The seemingly vast expanse of GK can confuse, daze and even depress quite a few people, especially those preparing for competitive exams like yours truly.
One can at times get the feeling that one really knows stuff and in the next instance, your world, in which you are a self-proclaimed genius, can come crashing down.
That is when you realise that GK is General Knowledge(Stop gasping;I am pathetic at abbreviations but that doesn't mean I didnt know this one) and 'general' encpompasses just about everything and everyone, you can possibly think of (of course, our dear politicians will beg to differ, particularly a certain Mr. Sycophant).
GK isn't just knowing why Avram Grant is still hopeful of a miracle(hell, even I am) or what does the flag of Mozambique look like. Knowing the name of your neighbour's dog or the number of comments Aamir Khan's latest post got is as much a part of GK!
15/04/08: The richest man in Italy won the elections to be the 62nd PM in 63 years. Ballots had been cast for 2 LS seats and 3 VS seats in UP.(Ulta Pradesh:as one of my friends would like to refer to it and he, certainly, is not Amar Singh).
7:30 pm : Papa gets home after a routine day at office.
In a bid to begin conversation(and to show that I am 'studying'), I shoot my mouth off, "Berlusconi won; 47:38 in both the senate and the lower house."
Dad: I don't care about Italy. Wahan to roz hi elections hote rahte hain. Who won in Murad Nagar?
Yours truly(completely zapped): Wahan ke to mujhe contestants bhi nahi pata :(
Papa: Both BJP and Cong are going to lose their deposits. Rajpal Tyagi seems likely to win though Ajit Singh has put all his weight(bacha hi kahan hai!) behind Ayub Khan.
Yours truly: Uhh..kkk...Murad Nagar..It is somewhere near Ghaziabad, ryt??!!
(Yes, I am bad at Geography. This incident led me to the conclusion that my condition is ruthful).
Hopefully, the CLAT people will ask better questions(better questions=questions to which I have a perefect answer) and I would rather be Alex Ferguson here!!
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Pics say it all!!
This photograph appeared in 'The Hindu' yesterday. The guy has won the elections. He is going to be the CM for the third consecutive time. What I am unable to understand is that why did he have to shave one half of his moustache.Any answers???????
Full marks to these two men for plunging their motherland into a needless crisis. If all they wanted was to witness mindless bloodshed and gory streets, they could have easily dusted the cobwebs off their playstations. Why toy with human life???????Or if they were so utterly jobless, they could have gone to be the judges of some crap beauty contest(rajnath singh won't approve!) though I am sure, half of the contestants would have fainted at the sight of Mr. 'Dark Choclate'(with a lot of theobromine).
Oh! I don't want to get sued for copyright violation so the PM-in-waiting can claim the credit for Kibaki's new name.
p.s. listening to 'locking up the sun'.Revolution Roulette is going to be out soon.CoR rules though(till date i.e.)
Friday, March 7, 2008
3 to go....
Oh! OK.....I am supposed to be studying right now....but this is way better than the crappy CBSE English, so the nihilist in me is in no mood to listen to any sane advice at the moment...
It is only when you mess up your physics paper to an extent that you feel like whacking yourself on the head, that you realise the importance of studying throughout the year. You realise the fact that these exams are not just exams.
It is only when you know that the burden of expectations is high and you are being the Titanic( a very bad analogy, I know), that you realise that even a zener diode can change the course of your life.
It is only when a class III kid comes up to you, asks, "paper chal rahe hain?" and when you nod, amuses as well as triggers nostalgia with his response, "mere bhi", that you realise that how interesting can life be.
Man, I miss those carefree days when exams were just what they are supposed to be-fun!
Abraham Lincoln once said and I quote, "People are just about as happy as they make up their minds to be."
p.s. The quote has been stuck(literally as well) to my memory by one of the most lovable people on the planet(and I would rather participate in conserving it......unless I want to get killed).
p.p.s. Forgot the b'day of a dear friend and the worst thing is that wasn't even admonished on wishing 2 days later. This is exactly the reason why people should not have their birthdays during exams or be at least on orkut, if they do.
p.p.p.s. (And this is when you realise that it is getting a bit too lengthy-just like the physics paper :-D)
MTNL is going from bad to worse.
