One of the different things I have tried and only known to a couple of people is writing a novel! Yes, around the same time last year, I was busy thinking about the characters, the story and the suspense…..

Why I chose to write a novel? Well I try things which can get me popular don’t I? Novels are an easy way to shoot into fame, not only in college but whole India maybe. And as I was preparing for CAT, I thought this thing will help me with my verbal preparation. And I wanted to achieve something before my teenage ended (by May that is). But only when I started writing I realized how tough it is to get one page written properly. It easily took one hour at least and one full afternoon of thinking about the story to write a single page! This given the fact that I choose to write on college life (thats obvious! everyone tries to emulate Chetan Bhagat!) But I had a different theme to write about and must say I did a lot of research for some 10 days during the winter holidays on this subject. One of the things that encouraged me was that Dad was ready to sponsor Rs.50000 to publish the novel if I complete it. The enthusiasm remained throughout the holidays. I even registered an email id in the name of the novel for getting comments later(the name wont be revealed here!). But when I reached college, I couldn’t find time to write and over the days I just gave up :( I must thank my roomie here for readily accepting to spare his laptop for this purpose. When I read the pages today, I do feel nostalgic about the whole thing. Rest assured I will complete the novel someday!!!! Here is a peak into one of the pages, in fact the prologue…….. (my language had many errors!)

Silence gripped the courtroom as the Judge entered. Not a seat was left vacant in the audience. A group of lawyers were seated like in a round table conference. And all eyes were fixed on the young boy of about twenty, standing in the witness’s box. His face looked pale and lifeless. Only a blind person could have missed his overgrown beard. He was thin, fair, wore simple formals and there was no shine left in his eyes.

“Good evening, My Lord!” the prosecutor stood up. “I have been appointed by the state to be the prosecutor in this case. As we all know, this case has been the center of media attention recently and I hope everyone here realizes the importance the judgment of this case has in warning all others who dare attempt such a cruel crime in future…”

The young boy was not listening. His mind was preoccupied with something else. What have I got myself into? He saw the anxious faces of his parents in the first row of the audience. He could sense moisture in their eyes. Sorry dad! Sorry mom! And there she was, seated in the bench adjacent to that of his parents. The young girl, dressed elegantly as if she was attending a party, had a curious and innocent face. Bitch! It’s all because of you!

“My Lord!” the prosecutor continued, “here we have on the witness box, a boy who is a disgrace to the student community. Not only has he broken the bond of friendship but he has also demeaned the womanhood totally in a society that is fighting hard for their empowerment. This boy, Your Honor, is accused with charges of raping a student of his college….”

Silence prevailed…

Frederick Pilcher drew out his handkerchief and dabbed at his forehead.

‘You don’t think, John, that you might ultimately come to love Agnes Flack?’

‘I do not.’

‘Love frequently comes after marriage, i believe.’

‘So does suicide.’

_____________________________________________________________________



‘Why are you dressed like that?’ John Gooch uttered an exclamation. ‘I see it all. You think it will put you off your game.’

‘Some idea of that kind did occur to me,’ replied Frederick Pilcher, airily.

‘You fiend!’

‘Tut, tut, John. These are hard words to use to a friend.’

‘You are no friend of mine.’ …



… and he fixed Frederick Pilcher with a hypnotic gaze.

‘You are going to play well. You are going to play well. You -’

‘Stop it!’ cried Frederick Pilcher

‘You are going to play well. You are going -’ …



… John Gooch spun a coin. Frederick Pilcher called tails. The coin fell heads up.

‘Drive off, reptile,’ said Sidney McMurdo.



As John Gooch addressed his ball, he was aware of a strange sensation which he could not immediately analyse. It was only when, after waggling two or three times, he started to draw his club back that it flashed upon him that this strange sensation was confidence. For the first time in his life he seemed to have no doubt that the ball, well and truly struck, would travel sweetly down the middle of the freeway. And then the hideous truth dawned on him. His subconscious self had totally misunderstood the purport of his recent remarks and had got the whole thing nicely muddled up.



Much has been written of the subconscious self, and all that has been written goes to show that of all the thick-headed, blundering chumps who take everything they hear literally, it is the worst. Anybody of any intelligence would have realised that when John Gooch said, ‘You are going to play well,’ he was speaking to Frederick Pilcher; but his subconscious self had missed the point completely. It had heard John Gooch say, ‘You are going to play well,’ and it was seeing that he did so.

