Politician: I’ll give you food, clothing and a roof.
Beggar: Oh this Emotional Torture!!!!

So, I was watching “The West Wing”, a show on the lives of people in the White House and the running of the government of USA and it got me thinking, as to why even after 66 years of independence we’re still a developing country and not a developed country. Ask anyone and they’d tell you “It’s the damned government”. And they’re right. It is the damned government. But ask them if they voted this year, and you get answers like “Who’s got the time or state of mind for this kind of stuff?” and “They’re all hooligans. No matter who we vote for. So why bother.”

Here’s a question about democracy that was asked on the show by a NASA employee to the Deputy Chief of Staff (to the President) –

If the theory of democracy is that the people have the most direct connection to officials at the most local level, how come everyone can name the president but no one knows who their assemblymen is?

The answer given was, “Complacency — who knows? That’s like asking why the sky’s blue?”

And I couldn’t agree more. I don’t know who my local representative is. Heck, I don’t even know if we have a local representative. And frankly, I don’t even know where would he/she be representing us, if we did actually have one. And I’m not proud of it. With all that has been going on, everyone’s piling on criticizing the government that we decided to elect. And I know that in a perfect world, elections would not be rigged and politics need not be as dirty as it currently is, but we have to make do with the world we currently live in, don’t we? NO, we don’t. If every one of us or at least a majority of us decided to vote after being aware of our surroundings – more on the lines of who’s doing what and lesser on who’s doing who, there’s a high chance of us actually getting what we want.

And I personally have decided to stop being complacent. Up until now, I was a man with no convictions. But I feel that now is a good time to start feeling responsible. Here’s another quote from another Aaron Sorkin written TV show – The Newsroom (2012)

Nothing is more important in a democracy than a well-informed electorate.

And here’s where the media comes in. Instead of telling me what goes on in the household of a minister I voted for, please tell me what I get in return for voting for him. Instead of airing the incessant name calling of one “party leader” to another, tell me which one of them is doing good to me than the other.

A well informed electorate. I can assure you that about 70% of the people who say they belong to a party, don’t even know what the party stands for. Not necessary that the party should stand for anything, but I’m sure the makers of the party had something in mind when they formed it. Everybody knows their history and what their party did in 1980 or what their opposing party did in 1990, but very few of them actually know what they stand for. Some of them are just personal.

I asked my mom if she voted, ever? She said she didn’t, but added that her whole family supported so-and-so party. When asked why, she simply shrugged and said “That’s how it’s been in our family.”

So my point is, everyone should know that the reason why we are still developing and not yet developed is not only the government, but every single one of us. I’ve decided to vote hereafter, but for that I’ve to do a lot of research as to which side to choose and to whom do I put my vote for. And I hope that you do too.

P.S I am open to any argument you have to make, but if you are offended by any statement made by me, feel free to read the disclaimer on the right side of this page.

P.P.S The title of this post is just a contemplation as to me writing about politics.

Just as I was marvelling at the beauty of the downpour, I had an epiphany. I thought of getting drenched. I ran down, kept my iPod and coffee mug, locked my room and ran upstairs and into the rain.

Image Source : here

I just don’t know what it is, but just standing in the rain, letting the rain fall on your face, trickling down your body is just liberating. I literally felt all my tensions and fears seep away with the water. The realisation that you are free of all judgements because there’s nobody around to judge you and freedom to do anything you want is just exhilarating and it feels like deliverance. I’ve never before felt so peaceful and serene.

The scent of rain on dry earth, the magnificent vision of rain all around you, the pitter-patter of the rain hitting the concrete of the terrace, the taste of water in its purest form, and the feeling of each droplet falling on your face and skin makes you feel divine. This is what you get when every basic sense of your body is stimulated with extreme purity and just awesomeness. I, personally feel that this feeling transcends into something much more than what is perceived as humane. You feel a direct connection to nature, and you discard all your personal baggage and are reduced to your bare human form.

Maybe it’s because I never had such a relationship with anyone so far, but this experience was something that I prefer to have alone. To be with myself, and I’m talking in the spiritual kind of way and not the times that I spend in front of my computer “alone”.

It has been a long time since it rained here and this is the first real downpour in a year or so. The fact that this came in October, which is way past the monsoon season is in itself a phenomenon.

I feel it’s gonna rain like this for days
So let it rain down and wash everything away
I hope that tomorrow the sun will shine
I feel it’s gonna rain like this
Rain like this
Rain like this

Fall down
Wash away my yesterdays
Fall down
So let the rain fall down on me

-Creed (Rain)

Please do forgive me for sounding childish… Rain makes you feel childish!

