Tuesday, 27 October 2009

Beautiful Words

No breakfast would have quite assuaged that tremendous hunger, which I had built up after a the healthy hikes of 25-10, as did those two words. Normally, after that verbalization, feeling rather chagrined, I'd have run for cover and sat myself in a seat where few would recognize me. But today was different; I reveled in that splendour and basked in that greater music of which my words were but a part. It felt good to swear again.

It is only lately that I have realized, people often mistake a genteel countenance and a civilized demeanour for spinelessness. Putting things into proper perspective again, then becomes the paramount task. Abuses have evolved over the years and expletives have garnered greater efficacy. But constant usage of these oaths as nouns, verbs, adverbs, conjunctions and prepositions have blunted the tips of otherwise sharp shafts. It is then only apt then, that my years of fast were broken by a phrase which caused so much turmoil on the listener's face.

Profanity, though part of everyday parlance, gathers great power when used where it must be. The lesser you use it in everyday life, the better you feel after hurling these savage words. Though, swearing requires little practice if any, it is always useful to keep certain points in mind.

1. Language of choice: This may be a crucial decision and a vital factor determining the effect of an abuse. It is important to use the language you are most comfortable in. While I prefer good old English to Hindi and even Tamil, one may choose from a myriad tongues with German and Arabic being favourites.

2. Communication: While swearing, you must never forget that it is, after all, a form of communication. And communication is listener oriented. So if the listener doesn't understand what you are saying, you have failed miserably in your attempt. Another reason why Tamil or, for that matter, German is not suited for Roorkee. Getting the semantics across is probably the most important task.

3. The Time Factor: Often, you procrastinate. And then, it's too late. Or so you think.
Revenge is a dish best served cold. So, the later your response, it's probably better. And besides, you catch the target unawares. So, it is advised that the user delay his response as much as possible for maximum effect. Studies have shown the seven second deferred expletive causing greatest havoc.
So after the guy accused me of breaking the line in the mess, my response was probably greatly amplified as I spoke only after I had ladled enough sabji into my plate.

4. Kinesics: Your face and body must reflect what you say. So it's best the abuser pauses (see above) to gather his emotions and then let them all out in one short burst. For longer abuses, it is proposed that the person take in a deep breath, so as to not run all out in mid sentence. Fingers, elbows, eyebrows, knees etc. all play indispensable roles in a good abuse. Props in the forms of emblems and illustrators may also be used; Eg. Chains, Sticks, Sarias etc.

5. Proxemics: The importance of distance while blaspheming cannot be underestimated. It is essential that the listener gets the entire effect of what you are saying. However, if the target is much larger than the abuser, it is advised to increase the separation by a few more feet. If this 'large' listener is much faster as well, it may be required to rethink your urge to insult.
I fell short on this front the other day, as I was a more than a few feet away from the listener.

6. Reason: While most abuses are preceded by motive, it is not mandatory that this sequence of events is followed. Often, a motive arises after the first abuse is made. This pattern is often great fun.

The above points are not rigid rules but a flexible framework which guide the reader to better and greater heights in this industry. You may choose to practice here... or better 'here'. I hope these were useful tips in what is, after all, a vast subject. Kindly do let me know the usefulness of the same. Any further suggestions on how to subdue the stuck up half-wit are also welcomed.

Monday, 12 October 2009

Rhyme or Reason

A class-time poem: The Shepherd (name being a shameless copy)

On the eastern slopes, as the sun did fade
Stood my dozen sheep and I
They grazed- content, in the hillock's shade
None of them escaped my eye.

They were mine- in their golden fleece
I watched them meander with smiles - benign
My only friends among the trees
When for company, I would pine.

I loved the beasts with all my heart
And will continue to love them still
But oft I wonder - "If we were apart -
Would my sheep be happy still?"

The very thought fills me with dread
Love yearns to be reciprocated, yet -
As they walk happy, and far-away tread
They will, for love, remain ever in debt.

Love - I know, is to give and give
And expect nothing back.

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Thursday, 8 October 2009

Madman's Lull

As the three lines on the top of this page indicate, this blog, or any blog for that matter, as you ought to have realized by now, is but a reflection of the author's life, acts and opinions. A reflection rather distorted by constant recall, mellower or sharper; but a reflection, nevertheless. So this month long lull on the blog-o-sphere directly translates to a long and painful calm in the real world.

Being in one of those ineffectual states where one cannot do anything even if he wanted to, I have watched rather quietly, the reordering of the right-side blogroll. Even as he resurfaced, a certain knotted-mind was keen to observe the compulsive need of a blogger to keep track of everything post-worthy. Well, let me tell you - I was keen too. But try as I might, nothing! For once, I thought there was nothing blog-worthy. These tranquillized states are, luckily, few and far in between, but when they come, they hit you hard.

Pessimistic, I have been before, but seldom have I breached certain boundaries. So I advise the weak-hearted to proceed no more! Because the story of the lull begins with a stark realization, which strangely (and thankfully) has eluded me two-and-a-half years.

I reached R as a rather ambitious kid with (what I thought then) rather pragmatic dreams of achieving great feats during my four years in a college which then boasted of so much history. I had no unrealistic expectations and I was probably one of the most content fucchas in those days, beaming away at the green environs and the dazzling dome. Joining a handful of groups and making sincere endeavors to exit the wonderful realms of Metallurgy, yours truly was on course for greatness. Or so he thought.

Soon the rose-tinted glasses faded into a rather depressing brown and the brisk walk became a sapping drag. One wonders what changed during these three years though it is obvious that such periods of retrospection are but passing phases. All the same, what happened to that romantic who dreamed of being the master of all trades? Where are have those dreams been safely tucked away? Will he ever rediscover that lost zeal?

However content I am with the way I have gone about my responsibilities and initial commitments, something still eludes me. The void. Hence, that lull? I did get the branch change. I have done most things I wanted to do in college. But now, it all suddenly seems futile!

Call it an error of judgement or a madman's rant, but my initial discernment now seems rather irrational, faulted and unsubstantiated. The branch change only lead me to another branch I feel few emotions for. Classes which once held meaning have become hours for E-Book reading and correcting writings on desks. Professors who once carried words, if only so little, have now become mute puppets. And so many activities, I have been part of, so meekly crumble in front of the rudimentary 'How did it help me' question. It reminds me of that one question a certain condescending chap quotes every so often.

This great nothingness however gave me time to think. That - coupled with a week spent in Chennai and three great hours of conversation with a lovely lady aboard the IndiGo flight (which terminated in me asking her name) - may have just given me answers. The disgruntled youth who bounded south returned with rekindled hope. To give it another shot. And it seems to work.

Yesterday was probably the longest day in my R-life and I enjoyed being omnipresent on the campus. Call me weird, but I rather enjoyed being prised away from these computer based indulgences and similar irrelevancies. Work seemed to have become desirable once again. Today, attending just one class but listening to every word the prof taught was a new high. Albeit most words flew over my head, the simple pleasure of knowing that I still can 'listen' was great. I realized that, maybe, it is wrong to see what one gains from each and every action of his! Maybe you should just go on as long as you enjoy the process. And may be it's only fair that we give everything a chance.