The last year has been good for yours truly... a sense of accomplishment, of relief, washes over me as I sit down to relish the moments that meant a lot to me over the course of the previous year. I have achieved, among other things, a sense of direction, of commitment to a cause, and of the vastness of the world at large compared to the world I live in. And as I spent the moment of arrival of 2007, sharing the moment with a truly wonderful person, looking at the stars, I thanked God on how lucky I am.

Getting your ass kicked in an examination is a sure fire way to make you open your eyes and smell the coffee. I got my dues today, in a three-hour torture fiesta that left a trail of destruction in its wake that took out almost all my class with it. Dazed and shell-shocked is how I would describe my current situation to the EMTs who are probably on the way. Three more semesters of this treatment is sure to flush out any soul that had the unfortunate accident of harboring within me.

A revelation was made into the extent to which the human body can go in order to satisfy its basest urges.

The venue: A classroom not far, far away..
The victims: Yours truly and his roommate

After a night of watching arbitrary crap on the computer which serves no purpose other than to reduce the unfortunate subjects to sleep-walking zombies during the day, me and my roommate hit our first class for the day: at 9 AM. The lecturer is not taking the class, he just sits among the students while one of us conducts a seminar. Today being the day of unfortunate justices, he chooses the empty spot on the bench, beside us. But does the stimulus of a teacher sitting next to us prevent us from recapturing the lost experiences of sleep? Not at all... he was the first to get caught, me having used him at the time to hide my sleep-craving self from the teacher's eyes. He was told to wash his face, and coming back, the betrayer decides to take me down with him by sitting in the other corner of the classroom. There is no one between me and the lecturer. Does that stop me? Really... be serious

In my laughing classsmates' words, I dozed my way to heavenly glory while he managed to keep himself up for the hour by laughing at the precious sight and trying to simili my incessant nodding to harmonic functions, and the quick-return mechanism of a mechanical crank. The honourable person seated next to me, was thankfully oblivious to his knocked out neighbour, and intently listening to the seminar.

More adventures await me in the coming days, I'm sure, but I wonder why danger is my companion after a good night's sleeplessness

The advantages and disadvatages of working under a looming deadline become apparent at the point where you find yourself with so many things to do in such a short while, that you start wondering where to begin, or just give it all up and write a blog about it. The second choice comes to me automatically, I must say, though the guilt of having a deadline whoosh by you is quite overwhelming. The brain, when bombarded with stimuli to the point where each task to be done seems like pixels in an interestingly pointillised artwork, resorts to curling up in a virtual foetal position, with the cerbrum tucked firmly between the two lobes of the medulla oblongata. This position, causes the mind to play repetitive hallucinations which pertain to shifting the tasks at hand to a later deadline. The acceptance to this solution causes the brain to revert back to its original position, hopefully with no haemorrhages, until the process repeats again at the next deadline. Trust me, I do it every single day.

Its been quite a long time since I've posted, not a trend I'm to let off easily enough... and I am happy to go on with it... since I have what I dicovered to be a 'literary outburst' period. All the words that should have flown during four two or three months come out in a dizzying flourish of creative energy that leaves no room for the average reader to wonder what the hell this sentence really means. Let me put it straight. Writing is no easy task. As someone has wisely put it, "The blank page is the writer's greatest enemy". While I do not go on and consider myself as a writer, even a paltry one, I certainly am one among the miserable class of people to whom the blank page poses the most challenging and terrifying scenario. Until nights like this, when the keyboard begs to blabber. I call these outings 'literary menstruations'... alluding the nomenclature to the fact that both may be affected by the moon and the tides and what not. With nothing to stop the flow, maybe I should go on... or maybe it is advisable to stop singing when your voice has still not lost its tenor.

There are many times when I ask myself... what have I done? I have completed two years of my life in an Engineering College, and I basically have nothing worthwhile to show for it. I always dreamt about college life... being free and careless... able to do anything you want... and life gave me just that. The two years in 11th and 12th where I worked my ass off for the Entrance Exams was for this one goal... and life gave me just that. But what have I done?

I always told myself that once I have enough spare time at my hands, once I am free, I can start doing stuff that I always wanted to do, but could never pursue in its entirety. Read a lot of books, learn another language, improve my quizzing skills, the lot. Now I am in a position to do whatever I want. And what have I done?

