Hari Balaji

Hari Balaji
Hari Balaji
Hari Balaji
Hari Balaji
Hari Balaji
Hari Balaji
Hari Balaji
Hari Balaji

Hari Balaji

Hari Balaji
Hari Balaji
Hari Balaji
Hari Balaji
Hari Balaji
Hari Balaji

An important announcement

Over the past few days I've learnt two things:
1. This blog has atleast 1 reader
2. And this blog seriously affected his life

So here are some disclaimers -

All characters depicted in this blog are the property of the author. These characters and events are fictional and any resemblance to persons living, dead, or fictional or situations past, present, or fictional is purely and completely coincidental.

What you see and what you get

Snow White she sleeps in a coffin of glass
Needing a prince to waken her, alas
Her prince is here
But out of fear
He stands non-plussed beside the lass.

And then she while still in her dreams
With outstretched arms gets up and screams
Kiss me now
He did and how !
She woke up and him her sweetheart deemed

The question then that remains unsolv'd
Is whether the prince did anything at all
Or did Snow White
Of her own might
Rouse herself with free-will and all ?

And if you choose to ponder my friend
The riddle it here does far from end
Chains of sense; hard
Are they to discard
Can you lose them by your own intent ?

Its simple they tell me do one and all
Just love her and let her be thats all

The Synchro Saga

These are Juices I posted for Synchro the most magnificent creature the Lord ever created.

Sucheta "Synchro" Mahapatra - Dorm 1
WIP

Bharati "Chikki-Clownie-Jo" Balakrishnan - Dorm 2
She got there first she did did LAN ?
But does she even know the meaning of elan ?
Look at me I'm tall dark and handsome
Some come along if you think you want some !
Remember the secrets that overcom shared ?
Isn't it high time the two of us paired ?


Deepak "Foamiii" Tomar

I shall not call you synchro. I think it is a very stupid name. Sucheta is much
sweeter. It feels like temple bells are ringing when I hear someone say it.

At the end of a tiring placement day
When all my energy's sapped away
What keeps me alive
Is only your smile
Like arctic ice gently thawed by sunray

In order to prove my true love for you I will try hard a grow a lovely beard
which you so seem to love before final placements.
=========================

Hari "Bulco" Balaji - Dorm 4
WIP ;)

Arshad Pervez - Dorm 5
Seems impossible !

Sravan "Segu" Sreerama - Dorm 6
WIP

Sushanth "Tadka" Daliparthi - Dorm 7
Segu I'm sorry I was drunk when I like you I said
I meant Synchro but I used your name instead
No hard feelings, No love lost
Let bygones be bygones and past be past
I'll buy you a beer please get off by back
And please return all those printer catridge packs

Vivek "Pondy" D - Dorm 8
WIP

Abhimanyu Jha - Dorm 9

He sternly looked at the computer and commenced typing.

"Working for the Placement Committee has brought me nothing," he thought.
He looked out of the window and wondered.
"You need a lot of dedication to be a good placecommer. The work is its own
end." he remembered Sidin telling them.
That was one year ago.
"What was the one thing that binds us all ?" he wondered.
It was definitely the fact that they were all so selfless. So noble.
"Noble minds think alike" - he wondered why that came to mind right now.

Thoughtlessly he opened DBabble.
He looked at the many NBs that were all bold and bursting with images waiting to be read.
He double clicked at a random location on the screen.
Juice NB.
Hmm. Looks like all the placecommers in town were expressing their interest in
one extremely desirable young woman.
"Noble minds think alike"
He remembered.
It all made sense.

He sternly looked at the computer and commenced typing.

Well, dreams are dreams, and are more so when they belong to someone else.

Karan "KP" Paul - Dorm 10

C:\Documents and Settings\User\Desktop\Synchro.bat

Synchro dearest you tempt me to sin
The blood in me boils from within
Its you I long for
In this waking hour
As I drearily set up CVs to print

I dream of pleasant meadows green
Of distant lands that I've never seen
Of shining stars
Supernovas afar
Will you walk by my side as I live my dreams ?