It is only when you mess up your physics paper to an extent that you feel like whacking yourself on the head, that you realise the importance of studying throughout the year. You realise the fact that these exams are not just exams.
It is only when you know that the burden of expectations is high and you are being the Titanic( a very bad analogy, I know), that you realise that even a zener diode can change the course of your life.
It is only when a class III kid comes up to you, asks, "paper chal rahe hain?" and when you nod, amuses as well as triggers nostalgia with his response, "mere bhi", that you realise that how interesting can life be.
Man, I miss those carefree days when exams were just what they are supposed to be-fun!
Abraham Lincoln once said and I quote, "People are just about as happy as they make up their minds to be."
p.s. The quote has been stuck(literally as well) to my memory by one of the most lovable people on the planet(and I would rather participate in conserving it......unless I want to get killed).
p.p.s. Forgot the b'day of a dear friend and the worst thing is that wasn't even admonished on wishing 2 days later. This is exactly the reason why people should not have their birthdays during exams or be at least on orkut, if they do.
p.p.p.s. (And this is when you realise that it is getting a bit too lengthy-just like the physics paper :-D)
MTNL is going from bad to worse.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
A SHORT STORY
I am not a story teller. The art of story writing is a highly complicated one and is best left to accomplished masters of the craft, Rasipuram Krishnaswami Narayan, Guy De Maupassant and the likes.
Reservation(in the Indian context;I am not talking about Mr. Lalu Prasad Yadav's tatkal quota here)will remain a contentious issue as long as democracy survives(the founding fathers of our constitution surely hadn't anticipated this)i.e in a country like ours, forever(unless one is overtly pessimistic).
The trick while debating is not zealously going on harping about your point of view but capitalizing on the mistake of your opponent(even Roger Fedrer has bad days in office,today for instance). You place yourself in your opponent's shoes, try debating against your own point of view(which many a time is decided by the toss of a coin) and hit the odd loose ball so hard that the other guy can only watch haplessly(unless he is an acrobat or plain lucky Janko Tipsarevic).
Anyway, enough of beating about the bush. The title doesn't permit me to go on yakking anymore. So let me dive headlong into my 'story'.
I was born(as if it isn't obvious; pretty unusual begining for a story but as i said I am no master craftsman).
He was born. We were seperated by a few months, I guess. We grew up together, learnt to speak together, learnt to tie our shoe laces and comb our hair together. His house was next to mine. We even prepared for our interview together. Yes, I vaguely remember. It was a big deal-the first interview of our lives. We were in dread of it. The creases on the foreheads of our parents were clearly visible. Mock interviews were the order of the day. We had to conduct ourselves with utmost grace and poise.Everything from that perefect gait to that million dollar smile was stressed upon. Finally the D-day arrived and we went in for our Nursery admission interview. Everything went on remarkably smoothly. The teachers were cheerful, kind, jolly, congenial, convivial and more. We were able to regurgitate whatever we had mugged up and we felt at ease since there were numerous kids of the same age with haggard faces.
The results were announced. We had made it to one of the most prestigious schools in the city. Everyone at home was euphoric. The electrifying atmosphere was somewhat similar to what Misbah-ul-Haq's scoop at Johannesburg had caused. We kids just wondered at the over- enthusiasm of the elders, smiling at each other with a twinkle in our eyes, somehow unconsciously aware that it was our doing that was the causa causans of this wild celebration.
Well, we started going to school dressed in neat blue check shirts and grey shorts. Now we had become 'best friends', caring for and sharing with each other. We ran around in this second home of ours during the recess from the see-saw to the merry-go-round, sometimes pushing and shoving but always lending a hand everytime the other fell down.
Soon, football became a passion(as is the case with most guys) and we started kicking regularly, whether in school or in the nearby park in the evenings(dunno, when did Airtel people shoot us; I am contemplating suing them, they should have asked for permission; not that I would have refused).
I often thought, "I LOVE HIM"
Time flew like anything. Soon, those carefree days were over. We had stepped into teenage-the age of rebellion. We were still together(though the moron preferred Angelina to Scarlett) playing Counterstrike, bunking classes and yes, eyeing girls. We were inseperable. Our fondness for each other never ceased to grow. We formed a mutual admiration society.