(The guy in the left was responsible for my arrear in the first sem — by developing C. I hate preogramming. Looks like a frigging psycho, doesn’t he?)



Hi … just like the previous post im again posting a link which i thoroughly enjoyed browsing through… It lists a whole lot of programming greats, or gods, maybe… ranging from the guy who invented C++ to the ubuntu founder, and believe it or not, most of them look like Maharishi Mahesh Yogi…. in short, they may perfectly fit the profile of a money-making godman in India.



The links are here : Part1 .. and Part2. Does being so clever mean you don’t have time to shave even?? Or being unshaved make you extremely brainy?? Ahem… We all hope the latter was true .. don’t we?? :) :)

I’m not an ajith fan, but i’m posting this because this is the first superstar movie to be re-made; and they have more or less done justice to the original by not changing the story, and also by presenting it in a way that would cater better to the expectations of today’s movie-goers, adding lots of heroism-enhancing camera angles (with slow motion), and an extraordinary dose of glamour. The movie has to be commended for not being influenced so much by the SRK starrer Don, which released last year, and Ajith has done well not to imitate the superstar. The movie would surely do well to lift up Ajith’s sagging career which has recorded a series of flops with a few hits in between. Also, Ajith did well to engage himself in some publicity stunts before the movie’s release, mainly aimed at attracting audiences to the movie after the famed ‘opening’ he always commands from his loyal fans.

Hello everybody! this is Rivat Hanss, a humble and modest guy(pun intended!) trying to start off something relatively unknown (thats blogging!).



About me first: a highly confident, smart, jovial, friendly guy who lives to entertain others! doing my final year B.tech in NIT, Trichy. I am contended with whatever I have achieved and believe in finding happiness in small things rather than waiting for a big success. An extrovert in general but shy when it comes to girls[who would believe that!;)]. A bit conservative when it comes to spending money. A bit traditional and emotional(not many know this!).



My firsts: I always believe in doing different things. Be it different hairstyles, ear studs, getups, showoffs, dancing, singing, different sports, bullying people, writing diary, cooking, making fun of others, flirting openly, making fun of myself, advising people, having many friends, bits in exams, a lot of crushes ah I want to try everything and have been successful in many of them. Blogging is one thing which is very popular and still I haven’t tried. My life is full of interesting events and I hope to give all of you a nice read via this medium. Many of my friends have always wanted to know why I am like this and what exactly I write in my diary everyday. So guys here is some insight into my thoughts, beliefs and myself! Happy reading! :)



P.S: For those of you who are wondering what Rivat Hanss is, well thats an anagram of my name Srivathsan and thats how I will be referred to from now on! no ARS no Srivathsan its going to be Rivat Hanss!!! this is another different thing I am trying today :)

From here, i read that this map costs $10 million.Yes, you heard that right. $10 million friggin dollars. I don’t know how many American tax payers would be excited that their money is being spent on a map, but that’s not my problem anyway. After all atleast its better than the Australians who use tax payer money to maintain maps of their city toilets! They even have a My Toilet Map section where you can add you favourite toilets!! Hmmm, maybe its useful - say your on a date and need to urgently ‘go’(i mean no 2 here) you can always whip out your GPRS phone,open your bookmarked toiletmap online, find your favourite toilet, quickly duck around the corner -any excuse ‘just getting some smokes darling’ - and go, without any incident whatsover. Or you could just ‘go’ like they do it here. Simple.



Anyway,back to story.



There’s another much older map here, which shows the path from Rome to India.(No, the indian government is not planning to buy it, thankfully!) The map itself is a little interesting, it resembles one you commonly see in treasure hunt movies - only here there’s no ‘X’ marks the spot, instead all roads lead to Rome. Seemingly used by Roman civil servants to travel and so the map is rectangular and has India on the extreme right end. You can vaguely make out “R.Gangoo” and something about “in his locus elephant mac@#$@”, but India is spelt “INDIA” though. How is that possible now?! I thought we got the name from the British.

However, the cool thing about this is that the world or the sub-section of it atleast, seems so huge! It just keeps going on and on till you finally fall into the Indian ocean.



