When the classes are called off, or the shrill bell for the coffee break rings through the corridoors, the siren for chai time masti also called the 'break time' begins. That's where- our dear readers, we end up in the Cafe, Canteen, Dhaba and the Kolbas...(well, are there any kolbas in DU?). One goes there all pooped out, eager to gorge on good food, talk laugh and unwind. But have you ever wondered putting that yum samosa or that mouth watering (slurp!) butter-chicken piece in your mouth- that maybe somewhere, it is unhygienic? Well, actually the fact of the hour is that it is not just unhygienic but also unhealthy. With bird Flu presiding over Delhi’s multi cuisine atmosphere (which is mostly non veg!), we can no longer shrug it off, it is a serious problem.
The students, ofcourse, cannot do without eating at all, and so, seem to compromise with the quality of the food. The unhygenic conditions in which the way the food is cooked, the utensils and spoons rinsed with just plain water, use of stale vegetables,etc, seem to be one of the common grievences in most colleges. Rats, most shockingly , have been spotten, having a gala in the kitchens, rolling in the flour bags and feeling at "home". Amused students refer to their canteen as "the rat-teen" and others wince at the very thought of these unwanted guests. Lot of canteens do not have proper lighting system and are actually quite dirty. When it comes to food, some students suggest that healthy food should be provided. Some canteens like in Gargi do not have proper "thali" system, where one can have a full meal instead of eating junk . "Fruits , if possible , should be provided, so that we dont have to keep running off to nearby markets to buy them !" Proper seating arrangement is also important, and the canteen should, necessairly be, well ventilated. Good ambience and the inviting food tickles the taste buds of the one and sundry.
The primary reason why famished students still queue up in the canteen against their better judgements is because there aren't any better one's around. “Where else do we go when there are no canteens! We have an economical canteen that mints for being a monopoly! ” .With such exclamations coming from students all over Delhi, inspite of the eating area usually suffering either cleanliness or fresh food crisis, students end up having “no-other-option”. The consequeces result in food poisioning, vomitting, diarrohea, or even something as serious as typhoid. A no-win situation, eh?
It is sad that even though we are aware of the repercussions and that more than anyhting, it is our RIGHT to deserve good, healthy, clean food, we still turn a blind eye towards it.It’s time to rise and demand either cleanliness or infrastructure or demand a complete shut of a not properly functioning canteen. It’s hard but atleast it’s safe.Venkey college students complaint against the sad state of their canteen, which later got cleaned up on the Principles orders.
Regular inspection of the canteen staff should be done. It is, us, the students who need to be aware and active. We need to be able to speak up and speak out if we are denied something we deserve. Cliche's, one feels, is indespensible at times! "Prevention is better than cure", i say!
-dIKSHA gROVER & Aditi Sharma (written for DU Beat)
Friday, January 25, 2008
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
BLUE-ing along another LINE
That’s all…no more. Or let me say- let there ‘be’ no more…One million challans, one million rules on the road, one million traffic lights, one million interceptors, one million road securities, one million (and even more) Rupees spent- for what? For another ‘accident’? for another death? For another reason to be a sadist, a pessimist or rather- a ‘realist’? (As they call themselves)…Sorry- Not anymore…
They say it’s the era of speed. Of Rush and ‘no time’…But, do they mean to say it’s time to be so speedy and so much in a rush that people may lead to fatal deaths? Speed is also organizing and planning. Thinking and being systematic. Because by the end of the day it maybe a rush hour for you, not for everyone. The need of the hour is to know- that we rush through our lives for a living, but it’s the end of that living, when we’re rushing into death. But it’s then that we re-think, “What was the rush for?”
There have been enough quick crimes, there have been terrorist attacks, there have been several mind boggling issues for any ‘thinking’ Indian…The system of traffic served out on the demon’s plate isn’t digested…At least not this time…
Sanjeev Nanada, Aditya Pancholi and Navjyot Singh Sidhu are some high society names who are still advocating their ‘hit and run’ cases in the court. Whose fault is it? Who is to be blamed? Are the common questions most of the time won in the court of law through money, power and even status. So, what really happens to the insecure lives of the daily traveler is that it simply isn’t valued.
None of us are looking who-what-why anymore. We’re looking straight into our eyes and making certain commitments this time. This is for me. I will follow traffic rules. I will not be casual. I will make sure I am safe (providing safety to others as well).. I will not burden my life with series of danger. I will make my life a comfortable place to live in. And most importantly - I will value mine and others’ life…
Aren’t all of us burdened and pressurized already too much? Then why suffer guilt? why suffer a guilt of having ‘killed’ an innocent, why suffer a guilt of having a family’s member lost? why suffer a guilt of being quick yet casual? Why not live our lives with changes? Why not live our lives more systematic and in an organized way? And for heaven’s sake- give up our individual egos? I want to look at my life more easily…I want to value and love my life…I want to be responsible and disciplined if in return I am getting peace and satisfaction...I want to live with humanity…Don’t You?