I still thought,"I LOVE HIM"
(for the 'intellectuals', who tend to 'think', let me clarify that I had no homosexual leanings;didn't I just say something about girls.It is pure, unbound friendship that I am talking about.)
Now was the time to choose our career path and as destiny would have it, we chose the same option. There was immense pressure, immense workload. Everything from school to coaching to extracurriculars had to be managed. The advisory board comprising parents, teachers, friends, relatives et al was ever vigilant, never bereft of ideas, keeping me on my toes. Inspite of the time constraint, we were still together.
Parents: Study,son. If you work hard at this point of time, you will reap benifits till ripe, old age.(yeah,ryt, I need to care about my grand children too).
Relatives: You need to slog. God helps them who helps themselves. (then why do we need a God at all?)
Teachers: Be focussed. We have been teaching kids(who??)like you from the time you were not even born. Hard work maketh a man.(duh!)
Friends: You gotta work. Nyway, chillax(thnx man,same to you)
Life wasn't easy but this phase had its own pleasure. I was supposed to look up to every engineer cousin, every doctor uncle, every lawyer aunt- in a nutshell, everyone who had been able to eke out a decent living.
I was working hard. All those sermons and lectures had had the desired effect. Some of the message had sunk in and I decided to pass it on to the guy with whom I had shared 17 marvellous years of my life.
But he wouldn't budge."Take it easy, man. Life is a bed of roses."- this attitude of his stunned me. I tried arguing, pleading, threatening, everything that was in my arsenal(I was a true friend, apparently) but all in vain. At last I locked my eyes into his and pulled out my trump card- my father's dialogue that always reverbrated in my head- "Man, there are only 57(just a random number) seats all over India and you know what India's population is?"; letting the words hang in air to bring out the almost magical effect.
His eyes met my steely gaze and just when I was getting ready to bask in the glory of my triumph of talking sense in to my friend, his sarcastic smile left me flabbergasted.
Life dragged on, I slogged on, I dreamt on, but he didn't care to bother. I shrugged.
The D-day arrived. Brimming with confidence but at the same time shivering with nervousness, I took my entrance.
Another test, another result. What had transpired 14 years ago, flashed past my eyes. The joy, the elation, the overwhwlming emotions and the thing which mattered most- that feeling of togetherness.
Everyday is not Sunday. It was a huge disappointment. The eternal bond had been broken. We would not be together anymore. In different cities, away from each other, we would survive. BUT there was a difference- a HUGE difference. The feeling had changed. My mouth now spewed venom and my breath whispered curses.
I HATE HIM
He had got in. It was a heavy blow not because I grudged him his achievement but because the crutch he had, had caught me in the groin. I was bleeding, I was dying. All the hard work had come to nought.
Why was God so cruel? Why hadn't he let me take birth in a particular caste? What should I do now? Agitate or sit on a fast unto death to get SC or ST status for my caste?
No, I won't. I won't resort to rioting, I won't indulge in violence. I will do what millions in this country do. Slog again, again & again, again & again & again, to be denied my fair share, yet again.
Reservation(in the Indian context;I am not talking about Mr. Lalu Prasad Yadav's tatkal quota here)will remain a contentious issue as long as democracy survives(the founding fathers of our constitution surely hadn't anticipated this)i.e in a country like ours, forever(unless one is overtly pessimistic).
The trick while debating is not zealously going on harping about your point of view but capitalizing on the mistake of your opponent(even Roger Fedrer has bad days in office,today for instance). You place yourself in your opponent's shoes, try debating against your own point of view(which many a time is decided by the toss of a coin) and hit the odd loose ball so hard that the other guy can only watch haplessly(unless he is an acrobat or plain lucky Janko Tipsarevic).
Anyway, enough of beating about the bush. The title doesn't permit me to go on yakking anymore. So let me dive headlong into my 'story'.
I was born(as if it isn't obvious; pretty unusual begining for a story but as i said I am no master craftsman).
