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Preview: Jang Goes Mad.......again!

Jang Goes Mad.......again!

Yawn. Why?

Last Build Date: Wed, 19 Mar 2014 04:32:00 +0000



Mon, 02 Jun 2008 20:53:00 +0000



Mon, 03 Sep 2007 20:08:00 +0000

I think I'm being stalked by some person near home. We could have a nice chat only if that person just showed himself/herself.

Being stalked is cool, no?


Wed, 22 Aug 2007 19:00:00 +0000

I love ignoring you all.


Fri, 17 Aug 2007 19:45:00 +0000

I think I need to start blogging again.

Gah till then.


Sat, 12 May 2007 16:46:00 +0000

Damn. I'm hungry.


Mon, 23 Oct 2006 07:08:00 +0000

I have quite a long movie backlog now. Here it is.

  • American Beauty
  • Being John Malkovich
  • 2/3rds of The Blair Witch Project
  • Fanaa
  • Kkrish
  • 1/4 th of an episode of Mind Your Language
  • 19 Episodes of Arrested Development, Season 1.
  • Date Movie (Voted one of the Worst movies ever. I wanted to see how worse worse can get.)
  • Every thing except the first 2 minutes of Golmaal
  • Munich
  • Open Season
  • Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak
  • Scrubs Season 1 - 102, 106, 107, 109, 111 to 124
  • Mission Impossible 3
  • The Credits of Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire
  • Superman Returns
  • Run Lola Run
  • The Constant Gardener
  • Forrest Gump
Gah! I need more time.


Thu, 12 Oct 2006 17:47:00 +0000

Ahhh. I had a three hour exam today. Finished it in one hour straight. And so, I had a lot of time to introspect on a few finer things that have changed over this past year. I have grown taller, by half a quarter of a centimeter. (Yaah! Yay!!) I have got a lot worse at bowling, the best of my worst being six gutters in a row. My hair is beginning to set. Ouch. I’m spending a lot less. I’m laughing a lot more, often at myself. I’m laughing a lot more, especially at the ridiculous things some of our teachers do. I just discovered that I can write the most tear – stirring answers possible. My additional English answer yesterday was a masterpiece. I have got a lot more defiant. Taking a cue from THW, I started of an answer today with “It would be foolish not to assume that….”. I can hardly wait for my corrected answer script. I’ve studied 2 and half hours max, for the four exams put together so far. I think I have chances of maxing atleast three. I’ve begun to leave answers unanswered for kicks. Yesterday, I left 20 marks. Cause I didn’t feel like writing anymore. I have begun to understand poetry, in bits and pieces. I no longer find exams scary. Not one bit. I’ve got a lot more religious. As well as industrious. I discovered that “Absent to attend my own marriage” is a good excuse to get more attendance. Many thanks to THW for this too. I can write amazingly defiant letters. I can use 18 different synonyms for the word masterful and create a 4 page answer, repeating the same line over and over again. THW’s paper rockets are highly overrated. They might be the best crashers though. Edit :: Just read THW's blog. Lots of similarities. [...]

Scary Movie Part II

Thu, 12 Oct 2006 17:40:00 +0000

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This is a sequel to the first movie. It starts off where the previous left off.
I hate the ending. It's horrible.
But I'm posting it so that I can be done with it. It's been too long in production.
I need to move on.


Tue, 10 Oct 2006 11:48:00 +0000

Long hiatus, no?

Apparently yeah.

Well, the problem is I have nothing to study. And no studying means I have stopped using my brain for sometime. Which means I can’t blog. College tells me my B.Com exams are in progress. But they don’t count as studying. I think even my brain has rusted.

Nevertheless, I’m getting back to full time studying beginning next week. Which means I shall see a lot more action on this blog.

Anyway, see y........
* dogs pulls the author away from the computer.

Oh. I just realized I didn’t have a dog.

Yeah, so , bye.


Mon, 24 Jul 2006 18:19:00 +0000

Dedicated to my friend Satya, a.k.a. Sataract, who's going to leave Bangalore soon. Miss you man.

I remember so, so many things about what I used to do as a kid that it becomes impossible for me to narrate them all. I often just burst out laughing when I think of what I used to do as a kid.

Well, this is one of those which I wouldn’t mind sharing with all. (The others which I would mind sharing include me going out on my first date with this sweet older girl, all of five years. I was four then. And there are so many others which I wouldn’t even mention).

