<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-381411073419276872</id><updated>2012-01-30T03:13:27.971-08:00</updated><category term='romance'/><category term='story'/><title type='text'>Something's Fishy</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/381411073419276872/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>kay gee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04038428374057302291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/SOuEkJG76aI/AAAAAAAAADw/7kHu2fiWX6o/S220/n539795486_3910896_245.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>18</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-381411073419276872.post-3426235913185701968</id><published>2011-04-08T05:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-12T07:37:35.199-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Starting up</title><content type='html'>We're starting-up and &lt;a href="http://blog.internshala.com/2011/04/internship-with-an-iit-madras-alumni-startup-web-development-chennai-india/"&gt;hiring interns&lt;/a&gt; using the help of a very amazing start-up called &lt;a href="http://internshala.com"&gt;Internshala&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Much more, later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/381411073419276872-3426235913185701968?l=somethingisfishy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/feeds/3426235913185701968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=381411073419276872&amp;postID=3426235913185701968' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/381411073419276872/posts/default/3426235913185701968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/381411073419276872/posts/default/3426235913185701968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/2011/04/starting-up.html' title='Starting up'/><author><name>kay gee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04038428374057302291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/SOuEkJG76aI/AAAAAAAAADw/7kHu2fiWX6o/S220/n539795486_3910896_245.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-381411073419276872.post-2789420399815922549</id><published>2010-12-31T06:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-10T09:58:05.816-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='romance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='story'/><title type='text'>Break-up ke baad</title><content type='html'>He lay shattered on the bed on his stomach. He tilted his head towards right and the picture at the centre of the wall appeared before him. She was seated on a chair and he was standing behind her with his arms around her. They had taken the photograph at a studio and both of them had got it framed it and put up on their walls. "How lovely they looked together!", everybody had remarked.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They indeed looked great together but it was over now. He had texted her yesterday and clearly told her that it was time they parted ways. It wasn't an amicable break-up. They had had a huge altercation before that. And, altercations had become the norm over the past few months. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He decided that he must stop thinking about the past and move on. He switched his on laptop and opened facebook's log-in page. He stopped while typing the password; he couldn't even type her name anymore. Disgusted, he shut his laptop down and went to the balcony. He put a cigarette between his lips, lit it and took a long puff. He remembered she used to hate his smoking habit and how she used to snatch the cigarette from his mouth everytime he'd smoke around her. "God, single life is great", he  thought. "Freeeedom!", he screamed. The uncle, sipping the morning tea in the balcony opposite to his, got startled. He smiled and went inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It has been ages since I wrote an anything", he thought, "and they say that some of the best pieces of literature are written after nasty break-ups". He sat on his study table, opened a notepad and pulled a pen from the pen-stand. Now was the difficult part - he had no idea what to write. Several options lay before him, but he narrowed them down to a love story or a poem. The genre had to be romance because the artist in him wanted to extract maximum advantage from their break-up. The problem with stories is that it takes so long to build a plot that most of the time one gets bored and abandons the idea. "Poem it is then", he thought and put the pen down on the paper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next few lines went so smoothly that he was amazed when he had done writing them. It was as if someone had held his hand and helped him write.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" I fall down and I get up&lt;br /&gt;I start running in a gallop&lt;br /&gt;I hear footsteps chasing me and I look behind&lt;br /&gt;She is following me but I think I've lost my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's impossible because I had left her far away&lt;br /&gt;It's astonishing how she always knows my way&lt;br /&gt;There's no stopping me this time around;&lt;br /&gt;There're bigger things for which I am bound&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I run longer than Forrest Gump&lt;br /&gt;and when i reach a wonderland, I jump&lt;br /&gt;on seeing people dancing and birds chirping.&lt;br /&gt;It suddenly saddens to think of what I've been missing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never fall in love, they say&lt;br /&gt;I object, I say "Nay".&lt;br /&gt;Sure, love has played a hand&lt;br /&gt;In helping me find the wonderland. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without reading the poem and feeling satisfied with the effort, he closed the notebook. He logged back into facebook, changed the password and changed his relationship status to "single".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/381411073419276872-2789420399815922549?l=somethingisfishy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/feeds/2789420399815922549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=381411073419276872&amp;postID=2789420399815922549' title='22 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/381411073419276872/posts/default/2789420399815922549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/381411073419276872/posts/default/2789420399815922549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/2010/12/break-up-ke-baad.html' title='Break-up ke baad'/><author><name>kay gee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04038428374057302291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/SOuEkJG76aI/AAAAAAAAADw/7kHu2fiWX6o/S220/n539795486_3910896_245.jpg'/></author><thr:total>22</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-381411073419276872.post-3598605370133801470</id><published>2010-03-02T09:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T10:13:46.502-08:00</updated><title type='text'>IIMs' faulty scoring system, and why I'm pissed off</title><content type='html'>In this blog article, I’d only like to talk about the IIMs’ scoring system for boards examinations and graduation marks. The fact that they consider a heavy weightage for the marks obtained in boards examination as compared to the CAT score is another contentious issue which I’d like to discuss some other time. &lt;br /&gt;A rough pattern of weightage of various marks for any IIMs’ scoring system looks something like this:&lt;br /&gt;CAT marks: 60%&lt;br /&gt;Xth: 10%&lt;br /&gt;XIIth: 10%&lt;br /&gt;Graduation: 10%&lt;br /&gt;Work Experience: 10%&lt;br /&gt;The score given for marks obtained in boards and graduation is a step function defined as: Score = 10 for %age=&lt; 100 and &gt;= 95, Score = 8 for %=&lt;95 and &gt;90 , and so on)&lt;br /&gt;Here, I’d like to compare two candidates A and B. The differences between their percentages in boards and graduation is small and A has performed better than B in the CAT exam.&lt;br /&gt;Suppose candidate A has secured 264/450 (A percentile of 99.85 overall) in CAT, 89.6% in Xth, 79.4% in XIIth, 84.2% in graduation and no work experience. On the other hand, candidate B has secured 253/450 (A percentile of 99.54 overall) in CAT, 90.4% in Xth, 80.8% in XIIth, 85.6% in graduation and no work experience.&lt;br /&gt;In this case, IIMs calculate the score from the CAT exam by linearising it through the following equation:&lt;br /&gt;Score = (Cat score / 450) * 60 &lt;br /&gt;This gets A 35.2 + 6 + 2 + 4 + 0 = &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;47.2/100&lt;/span&gt;, while it gets candidate B 33.73 + 8 + 4 + 6 + 0 = &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;51.73/100&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Instead of this, had the IIMs linearized the scoring system for boards as follows:&lt;br /&gt;Score = (percentage – 75) / 2.5, &lt;br /&gt;A would’ve had a total of 35.2 + 5.84 + 1.76 + 3.68 + 0 = &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;46.48/100&lt;/span&gt;, while candidate B would’ve got 33.73 + 6.16 + 2.32 + 4.24 + 0 = &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;46.45/100&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;The candidate B is helped by the fact that his percentages are on the right side of the percentage range while candidate’s A percentages fall on the wrong side. As we see, unlike in the first case with the final score difference between A and B is huge, the first case makes their score comaparable. Hence, when we linearize both the CAT scores and boards, graduation percentages before adding them up, it gives us far more just results. &lt;br /&gt;Also, it is a known fact that boards across the country are far from uniform in their scoring. So, it makes very difficult for a person from, say Rajasthan board to compete against a person from Andhra Pradesh State Board.