1

Yhoooooooo...theyre over...I feel free. But what a paper it was....man. the worst iv given here in kgp..... anyway the past is past... looking to the future and another post....

2

Partial differential equations: One papaer that i was'nt able to finish...partly coz i wasted a lot of time trying to sneak answers from here and there (without much success of course..)

3

Algo did have something in store, a lot in fact...man it was a harrowing experience...i hope i never have to go through somethin like that again.... but then again...there are endsems...:((((((

4

Discrete maths: the paper could'nt have been more discreet (the spelling is correct). I felt myself being broken up into discrete pieces for the entire two hours....Seems like most of the others were feeling the same way too.... What does algo have in store??

5

Engineering Economy Costing And Accounting This was the first exam that i gave in Vikramshila since the first semester (previously i'd been stuck S-302..those whovs been there know how it felt like )....anywauy the paper was easy and i felt i had done pretty well, that is until i made my way outside the examination hall and had the misfortune of running straight into a "paper discussion" you might say. And down came all my hopes of a decent grade..... Tomorrow i have discrete maths, and i know about as much about the subject as the man in the street....So you can expect a post dripping with self loathing tomorrow. Until then....

Laugh your brains out....

Here's something that i lifted from a friend's blog. It was not actually written by her. She had also lifted it from somewhere noone has claimed it to be his so far. In honor of the writer who wrote this i decided to give him as much publicity as possible. So read on and have a laugh..... ****************************** The Travails of Single South Indian men of conservative upbringing" or "Why we don't get any..." Yet another action packed weekend in Mumbai, full of fun, frolic and introspection. I have learnt many things. For example having money when none of your friends have any is as good as not having any. And after spending much time in movie theatres, cafes and restaurants I have gathered many insights into the endless monotony that is the love life of south Indian men. What I have unearthed is most disheartening. Disheartening because comprehension of these truths will not change our status anytime soon. However there is also cause for joy. We never stood a chance anyway. What loads the dice against virile, gallant, well educated, good looking, sincere mallus and tams? (Kandus were once among us, but Bangalore has changed all that.) Our futures are shot to hell as soon as our parents bestow upon us names that are anything but alluring. I cannot imagine a more foolproof way of making sure the child remains single till classified advertisements or that maternal uncle in San Francisco thinks otherwise. Name him "Parthasarathy Venkatachalapthy" and his inherent capability to combat celibacy is obliterated before he could even talk. He will grow to be known as Partha. Before he knows, his smart, seductively named northy classmates start calling him Paratha. No woman in their right minds will go anyway near poor Parthasarathy. His investment banking job doesn't help either. His employer loves him though. He has no personal life you see. By this time the Sanjay Singhs and Bobby Khans from his class have small businesses of their own and spend 60% of their lives in discos and pubs. The remaining 40% is spent coochicooing with leather and denim clad muses in their penthouse flats on Nepean Sea Road. Business is safely in the hands of the Mallu manager. After all with a name like Blossom Babykutty he cant use his 30000 salary anywhere. Blossom gave up on society when in school they automatically enrolled him for Cookery Classes. Along with all the girls. Yes my dear reader, nomenclature is the first nail in a coffin of neglect and hormonal pandemonium. In a kinder world they would just name the poor southern male child and throw him off the balcony. "Yes appa we have named him Goundamani..." THUD. Life would have been less kinder to him anyway. If all the women the Upadhyays, Kumars, Pintos and, god forbid, the Sens and Roys in the world have met were distributed amongst the Arunkumars, Vadukuts and Chandramogans we would all be merry casanovas with 3 to 4 pretty things at each arm. But alas it is not to be. Of course the south Indian women have no such issues. They have names which are like sweet poetry to the ravenous northie hormone tanks. Picture this: "Welcome, and this is my family. This is my daughter Poorni (what a sweet name!!) and my son Ponnalagusamy (er.. hello..).." Cyanide would not be fast enough for poor Samy. Nothing Samy does will help him. He can pump iron, drive fast cars and wear snazzy clothes, but against a braindead dude called Arjun Singhania he has as much chance of getting any as a Benedictine Monk in a Saharan Seminary. Couple this with the other failures that have plagued our existence. Any attempt at spiking hair with gel fails miserably. In an hour I have a crown of greasy, smelly fibrous mush. My night ends there. However the northy just has to scream "Wakaw!!!" and you have to peel the women off him to let him breathe. In a disco while we can manage the medium hip shake with neck curls, once the Bhangra starts pumping we are as fluid as cement and gravel in a mixer. Karan Kapoor or Jatin Thapar in the low cut jeans with chaddi strap showing and see through shirt throws his elbows perfectly, the cynosure of all attention. The women love a man who digs pasta and fondue. But why do they not see the simple pleasures of curd rice and coconut chutney? When poor Senthilnathan opens his tiffin box in the office lunch room his female coworkers just dissappear when they see the tamarind rice and poppadums. The have all rematerialised around Bobby Singh who has ordered in Pizza and Garlic bread. (And they have the gall to talk of foreign origin.) How can a man like me brought up in roomy lungis and oversized polyester shirts ever walk the walk in painted on jeans (that makes a big impression) and neon yellow rib hugging t shirts? All I can do is don my worn "comfort fit" jeans and floral shirt. Which is pretty low on the "Look at me lady" scale, just above fig leaf skirt and feather headgear a la caveman, and a mite below Khakhi Shirt over a red t shirt and baggy khakhi pants and white trainers a la Rajni in "Badsha". Sociologically too the tam or mallu man is severely sidelined. An average tam stud stays in a house with, on average, three grandparents, three sets of uncles and aunts, and over 10 children. Not the ideal atmosphere for some intimacy and some full throated "WHOSE YOUR DADDY!!!" at the 3 in the morning. The mallu guy of course is almost always in the gulf working alone on some onshore oil rig in the desert. Rheumatic elbows me thinks. Alas dear friends we are not just meant to set the nights on fire. We are just not built to be "The Ladies Man". The black man has hip hop, the white man has rock, the southie guy only has idlis and tomato rasam or an NRI account in South Indian Bank Ernakulam Branch. Alas as our destiny was determined in one fell swoop by our nomenclature, so will our future be. A nice arranged little love story. But the agony of course does not end there. On the first night, as the stud sits on his bed finally within touching distance and whispers his sweet desires into her delectable ear, she blushes, turns around and whispers back "But amma has said only on second saturdays..." In one last effort here we attractive young men have taken on alter egos which may interest some of you women: 1. Gautam Kumar Raja, will now be known as Joshua Perreira 2. Sidin Sunny Vadukut, henceforth will be known as Dev Chopra 3. Ashwath Venkataraman is now Vijay Desai 4. Sudarshan Ramakrishnan no more, from now he is Barath Sharma 5. Gautam Chandrasekharan will now respond to Alyque Shah Do mail me any time for a meeting with one of the above. One week notice if Italian or Chinese food is involved, or if the individual is expected to dance. **************** P.S. I am also a south indian by birth (and single too) and although i found this piece a little bit too exaggerated, i take nothing away from the writer.I never had to go through any of this (probably i lived most of my lif in delhi, in a much more liberated atmosphere...)