Image Source: Here

It has been 7 years since I lived in Mumbai. The one thing I miss the most is the rains. Now, I’m not trying to be all poetic and all, but Mumbai rains are different. And different good. Maybe it’s because of the pollution or the population; I really don’t know what it is. Just sitting on my balcony, listening to the pitter-patter and reading a book is something that I miss, really badly. The icing on the cake would’ve been if I had a cup of coffee, to top it all off.

Image source: click on the image

Well since I am in the reminiscing mood, I’d also like to reminisce about vada-pavs, paani-puris and pav-bhajis.

Man! I do miss Mumbai!!

For those of you who really miss the rains go to this website and close your eyes. Trust me, it’s the best feeling you’ll ever have!

Now, about the book; The Krishna Key is the third book of Ashwin Sanghi, the author of the bestselling “Rozabal Line” and the award winning “Chanakya’s Chant”. Even though the author gives a fair disclaimer pertaining to the historical places, names and everything else being a figment of his imagination, it is pretty hard to believe that, once you read the book. It is filled with intricate details about everything, to an extent that one would actually believe all of the “facts” (in the book) to be true.

This book is the story of a serial killer, who has a misplaced sense of being the tenth incarnation of Lord Vishnu. A history professor, along with his favourite pupil, has to uncover the secrets that the serial killer and his mentor seek. Many characters come and go, in this absolute page turner of an thriller, but Ashwin Sanghi has really managed to keep the readers hooked on to the story even as he balances the various characters effortlessly. Even though the title says The Krishna Key, the story revolves around nuclear reactors, radioactive substances, Shiva-lingams,  historical events, the advent of various religions, races and castes and with unbelievable “facts” that are made believable through the author’s keen usage of words and sense of language.

Mind blowing twists and turns in the story, the characters’ likeability, and the snippets of the Krishna story (explained in first person) will make you want to keep reading.

Personally, though, I feel that the ending was a bit disappointing. In-spite of the great twists and the thrilling storyline, the way the book ended was a bit too mundane. Nevertheless, credit has to be given to the author for the amount of research he’s done for this book. An eleven page reference legend has been provided just to showcase the amount of time and preparation that went into the making of this exciting story.

The extensive use of pictures and images, enhances the reading experience at the same time indulges you into the story. Another warning, right at the start of the book, says that

“This book uses several images to explain details within the story. Flipping to the back of the book prematurely may result in your inadvertently viewing some images that could act as plot-spoilers, hence this is not advised.”

And I would personally advise you too, as to not be a nosy posy and flip to the end. Read and enjoy the book (Not sure why I said both, because either way, you do both).

About the author : Ashwin Sanghi is an entrepreneur by profession but writing historical fiction in the thriller genre is his passion and hobby. He holds a master’s degree from Yale and is working towards a Ph.D. in creative writing. He lives in Mumbai with his wife, Anushika, and son, Raghuvir.

Here is his website: www.sanghi.in
This review is a part of the Book Reviews Program at BlogAdda.com. Participate now to get free books!

Image Source: here

This is not a post for winning the Indiblogger contest. This post is a desperate attempt on my part to come out of the “writer’s block” that I have been facing recently. This topic by Indiblogger just got my thoughts running and got my fingers typing. But since the good people at Sony entertainment are giving out free hampers for every valid entry, the Indian or should I say the “Malayali” in me got greedy.

Love Marriage or Arranged Marriage?

As far as I’m concerned, one should only marry another person if they love each other. I’m a bit iffy on the whole concept of love (how there is no love between two people, just caring and compatibility), but that’s a whole different story.

Now, coming to the “love” marriage part. If two people believe they are “in-love”, and can bear each other for the rest of their lives, then I believe they should marry each other. And like Aamir Khan, so powerfully suggested in Satyameva Jayate, any person after they reach the adulthood age (so prescribed by the government), can marry anyone they like. And I believe in it. If you are happy in a relationship, then no matter what the society thinks or (I’ll go a bit bolder and say) no matter what your parents say, it’s your life! You are absolutely free to do anything. And I personally don’t think any parent can be unforgiving, if at all they think you are committing a mistake.