&lt;br /&gt;This faulty and unjust system has surely robbed a lot of candidates who did extremely well in CAT the chance of getting into and IIM. Since my marks in boards and graduation are similar in manner to candidate A and the fact that I can't go back to my past and write the board exams again or work harder for my cgpa, I don’t think I am going to write CAT again, knowing the fact that the top IIMs are always going to elude me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Certain data used in this blog post is based on the scoring criteria released by IIM C and IIM L.]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/381411073419276872-3598605370133801470?l=somethingisfishy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/feeds/3598605370133801470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=381411073419276872&amp;postID=3598605370133801470' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/381411073419276872/posts/default/3598605370133801470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/381411073419276872/posts/default/3598605370133801470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/2010/03/iims-faulty-scoring-pattern.html' title='IIMs&apos; faulty scoring system, and why I&apos;m pissed off'/><author><name>kay gee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04038428374057302291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/SOuEkJG76aI/AAAAAAAAADw/7kHu2fiWX6o/S220/n539795486_3910896_245.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-381411073419276872.post-5319363782551606126</id><published>2009-11-26T15:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-27T11:15:09.962-08:00</updated><title type='text'>HR Interview with a Terrorist Organisation</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Interviewer:&lt;/span&gt; Tell me about yourself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Candidate:&lt;/span&gt; I am doing mechanical engineering from the country’s most prestigious institute. I have no interest in academics, and my poor cgpa bears testimony to that. My poor attendance record shows that while my other batchmates were wasting their time inside classrooms listening to boring lectures, I was busy planting crackers in toilets and in headmaster’s office. I am intolerant towards others’ opinions and have a destructive mindset. While all my classmates went into sectors such as core, finance and consultancy, I had always been unsure about my field of interest. Until, of course, I came to know of this opening. I think I am a perfect fit for this line of career.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Interviewer:&lt;/span&gt; Can you give some examples to explain your personality traits?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Candidate:&lt;/span&gt;  There are many. The other day, during a discussion, when I said that &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Mughlai Kabaab&lt;/span&gt; is the most delicious dish and one of friends disagreed with that, I was taken over by so much rage that I pounced upon him and kept thrashing him with my hockey stick until he fell in line with my opinion. I am a bigot and get infuriated when someone disagrees with my opinions. I am an efficient leader and have lead huge mobs to boycott classes until various demands were not met. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Interviewer:&lt;/span&gt; What are your skill sets that may be of use to our organisation?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Candidate:&lt;/span&gt;  From what I’ve read in the news, your organisation is at the forefront of a technological boom. You have the nuclear technology and are looking to use it for making nuclear bombs. You’re always looking for methods to breach the security. I think I can apply my technological skills to these areas. Also, any operation requires a lot of planning and strategic thinking, and people at my college are famous for having superior analytical skills. As listed in my extra-curricular activities, I have participated in a number of brawls and have even been suspended from college after being repeatedly caught for cheating. I am a daring and a confident person. My skill sets would bring a lot of value to the organisation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Interviewer:&lt;/span&gt; Why do you want to work for us?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Candidate:&lt;/span&gt;  Working with your organisation entails everything that my dream job consists of. There is a lot of prestige associated with working for your organisation – both inside and outside the workplace. People address you as &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Bhai&lt;/span&gt; respectfully inside the organisation, and anywhere outside the very mention of being associated with such an organisation would command tremendous fear. &lt;br /&gt;At your organisation, one gets to work in various places around the globe – from the advanced countries in America and Europe to the lovely mountains in Kandahar and Pakistan. Unlike most other companies that require you to wear uncomfortable formal clothing everyday, one gets to wear a variety of clothing – from tatty clothing during military training to smart clothing during a recce - at your organisation. Because of having to use multiple identities, one gets to experiment a lot with one’s looks – from a completely tonsured and shaven look, to a funky spikes and a goatee, to sporting a wig and a beard. One gets to meet a number of people as well.Huge sums of money obtained from operations such as selling illegal drugs and extortion from film producers and politicians ensures a lavish standard of living.&lt;br /&gt;In all, I like the the work-life balance at your organisation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Interviewer:&lt;/span&gt; Do you realise that there is a perpetual bond with the organisation and that the working conditions are tough?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Candidate:&lt;/span&gt;  Yes, I know that one can only leave the world forever, but can never leave this organisation. Also, I am aware of the fact that terms such as getting "fired" and a "deadline" are taken literally. And, during this time of recession, companies are already delaying offer letters, making employees sign four-year long bonds, cutting employee strength and what not. Working at any company these days is stressful and there are few people who are actually happy with their job. Companies these days are making their employees work for twelve hours a day, six days a week and sometimes night shifts too. I don’t mind working at erratic work timings or the stringent criterion at work at your organisation because I’d enjoy whatever I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Interviewer:&lt;/span&gt; Doesn’t the negative public image about the organisation bother you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Candidate:&lt;/span&gt; Not at all. Every government and every major corporation these days indulges in foul play. They swindle people of their hard-earned money and hardly bother about people’s lives. It’s all a matter of image projection through the credulous media. I admire the fact that your organisation is against creating false perceptions among people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Interviewer:&lt;/span&gt; You’ve no prior knowledge about our religious beliefs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Candidate:&lt;/span&gt; That’s my forte. I have managed to pass a lot of courses by rote learning at the eleventh hour before the exam. From the weirdest of topics such as bioprocess technology to linear algebra, I have been able to cram them all at short notice. I will certainly be able to learn the various abstruse religious texts by heart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interviewer:&lt;/span&gt; Is there anything that you’d like the ask us?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Candidate:&lt;/span&gt;  I have been eager to know if the company allows flexibility in terms of switching between back-office work of designing strategies for attacks and on-the-field missions such as blowing up state properties or hijacking airplanes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interviewer:&lt;/span&gt; Sure. Congratulations, you’re now one of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(This blog post was a consequence of the discussion I had with my wingmates last night about the placement scenario)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/381411073419276872-5319363782551606126?l=somethingisfishy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/feeds/5319363782551606126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=381411073419276872&amp;postID=5319363782551606126' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/381411073419276872/posts/default/5319363782551606126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/381411073419276872/posts/default/5319363782551606126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/2009/11/hr-interview-with-terrorist.html' title='HR Interview with a Terrorist Organisation'/><author><name>kay gee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04038428374057302291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/SOuEkJG76aI/AAAAAAAAADw/7kHu2fiWX6o/S220/n539795486_3910896_245.