can't recall the person )</span><br />
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Scene 1 -<br />
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Today the first day of a new semester, dooms day for many but considering my GPA <i>(silly 7 point something)</i> last term I was all motivated to go to the college and I made it at 9:55 A.M. sharp <i>(45 minutes late but Common! Thats still an achievement for a lazy ass like me.)</i> met a friend as tardy as me and we rushed towards the DOPE <i>(Department of Production Engineering , cool Acronym na!)</i> notice board to look at the schedule and subject coordinators. To our amusement, we had a subject with the name Electrical and Electronic devices blah blah... whatever? who cares anyway?<br />
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"EAED.. err.. that sounds so weird" My friend said.<br />
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He have always had this awe-wait for it-some addiction of substituting subjects names by its initials <i>(KOM,MOM,SOM,BMC <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">(no I ain't abusing! It stood for basic materials classes)</span>, MPro etcetera etcetera...)</i>.<br />
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"We will call it BEE then" Yours truely suggested.<br />
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"But we have already studied BEE last year plus this shit isin't elementary anymore"<br />
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"Okay! We will call it fucking Advanced BEE! Period" and a roar of a known long forgotten laughter filled our mech department marking the beginning of much awaited Bakar sessions! :)<br />
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Scene 2 -</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
My sister visited home in the evening. So,sis and maa started with the customary family talks in my room. <i>(why do they have to opt for my room killing my privacy)</i> "Shweta Tiwari was looking so cool in that banarasi sari in the Big Boss finale!" and it naturally went on and on !</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Predicting no chances of the affectionate words stopping in the near future I interrupted them both "Can you Please, continue with your elated talks in some other room. I wanna study!" Mom gave me a slightest of smile and that smile said it all. It was much more mighty than words can ever be.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">My Sis, being the cute dumbo she is dissipated its meaning for me, "Make some valid excuses bhai!" She blurted and we three burst into laughter.</div><div><br />
</div><br />
It is moments like these that make me fall in love with the day I decided to choose being an engineer!<br />
<br />
<br />
p.s. - Maybe this post lacks the humor quotient but I am just ecstatic that the Happy days are back again! and can't help showing it.<br />
<br />
p.s.1 - Thanks <a href="http://you-me-and-serendipity.blogspot.com/" style="color: #3d74a5; text-decoration: none;">Aki</a> for suggesting the name of the post! :)<br />
<br />
p.s. 2 - still reading ? :p<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>song of the day - <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kblEEfoWpAM" style="color: #3d74a5; text-decoration: none;">Emptiness.. Tune Meri jaana</a>! You got to listen this song! At least once!</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>Humor of the day - </i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5j728qNueY_H-KcV82W8b4t9uo8M915a6OpxypBhmGPMX9ufvKc6InosjmranwSJ6xofyO0uibI4KnXvBK11QHZfzn8Y2_E191LdyWu86_8TUgMUQqs3Y2boW1sthBXfphwojMw0IFgoY/s1600/humor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="color: #3d74a5; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration: none;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5j728qNueY_H-KcV82W8b4t9uo8M915a6OpxypBhmGPMX9ufvKc6InosjmranwSJ6xofyO0uibI4KnXvBK11QHZfzn8Y2_E191LdyWu86_8TUgMUQqs3Y2boW1sthBXfphwojMw0IFgoY/s640/humor.jpg" style="border-bottom-style: none; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none; border-width: initial; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px; position: relative;" width="456" /></a></div><br />
Signing off!<br />
-Mani</div>Mani Lalwanihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07507179660184880239noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653934080040270597.post-65042706159698701452011-01-08T03:29:00.000-08:002011-01-10T06:23:30.748-08:00ISTE Sucks Totally Everytime !Disclaimer - Needs to be taken in a light tone, No Personal Grudges! May Peace prevail :)<br />
<br />
Backdrop - ISTE is one of the societies at NIT-B and its fucked up like all the others.<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">I</span>STE <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">S</span>ucks <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">T</span>otally <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">E</span>verytime !<br />
