A bit of a wasted week, the last one. Did nothing of any significance. Except perhaps recording a cover of one of the greatest songs of all time with the G-Group. We did a very good job, I think. Most of you must have got the file by e-mail. If you haven't, it's your loss. Hunt around till you find it. There's no telling how much an old G-Group recording might be worth a few years from now.
Since I've gotten started on this, I'll give you the whole story.

The sky was dark and overcast. Or so I thought. Nobody bothered to check. We were all in Atul's room. Artists starved of inspiration until we were on the verge of cannibalism.

The greatest artists find inspiration in the most unlikely places. We found ours in somebody who I gather lives a stone's throw away from where we were. I suppose it was no wonder that it was Atul who came up with the idea taking into consideration our muse.

Ofcourse, Taliban Alla Alla is one hard song to cover. In fact, I believe Queen recorded 'Another One Bites the Dust' after failing miserably in their attempts to cover Taliban Alla Alla. But we were unfazed by all that history.

We set to work with a vengeance. The ever dependable Deepash needed no time to plant himself in front of Atul's computer and start playing NFSU2. The rest of us got working on our looks. The fact that we were covering a Puneeth Rajkumar song was hammering away at the back of our minds. The style mattered more than anything else.

We didn't encounter too many problems. Deepash lost a couple of races and Vikram Seth lost some more hair but apart from that, there were no major setbacks. Finding the lyrics took some time but as we all know very well, Gaurav works wonders with computers and blondes. Soon, I was getting Shashanka out of bed to read the Kannada lyrics out to me so I could write it down in good ol' English.

Instruments on, hoods on, shades on, attitude on and we were ready to begin. A few trial runs. We did a collective screw up the first time. I screwed up the second time. Third was a keeper. Missed hi-fives everywhere, the champagne flowing, Deepash celebrating a third place finish, me rushing to answer Nature's insistent call, Anoop already answering it, euphoria all around.

Atul wrote out the credits. Here they are:
The G-Group :

Lead Vocals (Puneeth Rajkumars themselves) : Amar Simha, and Shashanka

Backup Vocals (The chicas with the "come on, dance, dance, dance and the aaaeeeee"): Anoop Menon and Deepak Nambiar

At the lead guitar : Atul Agarwal

At the backup guitar : Deepak Nambiar

Technical Support (the man who actually recorded this) : Gaurav Jain

Chief Mentor (the guy with the "cooling glasses" hanging around keyboard) : Anil Agarwal

And playing NFS U2 on my computer while this masterpiece was being created : Deepash Jain

..and they lived happily ever after.

70 off 69 balls? What's so great about that? Duryodhana's dad made 100(kids) from 2 balls.
-Deepak
(LOL!)

Halfway through my exams and I'm already exhausted. Additional English tomorrow, so I have a day's respite before being thrown back into hell. Management is going to be one hard exam to crack. Enough about exams! But I can't seem to find anything else to talk about.

I can hear my mom complaining that my dad forgot her birthday the year they got married. I've inherited my dad's poor memory for birthdays. They're watching 'Good Morning Vietnam' I think. I want to watch it too, but I have to study. Sigh. Robin Williams is one of my favourite actors. Dad'll probably fall asleep in the middle of the movie. He doesn't like watching movies at a stretch. I'm just the opposite. You can't distract my attention from a good movie if you stick popcorn up my nostrils and/or spray my face with coke.

After a long vacation spent primarily gazing at the tube, my sister's reunited with her books. So she's back to making me feel guilty about not studying. So I shall go do precisely that. Hope 10:20 isn't too late to start studying for additional english. Hell, thats still better than yesterday when I watched 'The School of Rock' despite having economics today. Very nice movie though.

I am so looking forward to Friday. My countdown meter reads two days. Hope it isn't malfunctioning.

I don't see comments pouring in by the dozens.
Has my fanclub shut down??

At the bottom of the front page of today's Asian Age were the results of a worldwide poll to determine the sexiest countries in the world. India came in second (after Brazil).

Now, I know what you must be thinking. But, honestly, I can't take too much credit for it.
Well, maybe a little, say 80%, give or take 5%.

Now, one sexy person can't single-handedly carry an entire country to the top of the sexiness charts. So, I'm sure there are a couple more people who deserve some credit for playing their parts in this monumental achievement - namely my barber Sanjoy (who prefers to be called a hairstylist) and my barber's apprentice Dhananjoy (who prefers to be called a hairstylist's apprentice), bongs who migrated to laidback Bangalore when the going got too tough at IIT Kharagpur. Take a bow guys.

