Ever felt like you had something very important in your mind you just wanted to get out? Something that seemed to be of great significance that you just needed to share with the world?
Well, not me.
All I have is random rants, silly everyday quirks and a whole lot of shit, which just about sums up my life.
Also, don't forget to enter your email id below and click Submit if you want me to drop my shit directly into your inbox!
Err.. No, not literally.


Click here if you want me to drop my shit directly into your inbox! Err.. Not literally.

Wednesday, 28 December 2011


Noises. Really loud noises.
Blinding flashes of light, followed by huge, vivid images on a wall.
The feeling that all these were dulled versions of what I would have actually experienced had my senses not deliberately been tampered with.
Earmuffs and a cap, I was told later, were what protected my fragile senses from an overload of external stimuli.
A roar resonated through the hall.
I heard a few screams. Funny, my yet underdeveloped mind thought, the noise was kind of soothing to my ears.
I drifted in and out of sleep, trying to figure out what was happening around me, but to no avail.
Everything but that wall was pitch black, darker than an endless abyss.
I gave up trying to fight back against sleep and was soon lost in the dream world, weaving through adventures, which now included bright lights and the occasional roar.

So I wrote this.
Then I asked my dad about it.
Apparently, when I was less than a year old, my parents took me along when they went to watch Jurassic Park.
Mr. Steven Spielberg, you helped shape my first memory ever.

Tuesday, 27 December 2011

Nostalgia Twenty Eleven

So its that time of the year again.
That wondrous time when everyone is happy, all hearts are filled with joy and I simply can't help but have a wide grin plastered across my face as I go around spreading merriment and cheer wherever I go!
Its discount time at the local liquor store!
Oh wait, no. Got my dates a little mixed up there.
Its the end of the year.


Brings to my mind as many wondrous memories as Oscar worthy movies by Mahesh Bhatt.

But then again, memories are memories, no matter how horrible, sad or filled with vomit they are.

So here I go, flipping through the pages of 2011, for your benefit!
(And my readership, obviously)

A dead squirrel, found burning in the bonfire, has the potential to screw up a New Year's countdown.

In Agra, the locals refer to the Yamuna simply as 'The Big Gutter'.
Funnily enough, its what my friends call me when I'm around booze.

What kind of friend stops liking you just because you said you wouldn't hesitate before killing him?
Weird people, I tell you.

When the heart's in love, the brain takes a sabbatical.
The penis, however, never takes an off.

One must avoid laughing when being threatened by an unknown adversary.
Even if said adversary sounds like Justin Bieber on crack.

Had to buy a pair of shoes. Checked out a thousand pair..
Of Boobs.
Then bought the shoes I'd seen a week before.

Watching an Aamir Khan movie.
Watching an Aamir Khan movie after 10 shots of whiskey.
Same difference.

Footballs are like boobs.
They're both round and I cant live without seeing either everyday.

The LSR annual fest.
A collection of all the hot girls who'd never date me.

My college thinks its cool to give me disturbing nightmares by making me be a part of the audience to a competition where guys take to the stage in their briefs and show off oiled, bronzed bodies.

Random hot girl I've just been introduced to: I don't like drinking.
Me: *Mentally strike off a name from 'To Do list'*

The best way to get a seat in the Metro, even if it works, probably does not involve throwing up in the middle of the Train.

Mom - Where were you for the last six hours?
Me - *Runs to the bathroom to throw up*
Mom - Oh.

How to tell your Football team is doomed.
Kicking the other team, not kicking the ball, is the game strategy.

Everything beats the feeling of watching a Delhi-Hyderabad IPL match live.
Yep, you read that right.

If you wear a hat that's five times bigger than your face to a cricket match, I will laugh at you, to your face.
Even if you're a ten year old girl.

Jerking off, code named 'de-stressing', is my football team's choice of warm up exercise.

Kingfisher Beer sucks.

Three years into a relationship means one is expected to finish the other person's beer, no matter how warm and disgusting it now tastes.

One fight is all it takes to drain the happiness out of my life.

