Monday, March 08, 2010

That explains it

Bhartrhari is one of those Sanskrit poets who leaks vitriol and fire wherever you touch him. His angry rants about fools, full of the most delightful, full-mouthed, heartily aspirated mahaapraanas, are an absolute treat for those days when you just hate the world.

I was wondering why the poor chap had so much ... (wait for it)... negative energy (yes, my job involves a dangerously large management component) when I chanced upon this verse of his:

यां चिन्तयामि सततं मयि सा विरक्ता
सा अप्यन्यम् इच्छति जनं स जनो अन्यसक्तः |
अस्मत् कृते च परिशुष्यति काचिद् अन्या
धिक् तां च तं च मदनं च इमां च मां च ||

yaaM chintayaami satataM mayi saa viraktaa
saa apyanyam ichChati janaM sa jano anyasaktaH |
asmat kRRite cha parishuShyati kaachid anyaa
dhik taaM cha taM cha madanaM cha imaaM cha maaM cha ||

"The girl who I think of all day totally doesn't dig me, and she's after some other guy. That dick is after some other chick, and meanwhile because of my doing (of rejecting her? more?) one other girl is suffering. To hell with her, him, Love, this other one, and me!"

There. Clearer than Swami Nityananda's dedication to ananda-yoga.


I found this when I was searching for more fundaes about this absolutely fantabulously unbelievably epic bit of very old school wit, which I found via - who else? - Shreevatsa. Among the little gems of wit one collects with the bleak hope of flooring that super-cute chick in the bus the day one will finally manage to make eye contact and (gasp!) conversation with her, this one is verily the Koh-i-Noor:

There's metre iambic
and metre trochaic
and metre that's tender in tone.
But the metre
that's neater
and sweeter
is meet her by moonlight, alone.


Thursday, March 04, 2010

Notes from a budding adventure

It is a rare moment in these debauched times of Kali, gentle reader, that one thoroughly enjoys doing something for its own sake; when that something stands by itself as a pleasant memory without needing to be an inflection point in a larger 'success' story arc. One therefore treasures such moments, and writes blog posts on them in hopes that one's readers don't notice one really has nothing to say.


X: "So what do we do this evening?"

[Deep mulling]

Y, in all seriousness: "How about Go-Karting?"
Z: "Uhm, err, Go-Karting eh? Uhmmmm no da..."

Y: "Good. I just wanted to make sure I got it out of the way before anyone else actually came up with it. How silly can a sport possibly get?"


X: "Macha, Money is fine da. I want Power in life."

Y: "Ah. I want to be in a position where people do not know that I wield a lot of power."

Z, speaking in the tone of a patient, experienced teacher gently reminding a pupil of an obvious part of the question he's missed answering: "But macha, do you want to be in that position while you actually have power, or when you don't have power?"

[Everyone instinctively understands there has been an epic moment. You can actually hear people thinking the logic through, before it hits everyone with the rousing force that N.D.Tiwari brand Musli powder ads hit the local TV circuit]

Y: "Macha obviously! If I don't have power and people don't know that I have power, ...."


X: "Macha IITM sucks now da. Our juniors don't do a tenth of the things we did."

Y: "I disagree. They are doing a lot of cool new things." [In a suave, smug, confident tone like that of Alan Shore in full flow when he's found just the perfect anecdote to make his case] "My juniors brewed beer in the wing."

Z: "Hey Pota's father's wing junta did that and they all got diarrhea the next day."


"Hey stop. You know what? Every base is base '10'. 2 in Base 2 is '10'. 3 in Base 3 is '10'. 10 in Base 10 is '10'. Just sayin'."

General junta: "WTF?"


"Fundamentally speaking, the job involves maximizing exports of Fair-and-Lovely cream to one of its most promising emerging markets, Kenya. It's hard for even the fraudest MBA to live knowing that."


Bonguly [MP3; Warning: NSFW, explicit.]


"See, we all want a caring, loving, understanding angel of a girl who wouldn't fall for cheap charms and wouldn't be impressed by momentary displays of wit. Therefore, by definition, the perfect girl is one who'll never fall for us."


"They do bloody Iyengar Investing, like Islamic Investing. Total cocksuckers man.They called X for an interview, and at the end asked him for a reference. He gave his McKinsey Associate Principal's contact. The fuckers called the Associate Principal up, asked crappy questions about X's math skills and school scores for 1 whole hour in the middle of a working day, and at the end, asked for a reference who could speak about him. WTF?"


"..but all that is fine man. What I want to know is, you're given this one life. What do you want to make with it?"

[Deep, thoughtful pause]