What I embarked upon is a creative and spontaneous process of time wastage. Free time is generally spent lying in bed wondering what to do. I have little academic pressure, but find it hard to keep up because of the nasty habit of postponing things. If there is a thing that has to be done, it can wait. Hell, I wanted to write a blog on this for two months!!

I personally happen to love reading. I have a computer right in my hostel room with tons of e-books on it. But the reading just does not happen. It is a bit of a game here, a bit of a tv show there, a bit of porn on the side, and wow, the day is over. It so happened that I went home for the weekend and read the first four books of Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy in 3 days. I started off with the fifth book, and it was time to get back to college. And that was that. Its been a month. I have the same book in my hostel room computer. But why read when you can do much more 'fun' stuff? And at the end of the day, its the end of the day.

It all boils to the present moment. We are facing our end semester exams now. I had an exam today, and I have an exam two days later. The plan was to come to the Computer Centre (Since its hot as a frying pan here, and the CC has AC) and study for our next exam. And here we are folks, me and my friend, writing blogs for the world to read, on the very felony I am committing now. Maybe public self-criticism is the only way to rectify the situation.

As this being my first post other than the whole legend of my blog being created, I would like to introduce myself. I, fool that I am, as thousands of bloggers before and probably after me, live in this make-believe world where you think that everyone else on the net is eager to see your literary skills. Maybe this post won't be read by anyone... maybe some hapless soul on a hopeless quest to retrieve a long-lost piece of information from the internet may stumble upon it, only to press the useful "next blog" button helpfully placed at the top of the page, and cruise on to the next nincompoop's blog, all the while thinking of what to put on His blog. After all, what do the other jobless nitwits do? Thus is the definition of the new age of the internet : "Useless pages created by brainless fellows for the other brainless fellows to glance through while they are on the way to update their own page". Enough of my rambling... anyone unlucky enough to read this would be already comparing me with Marvin, the permanently depressed robot in 'Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy'.

Average guy, Mostly Harmless.

Thats it... sums me up. Want more info, see my bio. As I sit at 3 AM on a Friday night in my college Computer Centre writing an intro, I know that I am suffering from attention-craving-whatisit disorder, in the modern form of which, you sit on a computer typing sentences that take shape from no meaningful conglomeration of letters.

In the beginning I created the Blog. And the web was without form, and void and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And I said, Let there be the sidebar: and there was the sidebar. And I saw the sidebar, that it was good: and I divided the sidebar from the page. And the evening and the morning were the first day.

And I said, Let there be colour in the midst of the Blog. And I made the colours. The array of colours I called a template. And the evening and the morning were the second day.

And I said, Let all the literature under the heaven be gathered together unto one place, and let the blogs appear: and it was so. And I saw that it was good.
And I said, Let the Blog bring forth posts, the mind yielding thought, and the thought process yielding ideas after its kind: and it was so. And I saw that it was good. And the evening and the morning were the third day.

And I said, Let there be links in the firmament of the sidebar to divide the ignorant from the arrogant; and let them be for signs, and for seasons, and for days, and years: and it was so. And God made two great links; the greater link to point the way to itself, and the lesser link to point to the website. And I set them in the firmament of the sidebar to give light upon the web, and I saw that it was good. And the evening and the morning were the fourth day.

And I said, Let the sidebar bring forth abundantly the changing links that hath life, and those who point to the archives in the open firmament of the sidebar. And I blessed them, saying, Be fruitful, and multiply, and fill the sidebar, and let foul stuff multiply on the net. And the evening and the morning were the fifth day.

And I said, Let the Blog bring forth the profile after my kind, and creeping things, and beast of the earth after my kind: and it was so. And I saw that it was good. So I created the profile in my own image. And I blessed it, and I said unto it, Be fruitful, and replenish the net, and subdue it: and have dominion over all of the blogs, and over the foul air, and over every single page that moveth upon the web. And I said, Behold, I have given you every bit of worthwhile reading material on the face of the net.
And I saw every thing that I had made, and, behold, it was very good. And the evening and the morning were the sixth day.

Thus the blog and the post were finished, and all the host of them. And on the seventh day I ended my work which I had made; and I rested on the seventh day from all my work which I had made. Because the seventh day was Sunday, and that is the day to sleep.