They, made a big mistake. Actually, committed a crime, killing a young schoolboy last July. We’ve to promise and make sure now- that another series of Karans don’t face the similar circumstances. All those tears, all those prayers and all those emotions don’t have to be quieted. Because it’s time we get up and realize if red means danger. IT MEANS DANGER.
The writer,
dIKSHA gROVER
They say it’s the era of speed. Of Rush and ‘no time’…But, do they mean to say it’s time to be so speedy and so much in a rush that people may lead to fatal deaths? Speed is also organizing and planning. Thinking and being systematic. Because by the end of the day it maybe a rush hour for you, not for everyone. The need of the hour is to know- that we rush through our lives for a living, but it’s the end of that living, when we’re rushing into death. But it’s then that we re-think, “What was the rush for?”
There have been enough quick crimes, there have been terrorist attacks, there have been several mind boggling issues for any ‘thinking’ Indian…The system of traffic served out on the demon’s plate isn’t digested…At least not this time…
Sanjeev Nanada, Aditya Pancholi and Navjyot Singh Sidhu are some high society names who are still advocating their ‘hit and run’ cases in the court. Whose fault is it? Who is to be blamed? Are the common questions most of the time won in the court of law through money, power and even status. So, what really happens to the insecure lives of the daily traveler is that it simply isn’t valued.
None of us are looking who-what-why anymore. We’re looking straight into our eyes and making certain commitments this time. This is for me. I will follow traffic rules. I will not be casual. I will make sure I am safe (providing safety to others as well).. I will not burden my life with series of danger. I will make my life a comfortable place to live in. And most importantly - I will value mine and others’ life…
Aren’t all of us burdened and pressurized already too much? Then why suffer guilt? why suffer a guilt of having ‘killed’ an innocent, why suffer a guilt of having a family’s member lost? why suffer a guilt of being quick yet casual? Why not live our lives with changes? Why not live our lives more systematic and in an organized way? And for heaven’s sake- give up our individual egos? I want to look at my life more easily…I want to value and love my life…I want to be responsible and disciplined if in return I am getting peace and satisfaction...I want to live with humanity…Don’t You?
They, made a big mistake. Actually, committed a crime, killing a young schoolboy last July. We’ve to promise and make sure now- that another series of Karans don’t face the similar circumstances. All those tears, all those prayers and all those emotions don’t have to be quieted. Because it’s time we get up and realize if red means danger. IT MEANS DANGER.
The writer,
dIKSHA gROVER
The Antacid: HUMANITY
I, am humanity; standing miles away from humans. I wonder why they call me humanity when I am not designed to be inherited by humans. I should have been named ‘Idle-ity’ or ‘Comfort-ity’ if my worth is only for my comfort and silence.
But, suddenly, I seemed to be known all over again- and that to, by my real name. “Humanity this, Humanity that, Where is Humanity?” etc seemed to flash out on Televisions, Newspapers, radio channels, Shirts & T-shirts, mugs and even on toothbrushes! I wondered if ‘The Blue-line Massacre’ had actually explained a large number of humans what I truly meant. Maybe it did. Maybe it didn’t. Maybe, I just stood embraced and then most casually left. Maybe that’s what all humans do to humanity- they casually leave it.
Oh! Yes, another friend of mine “Casual”. He usually ends up leaving these humans as- ‘casualties’. But, they still like him. To be precise- they love him. He’s the real winner out there, not me. He is found in every test paper ‘given’, found in every doctor who ‘kills’ his patient, found in every garbage ‘simply’ thrown and as a matter of fact, found in every third person crossing the road. But he’s definitely not to be blamed. After all, it’s his nature to be casual.
On the other hand- I, am reflecting. I, am preserving. I, am morals and principles. I, am habits. I, am truth and integrity. And to comprise this all- I am life. Obviously, the brighter and better side of life. To me- life is values; life brings out responsibilities and a much awaited discipline. You are all following my footsteps if you are sensing and then ethically reciprocating. And mind it: - you are blessed each life to love it completely. Life teaches you a lot but learn it in snatches…Make the most of it now…Make the most of me now…Maybe someday I could save you…
…Just Maybe…
07-07-07
“IT wasn’t his fault, really. It was of that man’s. The man on the seat. He didn’t stop and couldn’t care less. My child insisted abut was forced. His eyes shut to darkness- till he could sleep forever and ever…” -The Karan Sharma’s mother
…Yes, Just Maybe…
dIKSHA gROVER
But, suddenly, I seemed to be known all over again- and that to, by my real name. “Humanity this, Humanity that, Where is Humanity?” etc seemed to flash out on Televisions, Newspapers, radio channels, Shirts & T-shirts, mugs and even on toothbrushes! I wondered if ‘The Blue-line Massacre’ had actually explained a large number of humans what I truly meant. Maybe it did. Maybe it didn’t. Maybe, I just stood embraced and then most casually left. Maybe that’s what all humans do to humanity- they casually leave it.