This latest accomplishment is one in a lengthy list (scroll down to my earlier posts for more) of things I have done for my country. But, as anyone who's studied at an IIT and also chauffered Laloo Prasad Yadav (believe me, a lot of people have done both) and then won an Oscar (well, thats taking it a little too far) is well aware, I am a patriot and expect nothing in return for the services I have rendered to my country. So, I guess it is only natural that I should expect to be awarded the Bharat Ratna next year. And perhaps Sanjoy and Dhananjoy can get the Padma Bhushan and Padma Vibhushan. Lots of goodies coming our way, baby.

I've made a conscious effort on this post to cut down on the usage of the words 'pissed' and 'bloody', words that I have been using a little too much recently. I should be pissed with myself for letting down the english language thus, but who the bloody hell cares?! That way, every bloody person I know should be pissed with him/herself for using the two bloody words too bloody much.

I'm really pissed off about the serious dearth of holidays in college. Just 2 bloody days for dussehra!!

Everyday I look at my sister in front of the TV from morning to night(while I sit with my books) and I start wondering if we've exchanged lives. Scary thought. The only consolation is that Bangalore's other colleges are no less stingy when it comes to handing out holidays.

I'm beginning to realise that nobody is interested in the mundane routine of my life. Hell, I don't give a damn myself! When you visit the blog of a brilliant writer, a genius poet, a masterful artist, a revolutionary thinker and a virtuoso musician all in one, you're not looking to know how many times a day he brushes his teeth or if he owns a pink shirt. What you do want to know, are his views, ideas, thoughts, feelings about a variety of topics (which may include 'Powerpuff Girls : The Movie' and/or 'can airport metal detectors detect Berkelium?', no doubt topics with a lot of scope for interesting discussion). In short, what I want to say is that I don't want to bore my readers by documenting my everyday life here. My thoughts are far too valuable to remain with me. Mankind should benefit from the superior specimens of the human race who crop up somewhere or the other every now and then. My shoulders are weighed down with an enormous responsibility towards my fellow creatures. I guess Uncle Ben was right when he said "With great power comes great responsibility". Only thing I don't quite understand is what Peter Parker was doing in that scene instead of me.

Nonsense poetry is pretty easy to write...

I saw a boy
In the capital of Illinois
He was playing with a toy
He seemed so coy
But when you tried to annoy
Him, he would employ
A decoy
To secretly deploy
A missile attack on Troy
What a devious ploy
By a deceptively coy boy

Bad start to the week. Missed the first class on Monday morning. It was supposed to be an economics period, but as it turned out, we had accounts. So I bunked accounts. The bloody teacher loves picking on me. He walks upto me practically every class and either asks me really stupid questions or checks my book. He also loves commenting on my not-so-exemplary attendance record. For some reason, the fact that I joined college late doesn't seem to register in that thick skulled head of his, no matter how many times I try reminding him.

Boredom has ignited in me a creative flame that I can't seem to put off. Here's some evidence.

Standing under an oak
I met a bloke
Wearing a cloak
He offered me coke
I said I was broke
He said "don't joke"
And began to smoke
And as he spoke
He started to choke
And stroke
His throat and poke
Me hard and thus I awoke
From a weird dream about a bloke
(applause)

Frankly, I haven't the least inclination to blog right now, but I have nothing better to do. Its pathetic, I know. Normally, I'd while away the time playing pocket billiards or listening to Britney Spears songs, but my pants are too tight and my best of Britney collection is lost.

I think I did more grammar today than the rest of my life combined. 80 odd @#$#ing pages. All for 10 measly internal assessment marks. Boring. So obviously, I tried to spice up the process by trying to make my answers as silly as possible.
Eg. in a stupid stupid crossword -
Clue 1. not wet(3) - wetter (2 letters crammed into each of the 3 boxes)
Clue 2. drama(4) - six feet under (the letters 'er' connecting the two clues)
Clue 3. furious(5) - pissed off
etc.etc..
In the middle of all that I think rediscovered my perv side. For once, I was making dirty jokes, not just laughing at them. It was damn cool.

Yesterday, I returned home eager to watch the second half of the Super Series Australia vs Rest of the World match. Imagine my surprise when I saw the Rest of the World line-up - Sangakkara, Ganguly, Ganguly, Ganguly, Ganguly, Ganguly, Flintoff, Pollock, Murali, Vettori, Akhtar. And then the substitution resulted in another Ganguly being introduced. Way to go, World XI! But seriously, what a bloody disappointment! Hope tomorrow will be different.