I remember as a kid, probably 6 yrs old, being told this very same thing, many times over in school, at home , that the world is big, really big. The first time i heard about this i excitedly came home and asked my mom for a globe. We dint have one then, so she instead showed me the world map on an atlas, a mini-atlas actually. Imagine my shock when i saw the entire world fit into one page! I dont know what i had imagined but my ferverish cartoon-infested brain probably expected rolls and rolls of scroll paper covering the entire room. This was a such a depressing thought. Plus it had Dubai marked on it too. At that point as far as i was concerned,the 25 minute bus ride straight from my home to school through Al-Mulla plaza, 2 underpasses, a bridge, a roundabout covered most of Dubai. There was Burdubai if you wanted to shop, Karama to eat, Mamzar Park to play and Sheikh Zayed road to go to Abu Dhabi. It wasn’t a big deal then, there was no downtown, no meadows, springs and palms and definitely no shopping malls with mountains of ice in them. I even imagined that i could walk the distance to school some time (little did i know that it was 16 km and i would probably die of dehydration!). In 1990, that’s all Dubai was and if India which was so far away, that we had to fly, was so near (barely 5 cm) then how could the world be so big? Even someplace like South America was just a few hours on a flight! That’s just not big enough, i said to myself, after all Bionic six and Transformers, sometimes travelled for days. And Superman, flew in from his own planet. Just not fair.



Somehow, i did outgrow that (the cartoons that is, i still think the earth is too small), and by 6th grade, Social Studies had History/Civics and Geography. I thought Geography was going to be a breeze since i already knew all the continents, most countries and where they were on the map, the various oceans and stuff. Yes, that information helped for maybe 5 minutes after which we learnt about endless types of sands, rocks, soil, parts of the atmosphere (i still dont know them!) and lots about the type of trees growing in the winter season in the mountains of Canada where, btw, noone lives. (History until 5th grade was about the nomads/bedouins in Arabia who kept roaming about the desert in circles for a few thousand years before someone yelled allah, or was it oil? Don’t remember).



I’ve forgotten most of all this, but i still remember our Geography sir, Mr. Kishen Singh. A stocky, dark complexioned,40 something guy with a strange mark on his left cheek, who was a class act in the art of fart. We used to call him Chodu Singh ( those days in school, chodu was a colloquial for ‘farting’ or ‘gas’). Infact even he knew about the name, it had almost become tradition. I dont know if he was a Surd, but even that wouldn’t be justification enough for this. Now, when a guy tells you the story of how he had taken a group of boy scouts while he was teaching in India for an overnight camp, and being hormonally insane, jumped into the Tarapur atomic power station to show his adventurous boys how a nuclear power plant works but due to unfortunate firing by the Indian guards there, there was an explosion in the plant, due to which he sustained an injury on his face that left an indelible mark forever, we 6th graders lapped it up and asked for more. So out came some more gems - how his dad or some uncle built the Bhakra Nangal dam and so he knows about it better than the NCERT textbook, or about how the Tehri dam was in the middle of Maharashtra and there was a protest there, or about how he had actually sustained the mark because the Pakistani Rangers had shot him when he went on a trek and lost his way across the border (to be fair to him, he’d actually told this in another section), we only wanted more! Why,were we so naiive? No dear ignoramuses, this was simply so that when we compared notes with fellow mates from other sections, we came out on top as the section with the Best Chodu Singh Story Ever Told Award (not that there was anything like that, but you get the drift).



Incidentally, he was also incharge of the Environment Club at school. And as your regular 7th grader who’s reading Science Encyclopedias and concerned about Global Warming and impending disasters like ‘Deep Impact’, i joined the club for the cause. Eh,that was not what you were doing? Oh playboy,yes, there were plenty of those (pages i mean, not the entire book!)we got from the 9th graders. Given a choice then, i’d have jumped at the opportunity to join PETA instead and satisfy both and suchlike.. Sigh.. Pamela Anderson.. Baywatch.. Yasmin Bleethe(fixate)…. BRAKE!