Asynchronously yours

Karan
D1002
Ph: 7002 / 98795 91922

Anusha "LAN" Srinivasan - Dorm 11
When I watched the movie monster I had tears in my eyes.
I wondered why then. Tis only now that I've realised
"Love conquers all." "Every cloud has a silver lining."
I know exactly what Aileen was saying
"Faith can move mountains." "Love will always find a way."
How true, how true, is all that I can say
"Everything happens for a reason." "Where there is life, there is hope."
Synchro decide now shall we elope ?
I am tall and strong like like Charlize Theron
And you're my Christina Ricci, we'll surely bond
We might not get to ride Alabama Strauss
But surely CG Road and all the charrastas.
Please tell me now I'll arrange for a bike
Let everyone with a problem just go take a hike !

EVIL GRIN

Heavent "Pinky" Malhotra - Dorm 12
OOS ! :((((

Devarajan "Deva" Nambakan - Dorm 13
WIP

Sunil "Pele" Tirumalai - Dorm 14
Before I say anything about love
Let me quickly give you an intro
Sunil Tirumalai a pucca tam bloke
Born and brought up in Bangalore
The best dancer in campus they say
I smile and blush ..Hello C&W this is Pele
No Shrijit is not around bye
Try his cell his number 98258 04885
Yeah so what was I saying tchah I forget :(
Once placements are over get set
I promise to show you the time of your life ?
Buckle up Synchro its gonna be one hell of a ride !

Suresh "Gayab" Chand - Dorm 15
WIP

.
.
.

Shrijit "Paldy" Plappally - Dorm 18
Whenever I hear your name I get goosebumps. I used to wonder why till I
recalled a reference to this phenomenon in the Ramayana. When Sita was in the
Ashokavan alone and distress her only confidante was Sarama the ogress who
experienced the same wrt Rama. Much later she relates that on careful
examination she found the Lord's name on each strand of her tresses
microscopically engraved. Science tells us today that this phenomenon is due to
resonance. The tresses that adorned the lady's head were of a natural frequency
that perfectly corresponded with the mellifluous overtones in the pronunciation
of the Lord's name.

I tell you Synchro the very same is true of me. When I used my contact lenses
and spectacles in a magnificent combination to form a severely convex optical
lens of more than 22 diopters I found clearly engraved the words sanah kaka
which translates from Sanskrit to sin(crow) or synchro in phonetic terms - what
you are referred to in the English language. I exalted at this miraculous
discovery.

Is it a coincidence then that you decided to skip PFM B and attend A instead last week ?
Is it a coincidence that we are both in the same placecom ?
Is it a coincidence then that I should discover all this in a week where a lot
of others have discovered a strange bonding with your pious name ?

Tell me Synchro do you feel it too ?

CL Keethi "Dosa" Vasan - Dorm 20
Synchro now what do I say ?
Why do I visit D1 everyday ?
If you said Mixie
I should think you're tipsy
For none but you do I crave

Your cherubic smiling face
Your diminutive feminine grace
Where else can I find
Such a beautiful mind
With looks that set my heart ablaze ?

I normally stay awake for three or four days at a stretch. But in order to
prove my love I vouch to stay awake till the last fachcha gets placed. I hope
my supernatural dedication to placecom activity will make you fall head over
heels in love wiht me ....

Dosa

Devoid of Synchro's Attention :(

Raja "Raja" Ramachandra - Dorm 22
Synchro I cant stand this one bit !
The nerve of that nincompoop halfwit !
Does he not see
That your loyalties
Lie within overcom's ambit ?

Your able companion for nine months now
As summers come by its time to show
The rest of the world
Let your love unfurl
Let everyone know that I'm your beau !

Cheers!!
Dhuan....(Raja @ 6273/98795 91928)
_____________________________________________________
"...BACKWARDS understood be only can but forwards lived be must life" -
Kierkegaard Soren ....KEEP WALKING
##########################################################################

Rain

i wondered if it was love that I felt. they told me i'd know i dont have to think about it. today its raining. i dont like the rain too much. its always like a catharsis. today it brings nothing but joy. I wrote something. I've lost a lot of negative energy and this sure is lame. its gonna sound like st. anger after reload and thats pathetic.
But what the heck.