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-381411073419276872.post-1239125866544503827</id><published>2009-11-09T03:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-09T03:34:51.841-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The last message</title><content type='html'>He had first seen Rituparna in the Aeromodelling club. She was the only girl among freshies who had joined the club. Thanks to their googlegroup, he managed to get hold of her email id and they started chatting on the internet. And after the internet got disconnected, they would talk for hours through the night on the phone. Ritu was outspoken not even least bit conservative; she had lived in the US till eleven years of age. She still had a American touch to her english accent, which he used to find cute. He used to admire the fact the she was still well versed in hindi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a fortnight or so, they decided to go out for dinner. It was 7.30 p.m. and he was waiting for her outside her hostel. He remembered every minute detail about that evening. She was wearing a black halter neck dress and was looking stunning. He could not take her eyes off her while she was walking out of her hostel towards him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Hey. Let’s go?’, she had asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘ Oh ya, ya’, he had stammered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had bursted out laughing at this, and his heart melted in an instant. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They went to Simply Sumptuous and got along really well. She giggled at each of his jokes, and he used to love that. And when she started talking about her favourite cartoon series, she went on and on. He didn’t mind that at all because he got an oppurtunity to get lost in her beautiful eyes during that time. They returned to their college around 10.30 pm and parted to their respective hostels. He had barely reached the door of his room when his phone beeped. ‘1 message received’- it said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He opened the messaged anxiously and it read – ‘I had a wonderful time. Thanks x’. He beamed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She got a friend request from an unfamiliar id – rahul.superkool - one day. He told her he had seen her at the Aeromodelling club. Guys in this college are desperate, she had thought, but atleast unlike the other guys who were too scared to muster courage to talk to her, this guy had atleast tried to contact her. Even the girls in her hostel used to stay aloof from her. She didn’t know why, and didn’t even try to make an effort to be friends with them. She found this very bizarre because she had always had a huge friend circle, and some of her best friends were guys. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She started chatting with him and soon they became good friends. Then one day, when he suggested that they went out for dinner, she ageed instantly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She saw him standing outside her hostel waiting for him. He was dressed garishly. Who wears a bright silver shirt to a dinner? - she wondered. He was even quixotic enough to give her a red rose tucked in his back-pocket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apart from the few jokes and the small talk that he attempted, she felt the conversation was pretty one-sided. She had little interest in knowing about his favourite footballer or his most adventurous trek ever. However, his good sense of humour made up for his poor dressing sense and under-confidence. She thought of him to be a nice guy but surely he wasn’t boyfriend- material. Upon returning to her room, she messaged him courteously saying that she had a good time. Not even ten seconds later, her phone beeped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The message read – ‘I had d best time of my lyf :D u’re amazing n v pretty. Hey I think I’ve feelings towards u’. She was stunned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today Rahul, who is a few days away from passing out of college, laughed out loudly when he remembered those days and thought how naïve he was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Ritu, who was yet to make any good friends in college, wondered whether she should’ve chided him and terminated her relationship with him after that last message.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/381411073419276872-1239125866544503827?l=somethingisfishy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/feeds/1239125866544503827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=381411073419276872&amp;postID=1239125866544503827' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/381411073419276872/posts/default/1239125866544503827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/381411073419276872/posts/default/1239125866544503827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/2009/11/last-message.html' title='The last message'/><author><name>kay gee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04038428374057302291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/SOuEkJG76aI/AAAAAAAAADw/7kHu2fiWX6o/S220/n539795486_3910896_245.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-381411073419276872.post-715586990048507209</id><published>2009-08-24T23:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T03:28:44.869-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Story [day-3]</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I will start a story now and keep adding to it every day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6 A.M. It was early morning. The cynosure of all the activities was the yellow and green coloured building at the middle of the street. It had been cordoned off by the police. People were peeping out of their windows, gazes fixed at it. An air of anxiety and fear seemed to have engulfed not only everyone but everything in the surroundings. Even the leaves on the trees refused to budge. The eerie silence was sporadically broken by murmurs among the people, standing on the opposite street, discussing and forming opinions from whatever they had come to know.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, nobody knew much yet. Mr. Sharma, who had called the police, was being questioned by the police and the detectives. He and his wife were sleeping when they were woken up by the shots. But, except the number of shots, which were two, and the time at which they had heard it, which was 3 A.M., neither of them had seen or heard anything which could be of any help to the investigators.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apart from a couple of isolated incidents of chain snatching, the neighbourhood had so far been by and large peaceful. Parents could allow their children to play on the streets till late in the evening and would even hesitate to double check if they had locked all the doors before sleeping. But, after these horrifying murders, all that would change. As they say in hindi: &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;shaayad kisi ki nazar lagg gayi..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Police, detectives and a medical specialist were examining the scene of crime, taking notes and collecting the objects for fingerprint detection. Photographers were avidly taking photos from every angle and of every nook and corner of the room. One constable was taking notes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The inside of that house was in perfect order. Prima facie, there was no sign of burglary or forced entry. None of the non-living objects seemed to have been moved or touched for that matter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The body of the young woman lay on the bed. Two shots had been fired into the eyes and the blood had dried up along the sides of her face and on to the pillow on which her head rested. A huge smile was painted on her face, over her lips, using a red coloured lip stick. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The watchman, who was on the night duty in that building, clearly did not anticipate anything untoward to happen that night. Nor did his low paying and zero perk job warrant him to stay alert throughout the night. He admitted to the police that he had been somnolent most of the times and had even perhaps dozed off for some time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, because the street which was largely quiet during the night, he remembered to have woken up twice by the noise of a vehicle passing by. His poor reflexes, helped by the old age, and the high speed of the vehicle prevented him from even noticing what the colour of the vehicle was, or whether it was the same vehicle on both the occasions. He estimated the time of vehicle passing by to be about 1 a.m. and the time difference between the noises to be about half an hour. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Police also spoke to the people living in the building who told them that Ruby had shifted to this house a couple of months back. She lived alone and worked for an IT company. From whatever they had known of her, although she mingled less, she seemed to be gracious and had a twinkly demeanour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was shy and introvert, especially when it came to speaking to the opposite sex. But, it wasn't entirely his fault. He had studied in a boys' school all his life and had little chance of mingling with girls otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he joined St. Xaviers' College, he was initially shocked by the skewed sex ratio, which was in the favour of girls. And, there was no dearth of pretty girls either. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the first year, he was smitten by a girl named Meera. When he saw her during the freshers' orientation, he was naive enough to presume that it was a case of love at first sight. He started paying attention to his hairstyle, his appearance and even got rid of his dark-rimmed spectacles. He made notes and even rehearsed what he would tell her when they first meet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meera was going to the library when he accosted her. She stopped and look into his eyes. He got so enamoured by her large and beautiful eyes that he blanked out. He could feel tiny droplets of sweat started oozing out of the pores of his forehead.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He gaped at her for what seemed to be an eternity for him before she asked, '&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Hi. Is there something you want to say?&lt;/span&gt;'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Oh. Well. Ummm. Yes. Oh no. No!&lt;/span&gt;' was all that he could muster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;You sure?&lt;/span&gt;', she asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He stared feeling dizzy and took flight without even answering the question. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he returned to his room, he punched the wall hard and cursed himself. She must have thought of him as some kind of a nutcase, he thought. But, he promised himself that he would definitely speak to her and apologise for his foolishness the very next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next day, he saw her walking hand in hand with Rajiv. His roommate told him that they were dating. He was crestfallen. For inexplicable reasons, he felt betrayed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was it, he thought. After that, he stopped mingling with anybody and even stopped looking at girls. Library became his home and books became his only companion. He returned to his dark-rimmed glasses, unkempt hairstyle and even grew a beard. For the only reason that he topped his class for two years straight, were some girls aware of his existence. But, he was considered to be a nerd and even despised by most of his classmates. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the end of the second year, most of his classmates had a girlfriend, unless, ofcourse, they had had a breakup very lately. Atleast those who wanted, did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Ruby joined their class in the third year as an exchange student, he was unaware that from then on his life would take a ninety degree turn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;to be contd..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/381411073419276872-715586990048507209?l=somethingisfishy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/feeds/715586990048507209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=381411073419276872&amp;postID=715586990048507209' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/381411073419276872/posts/default/715586990048507209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/381411073419276872/posts/default/715586990048507209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/2009/08/story.html' title='Story [day-3]'/><author><name>kay gee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04038428374057302291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/SOuEkJG76aI/AAAAAAAAADw/7kHu2fiWX6o/S220/n539795486_3910896_245.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-381411073419276872.post-6118868126628256079</id><published>2009-07-03T01:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-03T04:22:29.281-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Making Hay while the Gay issue shines</title><content type='html'>Enough has been said and written of late about the historic High Court judgement on the gay rights issue.&lt;br /&gt;Most people and the media have welcomed the judgement. But, just like every path-breaking law faces an opposition, so must this judgement. Its share of opposition comes from certain perverse hardliners and self-appointed religious guardians who leave no stone unturned to stay in news.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are a few of their strong statements and my reactions to them:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Babu Joseph, spokesperson for the Catholic Bishops Conference of India &lt;/span&gt; says, "&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Homosexual relations and groups are advocating a new concept of family which is not self sustaining, not good for the future and the society. We will join other groups voicing similar concerns.&lt;/span&gt;" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;My Reaction&lt;/span&gt;: How is it not self-sustaining? Of course it is. Ever heard of adoption? How is it not good for future and the scoiety? Vague. Very Vague. Please get your basics sorted out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Jamiat-e-Ulema-e-Hind's Maulana Mehmud Madani&lt;/span&gt; says, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"Homosexuality is Haram (prohibited) and an immoral act. It is unnatural. It is a punishable offence in Shariat. It is against the age old traditions and culture of India and of Islam."&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;My Reaction:&lt;/span&gt; You don't prescribe what is morally correct and what is natural. Courts are there to debate what is morally correct and what is not, and science has established that homosexuality is mostly natural. I don't know much about Islam, but it has been very much there in the 'old traditions and culture of India'. By the way, our country isn't goverened by the Shariat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Giriraj Kishore, VHP leader&lt;/span&gt;, says, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"Customs and traditions are broken. It will increase AIDS." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;My Reaction:&lt;/span&gt; Somebody please send this guy back to school. AIDS can be prevented by safe sex. What does it have to do with the nature of intercourse?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Baba Ramdev&lt;/span&gt; says, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"Do the people behind this verdict consider homosexuality natural? Is it something they will themselves do? If our parents had been gays, would we have been born? Freedom doesn’t mean licence. Our family system is the only ideal we can show to the world. Sadly, this judgment will end up corrupting it. I will be part of every protest against the judgment.’’&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;My Reaction:&lt;/span&gt; Sir, the answer to your first question is an Absolute Yes. The second question is stupid because if they are homosexuals, they will, else they won't. Easy. The third question is even more stupid. Any Std IX student can answer that. Now, I must ask - Does the law allow only those intercourses which result into birth? No. So, why should homosexuality be banned just because its not reproductive?&lt;br /&gt;Coming to the last part of the reaction, family system is indeed an ideal which we can show to the world but not the Only one. Plus, why cant homosexuals have an 'ideal' family? Having said this, you are welcome to protest it. It's your fundamental right.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/381411073419276872-6118868126628256079?l=somethingisfishy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/feeds/6118868126628256079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=381411073419276872&amp;postID=6118868126628256079' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/381411073419276872/posts/default/6118868126628256079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/381411073419276872/posts/default/6118868126628256079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/2009/07/making-hay-while-gay-shines.html' title='Making Hay while the Gay issue shines'/><author><name>kay gee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04038428374057302291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/SOuEkJG76aI/AAAAAAAAADw/7kHu2fiWX6o/S220/n539795486_3910896_245.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-381411073419276872.post-6191698396145545094</id><published>2009-06-30T02:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-01T01:25:38.957-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Heights of absurdity</title><content type='html'>Soon, our campus will see a addition of a huge number of students.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, to accomodate them, the previous mess halls of Narmada, Saraswati and Alakananda hostels will be demolished and 64 rooms will be built in its place. Also, an extra third floor will be added with an additional 64 rooms. Which means that soon these hostels will be able to accomodate 360 students from the previous 232 students. A increase of over 50% is not insignificant. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The same small quadrangle and other sporting facilities in the hostel will now be shared by so many people. The mess hall cannot be converted into an Indoor Sports Complex now. The FoosBall table (or/and the Table Tennis Table) will now be crammed into the music room. The thought of living in a densely populated hostel and having to share resources seems awkward and very discomforting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only benefit I see right now is that we will gain in various inter-hostel Lit-Soc, Tech-Soc and Schroeter events. Stronger teams and better participation. Although it will take another year for the new rooms to be built and then occupied, our mess roof top is gone which is pretty sad for our wing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reservations. Creation of new IITs. I had thought I would be largely unaffected by these insensible Governmental measures before I've passed out of this college. I know it's a bit ego-centric and selfish but today I feel really infuriated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the creation of so many new IITs was not enough, the government is now increasing the number of seats in the IITs. If the government has to reform our country's educational system, it should work on basic problems like improving primary education by creating better schooling infastructure, training teachers, making teaching a lucrative job, reducing the dropout rate from schools and revising the curriculum regularly. It should encourage private-public partnership in education. These are just some of the measures that one can think of in a hurry. Its easier to take decisions without enough consulations or groundwork and form committees than to actually work with dedication on ground towards improving the education system. Creating new IITs or increasing the number of seats drastically is only going to reduce their standards. If you increase the number of students, you've got to increase the number of well trained faculty and improve the infrastructure as well. It's neither rocket science, nor complex mathematics. It's common sense, which our government seems to be lacking.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/381411073419276872-6191698396145545094?l=somethingisfishy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/feeds/6191698396145545094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=381411073419276872&amp;postID=6191698396145545094' title='27 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/381411073419276872/posts/default/6191698396145545094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/381411073419276872/posts/default/6191698396145545094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/2009/06/heights-of-absurdity.html' title='Heights of absurdity'/><author><name>kay gee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04038428374057302291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/SOuEkJG76aI/AAAAAAAAADw/7kHu2fiWX6o/S220/n539795486_3910896_245.jpg'/></author><thr:total>27</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-381411073419276872.post-3254458813181763256</id><published>2009-06-24T01:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T03:43:49.638-07:00</updated><title type='text'>An attempt at sensationalism: Z and J</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Disclaimer&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;It's a filthy work of fiction filled with fabrication of facts. I have all due respect for both the protagonists. Any resemblance of the alphabets Z and J to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Z called up Ms. J yesterday. The former is the President of one of our neighbouring countries while the latter is one of hottest female stars in Hollywood. Of course, there is nothing going on between the two. But let us allow our imagination to run amok for a bit. Could it be a Imran-Jemima or Sarkozy-Bruni kind of an affair in the making? &lt;br /&gt;Mr. Z became a widower last year after the assassination of his wife. And Ms. J, despite being in a live-in relationship with a top Hollywood actor for many years, seems to be bizarrely disinterested towards marriage. Both of them are charismatic, successful, single and apparently interested. Here's how.&lt;br /&gt;From what our sources tell us, Ms. J seems to have made the first move. She has donated $1M (about Rs. 5 crore) to Mr. Z's country. Now, how much of this money actually reaches the people is anybody's guess. It seems to be a gift for Mr. Z under the wraps of humanitarian aid. &lt;br /&gt;Compared to what other countries and individuals have donated, $1 million is a minuscule amount. He could have even avoided calling up Ms. J, or he should have called up both Ms. J and her boyfriend because the donation was made by the them jointly through their J-P foundation. &lt;br /&gt;Not only this, during the long call that Mr. Z made yesterday to her. he has also invited Ms. J to visit Pakistan sometime so that he can reciprocate her gesture. A little birdie tells us that Mr. Z first met Ms. J during his last trip to the US. He was apparently very pleased after the visited and had even said that the friendship with US has been a blessing. &lt;br /&gt;Apparently, the two of them had kept their relationship under wraps for long and its only now that they've started fuelling speculation.&lt;br /&gt;Surely, something's fishy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/381411073419276872-3254458813181763256?l=somethingisfishy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/feeds/3254458813181763256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=381411073419276872&amp;postID=3254458813181763256' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/381411073419276872/posts/default/3254458813181763256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/381411073419276872/posts/default/3254458813181763256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/2009/06/attempt-at-sensationalism-z-and-j.html' title='An attempt at sensationalism: Z and J'/><author><name>kay gee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04038428374057302291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/SOuEkJG76aI/AAAAAAAAADw/7kHu2fiWX6o/S220/n539795486_3910896_245.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-381411073419276872.post-8594842421576181767</id><published>2009-06-16T01:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T07:18:01.024-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Anecdotes from Train Journies: Please adjust</title><content type='html'>One has to adjust in life. And if one lives in a country like mine, one has to adjust a lot.&lt;br /&gt;I got to know about the date of joining for my internship about a month before the date. That was too late for me to get any ticket in the General Quota. The only feasible option for me then was to book a ticket in the Tatkal Quota. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I had to adjust.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Now, for the unawares, booking under Tatkal Quota begins five days before the date of journey at 8 am. The two ways to book a train ticket are through the internet or at the ticket counter at railways stations. The unavailability of internet connection during morning in our college ruled out the former and the ongoing end semester exams ruled out the latter. So, I had to ask one of my cousins to book a ticket for me through the internet. But, the site would develop problems immediately after 8 am and show some arbitrary errors. By the time it worked, all the tickets under the quota were over. I realised that there is a nexus between people at Railways and the agents who get tickets for you by charging some extra amount. The next day I had to get a ticket through a friend who knew someone at the Railways. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I had to adjust.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I got a ticket in the Sleeper Class for the twenty-six hour long journey and that too during summers. But, that was better than nothing. I had to somehow reach there. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I had to adjust.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, Sleeper coaches don't have a mobile charger point at the compartment. Some coaches do have one in each coach near the door. Mine had, but it did not work. My mobile was almost out of battery and I needed to charge it. So, I had to go and see if the charging point in the other coach worked, I went from S10 to S9 only to find that the condition here was even worse. There, someone had removed the whole socket and there were just three wires dangling out of a whole in the wall. I kept traveling from coach to coach and finally found a charging point that worked in S3.But somebody was charging his phone over there and there were two others in the queue. He told me that the charging point in S1 also works and I could go there. When I reached S1, there was just one person charging his phone. Thankfully, there was no queue. He told me that he would need just fifteen minutes more. After coming so far, I obviously did not mind waiting. But soon, the train came to a halt at a small station. He said he would be back in five minutes and if I could watch over his phone till then. I agreed. But, five minutes are never five minutes. In no time, the small area between the two doors and the toilets was packed by around ten-twelve men and women, mostly villagers. They sat down all around me on the floor and created the most densely populated area possible by humans. For the next fifteen minutes which seemed like an eternity, I was just standing at the door in the heat waiting for him to return. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I had to adjust.