But on the other hand, I also believe in taking things slowly. You do not get married after 6 months or even a year after “knowing” each other. You have to be absolutely together. I think live-in relationships are the measuring sticks. It also checks out my compatibility theory. Only after you live with another person for a period of time will you actually know the person. His/her habits, likes, dislikes, behaviour, addictions, whether you like them in their mornings, whether you like their coffee, how lazy are they exactly, everything. It’s like beta testing your marriage. If your relationship can handle this, then you can actually be confident about your marriage*.

*T&C apply: The entire system may or may not crumble with additions to the family. (For the scarcely brained, I mean babies)

Arranged marriages are for people who are either too busy with their lives doing work, raking in money or for people who cannot find someone compatible enough. A third possibility for going for arranged marriage is what they call “respect for their parents”. They say parents know what’s best for us and they will decide whom I should spend the rest of my life with. If this is the reason people give for getting married with approximate strangers, then they are, in my opinion, losers. Not because they respect their parents’ decision. But because they are either too spineless to make their own decisions or they are too afraid to actually go out and find someone compatible.

The major problem with this is, later on, when you find out that you are not compatible for each other, you have no one to blame! Because, obviously, you love your parents too much. If you marry the one you “love”, the least you could do is acknowledge the fact that you made a mistake and move on.

Now that was the negative side of it. The one bit of silver lining I see is, if the one your parents pitched you with is truly compatible, then your relationship is going to be one of the best relationships (Unless of course some shady gf/bf from the past comes back to haunt you). There was this Tamil movie called “Silinoru Kadhal”, where the daughter of a happy-arranged-marriage couple explains to an unhappy-fighting-love-marriage couple’s son why her parents are so happy. She says,

“Your parents loved and got married, right? My parents married and then started loving each other.”

Anyways, if you ask me how I’d like to get married, I’d say I’d rather be with someone I’m sure I like, than get married and then decide whether to like her or not.

P.S I totally forgot to mention this before, but better late than never. I was interviewed by Desire v/s Destiny and here’s the link. This was a long time back, and I did a couple of posts too much, but I forgot to mention this here, so here goes.

P.P.S A bit of an afterthought – Love marriages can also be converted into Arranged marriages, but that’s another story, too.

This is just so wrong…so wrong…in so many ways..on so many levels.

Image Source : here

Do you know what distinguishes the entire Indian subcontinent from the ‘western world’? Of course, apart from the fact that they are much more civilised, advanced, and developed. The one thing that I noticed about their way of living is their disrespect for the ground. You read right, disrespect.

Did you ever notice that they never sit on the ground? While we consider ‘Mother Earth’ to be divine and ‘pure’, they have absolutely nothing but resent for the terra firma. All our ‘holy’ ceremonies are conducted on the earth that we stand on. But the only response to a person sitting/laying/doing anything but standing on the floor from a ‘westerner’ is “Get you a** of the floor.”

We conduct marriages sitting down. Right from the birth of a child, his ‘naming ceremony’ (which is an utter waste of time, according to me, but more on that later), and all his rituals are conducted on the ground. While the westerners (I don’t know why I keep saying that, although the world is round, well an elliptical sphere, but still you get the idea), have their marriages/weddings in  a church, wearing their Sunday best, not to mention standing up, we prefer doing it in front of a fire on the ground sitting down in our dhotis/mundus.

For them, sitting down automatically implies, on a chair. You ask an Indian to sit down, and he WILL sit DOWN! He will sit on the ground with crossed legs as if lunch is about to be served. The only time you’d ever find a European or an American do it is if they are practising yoga, which is India’s national exercise, apparently.

And don’t even get me started on the way the Indian sub-continent does do-do and wee-wee. But I can make my peace with that, since the Indian government doesn’t have enough funds to build a European-style toilet in every home. But to those who prefer to use the Indian method, which, by the way, is far less sanitary and highly ridiculous, I just want to ask this – WHY?

I’m not dissing on the people who do this, and by this I mean sitting on the floor/ground, and NOT the toilet thing, I just don’t understand the obsession of the Indian culture with the mud. If you really want to please Mother Nature, go plant a tree, and stop shi**ing on her. You go take a morning walk through the countryside of a city early in the morning. I dare you. It is a plethora of human genitalia ranging throughout the roadside or a bit deeper into the woods, not so deep that they can’t be seen nor the way that you can see their woo-woos and what-nots.

Even the way we, especially Tamilians (I’ve noticed) drink their coffee in that squatting position. Why do they do that? Isn’t it bad enough that they do it for do-do-ing? Should they assume the same position while drinking something as divine as coffee? This post was inspired from one of the same sights of one of ‘them’ drinking coffee in that manner one evening.