Clad in nothing but a turkish towel
A silly verse I sit down to write
I open the balcony doors of my room
And watch it come down what a pretty sight !
Rain today I love you so !
What a brilliant morning I must say
How I wish it would rain and rain
And stay that way the entire day
I dont wanna go out and get drenched
I am not the get wet type at all
All I want to do is pick up the phone
And she who resides in my dear heart call
In her bed we'll lie down then holding each other ever so tight
And listen to pitter patter sounds disturb the silence from morning to night

Aiche
Post breakfast on a really really really rainy day.

Aheti - Chapter 3

Writing fiction - a story called Aheti about a white explorer who falls in love with this African tribeswoman. Need to do lots of research. Gonna wait for that ppo and then give up and write this nice and proper. Have not named the tribe :(


I watched nervously from my seat beside my translator who I had come to believe was well-respected in the tribe. Unlike Africans of an older generation these people believed in the power of education. In fact the most promising children of the tribe were separated from the rest and groomed for a more responsible life. They would be sent off to schools in Kinshasa for a more conventional form of education and would return to the village to hold administrative duties. The crowd was cheering.

"What is going to happen now ?"
He looked at me with a stern face. He squinted his eyes a wee bit and sighed.
"Something that is a shame. Something that even education has failed to change."
A ritual of some sort I figured. I removed my camera from my backpack and slung it over my neck.
"Nell !"
It was the chieftain's bodyguard. He glared at me with harsh eyes that would burn holes through me if I were made of paper. He did not want me taking photographs here. I put my camera back in.

A man was brought in our midst. He was frail and clothed in rags. His hands were tied behind his back and his bare torso held scars of a recent whipping. He stood proudly for whatever he held and showed no signs of fear or remorse. And then it happened.

"Aheti nina kula ye", shouted the chieftain.

From behind the women's quarters which were usually separated and behind a screen she strode out bare-footed across the sand that would have been hot enough to scald a white man's feet. Tall, slender and graceful. Aheti walked so effortlessly that if she strolled by the beachside you would find not footprints. It was as if the wind would anytime now lift her off the ground and carry her back to paradise where she came from. She picked up a axe that hung from a defense post and she approached the centre of the ground. The man was on his knees pleading. A man of two dozen summers - tall and ably built now crying like a child. She stood in front of him; axe in hand.

Dark as the moonless night, nay the first quarter. Not dark enough to please a shallow man who would please himself just with the color of a person's face. Dark enough just to let the viewer eyes gaze stay upon her to notice more. Dark so that her powerful yet plain features would command a respect of their own when someone gazed upon her intently - without having to compete with a more appealing but less important feature as itself. Hair as curly as a river that lost its path and searches hopefully in the middle of nowhere and how I wish would never find the ocean it seeks. Eyebrows thin as the sliver of the first day moon shielding large eyes that seemed to swallow the world they gazed upon. Her dark pupils glinted in the sunlight. A long pointed nose - a nose characteristic of her tribe - a nose that could well be used in a book on world culture to show the ignorant how a tribesman of her clan might be identified and could well be part of the collage that would adorn the book's cover. And lips - the exact opposite of the nose. Very unlike what one might see with a commoner of her tribe - not thick and fleshy - not too thin either - just the right size is what I would like to call them. Well proportioned in width vis-à-vis the rest of her face. Cheekbones proud and pronounced like her father perhaps spanning a broad stiff arc from each ear which left to themselves would have gone on to meet at a sharp angle but which nature had gently tempered with a small, flat and firm chin. Cheeks ? Hardly any - just about enough for a tender pinch - not that they were ever pinched even as a child - just enough to span the width between her high cheek bones and her chin without seeming hollow. Oh ! I'd have loved to know if those cheeks would dimple if she smiled. But I would never get to know for her face stayed perpetually stiff as a mask. Regal - stoic and incapable of emotion.

Slender hands that held the axe - not that it was light - I would have probably been unable to lift it over my shoulder. Arms that were firm - not muscular in outline nevertheless strong. This was strength that built not from exercise, sport or war but from household chores. This was a proud tribe where even the chieftain's daughter pounded cassava for the cooking at his home. A sheath of linen covered what would probably have been the most magnificent of bosoms in the continent. It was a pity that unlike tribes further south, the women wore two items of clothing rather than one. Her flat tummy - embellished with the tattoos that symbolised her name and her guardian animal - moulded imperceptibly into a broad and well supported waist which held the key to the survival of the chieftain's bloodline for he had no sons. As I watched the long slender legs that gracefully slid along the sand in circles around the weeping prisoner came to a stop. The crowd went silent in expectation.

