My noise

The general elections are around the corner. Mr. Advani, as you know, is already in full flow with his campaign. Part of his slogan is right - The world is looking for a new icon, a leader of men, someone who can take things into his hand and turn them on their head. Where does the world find such a hero?

As a self-proclaimed campaign advisor, campaign propagator and campaign initiator for blaDE, I present to you seven reasons why you should vote for blaDE to be PM.

Reason 1: Age factor

Lets start with a very trivial and basic reason just to get readers in the flow of things.

blaDE is [or looks like he is] old enough to a PM. But, he is also young enough to make a fuss about little things in life and throw tantrums all over the place. Beautifully balanced.

Reason 2: Public presence

Haven't you noticed? blaDE is everywhere. He is at his room, at the cafe, at the RC, at the galla and at the football field all at the same time. There is barely a person on campus who does not recognize his face [not to mention his voice].

Reason 3: Influence among youth

blaDE is at his dynamic best whenever there is entry of new youth into our campus [admission time of course]. Year after year, he has spread his influence among unwary youth who fall unsuspectingly into his trap.

As a result, he never has had any dearth of fresh followers [although they don't last too long].

Reason 4: Leadership qualities

blaDE is, no doubt, one of the leading leaders leading on campus. He led his humanities group in his very first year, and our professor was so impressed with his leadership qualities that he bestowed an A upon him.

Oh, if that wasn't enough, blaDE is the new dynamic leader of the NPG party.

Reason 5: Off-the-roof thinking

[You might be wondering what off-the-roof means ...]

All of us have heard blaDE's banter at some point of time. But those unfortunate souls who have actually bothered to listen to what he says, will realize the truth in my words. You do feel like pushing him off a roof.

Reason 6: Efforts

blaDE tries.

But the problem is, he would have already said too much. So, at the end of the day, when all is said and done, a lot more is said than what is actually done.

Reason 7: PING!

That's right.

If there is any trouble brewing anywhere, on campus of off, you can count on blaDE. He will bring the trouble [and the troublemaker] to his knees with a 36,000 [yes, a 36,000!] kilobyte ping packet.


The decision is yours, and the power is in your hands. So is the future of our campus. You can make a difference. If there is to be change, you can be the trigger. Do what you must. Vote for blaDE !

[PS: How you decipher PM is upto you. My personal favorite (that was suggested to me) is Pingy M***c***]

Kudos, and long live India.

Legends have in them about a mighty author, whose words were sharper than the arrows of Arjuna, whose words were powerful than the mighty Bheema and more accurate than the words of Dharmaraj Yudhistira. There are stories that say that Godess Saraswati herself writes from his hand. His might was spread from Chetlur to the whole of the world. He was once heard saying that “the KEYBOARD is mightier than the sword”. None had seen him. None had touched him. His might was approaching the height of the Himalayas which made other powerful Gods including some of the most powerful ones “the Mighty beCkS”, “the powerful 3m!g0”, “the God of Gold ViRuS”, “the God of Boasting Sniper”, “the God of cUrSeS rUdI” envy him. All the other Gods met and named him “Cancer” after the dreadful disease. After Cancer knew it, he started writing about all the Gods and made their followers stand against them. (“Remember now it was: the KEYBOARD and the INTERNET together are mightier than AK and AWP”). The mighty Gods can’t do anything but to hail the Might of Cancer and his KEYBOARD. Legends have in them that Cancer would take an avatar in the KALYUGA to save his followers from the fear of the KALYUGA avatars of the mighty Gods.

In KALYUGA:
The echo of “aey Chaneeeeee slot hai ki nahiiiiiiiiii” in an ultra high pitch that can tear the eardrum of normal people, could be heard at his dwelling place and the Almighty writer could be found pawning the normal people in DOTAAAAAAAAA like “Sniper pawning the BOTS(easy) in CS”. When there were no more people left to pawn in DOTAAAAAAAAAA he went on to pawn in AOE with his allies HITLER and HULK eating all the GOLD leaving Virus “THE GOD OF GOLD” with nothing but food and wood. Legends say that one day he will get into CS and pawn everyone everywhere. So all the great warriors of 88.55, 98.67, 91.89, 91.27 lets QUIT CS and watch “the Mighty Writer” pawn.

[Bhandvad Gita Chapter 1 : Verse 1 ]

-bHanD

Gather around kids; I'll tell you a story. Mind you, you will not get to hear this from anyone else, so pay close attention.

Once upon a time, in a town called Kota, there was a great CS player. He was feared by every man and every BOT. Whenever he would arrive in a LAN game, all hell would break loose. Players would scramble to be on his side. The people on the other side would simply give up. [So he never really played that much].

His name was whispered in the alleys of the town. He was, all at once, more powerful than the dons, had more influence than the ruling political party and was cute enough to impress the best girls in town. His name was Sniper. [Legends have it that he was a close associate of the legendary beCkS]

But all great people have their nemesis. Hidden in the shadows [Which was not very hard because of his size], was a contemporary villain, rUdi. He was as cunning as a fox, as agile as a fox, and as quick as a fox.