<br />
That day I happened to come across a friend from ISTE<i> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(errrrr do they qualify to be called as friends even....)</span></i><br />
<br />
ME... so, what is ISTE shit all about ?<br />
<br />
He... Well, ISTE is a national level society....<i> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(5 seconds of awkward silence, I was hoping for more to come from the nerd. Well nothing of that sort happened )</span></i><br />
<br />
Me... What do u people do ?<br />
<br />
He... We meet !!! Discuss agendas !!! We r forced to take the crap Seniors give us and then we disperse, only to meet the next day !!! These meetings have been going on and on and on for the last year and half I joined ! !<br />
anyways I gotta reach for a meeting at CC OAT... I don't wanna be subjected to those cold looks from the Presi 4 reaching late and interrupting him as if he was delivering his noble prize speech.<br />
cya ! !<br />
<br />
<br />
I was speechless!<br />
He had left nothing for me to decipher.<br />
<br />
<br />
p.s. - if u think am biased,<br />
Fuck u, u r either a ISTE Gissu or an Ignorant first yearite.... :P<br />
<br />
p.p.s - About Spic Macay, We people are perfect <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(yup! In that fucked up way)</span></i> ;)<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>Song of the day - HYPNOTIZE, System of a Down!</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>humor of the day -</i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Bhe5iowY4kzSW9flSWEOdrmi2FAWtDxht7GVfLup0Hw3XdoXWa-c-PRvJ3KOvEwjzn4deNqLKxwDYgSgr_6-riSKepoE5pv9H_Rd5XA04u3yt0I7uB6CdjcoYdYfzyvcq5EW_tTBszVT/s1600/dick.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Bhe5iowY4kzSW9flSWEOdrmi2FAWtDxht7GVfLup0Hw3XdoXWa-c-PRvJ3KOvEwjzn4deNqLKxwDYgSgr_6-riSKepoE5pv9H_Rd5XA04u3yt0I7uB6CdjcoYdYfzyvcq5EW_tTBszVT/s320/dick.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
Signing off!<br />
- ManiMani Lalwanihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07507179660184880239noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653934080040270597.post-5132560996204565742011-01-06T07:22:00.000-08:002011-01-06T07:24:24.878-08:00All Over Again!Fortune favors the faithful,<br />
love listens to the lonely,<br />
time tracks the truthful,<br />
silence shines for the soulful..<br />
<br />
the lives once so intersecting,<br />
then fallen so apart,<br />
appeared for the revival,<br />
and moved on as a dart..!!<br />
<br />
the faith began to justify its meaning,<br />
as cloud 9 soon tried to regain its feeling,<br />
getting you first was something lucky,<br />
getting you second was something luckier..!!<br />
<br />
honest by love,<br />
true by soul,<br />
the attributes being such that<br />
conflicts had no role..!!<br />
<br />
weeks in , weeks out,<br />
the destiny intended to flout,<br />
so tenacious was I,<br />
ready to defy the norms,<br />
ready to axe the transforms..!!<br />
<br />
my bastion was strong enough I thought,<br />
as with all the quakes I had fought,<br />
after all the efforts to prevent the sway,<br />
but the inevitable fissures had their way..!!<br />
<br />
what a game the life can play,<br />
can't beat the odds, enfeebled as clay,<br />
<br />
If being happy at such times is all he can desire,<br />
then let me cherish the life, the quagmire.<br />
<br />
surely the break-up try to break you to pieces,<br />
but it also intends to move you back to creases,<br />
so that you can know life,<br />
because it ain't fun,<br />
until played with knife..!! :)<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>p.s. - Thanks Ashi Bhai for the guest post... :)</i><br />
<i>Am in love with your words...</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<i>p.p.s. - Happy New Year Buddies !</i><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Wish u all fantastic,fun filled n love dipped 2011.</i></span>Mani Lalwanihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07507179660184880239noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653934080040270597.post-5365166919229858082010-12-18T13:17:00.000-08:002010-12-20T07:47:24.685-08:00Its all about Priorities after all !Two long and painful hours, It had been raining cats and dogs in this part of the city.Vikram, who was sitting by his window, tuned his guitar and mindlessly started to hum....<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I don't mind some Sunshine,</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"> But No more Rain....</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Heavens Forbid, Please don't,</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"> Destroy my date again...