He was born. We were seperated by a few months, I guess. We grew up together, learnt to speak together, learnt to tie our shoe laces and comb our hair together. His house was next to mine. We even prepared for our interview together. Yes, I vaguely remember. It was a big deal-the first interview of our lives. We were in dread of it. The creases on the foreheads of our parents were clearly visible. Mock interviews were the order of the day. We had to conduct ourselves with utmost grace and poise.Everything from that perefect gait to that million dollar smile was stressed upon. Finally the D-day arrived and we went in for our Nursery admission interview. Everything went on remarkably smoothly. The teachers were cheerful, kind, jolly, congenial, convivial and more. We were able to regurgitate whatever we had mugged up and we felt at ease since there were numerous kids of the same age with haggard faces.
The results were announced. We had made it to one of the most prestigious schools in the city. Everyone at home was euphoric. The electrifying atmosphere was somewhat similar to what Misbah-ul-Haq's scoop at Johannesburg had caused. We kids just wondered at the over- enthusiasm of the elders, smiling at each other with a twinkle in our eyes, somehow unconsciously aware that it was our doing that was the causa causans of this wild celebration.
Well, we started going to school dressed in neat blue check shirts and grey shorts. Now we had become 'best friends', caring for and sharing with each other. We ran around in this second home of ours during the recess from the see-saw to the merry-go-round, sometimes pushing and shoving but always lending a hand everytime the other fell down.
Soon, football became a passion(as is the case with most guys) and we started kicking regularly, whether in school or in the nearby park in the evenings(dunno, when did Airtel people shoot us; I am contemplating suing them, they should have asked for permission; not that I would have refused).
I often thought, "I LOVE HIM"
Time flew like anything. Soon, those carefree days were over. We had stepped into teenage-the age of rebellion. We were still together(though the moron preferred Angelina to Scarlett) playing Counterstrike, bunking classes and yes, eyeing girls. We were inseperable. Our fondness for each other never ceased to grow. We formed a mutual admiration society.
I still thought,"I LOVE HIM"
(for the 'intellectuals', who tend to 'think', let me clarify that I had no homosexual leanings;didn't I just say something about girls.It is pure, unbound friendship that I am talking about.)
Now was the time to choose our career path and as destiny would have it, we chose the same option. There was immense pressure, immense workload. Everything from school to coaching to extracurriculars had to be managed. The advisory board comprising parents, teachers, friends, relatives et al was ever vigilant, never bereft of ideas, keeping me on my toes. Inspite of the time constraint, we were still together.
Parents: Study,son. If you work hard at this point of time, you will reap benifits till ripe, old age.(yeah,ryt, I need to care about my grand children too).
Relatives: You need to slog. God helps them who helps themselves. (then why do we need a God at all?)
Teachers: Be focussed. We have been teaching kids(who??)like you from the time you were not even born. Hard work maketh a man.(duh!)
Friends: You gotta work. Nyway, chillax(thnx man,same to you)
Life wasn't easy but this phase had its own pleasure. I was supposed to look up to every engineer cousin, every doctor uncle, every lawyer aunt- in a nutshell, everyone who had been able to eke out a decent living.
I was working hard. All those sermons and lectures had had the desired effect. Some of the message had sunk in and I decided to pass it on to the guy with whom I had shared 17 marvellous years of my life.
But he wouldn't budge."Take it easy, man. Life is a bed of roses."- this attitude of his stunned me. I tried arguing, pleading, threatening, everything that was in my arsenal(I was a true friend, apparently) but all in vain. At last I locked my eyes into his and pulled out my trump card- my father's dialogue that always reverbrated in my head- "Man, there are only 57(just a random number) seats all over India and you know what India's population is?"; letting the words hang in air to bring out the almost magical effect.
His eyes met my steely gaze and just when I was getting ready to bask in the glory of my triumph of talking sense in to my friend, his sarcastic smile left me flabbergasted.
Life dragged on, I slogged on, I dreamt on, but he didn't care to bother. I shrugged.
The D-day arrived. Brimming with confidence but at the same time shivering with nervousness, I took my entrance.