Now for the disclaimer, because without it I’ll be accused of insensitivity and ignorance, just kidding.

This post has nothing to do with the farmer community or any other community that earns their living by toiling hard on the field or roads or any other form of ground there is. This goes out to the people who do white collar jobs all day and have no qualms about eating from a leaf sitting on the ground, which differentiates them in no way, from how one would feed an animal.

Now I must also add, that much to my distaste, I bow to social conventions and have eaten in a similar fashion before and would continue to shamelessly do so in the future, because apparently that is the way of our ancestors, and who am I to question their indisputably sensible ways of living.

Image Source : here

I’m in Kerala, right now, attending to the chores and rituals of the pre-wedding/pre-marital of my dear cousin. And it is because of this pre-disposition that I was away from my dear blog. But, the awesome guy that I am, I found just enough time in between the engagement and the wedding, and all the hazy hastiness that surrounds me, to come up with a post. So, kudos to me!

Now that I’ve praised myself, I can carry on with my post. This is a list of reasons why I hate wearing a ‘lungi’. Now, for those who are unaware of ‘the lungi’ (Scientific name = ‘mundu’), the lungi is a piece of cloth, usually cotton, 220×115 dimensions, and is worn around the waist like a skirt, minus the puffiness. In Kerala, lungis are open, in contrast to those in Bengal or Tamil Nadu, which are tube-like and one has to hop into them and then tighten them.

Now for the staple food of South India… Just Kidding. Enough with the geography class already!

Even though it seems like what a woman would wear for an underskirt, it really is manly. Apparently, the ‘madaki kuthu’ move conveys more emotions than classical dancers do. Anyways, the feminine aspect of wearing a skirt-like object is the least of my worries. Well, not the least, but still.

Reasons why I don’t like wearing lungi:

• You cannot run instantaneously. Not that such a need arises frequently, but still. For example, you are standing on the street, drinking coffee, while all of a sudden you see an old lady being robbed. The thief starts to run and you know you can outrun him. People are staring at the incident and then giving you looks, mainly because you’re the only young guy around. In this urgent situation, you cannot run behind the thief willy-nilly. You stand there, folding your lungi into horizontal halves and then pinning them with a knot (the ‘madaki kuthu’) and then, and only then can you pursue the guy, who by the way, must have reached the next city by that time. You wear pants/shorts/trousers/clown suit, all you have to do is throw away the glass in your hand and go get the son of a… ahem… you get the idea.
• The respect factor. Now, the custom doesn’t end with full grown men wearing lungis. It further dictates that one should not have their lungis in a knot (pun intended, go figure)…ahem… in a madaki kuthu state, whilst in the presence of elders. So every time you see an elder approaching you, the first thing you do is release the mundu from its half fold stage, otherwise, you somehow disrespect/offend them. This boggles me. How does half removing a dress show respect? Well in any case, there’s no rule that one should pull down their pants half-way down when they see someone elder. Thank God for that!
• The knot conundrum. As much as I like knots and ropes, I for one, do not prefer to keep tying the knot of my lungi every 20-30 steps I take.(Yeah! I counted!) No matter how skilled you are at wearing lungis, the knot is bound to unfurl at any moment depending upon the situation. And sometimes, when you are oblivious to the unpinning of the lungi, one can only hope that the number of spectators to the mortification is to a minimum. Needless to say, the only things that can go wrong with a pant, unless you tear it of course, are the clasps or the zippers, both of which can be managed by quickly pulling out your shirt!
• Freedom…much? As much as I like freedom down under, too much freedom at times is umm… irritating or even distracting, may be. Suppose you go for a walk. Nice, calm, quiet atmosphere surrounds you. You love the wind blowing at your face, through your hair. You can feel the little tufts/flowing hair rustling and flying in the wind. And all of a sudden you feel the wind touch your bare thighs. The next thing you do is frantically look around for the piece of clothing that isn’t doing its job. The next time I feel like having freedom, I’ll remember to wear boxers, thank you very much!
• Peeing Issues. No comment! I have full faith in my readers to understand the difficulties in wearing a lungi and peeing standing up!

Let’s just say that I’ve trouble trusting my “honour” on a piece of cloth tied to my waist, that may or may not let go at its own whim.

Disclaimer: I’ve got nothing but admiration for those who wear lungis and manage to carry on with their lives.