Exams fuck me whether I study or I don't.
Actually, I wouldn't know, never tried the former.

Manchester United fans are royal cunts if they still think their team is any good.
PS. Viva La Barca!

Supposedly a northeastern delicacy.
In reality, its a shit load of bland noodles served in what tastes like water drained from a dishwasher.

Vodka Capacity Discovered. Half a liter.

If you think booze, fags and drugs give the best highs ever, you've never gazed at a million stars, lying down, in Bhimtal.

A video discoverd from a drunken night which involves six people, all guys, is best left unseen.

Baked a cake for Sanchi's birthday.
Surprisingly, the cake was perfect, not at all burnt.
Wish i could the say the same for the state of the hand blender after I used it.

One liter of Whiskey.
Whiskey capacity discovered.
Hospital Emergency Room discovered soon after.

The Dry Resolution: I will never drink again.

Friends are those people who, on your birthday, raise a beer each to you.
3 weeks after you've pledged to stay sober.

Not drinking for six weeks is a world record.
No matter what you say.

Beer + Photography = Epic Win.

Distance must be maintained from all drunk girls when one is in a relationship.
No matter how good your intentions, there is at least one camera out there that can make you look guilty as hell.

Watching a movie titled 'Friends with Benefits' with a girl your girlfriend is not very fond of, is like taking a giant pair of shears and chopping your own balls off.

'Breaks lead to breakups.'
- Me, 29th September

I'm a Blackberry Boy. Fml.

Happiness is an illusion.
Only those who believe in it can truly feel it.
I believed.
You didn't.

Just got proven right about #35.

Escapism is the worst way to deal with heartbreak.

Depression is best cured with a bottle of Vodka. Or two.

Wrote an article about how Kingfisher beer is the same as recycled puke from a Budweiser drinker.
Kingfisher then gave me two passes to the Pitbull concert.

Moral of the story: Spew shit, it works.

PS. Also, Vodka capacity upgraded to 1 litre.

Never try your hand at Math after 10 shots of vodka.
A bill for 2800, split between 4 people and I end up paying my 'share' of 1200 bucks.

Beer capacity discovered.
4.5 liters.

Dancers dance naked in their rooms cause they like it raw. And I like watching football because I love it when guys play with balls.
- Sanjali Sharma

Can lost love ever be found?

Pussies love meat.

Cat lovers just nodded in agreement. People with minds like mine sniggered like mad.

I just wrote all this. I have way too much time on my hands.
PS. This one was simply to help get me to #50 faster.

Its impossible to control your laughter while getting suspicious looks from the guard checking your car as he sees four teenagers inside and one microwave in the boot!

Consume enough Rum and you can fly!
Or at least glide for a second before you fall down in a heap.

Happy New Beer everyone!
May 2012 give us another fifty things to talk about!

And more booze :D

Sunday, 11 December 2011

I'm sorry Zuck, but it sure does Suck

Statutory Warning: NOT reading my blog can be injurious to your health and will lead to a rather slow, painful death at the hands of Aamir Khan.
Not only will he kill you, he'll keep you waiting, in suspense, for two years, while he plans exactly how he'll kill you. And then probably finish you off on Christmas eve.

So I got an Application request on Facebook last night. Here's what it looked like.

I think this app wants to marry me!

Okay, so maybe that last part was just in my head. But seriously, everytime I see one of these, i can't help thinking to myself- Not another one of those god awful application requests that, even though may claim to be nothing more than an App to send virtual Teddy Bears to your friends, may have just as much chances of spamming your entire friend list with semi-porn!

Long, long ago, in a galaxy far, far away...
Damn, I swear it sounded way cooler in my head.
Anyways, till a couple of years ago, Facebook used to be such a joy to scroll through, making it so much easier for me to stalk..err.. connect with all my friends on Facebook.

But now?
It looks like my study table, filled with crap that doesn't belong there, while everything that should be on it, lies at the very edges, threatening to fall right off at any moment.