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The train budged and he came, unplugged his phone, thanked me and went. Now, standing in what seemed like a pool of people I was only hoping to get out of that place as soon as possible. The sights, the smells and the sounds were very discomforting. If that wasn't enough, soon, a quarrel broke out between a woman sitting on the first side berth of the compartment and a ticketless traveler trying to occupy the small vacant space on her berth. Another person said something and the woman started shouting. A lot more people joined in and profanities were exchanged. For me, the quarrel had crossed the line of entertainment and entered into a domain of fright. Despite wanting to get out of that mess, I could not. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I had to adjust.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, on the way back from Pune, I had fortunately managed to get a ticket in 3AC. We were a couple of hours away from Chennai. Mine was the side upper seat, which I had got by exchanging my original seat with a family who had asked me if I could adjust. As soon as the person who was occupying the seat below mine got down, I came down from the upper seat to sit by the window. I was reading a magazine when someone came and asked, "&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Can I sit here aaa&lt;/span&gt;?". My legs were folded and therefore half of the seat was still empty. I half mumbled something like, "&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;But that would make me uncomfortable&lt;/span&gt;". But, he couldn't hear it. He repeated, "&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Should I come aaa?&lt;/span&gt;". I wanted to tell him that because of ticketless travellers like them, we have to pay more, but I nodded. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I had to adjust.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, he called his wife and their small kid from somewhere and made them sit there. The kid was so cute that all my anger melted away. He kept playing with my bag for the next hour or so.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/381411073419276872-8594842421576181767?l=somethingisfishy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/feeds/8594842421576181767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=381411073419276872&amp;postID=8594842421576181767' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/381411073419276872/posts/default/8594842421576181767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/381411073419276872/posts/default/8594842421576181767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/2009/06/anecdotes-from-train-jouney-please.html' title='Anecdotes from Train Journies: Please adjust'/><author><name>kay gee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04038428374057302291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/SOuEkJG76aI/AAAAAAAAADw/7kHu2fiWX6o/S220/n539795486_3910896_245.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-381411073419276872.post-6569589637398967150</id><published>2009-04-10T23:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T02:52:10.055-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sho(w)e Stopper</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/SeBZZ0O-LiI/AAAAAAAAAHI/fH7gtdEhjfI/s1600-h/Shoe+thrown+at+Bush.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 246px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/SeBZZ0O-LiI/AAAAAAAAAHI/fH7gtdEhjfI/s320/Shoe+thrown+at+Bush.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323353059604966946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/SeBZZmO3UNI/AAAAAAAAAHA/W7kATMKAY0o/s1600-h/wq07112rw.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 204px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/SeBZZmO3UNI/AAAAAAAAAHA/W7kATMKAY0o/s320/wq07112rw.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323353055846420690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Throwing rotten eggs and tomatoes at the performers on stage whom public found boring is something everyone had heard of.&lt;br /&gt;But on 14th December, 2008, Muntazer al-Zaidi, a journalist from al-Baghdadia TV innovated and how! He hurled two shoes at the then US President on his last visit to Iraq during a press conference.&lt;br /&gt;Though it started with Bush, now there seems to be no end. In all the major shoe throwing incidents so far, at the recieving ends have been political leaders of huge status - the American President, the Chinese PM and the Indian Home minister.&lt;br /&gt;If used effectively, such a form of protest can have maximum &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Yield&lt;/span&gt; (= effect/cost*punishment).&lt;br /&gt;A shoe thrown at any political leader becomes a metaphor for dissent and the anger filled up among public. The shoe never misses the target, it always hits the Bull's eye. It gets more media coverage than any other forms of protest and people discuss about it with glee. The video of the shoe thrown at Bush became the most searched for video on YouTube and the incident also led to the development of various flash games.&lt;br /&gt;The chances of punishment are also less because, in order to show how he is great the leader is, he generally tries to cover up his humiliation and forgives the person. The Iraqi journalist who had thrown the shoe at Bush had been sentenced for three years in prison, but now the term has been reduced to one year. In India, not only Jarnail Singh has been 'forgiven' by Mr. Chidambaram, he has also got offers for contesting polls from various political parties. Both these journalists have been hailed as a hero.&lt;br /&gt;In terms of political ramifications, the shoe thrown at Mr. Chidambaram has so far been the most effective. It cost Jagdish Tytler and Sajjan Kumar their Lok Sabha nominations.&lt;br /&gt;And, the time consumed and the cost  of throwing shoe is minimal compared to other kinds of protest such as organising rallies, bandhs, hunger strike, etc. You just need an ordinary shoe and no extra wastage of time.&lt;br /&gt;So, why is it so effective?&lt;br /&gt;First of all, any object thrown by a common man at a prominent leader is a symbol for the expression of anger against the leader and the policies of his government.&lt;br /&gt;Secondly, it's an object worn at our feet. When a shoe is thrown, it shows the disregard and disgust for the leader. Its a symbol for one's disrespect towards the person. However much the leader may try to brush the incident aside, the point is conveyed to everyone.&lt;br /&gt;Thirdly, it's an act performed by one among the masses, a journalist or a protestor, people can relate more with it individually.&lt;br /&gt;The more prominent the leader, the better. In the case of Bush, who is infamous around the globe, the news of the incident spread to every part of the world. &lt;br /&gt;Shoe throwing in nothing less than a show stopper!&lt;br /&gt;However, the effect will diminish because of over-use. In order to maintain the novelty of such a form of protest, people must keep improvising. For a start, people must start hitting the targets.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/381411073419276872-6569589637398967150?l=somethingisfishy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/feeds/6569589637398967150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=381411073419276872&amp;postID=6569589637398967150' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/381411073419276872/posts/default/6569589637398967150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/381411073419276872/posts/default/6569589637398967150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/2009/04/new-form-of-protest.html' title='Sho(w)e Stopper'/><author><name>kay gee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04038428374057302291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/SOuEkJG76aI/AAAAAAAAADw/7kHu2fiWX6o/S220/n539795486_3910896_245.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/SeBZZ0O-LiI/AAAAAAAAAHI/fH7gtdEhjfI/s72-c/Shoe+thrown+at+Bush.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-381411073419276872.post-8636394212446632201</id><published>2009-03-13T22:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T07:41:40.934-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We Indians</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: courier new; color: rgb(102, 0, 204);"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt;ts been a while since Ive written a post. I admit, I am not good at writing long posts or at expressing myself for that matter. At this point, I have no idea what I would or should write about, which is why the title is still empty.&lt;br /&gt;Let me pick random news stories and comment on them.&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, there was a story on the front page of TOI saying - '&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Is Sehwag now the world's best batsman?&lt;/span&gt;' The problem with Indian media and many Indians is that we are always so ready to jump to conclusions. What is the deal about crowning a cricketer as the best? Sehwag is a good batsman but very inconsistent, and if you ask me I would rate Gambhir higher.&lt;br /&gt;A few weeks back, after India had lost the two T20 matches, media and many people started doubting India's succesful run in the past and whether they can succeed on New Zealand pitches.&lt;br /&gt;Oh please! Give them some space. Any rational person would have waited to see a couple of more matches before making a conclusive remark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;India have, by the way, thumped New Zealand in the one-dayers that followed the T20s comprehensively.