Another test, another result. What had transpired 14 years ago, flashed past my eyes. The joy, the elation, the overwhwlming emotions and the thing which mattered most- that feeling of togetherness.
Everyday is not Sunday. It was a huge disappointment. The eternal bond had been broken. We would not be together anymore. In different cities, away from each other, we would survive. BUT there was a difference- a HUGE difference. The feeling had changed. My mouth now spewed venom and my breath whispered curses.
I HATE HIM
He had got in. It was a heavy blow not because I grudged him his achievement but because the crutch he had, had caught me in the groin. I was bleeding, I was dying. All the hard work had come to nought.
Why was God so cruel? Why hadn't he let me take birth in a particular caste? What should I do now? Agitate or sit on a fast unto death to get SC or ST status for my caste?
No, I won't. I won't resort to rioting, I won't indulge in violence. I will do what millions in this country do. Slog again, again & again, again & again & again, to be denied my fair share, yet again.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
A Tinge of Nervousness
The title has no connnection whatsoever with the contents of the post. It just communicates(crap!i need to do communication system too) the feeling that every teenager appearing for his/her boards goes through.
Recently, I met a certain CM(common man i.e; he told me his name was Narendra Modi) of a certain state(he told me the name of the state was Gujrat) of a certain country(he did not tell me the name of the country so your guess is as good as mine)He said he belonged to a party called BJP which had members with weird names like A-tall Bihari, Ad-vani etc. & he was really pissed off with a lady called Soni-a. Poor chap, he was being hounded by the media, particularly a guy named Karan Thapar and apparently this Karan Thapar offered him only water for all his troubles(I was more courteous though). Wishing for a safe refuge, he entered my house.Poor soul(I pity him!), even I did not spare him(I am not that callous, generally). Here is an excerpt from the interview:
(Modi flanked by his bodyguards arrives)
Naman: Welcome,sir. Please be seated. My 1st Q. is........
Modi(butts in between): I 'll ask the 1st Q. Tell me, "Are you in any way related to Karan-my nemesis-Thapar?"
N: No, sir.
M(Sits down): Very well, then we can continue with the interview.
N: What is all this hullabaloo about EC sending different notices to Ms. Gandhi and you?
M: The EC is clearly biased towards the ruling party at the centre. They haven't asked Soniaben to exercise caution but they tell me, the messiah of the masses, the elected leader of Gujrat to do the same. This is an insult to 5 crore Gujratis. This clearly shows the partisan attitude of the EC. It is a double-headed watch dog. It has different standards for
an Indian and a foreigner,
a Gujarati and a foriegner,
a son of the soil and a foreigner.
N: Between Sir, what would you like to have?
M: A nice, warm, crisp pizza.
N: Very well sir, veering towards the policies of your government, why is there a ban on cow slaughter in Gujrat?
M:ये ५ करोड़ गुजरात वासीओं की भावनाओं से जुडा मामला है। गौमाता धार्मिक आस्था का प्रतीक हैं। You can't play with the emotions of the public. I have simply based my decision on vox populi.(I need votes, man)
N: Going by that logic,shouldn't pig slaughter also be banned in the state?
M: See, we really can't stifle development. Industries are the major drivers of development and we can't shut them down randomly. Gujrat is one of the most developed states in the country and 'll continue to remain so. I have no personal ambitions, no personal interests. I am here only for selfless service, for the betterment of the people of Gujrat. (Have you ever heard a better joke, dude?). "JEETEGA GUJRAT"
N: Talking of ambitions, do you harbour any, to be the PM or as some critics put it, are you larger than the party?
M: If you see beyond me(though you will need an X-ray vision for it), you 'll find the blood (I couldn't agree more) and sweat of a lot of people who have helped reach me this stage. There is no question of someone being bigger than the party(Invariably, that's a sily Q.; I am and will always remain bigger). Advaniji is our leader. The public will support sons of the soil. It will never accept any foreigners(that brightens my chances, doesn't it? Advani came to India from Pakistan during the partition). I will always keep on working in national interest(the same national interest every politico talks about).
N: Sir, what's your stand on the Tasleema Nasreen controversy?