I mean every single time I log onto Facebook now, why do I have to be visually assaulted with hundred tidbits of information that don't give two hoots about, while the tiny shred of a detail that I actually care about gets lost in the crowd, somewhat like that really hot Russian chick in that Akshay Kumar song?

What I don't understand is, what are they trying, really?
Facebook now looks like a rather pathetic, ugly and useless networking site where meaningless viral spam is as common as genuine status updates.
Orkut, I'd say, if I was asked to sum that up.

All I'd end with, I guess, is a few words from one genius who turned into a person who now regularly fills shits onto other people's web pages, to another- At least people come to my site, Zuckerburg!

Oh wait. Damn.

Ps. While you're at it, umm.. mind sharing this on Facebook?

Sunday, 4 December 2011


Maths. A wondrous subject with endless possibilities for the human mind to explore limitlessly, allowing one to soar on a true intellectual high, helping a bright little kid win awards at an age when he was still too small to completely grasp the concept about the birds and the bees.

Let me try that again.

Maths. Got me an award or two back in 5th grade. Never got me laid. Screwed me over repeatedly. Still not finished fucking with my life, even in my second year of college.

That sounds about right.

Thursday, 24 November 2011

Bud vs. Kingfisher

Roses are violet,
Violets are red,
All the booze seems to have finally
Gotten to my head.

I opened the newspaper this Monday, only to see a huge headline plastered across the front page: 'Kingfisher Q2 loss widens to Rs468.66 Crore'. Almost immediately, a smile crept onto my face.
Does this mean they're gonna stop brewing that god-awful beer of their's? The one which tastes like someone had a Budweiser, threw up, bottled the puke and then waited a year before selling it?
On further reading, however, I realized it was Kingfisher Airlines that was being discussed, so for now, thousands of innocent people will continue losing their Beer-ginity (personal creation) to King-Pisser (copied from Twitter).

PS. As you guys might have noticed, my posts are getting successively shorter with time. That's cause I've realized its always easier to just shit a little than to try to squeeze out a huge pile of crap from your rear at one go.
There you go, now best of luck trying not to picture that.

Wednesday, 9 November 2011

When asked Questions, Mum's the Word

Last night, while I was studying, my mom suddenly asked me- 'Salil, are you sexually active yet?'

This was followed by an awkward silence, like what you'd expect if Baba Ramdev showed up at your gay cousin's wedding. Fortunately, the possibility of something like that happening is less than that of Arnab Goswami breathing between sentences on his show.

As I sat there pondering over how to give the smartest, most honest possible answer to my mum, I realized- I was no longer a kid, I was nineteen, a mature adult well above the legal age, I could think for myself, take my own decisions, and stand by those decisions too.

So I took a deep breath, looked my mum straight in her eyes and said in an extremely serious voice , 'I really need to pee mom, I'll talk to you later'.

*Whew* Disaster averted.

What's with moms nowadays? They ask the toughest of questions. Gone are the good old days when the toughest question posed by moms would be 'Beta, Butter Chicken or Paneer tonight?'

The other day, I came back home from a friend's birthday party, only to come face to face with my mum waiting for me in the hall.

The following is a real conversation, as real as India's hopes of winning the FIFA World Cup-2014:

Mum: Have you been drinking Salil?

Now this, is a rather dangerous, double-edged question.
My parents are aware of my drinking habits, if you call being woken up at 3am by a couple of family friends and being told I'm lying in the ER of a hospital as being made aware, but they've also told me to avoid drinking as far as possible.

Answering in the affirmative would most definitely get me screwed. And not in the good way, when its Megan Fox doing the screwing, but more along the lines of Paris Hilton doing the screwing while Nicole Richie stands on a side, waiting for those moments when you feel a little better, to suddenly flash you, leaving you writhing in agony.

On the other hand, answering this question in the negative might earn me some respite, but it would surely be short-lived, lasting only as long as the smells in the room managed to overpower the Smirnoff scented Air-Freshener that was my mouth.

So I chose the best way, the honest way out of this situation-

Me: Yes mom, I've had a drink or two, but I drank very responsibly. I know my limits and I respect them. I also know I have my family name to uphold, and that I must not tarnish it due to my irresponsible activities.