Well, after I joined school, I was pretty much of an introvert. I would hardly ever speak to anyone at school, except my immediate partner who always ended up becoming my best friend for the year. Now this seclusion from the rest of the world made me a very creative bloke then. I did everything I could at home. I would throw down stuff from the fourth floor at people walking down the road. I was obsessed with cutting paper, in pieces so tiny the nanotech scientist folks at MIT would roll their eyes in astonishment.

I would celebrate my “birth time” every single day, and force my parents to call me up to wish me then too. I never insisted on gifts and so they were more than obliging to wish me a “Happy Birth Time” every single day. I made imaginary tents with chairs and bed sheets and go camping in the living room.

But the best part of it all was that I had an imaginary friend. I have often included hidden references to the friend all over my blog in the past. He was like no other. I will not reveal his name because it’s too personal. I totally believed he lived. (I think I still do, which is pretty much freaky).

I would get pissed with my classmates if they would sit next to me because they were taking up my friend’s place. I asked my mom to pack extra for him, and she played along pretty well. I soon realized my friend had a pretty bad appetite and ended up gobbling all the food.

I even used to play for my friend as Luigi in Super Mario Bros. And he was quite unlike me, the little friend of mine. He used to talk, and a lot. It’s was like a strange voice giving a running commentary about everything. And I thoroughly enjoyed it all.

I realized much later on that we were so much like Calvin and Hobbes.


Fri, 14 Jul 2006 12:14:00 +0000

I cleared my CA PE 1 exam.


Not bad.

Shot Down Dead

Tue, 11 Jul 2006 14:50:00 +0000

I hate getting myself shot with a camera, especially for those dumb passport size photographs. Realizing I couldn’t go on using my photograph shot when I was a cheeky 12 year old forever, I drove myself to the photographer’s studio this week to get myself a new set of photographs. “60 photographs in 60 rupees”, the banner in his studio screamed. With a portrait of a lady smiling sheepishly at the camera. Heck, I thought, cheap! Well, apparently no. He tried to convince me to go in for 4 “instant” photographs that would cost me 40 bucks. I said no. And I pointed to the banner.He then put forth the option of me having my portfolio shot for 2000 bucks because, apparently, “I was so cute”(which has loosely been translated from kannada) and was a potential super-model. Nice marketing, I thought, but I said no again. And I pointed to the banner again.Unrelenting, he gave me another option. This time, he said he would deliver 20 photographs by this evening and throw in a CD of my photographs all for 100 bucks. I sighed. And pointed to the banner.Peeved, and having failed at all attempts to convince me to go in for anything but that offer, his hitherto smooth, silky voice suddenly became gruffy. He told me that I wouldn’t get the photographs until a whole day later. I wouldn’t mind that, I told him.He then invited me to a dimly lit room, with a camera on his rather plump figure. He pointed to what apparently looked like a ruler. It was a comb, I later found out, with most of its tooth missing and shards of hair sticking obnoxiously. Some gel too was offered. I declined to both. The cheeky brat that the fellow was, he simply refused to shoot a photograph of mine before I combed my hair. I hate combing my hair, it just pisses me off. I disobeyed, and told him, just shoot. He gave a growl, and out of nowhere flicked on a switch. Suddenly, the room was flooded with light. I noticed strange umbrellas that covered the spotlights. He asked me to go sit on the lone seat at the centre. He asked me what background would I like. I asked him what choices I had.He replied Hollywood, Bollywood, waterfall and solid colours. Not a bit adventurous, I chose the solid colour. Then, he asked me to smile. I tried hard. Really hard. The tension on my face was evidently visible because the photographer immediately started laughing himself. I stared at him, and he replied, “Smile, not frown”. I sighed. And I gave up. It’s just impossible to smile at nothing. But he didn’t understand. I ordered, “Just shoot”. He said “Smile”. I said “Shoot, or I leave”.And click. I went blind. Or so I thought. Stupid flashes. He said, come tomorrow.The next day, I went to collect my photograph. And with the first look, I immediately burst out laughing loud. It was as if someone had punched me in my face. I told the photographer, show someone this the next time they are unable to smile. Happy with my new photographs (60 of them!), I sailed home singing.Edit:: I haven’t changed much since I was twelve. Not bad.[...]


Sun, 25 Jun 2006 16:16:00 +0000

Mozart. No. 25.



Sat, 24 Jun 2006 17:04:00 +0000

Too busy, doing nothing at all.


Thu, 15 Jun 2006 19:25:00 +0000

The web continues to amaze me. In this last one year, there have been so many cool things happening to the web that I didn't think was possible previously. Check out Windows Live site for instance. It's so much like a desktop application. Or the Google Spreadsheet thing.