/*
Children : "So he was a fox??"
Me : "Err ... Well, you can say so"
*/

Anyways, sniper with all his bravery and CS skills got to one of the premier institutes in Gujjuland. Little did he know, it was rUdi's stronghold. Yahaan rUdi ka raaz chalta tha.

Nobody knows how sniper ran into trouble. It is only known that he did. Trouble in the form of rUdi. For mysterious reasons, rUdi refused to acknowledge sniper by his real name. He had his own title for him - Meri Jaan Ka Jaan.

The battleground was set, the lines had been drawn. The battle was long and hard fought. In the end, rUdi lost to the pr0ness of sniper. But as he watched his heart being torn away from him, he mouthed a curse - "Thou shalt no more be pr0, sniper pr0. Nee lanja ! Naade Peddhadi !"

Sniper in his haughty pride, ignored rUdi's curse. He refused to believe that his pr0ness could ever be lost. He bravely formed his army of paladins - The BTF (Born Tobe Fked).

In the early ages, BTF won every CS clan. They humbled clans as mighty as O Level. Everything was as per plan. There was nothing that could stop sniper pr0. Or so they thought.....

[Suspense]

/*
Children : "Wtf suspense re ! Tell us the story in the name of God ! It's now or never !!!"
*/

Ok Ok ... There was something terribly wrong with sniper. His aim started faltering. Somehow, he started missing headshots. Bullets flew between the legs of enemies, over their shoulders, through their armpits, and from between their guns and their bodies, but they never hit them. No matter how hard sniper tried, he always got knifed.

Bombs exploded in his face. He got killed by team mates and got flashed in Cat rushes. He got wallbanged, cratebanged and doorbanged. Somehow, his enemies could get headshots on him with pistols while he hit their toe-nails with an Awp.

In the dead silence of being a spectator for a CS game, he could hear it. He could hear rUdi laughing from his abode in the MFi. The curse had come true. The curse of the rUdi.

This is to inform readers that all content on this blog is purely fictional. Situations may carry resemblance to real life incidents, but they are the result of the author's wild imagination. Kindly treat all content light-heartedly.

Also, my hearty thanks to all those who read my seemingly worthless articles. Keep up the spirits, and I'll keep churning out the goods.

Kudos.

There is a lot happening in college these days. A lot of people have questioned my involvement in the same, but I completely deny all alegations. For you see, the 'happenings' that I talk of is the recent migration trend. Quite a few hostelites, fed up of their routine hostel life, decided to strike quarry elsewhere. I'll take liberty in reporting what has been going around for a couple of weeks now.

It all started with a rebel 3rd year group wishing to move out of hostel.[Let's name them 'The rebels' for the sake of this article]. They did their research and found that alcoholism was a crime that was most severely treated in the institute. So be it. They found an ally in a 4th year whom they knew and wished to move to the greener pastures on the other side.

On a certain night, they arranged for empty bottles of vodka, and filled them up with the water that was used to water the institute's gardens.[You see, none of them were actually alcoholics.] As they entered the college campus, they bribed the watchman into catching them with the bottles. The watchman was an honest guy and flatly refused. The rebels had hit an unforseen hurdle. Who would have expected honesty in our country?

Luckily, one of the college spies was on patrol that night. He spotted the rebels and the watchman in conversation. From what his feeble eyesight could make out, he could recognize the bottles of vodka. [This spy was a drunk guy himself]. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him, to the hostel supervisor. He gasped and panted and blurted out reports of the scene he had seen.

So, while the rebels were trying to negotiate with the watchman, the supervisor appeared out of nowhere. To the rebels, it was as if God himself had descended. They heaved a huge sigh of relief as he glided towards them. The watchman, of course, changed state quicker than ice in a blast furnace. He gave what he thought to be a smart salute and pointed first at the rebels and then at the bottles, with some finality.

The supervisor held up a hand to ensure silence. [Even the chirping crickets jammed their feet up their mouths.] He opened a bottle with caution and held it to his nose.

[Now here I must add, this guy had never seen or drunk or smelled vodka before. So, he had no idea what it looked or tasted or smelled like.]

Anyways, he held the damned bottle to his nose. The most outrageously disguting smell emerged from the bottle. The garden water had done the trick. The supervisor ran into the bushes to retch as the watchman looked on with curiosity. The rebels struggled to hide their glee. They were hugging each other when the supervisor got back. He assumed them to be hugs of grief and comfort. In his eyes, the wrong-doers had been caught. The warden will be delighted with his catch. He would probably award him a medal.

As for these bastards, they will get thrown out of hostel.

[To be continued ...]