</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"> Third day in a row, All the quality time planned to spend with Nimisha was getting ruined and all he could do was to sit there and watch it rain.God wasn't kind to him after all.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Seeing no signs of mother nature blessing him in the near future He gave Nimisha a call,</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">"You are such a witch! You made it rain, Didn't you ? You never wanted to come with me on a date darling? haina?" He accused her.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">"1. All accusations accepted with a smile! 2. Its not a date, Its just a casual meeting baba! 3. You are inviting troubles for yourself calling me a darling! if Anu comes to know na, I tell you baba..." She calmly replied in a Bengali accent.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">"All I care for is meeting you right now. even if it involves messing up with your husband, I don't care" Vikram replied in an instant.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">She could sense his desperation. She did what he could have never expected "Its raining outside budz, we can't meet this way but why don't you come along to my house. We can sure have a ball here." She said and his eyes lit up with excitement. The excitement of being alone with her in her house.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">"Oh ho! Someone wants me to meet her indoor. Something Cooking. Ding dong huh?"</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">"ki kotha bolcheesh?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #bbbbbb; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"> </span></span>Shut up, You jerk..."</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">"I didn't ask about the texture of your choice.. BTW is ribbed or dotted the preference? now i did " he played naughty.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">"Don't make me do voodoo on your ass now......" She replied with a sheepish grin. "I will see you at my home, 62, west avenue, Gulmohar Villa, Kolkatta in 30, bbye!" she told him before disconnecting.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">He dressed up and was at her house on time. They had a cosy session at her home. She made chocolates for him while he sang "Hey! There Delilah." for the lady of his dreams. He got along with her so well. Why didn't he meet her before? God wasn't kind to him after all.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">He bid her goodbye later with a sweet goodnight kiss and told her to be back tomorrow evening. "Nah! Anurag is coming back from his tour tomorrow evening! <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I guess we can't be talking leave apart meeting next week till he stays at home. I will be busy with all the household chorus." She told him. With a heavy heart he turned to make his way back home.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Back home he consoled himself that maybe he was like a crayon in Nimisha's life. He was </span>definitely<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> not her favorite color but, she kept needing him once in a while to complete the picture. And, that was what was important.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">God wasn't kind to him after all!</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">P.S. - Thanks for the read guys.I was too confused while writing the story, so no idea how it turned up. On personal front, life's not going that great. Vocational training, looks more of a torture than training to me. Need to walk 2.5 kms to and fro every damn day just to watch some crazy ass people too involved in their own shitty machinery, leave apart explaining. Why am I so Machinephobic or Mechanicalphobic for that instance ?</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Song of the day - Kaha chali gayi saali khushi from Dev-D</i></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i>not a song, its an epic :)</i></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Humor of the day - </span>Never die a virgin, when you get to heaven they make you fuck a suicide bomber. :p</i></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div>Mani Lalwanihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07507179660184880239noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2653934080040270597.post-54321575584022619252010-12-06T07:05:00.000-08:002010-12-06T07:41:36.969-08:00CREATIVE's @ maNIT<div><div style="text-align: justify;">Statutory Warning - If you are not a male and belong to MSME / Energy branch in Manit - The article may offend, readers discretion advised ;)</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">best of luck ! Proceed with caution.