My friend tells me he's downloaded MSN Messenger 8 beta. It's actually Windows Live Messenger. The Vista era seems to be drawing close. You can actually chat appearing offline to everyone else while you're are it. And share folders. Those are features that I'd want.

Google Earth, Youtube, Wikipedia ofcourse, the list can just go on. The web is just getting better. And better. And better.

Sun, 11 Jun 2006 06:51:00 +0000

But within moments, several scientists began to have second thoughts. Fermi became temporarily ill from the stress and worry. Oppenheimer at first remarked that his confidence in the human mind had been restored, but later, quoting from the epic Hindu poem, the Bhagavad-Gita, he solemnly observed, “Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.” James Tuck of the British Mission summed up the thoughts of many who watched the cloud roil the summer sky: “What have we done?”

Microsoft ® Encarta ® 2006. © 1993-2005 Microsoft Corporation. All rights reserved.

Paying For My Sins.

Thu, 08 Jun 2006 12:48:00 +0000

I’m not sure what it is about these librarians. I think they’ve all evolved into this strange new sub-species Homo Sapiens smile-and-your-dead or something. I am acquainted with a few librarians, and not one has ever smiled, or exchanged even a “Hello” glance. Probably it’s something about me. Our school librarian always smiled, but I later found out that she had a huge crush on this friend of mine with who I generally was most of the time. She just loved that bloke, DJ, I shall call him. She waved of fines of Rs. 50 and upwards for him, her sweetheart. ( I know I’ll be killed next time I meet him.) She searched for every book he ever wanted to refer to. My spies even tell me she’s been to his house (highly classified and unconfirmed). Nevertheless, I have never met with such luck. They are grumpy with me. Think of me as a pestering goon. Think I was born to pester. And they always give a nonchalant response to whatever I ask. Me: Good evening ma’am. How do you do? Lib: Now what do you want? Me: Er, do you have Lord of the Rings, perchance? Lib: No. Me: Er, do you have The Shannara Series then? Lib: No! Me: Oh, you should be having John Grisham, right? Lib: No! Me: Tintin? Lib: No!! Me: Eragon? Lib: No!!! Me: Shakespeare? Lib: Yes! Me: Charles Dic….yes? Yes? Where? Lib: Search for yourself. Me: Can you tell me how the books are indexed then? Lib: No. Phew. They pester me to no ends. I sat at the library for an hour. Searching for the book. Turns out they have quite a treasure there. I’ll be frequenting it more often now. And then, they have this habit of talking in hushed tones so feeble, it’s like you’re at someone’s funeral. Lib: Hush hush hush ppsss psss. Me: I’m sorry, ma’am , I really didn’t get you. Could you please repeat? Lib: Hush hush hush ppsss psss. Me: (I bend closer) (A Bit louder) What?? Lib: Don’t you dare shout in the library!(Quite loud this time) I said, “did you sign in the register when you came in”. Me: Oh….no. I’ll do that now. And then, they are all so scholarly. A pair of glasses sit quite comfortably on all their noses. Like they have been there for eons. I once was so bold as to ask a old librarian to suggest some good books to read. And that was the best lecture I’ve ever got. He started, and except for a few gulps of fresh air, spoke at length in a monotone about how each needs to discover his own taste, genre by experience and not by an other man’s efforts. I sighed in disbelief. And I sighed again. They get all their lives to read, and read they do. And a lot. And wise they get. They shun the other species soon enough. But they are all amazing. Eccentric odd balls. But amazing people. Just one advice: Stay away. [...]


Tue, 06 Jun 2006 19:46:00 +0000

Things I have before me while I’m studying:

  1. A cap or hat. Anything that keeps my head covered. Makes me feel that what's going in is gonna stay there. (Helps really).

  1. A Bottle of water.

  1. My trusty Hero pen, with black ink. Blue ink is pathetic methinks.

  1. A calculator in which I can punch in numbers accurately without checking.

  1. Lots, and I mean lots, of rough sheets to work on, or write on, or scribble on, or draw on.

  1. Some tiny toy to mess around with.

  1. A list of things I’d like to do after the exams for which I’m studying, which I never get around to do later on.

  1. A book ;)

  1. Something interesting on my pin board.

  1. A nice chair. Comfortable, but not very.

  1. Something to munch on.

I have never known any of these to help me, or improve anything. They are just mere placebos. Things that keep me studying.