After a magazine release for Earth Day, a clean up drive and a marathon later, Chodu Singh told us about an impending clean up drive on Jumeirah beach. The only catch was that this was on a Friday morning at 8 am, meaning we had to wake up by 6 to reach the venue on time. ‘How many volunteers would there be?’, he asked. Unquestionably, all our hands went up. It was for a green cause after all. And we were good, hardworking, environmentally conscious young lads. That there would be sexy, white, hot, stunning babes sunbathing on the beach on Friday mornings, was the part we weren’t bothered about. After all we had a planet to save!

So we reported for duty and were all given a tshirt, a cap, drinks, a pair of gloves and a big black garbage bag we set off to clean Jumeirah beach. (Background info - because of the corrupting influence hot girls in bikinis can have on the young,impressionable minds of Indian boys, most Indian families bring their kids to the beach only to see the sunset or atleast so it seemed then). The beach looked like Baywatch had come alive in all it glory, only i wasn’t the cool kid with a surfboard and long hair, instead i held a garbage bag and an over sized cap! Nevertheless, these were atmost minor irritants for us, this was simply a time to feast the eyes, and ofcourse to clean.



After three hours of giving back to nature whilst taking in all it had to offer, we were trudging back when we caught sight of Chodu Singh atop a rock. Now, that in itself was a hilarious sight but out of curiosity we decided to see what he was upto. And lo and behold, here was our Geography teacher, taking a ring side view of pure, unbridled natural beauty! Absolutely callous, inspite of us impressionable, young minds standing by. (Clear throat, cough sound). ‘Oh yes boys, I was just, ahem, checking these rocks and seeing which sediments they were composed of. You know,the …. ‘



It dint matter. We had our story which kicked the ass of anything till then. Plus we could add any amount of masala we wanted to. The Jumeirah beach clean up drive rocked. I also made my first real, huge sandcastle in a competition and won first place. Ahem, yes i know.



P.S> Did i also mention that he was incharge of the Baden Powell Boy scouts and used to take students to camp out in the school football ground, where they would wear the uniform, sit around a ready-made fire and tent, listen to his chodus for the whole night, sleep and come home the next morning? The simple pleasures of life.Heh.

I’m an adrenaline junkie!!



I love to fly. Commercial airlines, that is.



The best part of the entire flight is the take-off, when he floors the engines and you get slammed into your seats. I can’t believe they’re actually making planes more “comfortable” by reducing the g-effects felt inside!! What’s the ruddy point of flying?!



Gone are the days when I used to drive for the sheer joy it brought me. Now driving is purely a mechanical task. I start the car at point A and suddenly wake up to find that I’ve arrived at point B. No recollection of the transit whatsoever.



Now i drive for only one reason. Those unfortunately rare stretches where i can accelerate to above 100kmph. Those are the only times when i actually find myself completely awake and concentrating on the road. Especially when the road is narrow and I’m passing everything at breakneck speeds.



It’s brilliant.



But the euphoria is shortlived. Fleeting. You barely start to enjoy it, when it’s gone.



My short term goal(as i often feel like putting into my sop) is to go skydiving as soon as possible!!



Because the whole 120kmph thing is wearing off. I found myself yawning the other day when i was going 125. Either i need to go much much faster(which is where the skydiving comes in) or i need to get me a convertible(i figure i can turn the santro into one à la Top Gear)



Ok… I’m so obviously procrastinating.



I will now be leave the old frasier episodes, stumbleupon, the superman comics i’ve downloaded, Microsoft FSX, HL2 episode 2, the zig-zag way by anita desai, immortality by milan kundera, the 13 1/2 lives of captain bluebear, The Psmith omnibus, the mulliner omnibus, my ipod radio, my wardriving softwares and the three posts i’ve started on my blog,

AND

i’m going to get back to my sop’s and diversity essays… :(



Dammit!

I don’t quite know what’s wrong with me today, but i am finding the article below very very funny. Damn you stumble!!



These are things people actually said in court, word for word, taken down and now published by court reporters who had the torment of staying calm while these exchanges were actually taking place.

---

ATTORNEY: Are you sexually active?

WITNESS: No, I just lie there.

---

ATTORNEY: What is your date of birth?

WITNESS: July 18th.

ATTORNEY: What year?

WITNESS: Every year.

---

ATTORNEY: What gear were you in at the moment of the impact?

WITNESS: Gucci sweats and Reeboks.