Why do I need to wear them, you ask? I’m forced by the society and culture of my region (my elders) to wear this thin piece of clothing that makes a man look like a shawarma wrap. Every single time I’m (forcefully) taken to a temple, I’m made to wear this god-forsaken thing.

But to be fair, I do wear it voluntarily, at times, when I’m at home and the only things that may judge me are the cartoons on my coffee mug!

P.S I love saying lungi! (lungee!)

Image Courtesy: here

Wondering where I was, the past week? No? Well, I bet you are now! Since, I planted that question on your brain/mind. This is how much I love to manipulate people. I digress.

Anyways, I was sick for the last two – three days. Yeah, I had a cold at first. You know, the common one. And then, the coughing began. Then came the wheezing, and the retching. And then one fine morning, I woke up, and felt excruciating pain over my right eye.

Is it just me, or was that a sign of impending danger from Voldemort? When I did come to my senses, later on, I realised that since my parents were very much alive and can pretty much deny any contact with the Dark Lord whatsoever, it must be something else. And as it turns  out, it was.

Apparently, the mucus  (yuck!) from my nose had lodged somewhere in my head, presumably over my right eye and that explained the pain. No wonder, I thought about Voldemort at that time, my head was occupied by mucus!

And well, two days of steaming my face off (you see what I did there?), drinking horrible tasting cough syrup and practically turning my nose inside out every half hour, later, my condition got better.

And by better I mean, good enough to check my blogs and stuff, without having to clean my keyboard of mucus and spit.

And what better welcoming gift can I get than two blog awards for my blog! I will post them later on, but as of now, I’m very thankful to each of my presenters for even liking my blog, let alone considering it for an award.

Well, after my euphoria of winning these awards, I went into retrospection mode. Should I accept these awards. And don’t get me wrong, I’m not going all Aamir Khan on these bloggers, I just thought about whether I should be writing whole new posts for these awards, which basically ask the same things (random things about you, and to nominate other bloggers).

I can probably do with the random stuff about me stuff, but nominating others is a bit… umm… awkward/weird. Because if I choose, say A, then B will get mad as to why I didn’t choose him/her. And then maybe a sense of derision, may arise, which I do not want. Moreover it will be so hard for me to choose among so many bloggers and pretty good ones at that.

And then again (it may seem like Sheldon talking, but still), when I accept an award, I also accept the responsibilities that come along with the award. So, if I present it to someone else, wouldn’t that mean I’m imposing on him/her the very same responsibilities that I didn’t want in the first place?

But then won’t I be kind of, insulting the person, who gave me the award, if I don’t play by the rules? And, the awards mean a lot to me, believe me! I mean, it has just been four months, since this blog has been started, and  to get awards already, is a big deal… At least for me, it is.

Hmm… well the answer to this conundrum will be found. This kind of thinking calls for an extra cup of coffee or maybe two. And as and when I do, you’ll see the awards post right here on my blog.

Waking Life

I just saw this movie “Waking Life” which is an excellent movie, by the way, and in it I found this particular part, where they speak about the language and words, quite intriguing. To quote Waking Life:

“It’s always our decision, who we are. Creation seems to come out of imperfection. It seems to come out of a striving and a frustration. And this is where I think language came from… I mean, it came from our desire to transcend our isolation… and have some sort of connection with one another.”

And I find it so true! I mean, it was the very need to fulfil man’s loneliness, his emptiness that he created language. And I also love to imagine the first guy to speak just blabbering stuff and using sign language. I mean, I always picture a caveman just going bonkers with his club and trying to tell the caveman in front of him to stop screwing with his wife!

But, on a more serious note, it is this feeling of wanting to express oneself, that led to the invention of language. That’s like telling you it’s the need of transportation/pottery that led to the creation of the wheel, right? I know, Necessity is the mother of Invention, blah blah…

But here’s where I make my point, or rather the woman in Waking Life makes her point:

“But when it gets really interesting, I think, is when we use that same system of symbols to communicate… all the abstract and intangible things that we’re experiencing. What is, like, frustration? Or what is anger or love?

When I say “love”, the sound comes out of my mouth…  and it hits the other person’s ear, travels through this Byzantine conduit in their brain, you know, through their memories of love or lack of love, and they register what I’m saying and say yes, they understand.

But how do I know they understand?

Because words are inert. They’re just symbols. They’re dead, you know?”