6

Economics: studied from borrowed notes, non recommended books, e books which were not meant for the subject...u get the drift...... day of the exam...woke up at 10 after i set 5 different alarms for 7 am (and that too thanks to a power cut)...hurried through the rest of the notes. Batchies came through with despondent faces after their first exam in the morning session and that did nothing to help my mood. Reached the exam hall 20 mins early hoping to get a prime vantage position. Apparently 150 other students already had the same idea (damn!!!i should have realized!) and so i had to settle for a seat in the last row alongside a few other nincompoops who had also arrived late. Announcement 1 from grouchy invigilator : Pls put all ur mobile phones on the table.a dozen phones appeared. Announcement 2: Please put all your phones on the table, anybody found with a phone after this will be thrown out from the hall. another dozen phones appeared. Announcement 3: I assume there are no more phones??? Another four phones appeared. he probably realized then that it was pointless. the papers were distributed, and i found myself at an amalgam of a zillion other languages other than english. I gathered myself and attacked the paper. It was during these 2 hrs that i realized how valuable my creative writing skills were. the prof will probably have a heart attack wen he reads my paper. but tht's for later. i have two days now, to do what i must (read finish friends season 2 and 2001 a space odyssey) I kno..I'm screwed..

I'm Back!!!

After a long hiatus, i'm finally back with another post for all those who have been patiently waiting (i know there is'nt anyone like that, but hey i had to start somewhere) Today i fell free...i don't know why..maybe because op is finally over..mayb because i'm just light headed....i can't pinpoint it. the last few days have been hectic...backcbreaking schedules (which included drams practice, aquatics, elocution, and classes to boot) iv rarely had time to stop and think, let alone put my energies (or what remained of them) into writing. I got into the scholars avenue reporting team (our campus newpaper ). I regret not joining any societies in my first year, but i;m trying to make up for it now. A new found interest in dramaticsalso led me to land the lead role in a play (which we are performing tomorrow...wish me luck!!) So tomorrow then..