Legends speak of a legendary Engineer who wrecked havoc at DAIICT. Men who claimed to have seen him can recollect no more than just a blinding, divine light that shone from his physical being. It is said that this engineer was born with a silver sen in his mouth. So they say, but no one really knows where he got his legendary powers. This is the story of that man. The man about whom ballads have been sung, epics have been written, but none have manged to truly pay due tribute. The man who has appeared in every folklore in the kingdom of DAIICT, the man who is placed above all gods, the man every student at DAIICT looks up to. Nobody but the gods knew his real name. They decided that earthly beings had no right to know the source this divine SEn power. The ordinary mortals only called him 'Becks' - or 'The choSEn one'.

In those days of war and turmoil, SEn was a course feared by all. Rich and poor, mighty and weak alike were humbled by this demon of a course. DAIICT needed a warrior to combat these courses of evil. As they say, a hero emerges only when the world needs him most, and Becks was no different. It is said he rose from the ashes of a thousand engineers and magically landed on earth in the centre of the lotus pond.

The king of the dark side was RS, feared by all. He was claimed to be the son of satan himself, who mastered the dark courses in aussieland. But even he shuddered at the mere prescence of becks. Becks attended every lecture and every lab. RS was infuriated. He kept evening lectures and secret SEn tutorials, but becks found his way there too. Finally, RS gave in to the sheer genius of becks and once said 'becks is the pride of my class'. And those who sat on the first bench swore there was a tear in his eye as he said it.

It was time for SRS submissions. Every other student had to form groups of 5 and submit a pdf file. But becks was no ordinary student. He went up to RS and bravely offered to give an SRS 'presentation'. He even took up the ultimate challenge. Becks refused to use ppt for his presentation. RS broke down as becks spoke his words. He knew this was no ordinary student. He accepted becks's offer.

Every other student slogged and slogged to program mini java applications, but becks worked at binary level. It is said that he could have designed his own chips too, but he got bored of it. In one lab session, he developed a new mobile os that far surpassed Google android. The people at google nearly swallowed their d***s when heard of becks's glory. Within a month, becks had challenged, equalled and overtook google in software development. There were rumors that Google's big guns were willing to give becks BJs if he agreed to sell his software to him. But becks refused.

The presentation of becks took place in the oat. Each student watched the presentation live on tv as there was no place in the oat. Dignitaries had been invited to becks's presentation from all over the world. In fact, there were so many that Anil ambani had to sit on the last bench (poor guy). Sam Pitroda wasnt even invited, because it was felt he was too noob to understand becks's presentation.

Becks began by drawing UML diagrams in thin air. He was offered a mike, but he refused. His divine voice echoed across the oat. No body dared to breathe in case they interrupted his speech. Hundreds died of suffocation. Becks, like a true warrior, went on in spite of everyone dying around him. He spoke for 8 days and 8 nights, without food, sleep or water. At the end of it, RS couldn't even see. His eyes were filled with tears and his heart overcome with emotion. He had no words left for Becks. All his faadu aussie vocabulary seemed worthless in front of becks. There was just one thing that could be said. RS crawled up to becks, touched his feet and said, 'Master'.

It was another of those nights. The moon shone overhead, a day before it reached its full glory. The lull scenery hid mysteries in its bosom. The breeze flowed silently by. The trees rustled in whispers, and the air was alive with the scent of blooming flowers. As one looked down upon the winding street, one could make out the silhouette of two hands entwined in each other, as they moved slowly out of the light of the street lamp.

For 3m!g0, there was no greater pleasure in the world. There was no presence as heavenly as hers. He could feel her soft, silken fingers as she felt his neck on that chilly, dark night. Any ordinary man would have wilted with lust. He could feel her breasts gently pressed against his chest. How he longed for them. He reached out to wrap an arm around her waist; the other hand left to savor her scented hair that fell over her graceful shoulders. He dared not to spoil the moment. It was all too perfect. As she leaned closer to him, he could make out her eyes gazing dreamily at him. Perhaps they lusted too.

It was as if the universe had known it all along. How he longed for her; how he loved her from the depths of his heart. How else would they have been destined to end up in the same SEn group? It was all meant to be, he thought to himself as his eyes rested upon her full, rosy lips.
His fingers were drawn to her body, that sensuous goddess of grace that she was. Every time his fingers touched her skin, it sliced through him like a hot knife through butter. Maybe she noticed it. He felt her arms wrap around him and drawing him closer to her. And he could swear she smiled. For at the moment, she shone brighter than a thousand suns.

In what seemed an eternity, his lips touched hers and locked in fervent embrace. Everything was still around them. He could smell nothing but her, feel nothing but her lips and hear nothing but the sound of her breath as she was closer to him than he had ever dreamt.

He had no control over himself any longer, it was all a trance. Fingers slipped down her neckline. Those breasts that always charmed him, always teased him to touch them, were finally within her reach. She shuddered as a finger traced them, but said nothing. Her eyes were closed. 3m!g0 kissed her forehead, her cheeks and her neck. He could feel her excited body. Was it lust, or or was it reluctance? He didn’t know, and never found out.