Sun, 04 Jun 2006 14:43:00 +0000

V - Log
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It's my first video. People, please be generous.


Fri, 02 Jun 2006 12:18:00 +0000

No more limits. Yippee.


Wed, 31 May 2006 15:42:00 +0000

I tore up a library book in class 8 to do a school project.

I have regretted doing that ever since.

Extra Dots. Anyone?

Wed, 24 May 2006 16:29:00 +0000

I have been eternally obsessed with joining dots.

I see a dot. I see another dot. I join them. Simple?


As a kid, I forced my dad to my buy me truckloads of Join-The-Dots book. Then, I slowly started dropping a pen on paper from a certain height. I left a nice concoction of dots on the paper which I could join. Joining gave me pleasure. More pleasure than playing with cars or bikes or guns.

My mom thought I was weird. Now I know what it is. I live in my head. And I have a fantastic life there.

There’s nothing more enjoyable to a kid who ran around home in tiny shorts than watching an image come to life by joining a few dots.

Eventually, my obsession became a passion. The passion a fixation.

Heck, I even bought a dot matrix printer so that I could join dots.

Then, the problems started arising. Every other examination I had to write was an OCR multiple choice questions. Nerd that I was, I would quickly complete the entire paper. And then stare.

I would stare at what I had done. Obsessed with joining the dots, I would just join the answers I had just marked. And stare in disbelief at what I had done.

P.S. The IIT JEE paper, once dotted, looked like a mermaid. Sans clamshells.

P.P.S. No puns intended in the title.

(For a change, every part of this story is untrue.)


Sun, 14 May 2006 09:06:00 +0000

Every kid has his fears, and as a kid, I had mine.

Back in 2nd standard, I had this mortal fear of magic-men. There was this astrologer bugger near home, whom all called ‘Tantrik’, and he was the scariest person I’d ever met.

As a budding cricketer, I had to my credit quite a few broken windows. Now this Tantrik bugger, whom we shall call, well, ‘Tantrik bugger’ had a nasty habit of scaring little children.

He lived in a tiny one room house at the back end of an alley where we played. The ball, guided by mysterious cosmic forces and a bat, always ended up right in front of the house. Being the youngest, and littlest, of those who played, I was always asked to fetch. And fetch I did.

And then, one day, it happened. The Tantrik bugger came out just as I was fetching the ball. I saw him for the first time. An extremely short man, he had a small pony tail, was bald otherwise, and stared at me with those piercing eyes. That’s still the scariest set of eyes I’ve ever set my eyes on.

His house door stood ajar, and I peeped in. His house smelt weird, had all kinds of idols in it and a good share of red light. Now, to a kid hardly 8, that was S-C-A-R-Y. As I was about to get the ball, the Tantrik bugger shouted out aloud from behind. In fluent kannada, and with a good deal of stammering, he warned me to not play around his house. He also said that he would eat me alive if he did. I was scared. Real scared. (I later on, in class 4, when I was reading Great Expectations, found out exactly how Pip must have felt.)

Petrified, I took the ball, threw it at my brother (who was incidentally batting) and ran crying to my house. I refused to come out of the house for a good ten days. I even stopped cycling out of fear of that Tantrik bugger. When my dad finally noticed my sudden obsession for dolls rather than my cycle, he asked me what was wrong.

I narrated what had happened. And next thing I know, I was being dragged to that Tantrik’s house by my dad. I thought, heck, I’m being sacrificed. My dad knocked. I peeped in, hoping he wouldn’t be at home. But unfortunately he was.

He opened the door and actually invited my dad, and me, inside. When my dad narrated what was plaguing me, that bugger actually burst out laughing, claiming he was only joking and even offered me chocolates. Heck. Like I believed him! (I took the chocolates though). I knew he would gobble me up the next time he would see me alone.

Soon we left; my dad told me that I shouldn’t be scared.

I won’t, I told him.

I would, I knew.
The next day, we played cricket, the ball went in again. I was asked to fetch. I showed them my tongue, made faces, and said you fetch. They did. And every time thereafter. I never saw the Tantrik bugger again.

And thank god I didn’t.

(For a change, every part of this story is real.)

Busy Bee.

Sun, 16 Apr 2006 18:57:00 +0000


My mind is clouded with the Historical And Theoretical Perspectives of Management, drawing ANOVA tables, drafting bids and tenders, calculating annuities and calculating Consignment profits.

Yep. Exams.

Ciao. Till the 6 th of May.


Thu, 06 Apr 2006 07:39:00 +0000