</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">Finally after a busy fortnight , I am back to the blogging arena... <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(Yup, I can hear the trumpets and the fan cheering. Feels good, feels Important.. Feels like God.)</span></i> It has been about a week that crap exams have ended , The crappier college society work is on halt and I have somehow finished the crappiest research project in the history of mankind till date under a dyslexic H.O.D who daily asked for my department's name. Anyways What Matters is that Dimples are back on the cheeks & am so loving it.......Well, lemme not forget the reason of me publishing this post.</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">Couple of days back I indulged myself into a fight online <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(I told you I am this Vella!)</span></i> with a guy who claimed that people of NIT-B are Gissus and all they are good at is mugging. So, I thought of showing the humankind real picture of how creative the guys <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(and girls, being politically correct)</span></i> here are !</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">So, When we are , with UTMOST <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>(don't worry, my caps lock is working all correct, merely wanted to put special emphasis on the word utmost)</i></span> concentration attending a lecture and jotting <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(read as - scribbling)</span></i> down the important notes <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>(read as - crap directly taken by proffs from prescribed books.) </i></span>Out of nowhere the creative in us overshadows the nerd and starts showing what we can really be up to, maNIT style.</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">Lemme give u an illustration. <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(Yup, the hot favorite 3 idiots style)</span></i></div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">Presenting is depiction of the Ramayan "Mani Lalwani" style which we drew in our notebook after I and Sirawale <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(yup, poor us, had just once copy to share. We accept your deepest sympathies!)</span></i> jotted down a few integration problems in a random Maths Class.<br />
<br />
</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM7Wj_jQ_NsZ0XJCHjkbvEraHJC5sJeagoB8VweWc6EXkW2x5s8jbFd308ZYvoGnKU7v3gI2SM1WRRZYCk5wRvPkjyQFpRjMvzwvNXIpiFt-FhxRWQGTvU2Tkkiajt7QOicLkvGYLtxdG3/s1600/01042010250.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM7Wj_jQ_NsZ0XJCHjkbvEraHJC5sJeagoB8VweWc6EXkW2x5s8jbFd308ZYvoGnKU7v3gI2SM1WRRZYCk5wRvPkjyQFpRjMvzwvNXIpiFt-FhxRWQGTvU2Tkkiajt7QOicLkvGYLtxdG3/s400/01042010250.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">Next up, is Vaibhav Dixit's depiction of our hot favorite Professor in maNIT , yup u got it right Garnier. No wonder This proff has this great ability of pissing you of with his all knowing <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>(read as - self obsessed)</i></span> comments. I hate this teacher as much as Indians hate Sania Mirza after the LSD incident <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(Love, Sania and Drama along with Shoaib Malik)</span></i>. Die, U jerk, Die !<br />
<br />
</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg2J7hP_1dAHpKUdA4n_rueR4tZ_NX7kjtMXsTiFAYpWEwHS_E9-gMqEOi7cWlBu0Yo2qKAd2DLFBS2ZKuiK_bj8lCSqos6dtYdgyt7bD5P_U4_AIrlJhRFMA69wV176FrhXaBYVtbPNDu/s1600/12042010271.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg2J7hP_1dAHpKUdA4n_rueR4tZ_NX7kjtMXsTiFAYpWEwHS_E9-gMqEOi7cWlBu0Yo2qKAd2DLFBS2ZKuiK_bj8lCSqos6dtYdgyt7bD5P_U4_AIrlJhRFMA69wV176FrhXaBYVtbPNDu/s400/12042010271.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZXpt_kajSvg5YcFzedm1cuDgHW05L3Php5Mn2bKyYJsvmPxTAZa5vlDtQmOWo59K3N61ycVs6eJP5UgeKmEvIXqWdX7GPILT34Lll-OaFf8bPzX5PHyepgSbUTdsTlD2O1U2dgJPfMyPg/s1600/12042010274.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZXpt_kajSvg5YcFzedm1cuDgHW05L3Php5Mn2bKyYJsvmPxTAZa5vlDtQmOWo59K3N61ycVs6eJP5UgeKmEvIXqWdX7GPILT34Lll-OaFf8bPzX5PHyepgSbUTdsTlD2O1U2dgJPfMyPg/s400/12042010274.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">By the way, Yup, You again guessed it right <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>(kya baat hai! form main ho.. huh!)</i></span>. In the picture I am the one sitting at the last bench, with a cell phone on my bench. Science says and i agree my CELL is the fundamental unit of my life.</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">Next, in row. is the "I surrender act to the crazy ass SOM Professor" drawn by our very own nerd CR of Proudy Prodies <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(CR = Chatur ramalingam and not Class representative. U had got it correct that CR = Chatur Ramalingum ? Like Fuck you had.)</span></i> often tagged as president of under forty club of our college. I love the way he has so minutely drawn every detail of the proff <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(referring to his nose)</span></i>. Shear Perfection. Master Piece. I bow down in front of you. Respect!<br />