M: The whole thing is quite unfortunate. Both the state as well as the central government are hell bent on appeasing the minorities. I have already stated that if they can't protect her, they should send her to Gujrat(Godhra, actually!)
N: Isn't the M.F. Hussain case more or less similar to the Tasleema Nasreen controversy?
M: No, not at all(can't you see, they belong to differrent religions, you blithering idiot!) There is a subtle difference between the two। We support freedom of expression but the sentiments of the public should not be hurt. Hussain sahab is free to come to India anytime he wishes to (Opposing him gonna garner me more votes than the Sohrabuddin encounter).
N: Today, you take oath as the CM of Gujrat on Mr। Atal Bihari Vajpayee's birthday, who is considered to be the liberal face of BJP। Don't you think BJP needs to shift to Vajpayeeji 's liberal Hinutava than the radical Hindutava you endorse?
M: (I would call you nothing less than a nincompoop. Who in the hell told you that I endorse Hindutava, its only Moditava that I propagate). वाजपेयी जी is a respected leader of ours. वे युगपुरुष हैं। Ideological differences तो होते ही हैं।(I first need an ideology to disagree with someone's ideology, you bumbling baboon).
N: Mr. Modi........
M(looks at his watch): Its time for the oath taking ceremony. A crowd of(to his bodyguard-"how many men did you hire?") 50,000 is waiting for me to take the centrestage(are Advani & Rajnath listening?). Thank you.
DISCALAIMER: All contents and characters of this post are fictional. Any resembelance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
p.s. The journo in me may awake once again if a certain Kalaingar doesn't stop harrassing law students. Kalaingar TV may not broadcast the interview but there is always a ray(or shall I say rays) of hope.
Monday, December 17, 2007
A Seance with Murphy's Ghost
December 17,2007 was nothing less than 9/11 for me(i may rechristen it since i hvnt yet received my board and CAT results bt it stands till then).
The day began on a disastorous note when I was late 4 school. It was only because of the genial English teacher that I averted a fine. I was nonetheless sent out of the class to tie myself with the tie(all rite, I did that myself b4 entering the class when I saw a classmate being sent out 4 d same 'crime')The other periods were pretty routine but dat was b4 it was 12 noon(yeah!I kno what you are thinking;please rein the horses of ur imagination). It was then that the worse that could happen, happened.
The whole class had assembled outside the chemistry lab when I just realised that I hadn't got the most under-utilised, nonetheless essential component of chem pracs-what else but the LAB COAT.I was surely in for a scolding and may be a fine but the drama that followed was unexpected. I had never been such a thing through my entire school life, but as they say everything new happens for the first time.
We(I had three others for company and I was certainly not banking on my companions' rep) were promptly sequestered from the rest of the class and turned out.Nothing extraordinary, of course but then the succeding events took the wind out of my sails.I was aghast when we were told that we could leave.This single sentence worked as a knockout punch and the irony was that I could not even lie down, so we ran from pillar to post from the omnipresent Mohanji to Mr. O.P. to finally the administrator who immediately(that was amazing, i hadn't expected anything short of a harangue) gave us the permission to appear for the exam(at our own risk though!)But Ms.David(oops!Mrs.Menezes)was apprently not yet satisfied. So we, began the exam half an hour later(a total of one hour since half an hour had already passed)
Anyway, once inside the laboratory, my mind started working frantically but alas! the more it worked, the more it confused me.I could write any other test at that time barring the analysis for phenol-the one required.Thankfully, as soon as I opened salt packet no. 44, I breathed a sigh of relief(yeah, I breathed,Kunal was right after all). The amorphous power with a pinkish hue in front of me gave me a high comparable to what cocaine must have done to Rahul Mahajan or Fardeen Khan(hold your horses).It had to be manganese and the subsequent confirmatory tests ruled out any other possibility.The anion too was worked out in a jiffy and the mystery of packet 44 was decoded as manganese sulphate.
Now it was time for titration.I cursed the balance, the funnel, the solution and practically evrything I could(due to lack of time) but finally measured the volume of KMNO4 required.Now, I wanted to breathe again[funnily, some things never change ;)] but there came the dreaded viva. A group of 5-6 boys was given sheets with different questions.So much so good. I was able to answer majority of questions but den I came face to face with the examiner(I wonder what effect will the external have on me!)