And that is exactly how I feel! Like words don’t mean a thing! I mean, now-a-days, I’ve seen people use “love” frequently. Like everywhere! Last week, I lent a guy some bucks, he turned to me and said “I love you man!” And I was bewildered! What do you reply to that? I don’t love him. I never had any amorous feelings towards him. Frankly, I don’t even care for him! I know him through college and that’s it! But, he? He loves me!

So you see, for him, the word love doesn’t mean anything! But is he incapable of love? I don’t think so!

Similarly, we know what each word means, either because we were taught or brought up that way, or because Webster (or *insert your dictionary here*)  says so. It is only these words that give meaning to the meaningless, and yet have no meaning of their own. Like for example: A pencil. A sudden image that rushes to your mind is that of a wooden object with a lead tip. Now, when you say wooden object, wood/trees is what occupies our mind (same goes for lead). Now, trees, you think of foliage/ the colour green maybe. You see where this is going, right? It is an inception of words, that make absolutely no sense and yet makes the most sense anything could ever make.

Even the great Shakespeare said,

“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose. By any other name would smell as sweet”

And I couldn’t agree more! There’s nothing in words which we speak and yet it conveys almost everything one needs to convey.

Books and books, novels, newspapers, media everywhere you turn you are enveloped with nothing but words and more words. Each of them changing their meaning, in every different context.

The very words that my bankrupt friend told me, had it been said by some good lady friend of mine, I would’ve practically gone insane! It is this power of words that makes a pen mightier than a sword!

To all those who endured through this rant of mine, “NO I’M NOT HIGH!” Maybe, bit caffeine high. Or just extremely sleepy. No, that’s not it. I’d go with caffeine high! Yup definitely that.

This is what happens when you watch a philosophical movie and have gulped down 3 cups of rich coffee!

 Image Courtesy:here

It was a regular day in class. And when I say regular, I mean, boring. Staff coming in, saying stuff no one really gives a damn about, asking questions no one knows the answers to, scolding, advising, face-palming at the ignorance and alleged arrogance of the students and finally going back in utter dismay. Then, the next ‘teacher’ comes in and repeats the cycle.

But usually, we back benchers have something better to do with ourselves. We draw, we write, we create poetry, we craft out 3d cartoons, in-fact, the back-benchers of any class are supposed to be the creative bunch of the whole class. The fastest and the greatest minds are that of the back-benchers.

“The best brains of the nation may be found on the LAST BENCHES of the classroom”

-APJ Abdul Kalam

 And on one such eventless day, when an extra class for two hours had been arranged by our ‘respected staff’, we were bored to our very core. We almost ran out of ideas, and had half a mind to run out of the class, too.

It was during this time of duress, that we noticed this fellow sitting right in-front of us, whom we designate, for the time being, as V, going berserk on his phone. Now, we, the law abiding morons that we are (were), didn’t use phones in our class. One of the benefits of being a back-bencher is that, the further away from the first bench you are, the more afraid/respectful, people are, of you.

Using this to our benefit, we snatched the phone from the poor guy and started fiddling with it. Now, don’t get me wrong here, V was our friend and we treated him to an extravagant treat afterwards, for his lifesaving kindness.

He had the Internet pack activated and was playing games online (!) while the ingenuous professor babbled on about chemical bonds and other chemistry… related… stuff.

We turned the boring mundane day into a tournament. We took turns at it and competed within ourselves for the highest scores. The seemingly dull day was turned into the start of an era of mobile internet gaming. The days of looking painfully at watches, sleeping in class (which was frowned upon even by our peers.) were over and thus began our in-class gaming session.

The next hour, to our utter dismay was a pop-quiz! Now, here’s another tit-bit about us, back-benchers. We can pass/clear any quiz/exam, as long as it is foretold. But if you decide that you can just barge in to our class and ask us mind-numbing queries, you’ve got a whole another thing coming!

Here’s our reaction to the pop-quiz announcement: We look at each other, as if we do not comprehend the very meaning of pop-quiz. Then, there is the look of contempt at the professor, and then again to each other, this time questioning each other of the veracity of the situation.

But not this time! By the powers of discretion and world-wide-web vested on us by the back benches and by Vodafone (God Bless them and V, for activating internet.) we answered almost every question correctly, referring of course to Mr. Know-it-all (Wikipedia) and pretty strategically answered some questions erroneously, to avoid any controversial doubts on the professors’ blessed minds.

Well, long story short, the looks on the faces of the studious first benchers were priceless as we, the back benchers, again triumphed over them after the results. So, thus Vodafone Internet saves the day as V came to our rescue as our knight in not-so-shining armour!