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</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo8gQ9T4-rsJs9oq1fbRD-IcROVpGpKlB3vOTCzgyjtTYh1cMbqMFIJFok_E6st6SmvN3OjPW4Nsnq-E8LqHMFf33muplDoD7gIijQSTQx5MCZyWGJHD_4gx7IgC8e519QemZ0mX7SHRh9/s1600/24082010542.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo8gQ9T4-rsJs9oq1fbRD-IcROVpGpKlB3vOTCzgyjtTYh1cMbqMFIJFok_E6st6SmvN3OjPW4Nsnq-E8LqHMFf33muplDoD7gIijQSTQx5MCZyWGJHD_4gx7IgC8e519QemZ0mX7SHRh9/s400/24082010542.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">Once I courageously confessed to him , that I could never get a word in his lectures. Well, rest was as it goes Confessions may be good for the soul, but they are extremely dementing for the reputation. He kept asking me for solutions after that day, No points for guessing, I never disappointed him by trying to alter my reputation.</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">Also, I present to you our take at the Shaheed-Ae-Azam Chandra Shekar Azad's <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(Respect to the great warrior!)</span></i> Views on marriage "Lavya Style" Just to warn the fellow guys not to marry. This is Legen.... wait for it.. dary stuff. It would be so very 1. disheartning 2. depressing 3. demoralizing & 4. daunting to see my friends getting married. <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(sob sob.... In tears.. </span></i>Nah! I am all right... <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Sobs again..)</i></span><br />
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</i></span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUeM3aX7f8n_fN76LaDoh4mOM3fm2i9REXYAREJnXNlBCJrrglxJpqq6CVoNtvSYIPPhyRh5_hou9uUAHlYUg0vjr-kOmLI7gkHmgSi5R-BlZIkAmwxd2643mt3Z-N2PRcZ1d3oOwxHs5X/s1600/40223_460551011662_745801662_6412639_6957013_n+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUeM3aX7f8n_fN76LaDoh4mOM3fm2i9REXYAREJnXNlBCJrrglxJpqq6CVoNtvSYIPPhyRh5_hou9uUAHlYUg0vjr-kOmLI7gkHmgSi5R-BlZIkAmwxd2643mt3Z-N2PRcZ1d3oOwxHs5X/s400/40223_460551011662_745801662_6412639_6957013_n+%25281%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">next , and last is the bomber, This one is taken from an arbit bench of Energy Engineering classroom J- 205. I had always been in a dilemma whether to share this pic at Facebook or not, but then I always resisted the MCP in me, No more ! It is my personal space. I can fucking publish whatever I want to, If a particular species related to particular branch or two get offended, dumbass your fault, I warned you earlier, didn't I!<br />
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</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiChZbofeHCJeNbirz8Mw0wEoO5anR1YJxHrNZpnYoMGlaQTVFH-YL9gEvp44oh00awrN29PTo1MJAsnlwkl4wSu6Cjn1ztPrH4sIw22uoPRIYl2Qdo10YMi9PBFImSVvy-eLGPfdEwtV_8/s1600/08092009001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiChZbofeHCJeNbirz8Mw0wEoO5anR1YJxHrNZpnYoMGlaQTVFH-YL9gEvp44oh00awrN29PTo1MJAsnlwkl4wSu6Cjn1ztPrH4sIw22uoPRIYl2Qdo10YMi9PBFImSVvy-eLGPfdEwtV_8/s400/08092009001.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">I really symphatize the dude who drew this awesome comparison chart, There is nothing wrong in being humorously honest after all <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(wink.)</span></i> I love his crystal clarity and short yet simple approach to the complicated subject.</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">With this I would like to wrap up the proceedings. I would be back when we guys <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(screw your political correctness girls)</span></i> are again blamed for being hopelessly creative !</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">Hence proved today, That guys at MANIT are creative Scholars. period :)</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><i>song of the day - Ring my Bells, Enrique "cry baby" Iglesias.</i></span></i><br />
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><i></i></span>humor of the day - honesty is the key to any relationship....if you can fake that..you are in!!! </i></div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">P.S. - Thank you all the people who actually went through my earlier blog posts. When I reply late please don't blame me, blame my sentimental values <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(read as - laziness.)</span></i> see ya! Sayonara! :)</div></div>Mani Lalwanihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07507179660184880239noreply@blogger.com14