Not a breath escaped her mouth as in one swift motion she placed the sole of her right foot on the kneeling man's neck brought him straight to the ground which an audible crunch which probably signified the breaking of his neck. Simultaneously she brought the axe over her head and right into his neck. The prisoner's head bounced off the ground and came to rest about a dozen feet in front of me - his still open eyes gaping right at me. I shuddered. I do not know to this day how I brought myself to look up from his dead face and gaze upon her as she washed the blade of the axe, wiped it clean with a rag and then tied it firmly to the defense post where it had rested before.

The crowd dispersed as quickly as it had formed and the body taken away to be fed to the vultures in the jungle. I would later learn that the chieftain had shouted, "Aheti chop him up."

Something..

Those that think of clarity and form.
This is for them. For them that imagine
A person at a desk. With thoughts flowing
Steady as ink from his pen
Clean, crisp and of well guided hand
Who see droplets of joy gently drip
On the calm surface of his soul
And a gentle laughter creep from within
Like the gurgle of a snow-fed brook
Not far from its birth-place.
The truth unfortunately is far from this.

He lies writhing in inescapable agony
On his death bed. A sarcoma
That fed by the ills of his imperfect self
Has grown slowly day on day.
Aching nerve endings send distress calls
To his central nervous system not knowing that
Impotent Endorphins have pulled the jack out.
And in an instant a crude knife edge
Severs the layers of tissue in and about
The diseased organ leaving the victim
Screaming in pain and pus, grime
Diseased blood spill all over a few drops
On his bed-cloth too leaving but
A cosmetic trace of that moment.
A memento that serves to remind him
Of that which has come to pass
As he is wheeled out of the hospital
Cured. But just for now.

Whatever !

"How much time do you need Colonel ?"

I stared at my feet.

"Be back in two minutes"

I lay down on my back looking into the sky. Sounds of the night drifting in so
softly .The chirp of the crickets, the gentle wind as it caressed the leaves of
trees around. The larks were in the owls just waking up. Darkness all around
except for the million stars - the moon as if someone had used an old
toothbrush to spray paint the black canvas of the sky with silver and out of
sheer carelessness had spilt but one drop of paint and had now gone to look
for something to wipe it off. While he was away did the earth bloom as does
mold on anything stale. Life had tiptoed its way into his works and added its
touches in the hope that he might not find it too unappealing to burn the
canvas itself. If we didn't do it ourselves first...

And in the midst of all this lay I. Suddenly something came to mind. I laughed.
I'd read somewhere that you could never lick your elbow try as hard as you
wish. I'd tried. And then it went on to say something like 95% of those who
read the article would try it out. It did not seem funny then. Now it did.

"Colonel .."
"Yep I'm ready. Can you fetch me my arm ?"
"Pardon me sir ?"
"My arm. I think you did retrieve it from the battlefield did you not ?"
"I believe we did Sir ..."
"Then let me have it Major"

They brought it. The mangled thing. I held it up with my good arm. I could see
splintered bone where the humerus had snapped and blood clotted by gunpowder
and the smell of burnt skin. I got sick and turned my head to the side. Not
that I had a stomach anymore to bring up stuff. What a crazy thing to do ! I'd
be branded as a loony. I could see my men at a victory ball at a time not so
far away champagne glasses and music going "That poor fellow really lost his
head at the last moment ! Ha ha ha ! God bless him."

I did not want to be remembered as the fellow who made a fool of himself on his
death bed. But then did I really care anymore ?

"Major get your gun to my head now."
He did.

And then I turned my head up so that the muzzle was right above my forehead and
I could see his face. Was he crying ? I could not see too well.

Then in one sweeping motion I brought my dead arm to my face and gently touched
the elbow with the tip of my tongue. Did not seem to satisfying. Suddenly I
craved for a smoke.

Should I ask him ? No. I told myself. This had been my last wish and a
gentleman has but one last wish. Gentleman ? Do gentleman split into six on a
battlefield lick their elbows ? Maybe I was a loony. Maybe I did deserve to be
laughed at. I smiled and whispered.

"Shoot."