Saturday, April 28

When the Geek inherited the earth...

Hotel (Dy)nasty was booked. Chairs were arranged for the Ritual. Ideas were searched and calls were made. While the naive among us reached on time and caught that elusive nap (fig 1), the rest of the group arrived with that impeccable timing that comes with our brand.

J.E.Smiths and pink goggles later, the K9 was elevated to The Darth K9. Well then was the time ol' Christ's words came true - "...the geek shall inherit the earth..."

That was when I acquired the power to see those thought bubbles above people's heads. Here's what I saw:

Darth K9: ...sniff...a saber...i love u guys!
Cherry: a pen-stand....awesome!
K-II: this sucks...u, me but no-pree
The inheritor of boss: Pink is in!
Parry Hotter: (ok this i couldn't figure out despite the geek wifi) Error 293: Meta only.
The Lazy Labrador: ...yawn...gotta ghiss.
The Incredible Bulk: must...get...that...phone...[something in swahili follows]
Ackley Kid: Must laugh real hard at K-II when K-I hands it over
K-I: Chicks dig my shirt.

Thursday, April 26

Why's Roorkee water radioactive ?

- Part I -

Sometimes you get to know stuff you never wanted to. Like seeing people get cut-up into tiny cubes in some arbit, supposed-to-be-good movie. Or a porn clip exhibiting something you thought was biologically impossible. Anyways, I better warn you this too is gonna be something like that. At least it was for me.

Well it all started with one of those days that start all weird - when from the time you wake up you know something's off place. It was a really chilly day - people in monkey caps and mufflers all round. Except for those semi-naked south indians. They never feel the cold it seems. Or their wits froze and withered off. And so it was that most of my friends, and others, had left for home and I for some stupid reason had not. That stupid reason required me to have a rendezvous with some specific books. I thought it a good idea to go to the library and get hold of em. I hadn't anything else to do anyway. Yeah, crazy idea indeed.

So I leave three warm layers of wool and cloth, humming that song I could never remember the lyrics to and step out into the freezing winds of this goddamn town which feels like home now. Even when nobody wants it to. Crap. I was still wearing my slippers. That was the kind of day I was telling you about. Not that anyone cares if i wear slippers or rbk shoes or whatever. I go back and change anyway. Then things go on pretty normal, boring. But only till my mind wanders off towards this crumbled sort of a book. Actually the same as most books in our damn 150 year old library. A man could die inhaling what these things gave off.

Most of the book's pages are torn, so I can't see the author or anything. I wonder how they did. Anyhow, this looks more like a drawing book - the very wide ones in which you were forced to draw happy and gay stuff back in school. I figured it would be some archi or civil book, what with all the drawings and measurements. And then I do what I do with every book, diary or notebook. I turn to the last page. I don't know what it is I get out of that. Reading people's messages to god knows who. Like 'Atul Gigloo, 1976'. Well, maybe I did do them some justice by reading what would've been overlooked for years.

But this one said something else. It had a tiny drawing - sort of a jigsaw with all these numbers and outlines. Some archi crap. Or so I thought. Those numbers were very obviously page numbers of some book. I tried this one and turns out somebody tore these very pages off. Oh how I hate that! I mean some books can be shitty or half torn already, but then tearing out pages is surely a moronic thing to do. Through the swearing and the fury, I manage to find but one page that escaped the tormentor of this book. What I see needed only minor understanding of MD which I did have, to figure out that these were the plans of what we now admired as our main building. Yes, the one that fooled many among us into coming to this god damn place. I would've left it at that, had it not been for one of the signatures on the drawing. It went:

E.Fermi, G-24, 1942.


Well I just thought it was one of those things related to how old and great this university was. And not about how the past few years have only seen its downfall. They don't write such things anyway. They just bitch about it, that bunch of nitwits. I was at that moment trying to remember what the E stood for. Well I'm awful at remembering stuff. But I'm geeky as hell - I like to know such stuff.

Now as I'm about to close the book, this queer looking man with this stoned expression on his face is standing right behind me. He would've been the maniac murderer if it were a movie. If only. Instead, this guy quickly shoves this bunch of crumpled pages he has in his hand. Those torn pages. Now I hate this bastard even more. Just as I decide against giving him a piece of my mind, he snatches the book out of my hand and breaks into a sprint. That does it. I follow this guy, not running though - the smart ass that I am. I know he can't get the book out without those lazy seniles doing the stuff that they do before you can get a book you'd never care to open. And I knew today these bastards would be snoozing off on their century old stools coz it was a public fuckin' holiday. And of course, this guy realizes it soon enough to dash into one of the bays and hide the half-torn book somewhere.

I am no James Bond, but I am a smart guy after all. I act as if I weren't following this guy. I just go straight out of the library and wait near the shade where he can hardly see me. You know times like these when I'm supposed to hide and stay silent, I really have to pee. The wait just gets harder, but our stoned man takes his own sweet time to come out. Anyways, as he comes out I see those pockets which were stuffed with paper are now empty. This meant that he hid them somewhere inside. Elementary.


Now I've wasted enough time on this matter to not go back inside. I'm ready to do anything that would keep me off that stupid work I'm supposed to do. Yeah so I go back to the bay that weirdo jumped into, and search for that drawing book. It doesn't take me too long to spot it neatly tucked into the corner of the last shelf. Sure enough, all the pages are back in place. I quickly flip through the pages, all with familiar looking photos and drawings - there were drawings of the hill on which our institute is placed, all dug up from different sides. One of the drawings of the Main Building show a huge trench, right across those lawns we're never supposed to step onto. That I hated by the way. It's like having a pretty girl you could never touch or talk to. And this trench is not empty - there's this weird looking contraption, with millions of pipes and joints in it, sitting right inside this trench. Man, now I really got to pee. So I stuff all those already torn papers into my jacket and walk off. I would've looked neat as Sean Connery had I not have to pee.


So I walk with short but quick steps, like those crazy profs do at 6 in the morning. And so eventually after having relieved myself, I take out those sheets and straighten them out, placing each of them separately on the desk. It’s now that I realize those papers were all describing that same trench, with the weird machine inside it. One of those drawings had all its parts marked, like the biology books in school. So I start reading the list…Core, Pressurizer, Condenser, blah blah, Control Rods. Ok Control Rods I knew from high school. Those were used in nuclear reactors!