(..............to be continued,sometime after I reach Mars)
The day began on a disastorous note when I was late 4 school. It was only because of the genial English teacher that I averted a fine. I was nonetheless sent out of the class to tie myself with the tie(all rite, I did that myself b4 entering the class when I saw a classmate being sent out 4 d same 'crime')The other periods were pretty routine but dat was b4 it was 12 noon(yeah!I kno what you are thinking;please rein the horses of ur imagination). It was then that the worse that could happen, happened.
The whole class had assembled outside the chemistry lab when I just realised that I hadn't got the most under-utilised, nonetheless essential component of chem pracs-what else but the LAB COAT.I was surely in for a scolding and may be a fine but the drama that followed was unexpected. I had never been such a thing through my entire school life, but as they say everything new happens for the first time.
We(I had three others for company and I was certainly not banking on my companions' rep) were promptly sequestered from the rest of the class and turned out.Nothing extraordinary, of course but then the succeding events took the wind out of my sails.I was aghast when we were told that we could leave.This single sentence worked as a knockout punch and the irony was that I could not even lie down, so we ran from pillar to post from the omnipresent Mohanji to Mr. O.P. to finally the administrator who immediately(that was amazing, i hadn't expected anything short of a harangue) gave us the permission to appear for the exam(at our own risk though!)But Ms.David(oops!Mrs.Menezes)was apprently not yet satisfied. So we, began the exam half an hour later(a total of one hour since half an hour had already passed)
Anyway, once inside the laboratory, my mind started working frantically but alas! the more it worked, the more it confused me.I could write any other test at that time barring the analysis for phenol-the one required.Thankfully, as soon as I opened salt packet no. 44, I breathed a sigh of relief(yeah, I breathed,Kunal was right after all). The amorphous power with a pinkish hue in front of me gave me a high comparable to what cocaine must have done to Rahul Mahajan or Fardeen Khan(hold your horses).It had to be manganese and the subsequent confirmatory tests ruled out any other possibility.The anion too was worked out in a jiffy and the mystery of packet 44 was decoded as manganese sulphate.
Now it was time for titration.I cursed the balance, the funnel, the solution and practically evrything I could(due to lack of time) but finally measured the volume of KMNO4 required.Now, I wanted to breathe again[funnily, some things never change ;)] but there came the dreaded viva. A group of 5-6 boys was given sheets with different questions.So much so good. I was able to answer majority of questions but den I came face to face with the examiner(I wonder what effect will the external have on me!)
(..............to be continued,sometime after I reach Mars)
Friday, November 23, 2007
No Smoking
Burn your lungs,no issues but why do it in public? Why aspire to be convicted under section 307 when u can get away with 309?
Smoke,for all u can,but what is the need to dat in the face of other ppl? And no,it is not cool and kickass. On the contrary, it is rather disguting. I wud definitely read out the same msg aloud to all the chimneys (read public smokers) which WWE spectators reseved 4 Kurt Angle (yes,it is blatant plagiarism but cudnt find a better msg. Hope I dont get sued by the National Academic Coordinator).
p.s. If u need to pass by the Mathura Oil Refinery, think of the chimneys and the atomosphere will suddenly feel heavenly.
p.p.s I HATE PUBLIC SMOKERS bt i(dats very TOIish) guess that wont make much of a difference as I am no Angelina Jolie or for that matter Zhang Zi Lin.
Smoke,for all u can,but what is the need to dat in the face of other ppl? And no,it is not cool and kickass. On the contrary, it is rather disguting. I wud definitely read out the same msg aloud to all the chimneys (read public smokers) which WWE spectators reseved 4 Kurt Angle (yes,it is blatant plagiarism but cudnt find a better msg. Hope I dont get sued by the National Academic Coordinator).
p.s. If u need to pass by the Mathura Oil Refinery, think of the chimneys and the atomosphere will suddenly feel heavenly.
p.p.s I HATE PUBLIC SMOKERS bt i(dats very TOIish) guess that wont make much of a difference as I am no Angelina Jolie or for that matter Zhang Zi Lin.
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