Sometimes I actually say such stuff like that..
And have a threesome with Megan Fox and Scarlett Johansson in a hot tub right after.
But no, here's what really happened:

I puked all over the floor, the puke forming a huge puddle on the carpet, which, interestingly enough, looked like a Chihuahua's rear. Or Simi Garewal's face, whichever you find easier to picture.
On the bright side, at least I managed to evade the original question, which was less of a question and more of a test of my integrity.

So why are the questions our mums ask turning more awkward and tougher to answer by the day?
Is it possible that they are *gasp* ACTUALLY GROWING SMARTER?!

Excuse me while you ponder over that, my mum just asked me how often I watch porn and I really need to pee right now.

Tuesday, 8 November 2011

Engineering, BP and Hot Chicks

Disclaimer: I am obviously smarter than you, therefore any part of this article that does not make you laugh is probably just above you.

So I'm an Engineering student, and like any *Normal* Engineering student, my academic life is in ruins. No offense to all those students who do get good grades, I'm only mocking you cause I'm jealous of you, seeing how I've been unable to master the fine art of stuffing a textbook as big as a Primary School kid's water-bottle down my throat and puking it onto my answer sheets.
So grades, as far as I'm concerned, are more elusive than intellectual jokes in an Akshay Kumar movie.
Now I have found a solution for this, a solution millions of Indian students have also found and swear by. Did someone say tuitions? Close enough. Yes, it does involve throwing away your money just to sit in a corner in a complete daze while the world seems to rush past you.
But no, I was talking about Blender's Pride.
Now BP, as my friends and I call it, has been my most faithful friend for as long as I remember.
Yes, it probably has let me down at times, such as when I passed out, ended up in the Emergency Room of a hospital and almost had a medico-legal case slapped upon me, only to wake up eight hours later, back home, with no memory of the night before. But that was just ONE incident, if you exclude the other three times I've passed out after getting drunk.
So, back to the original topic, college.
I study in ITM University. Its in Gurgaon. Yes, I feel your sympathy already. The college used to be called The 'Institute of Technology and Management' but they changed the name once they received University accreditation (or after a really drunken night at a Sahara Mall club), thereby leaving the 'I' in the name as defunct as a guest on Newshour with Arnab Goswami.
The college isn't that bad really, if you ignore the swarm of 'Jatt Boyz' that descend upon it in their SUVs and their BMWs and its not really that tough studying with all these people, as I've learnt after 1.5 years of studying with them. You might even still catch traces of my original, non-Jaat accent while talking to me.
Computer Science Engineering, I can now say by experience, has absolutely NOTHING to do with Computers for the first two years of college. Subjects like Maths and Physics, which I thought were now a thing of the past, came back to haunt me and make my life more miserable than a critic at a Himesh Reshammiya movie.
Thankfully, the girls in this college aren't like those found in most typical Engineering colleges, there are actually quite a few hot ones (In your face, IIT!).
Just the other day, I saw these two really hot ones, and her face wasn't that bad either.
Unfortunately for every hot girl in my college, there's at least 20 shitugly ones too.
That doesn't really bother me though, as I'm happily in a relationship with my girlfriend for over 3 years now. (Not written under any sort of mental duress, emotional blackmail or while having a conversation about how, if I wrote anything she didn't like, I wouldn't be getting any action for the rest of my life).
But it does make me feel bad for a couple of my friends, like Gibhu Vauba (Name changed, cause I felt like it and cause its my fucking article). The poor guy's been looking for a girlfriend for the last nineteen years, with as much success as Baba Ramdev has had wiping out the 'disease' of homosexuality through Yoga.
That's the thing with Engineering colleges and girlfriends, you either already have one before you get in or you wait till you get out before you get one, kind of like a Delhi nightclub and a bottle of BP at MRP.

Okay so we're back to talk about BP. That's my sign to stop talking and sign off before I end up in the Emergency Room again. Then again, the puking practice should probably help me out when I'm giving my exams.