---

ATTORNEY: This myasthenia gravis, does it affect your memory at all?

WITNESS: Yes.

ATTORNEY: And in what ways does it affect your memory?

WITNESS: I forget.

ATTORNEY: You forget? Can you give us an example of something you forgot?

---

ATTORNEY: What was the first thing your husband said to you that morning?

WITNESS: He said, “Where am I, Cathy?”

ATTORNEY: And why did that upset you?

WITNESS: My name is Susan.

---

ATTORNEY: Now doctor, isn’t it true that when a person dies in his sleep, he doesn’t know about it until the next morning?

WITNESS: Did you actually pass the bar exam?

---

ATTORNEY: Were you present when your picture was taken?

WITNESS: Would you repeat the question?

---

ATTORNEY: So the date of conception (of the baby) was August 8th?

WITNESS: Yes.

ATTORNEY: And what were you doing at that time?

WITNESS: Uh…

---

ATTORNEY: She had three children, right?

WITNESS: Yes.

ATTORNEY: How many were boys?

WITNESS: None.

ATTORNEY: Were there any girls?

---

ATTORNEY: How was your first marriage terminated?

WITNESS: By death.

ATTORNEY: And by whose death was it terminated?

---

ATTORNEY: Is your appearance here this morning pursuant to a deposition notice which I sent to your attorney?

WITNESS: No, this is how I dress when I go to work.

---

ATTORNEY: Doctor, how many of your autopsies have you performed on dead people?

WITNESS: All my autopsies are performed on dead people.

---

ATTORNEY: ALL your responses MUST be oral, OK? What school did you go to?

WITNESS: Oral.

---

ATTORNEY: Do you recall the time that you examined the body?

WITNESS: The autopsy started around 8:30 p.m.

ATTORNEY: And Mr. Denton was dead at the time?

WITNESS: No, he was sitting on the table wondering why I was doing an autopsy on him!

---

ATTORNEY: Are you qualified to give a urine sample?

WITNESS: Huh?

---

ATTORNEY: Doctor, before you performed the autopsy, did you check for a pulse?

WITNESS: No.

ATTORNEY: Did you check for blood pressure?

WITNESS: No.

ATTORNEY Did you check for breathing?

WITNESS: No.

ATTORNEY: So, then it is possible that the patient was alive when you began the autopsy?

WITNESS: No.

ATTORNEY: How can you be so sure, Doctor?

WITNESS: Because his brain was sitting on my desk in a jar.

ATTORNEY: But could the patient have still been alive, nevertheless?

WITNESS: Yes, it is possible that he could have been alive and practicing law.

[From the Bridgnorth, Shifnal and Albrighton Argus, with which is incorporated the Wheat Growers’ Intelligencer and STock Breeders’ Gazeteer]



It isn’t often, goodness knows, that we are urged to quit the prose with which we earn our daily bread and take to poetry instead. But great events come now and then which call for the poetic pen. SO you will pardon us, we know, if, dealing with the Shropshire Show, we lisp in numbers to explain that Emp. of Blandings won again.

This year her chance at first appeared a slender one, for it was feared that she, alas, had had her day. On every side you heard folks say ‘She’s won it twice. She can’t repeat. ‘Twould be a super-porcine feat.’ ‘Twas freely whispered up and down that Fate would place the laurel crown this time on the capacious bean of Matchingham’s up-and-coming Queen. For though the Emp. is fat, the latter, they felt, would prove distinctly fatter. ‘Her too, too solid flesh,’ they said, ‘ ‘ll be sure to cop that silver medal.’

Such was the story which one heard, but nothing of the sort occurred, and, as in both the previous years, a hurricane of rousing cheers from the nobility and gentry acclaimed the Blandings Castle entry as all the judges - Colonel Brice, Sir Henry Boole and Major Price (three minds with but a single thought whose verdict none can set at naught) - announced the Fat Pigs champ to be Lord Emsworth’s portly nominee.

With reference to her success, she gave a statement to the Press. ‘Although,’ she said, ‘one hates to brag, I knew the thing was in the bag. Though i admit the Queen is stout, the issue never was in doubt. Clean living did the trick,’ said she. ‘To that i owe my victory.’

Ah, what a lesson does it teach to all of us, that splendid speech!