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many people wrote Dhoni and Yuvraj off saying they can't perform on pitches abroad. But, they went on to play some invaluable innings and prove the critics wrong.&lt;br /&gt;Well, masala news headlines titillate the readers and thus, sell.&lt;br /&gt;Watch India TV sometime and you would know what I'm talking about. Majority of us would criticise the kind of news being shown there but would still watch it (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Phir bhi Dil hai Hindustani..&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;We Indians are like that. We love giving our opinions on every issue irrespective of the amount of knowledge we might have on the subject. Watch a cricket match with friends and you would see people making the finest observations, suggesting what a batsman or bowler should've done instead of making that silly mistake. Bets are placed and emotions run high. If India wins we celebrate it as a victory of our own, despite knowing that the cricketers earn in crores for playing and we're not going to get a penny by wasting our time.&lt;br /&gt;It's no secret that cricket is the slowest game and the most time consuming (read: wasting) too. Still, we just sit idly for hours and enjoy the game. After every bowl is bowled, we enjoy the bowler's slow walk to the start of his run-up, rubbing the ball in between, chit chatting with the guy at mid-off and then running back to bowl the next bowl. And then the minute long interval in between overs. We love lying back idly on our couch and watch all that.&lt;br /&gt;But the thing is that we forgive and forget. Lose the World Cup and you'd find everybody from a paan-waallah to an office-goer cursing the players, but win a three match series after that and there you are, back as our heroes!&lt;br /&gt;We forget the sins committed by our politicians and still re-elect them on seeing a happy gesture by them. Remember the furore against reservations? And yet, we might still re-elect the party that implemented it. And mind it, it didnt happen decades ago. It happened only a couple of years back. How many of us still remember the cases such as the brutal Nithari killings, Jessica Lall murder, BMW case, Bofors? These are all major sensational headlines of the last decade of the 20th century. Not too long ago. Most of us have forgotten, if not forgiven. The Satyam case has already started to fade from memory.&lt;br /&gt;We dont have a bad memory, its just that we are a very optimistic bunch of people. Infact, many surveys do agree with me here. Even during this time of recession where so many people are either getting their wages cut or losing their jobs, we are still the most optimistic and hopeful.&lt;br /&gt;Economics depends a lot on expectations, and I hope this nature of ours will help us combat recession better than most countries.&lt;br /&gt;Signing off, proud to be an Indian!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/381411073419276872-8636394212446632201?l=somethingisfishy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/feeds/8636394212446632201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=381411073419276872&amp;postID=8636394212446632201' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/381411073419276872/posts/default/8636394212446632201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/381411073419276872/posts/default/8636394212446632201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/2009/03/we-indians.html' title='We Indians'/><author><name>kay gee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04038428374057302291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/SOuEkJG76aI/AAAAAAAAADw/7kHu2fiWX6o/S220/n539795486_3910896_245.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-381411073419276872.post-3300921506787555866</id><published>2008-04-06T09:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T09:59:14.480-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Artwork IV, and some philosophy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/R_j6FxVGPbI/AAAAAAAAABQ/nQ_lesBJ28I/s1600-h/100_2357.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 416px; height: 264px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/R_j6FxVGPbI/AAAAAAAAABQ/nQ_lesBJ28I/s320/100_2357.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186169947965242802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not a person who makes drawings often. I don't feel like drawing most of the times largely because it is very time consuming. &lt;br /&gt;So, when do I feel like drawing? Its a very difficult question. From whatever experience I've had till now, I think its either when I'm too happy or too sad. When I'm too happy, I tend to go crazy. So, its a nice way to dissipate that energy. And when I'm down, it helps me feel good. I wonder what the case is with the other people who draw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About this particular artwork, my reference was a National Geographic photo. The scene is set in British Columbia, Canada. I took an instant liking to the freshness in this photograph. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Infact I've a certain version about this picture which goes as follows - The first girl(from the left) is leaning ahead. I guess she is the most independent among the three and doesn't like being nagged too much. The girl in the middle likes both her friends equally while the third is very affectionate in nature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, I again used oil pastels and some pencil colours to make this painting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/381411073419276872-3300921506787555866?l=somethingisfishy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/feeds/3300921506787555866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=381411073419276872&amp;postID=3300921506787555866' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/381411073419276872/posts/default/3300921506787555866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/381411073419276872/posts/default/3300921506787555866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/2008/04/artwork-iv.html' title='Artwork IV, and some philosophy'/><author><name>kay gee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04038428374057302291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/SOuEkJG76aI/AAAAAAAAADw/7kHu2fiWX6o/S220/n539795486_3910896_245.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/R_j6FxVGPbI/AAAAAAAAABQ/nQ_lesBJ28I/s72-c/100_2357.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-381411073419276872.post-3695984371556100673</id><published>2008-02-23T20:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-24T08:45:05.726-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Artwork III</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/R8DzmGlzuvI/AAAAAAAAAA8/gJ2PtSHGoDk/s1600-h/new1+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 385px; height: 281px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/R8DzmGlzuvI/AAAAAAAAAA8/gJ2PtSHGoDk/s320/new1+002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170400208151100146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/R8DzmWlzuwI/AAAAAAAAABE/NekFmfSXFEY/s1600-h/fhff+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 384px; height: 263px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/R8DzmWlzuwI/AAAAAAAAABE/NekFmfSXFEY/s320/fhff+001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170400212446067458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my first move away from potraits. Making this stuff is so different from potraits. One doesn't need to get the scaling(of the face) right, so it saves time with the pencil. Infact you can totally avoid using a pencil. But then, there is a lot of stuff to do with colours, so overall it takes almost the same time.&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to continue with pastels for now. They are so much fun! I plan to mix up dry pastels with wet colours in my next paintings.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/381411073419276872-3695984371556100673?l=somethingisfishy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/feeds/3695984371556100673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=381411073419276872&amp;postID=3695984371556100673' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/381411073419276872/posts/default/3695984371556100673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/381411073419276872/posts/default/3695984371556100673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/2008/02/artwork-iii.html' title='Artwork III'/><author><name>kay gee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04038428374057302291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/SOuEkJG76aI/AAAAAAAAADw/7kHu2fiWX6o/S220/n539795486_3910896_245.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/R8DzmGlzuvI/AAAAAAAAAA8/gJ2PtSHGoDk/s72-c/new1+002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-381411073419276872.post-5611492818861056275</id><published>2007-12-31T19:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-24T08:46:00.788-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Artwork II</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/R3mz6m1ssfI/AAAAAAAAAA0/GktIyHkPZEI/s1600-h/gen5+142%60.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 381px; height: 368px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/R3mz6m1ssfI/AAAAAAAAAA0/GktIyHkPZEI/s320/gen5+142%60.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150345468314431986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;This is my last artwork for the year 2007.&lt;br /&gt;It took a lot of time for me to get the sketch of this potrait right because my reference was a very small pic from a magazine.&lt;br /&gt;My next potrait will be that of a friend. I hope to move on to water colours soon and make stuff other than potraits in the year 2008. Lets See!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Happy New Year Everyone!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/381411073419276872-5611492818861056275?l=somethingisfishy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/feeds/5611492818861056275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=381411073419276872&amp;postID=5611492818861056275' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/381411073419276872/posts/default/5611492818861056275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/381411073419276872/posts/default/5611492818861056275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/2007/12/artwork-ii.html' title='Artwork II'/><author><name>kay gee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04038428374057302291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/SOuEkJG76aI/AAAAAAAAADw/7kHu2fiWX6o/S220/n539795486_3910896_245.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/R3mz6m1ssfI/AAAAAAAAAA0/GktIyHkPZEI/s72-c/gen5+142%60.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-381411073419276872.post-2233744500576541871</id><published>2007-11-11T00:32:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-12T06:37:49.920-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ye Moocho Wala Kaun Hai?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/Rza-a_4hfRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/G4o674EqtUo/s1600-h/new_look_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 171px; height: 237px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/Rza-a_4hfRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/G4o674EqtUo/s200/new_look_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131498196469644562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is not what I look like right now. It was just an casual idea, and the response received so far has been nice and unexpected ;).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of the comments so far:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DM&lt;/span&gt; : &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Arey Baba Ye Moochho Waala Kaun Hai...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Phani&lt;/span&gt; : &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;offo..hi funda mustaches boss!! diwali special aa? ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Stud.Arun&lt;/span&gt; : &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;U r a trend setter boss. god wonly try the one going up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Lolo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; : Veerappan Lag rahe ho. Lekin, better than before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Vyshu&lt;/span&gt; : &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;must say ! nice pic  :) .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ranjit&lt;/span&gt; : &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;u look hotter now DUDE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Ravi &lt;/span&gt;: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;are veerappan ke bache.. tum jangal se kab bhag ke aaye..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Abhra&lt;/span&gt; : &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;sexy pic man&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Danda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; : &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;wah KG kya photo hai,sahi mein kyun nahi rakhta aisi mooch....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Rahul &lt;/span&gt;: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Mooch achcha lag raha hai!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny! I am actually thinking seriously about getting this new look. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/381411073419276872-2233744500576541871?l=somethingisfishy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/feeds/2233744500576541871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=381411073419276872&amp;postID=2233744500576541871' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/381411073419276872/posts/default/2233744500576541871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/381411073419276872/posts/default/2233744500576541871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/2007/11/moochhon-waala.html' title='Ye Moocho Wala Kaun Hai?'/><author><name>kay gee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04038428374057302291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/SOuEkJG76aI/AAAAAAAAADw/7kHu2fiWX6o/S220/n539795486_3910896_245.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/Rza-a_4hfRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/G4o674EqtUo/s72-c/new_look_2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-381411073419276872.post-2911358874023716637</id><published>2007-10-27T05:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-12-31T19:51:16.663-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ArtWork I</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/RyMwuM2oR5I/AAAAAAAAAAU/Es-DJtwHWwk/s1600-h/100_1588.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 377px; height: 283px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/RyMwuM2oR5I/AAAAAAAAAAU/Es-DJtwHWwk/s400/100_1588.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125994371160229778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/RyMwuc2oR6I/AAAAAAAAAAc/uPHI5lz0jOM/s1600-h/100_1286.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 280px; height: 368px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/RyMwuc2oR6I/AAAAAAAAAAc/uPHI5lz0jOM/s400/100_1286.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125994375455197090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/RyMwvM2oR7I/AAAAAAAAAAk/zJOWTjhCRIg/s1600-h/IMG_0294.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/RyMwvM2oR7I/AAAAAAAAAAk/zJOWTjhCRIg/s400/IMG_0294.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125994388340098994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/381411073419276872-2911358874023716637?l=somethingisfishy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/feeds/2911358874023716637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=381411073419276872&amp;postID=2911358874023716637' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/381411073419276872/posts/default/2911358874023716637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/381411073419276872/posts/default/2911358874023716637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/2007/10/blog-post.html' title='ArtWork I'/><author><name>kay gee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04038428374057302291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/SOuEkJG76aI/AAAAAAAAADw/7kHu2fiWX6o/S220/n539795486_3910896_245.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/RyMwuM2oR5I/AAAAAAAAAAU/Es-DJtwHWwk/s72-c/100_1588.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-381411073419276872.post-4853852563289315810</id><published>2007-10-23T05:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-23T05:55:34.844-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Recent Profile Visitor</title><content type='html'>It rarely happens that there is a girl's name in my &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Recent Profile Visitors&lt;/span&gt;. Even if it does happen, Its  because I had visited her profile before. Even more rare is to find the same name in &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Recent profile visitors &lt;/span&gt;again&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;and again. Surprised, I decided to scrap her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me&lt;/span&gt; : &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Saw your name in my Recent Profile Visitors. Do I know you&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Her&lt;/span&gt; : &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Yes, sure I do. Aren't u the one who visits my sister often?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;............. Wtf?! , I Thought!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;: Unh? I Don't think so. Who's your sister anyway?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Strange things do happen on orkut. She's from a city I haven't been to for years.&lt;br /&gt;I'm Yet to hear a response from her. Now, who do i go for, her or her sister?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/381411073419276872-4853852563289315810?l=somethingisfishy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/feeds/4853852563289315810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=381411073419276872&amp;postID=4853852563289315810' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/381411073419276872/posts/default/4853852563289315810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/381411073419276872/posts/default/4853852563289315810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somethingisfishy.blogspot.com/2007/10/recent-profile-visitor.html' title='Recent Profile Visitor'/><author><name>kay gee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04038428374057302291</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FzMANrmlOnQ/SOuEkJG76aI/AAAAAAAAADw/7kHu2fiWX6o/S220/n539795486_3910896_245.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry></feed>