Oh! Yes, another friend of mine “Casual”. He usually ends up leaving these humans as- ‘casualties’. But, they still like him. To be precise- they love him. He’s the real winner out there, not me. He is found in every test paper ‘given’, found in every doctor who ‘kills’ his patient, found in every garbage ‘simply’ thrown and as a matter of fact, found in every third person crossing the road. But he’s definitely not to be blamed. After all, it’s his nature to be casual.
On the other hand- I, am reflecting. I, am preserving. I, am morals and principles. I, am habits. I, am truth and integrity. And to comprise this all- I am life. Obviously, the brighter and better side of life. To me- life is values; life brings out responsibilities and a much awaited discipline. You are all following my footsteps if you are sensing and then ethically reciprocating. And mind it: - you are blessed each life to love it completely. Life teaches you a lot but learn it in snatches…Make the most of it now…Make the most of me now…Maybe someday I could save you…
…Just Maybe…
07-07-07
“IT wasn’t his fault, really. It was of that man’s. The man on the seat. He didn’t stop and couldn’t care less. My child insisted abut was forced. His eyes shut to darkness- till he could sleep forever and ever…” -The Karan Sharma’s mother
…Yes, Just Maybe…
dIKSHA gROVER
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Death; The Final Escape
I am continents away happy and safe
But I hear the voices coming to me from war…
The gushing wind sways into my room all their cries
“Who is it?” I say, thinking it’s only a person to call for…
“How many souls do they wish to rape?
How many deaths do we have to die?
Curses and abuses so endlessly
Give it to us- if that’s how we can survive…
Shoot me dead along with other dead men
Spare our children and wives…
Let their price be-a merciless death to us
Tortured through any human device…
What’s the use of torturing in numbers?
Make limited tortures-‘intensified’…
Terrorize the world through our corpses
Don’t just slay each passerby…
Water our blood to our prospering land
Target and aim only us to die…
Spare poverty and slavery to our nation
We’re just all men-if at all identified…
Then the wives shout-
Why widow us now? Kill us instead
Why more tears if we’ve already cried?
Rape me, my sons and my daughters as well
Or we’d hang ourselves with our husbands’ neckties…
If flesh and meat suffices your need
We’ll give it to you tongue-tied…
Just tell us what you want at least
So its death we know, of what we’d died…
& then the sons-
Don’t burn our toys we’ll give them to you
Please don’t release away our childhood butterflies…
Let alone be our fathers and mothers
It’s us who have lied…
We are the ones to steal mangoes
The ones to climb up on those trees…
We’ll return even the eaten seeds
Just for last time- let us be free…
Finally the daughters-
We’ll cook and reproduce all our lives
Education- we ourselves will deny…
Soon enough we’ll throw away our emotions
Soon enough we’ll never cry…
Please don’t…please don’t…I feel dirty
Leave us alone for our lives…
Only once had we got this status ‘for sure’
But now-it’s just again- a new war cry…”
I twitched on my bed & shut my ears
Angrily locked the window tight…
Came back to my bed and tried to sleep
Saying-“Let those bastards just die!”
dIKSHA gROVER
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Try 'Hell'; It's better...
Usually the late Sunday mornings are full of hair-chumpis, night suites for long, movie-time, brunches and munches, faffing under the sun kind of days for me. Surprisingly, these Sundays are so important to me that I can actually give up late night Saturday parties for such a lazy Sunday.
This Sunday was quite unique yet quite thinking. Not because all of a sudden the force of gravity was acting on my body, not because Bru cappuccino isn’t offering PVR tickets anymore not even because Benazir Bhutto is dead… but because It’s my grandmother who thinks most absurdly about …Well, “Swarg”.
“Diksha...” she says, “It’s all our deeds that determine our destination. Swarg…” as she goes on, “is a room of utilities unlike hell where we all have to bathe in the river of blood!” Oh..k…Come again? Bathing in blood? ‘Room’ ok, in capitals this time- ROOM full utilities to suffice a ‘man’s’ needs? Plus Swarg is just a room full of UTILITIES? I mean, does she mean to say it’s Harry Potter after death?
Now that I know why dying is so difficult-the reason what really got me thinking was the statement-Deeds Determine Destination to attain Swarg. Well, Do they? Common Philosophers may brag on the topic about how deeds and destiny are directly linked. But, my three worded question to them is-IS IT SO?
I wish to exemplify through three known men- the good, the bad and the evil…who seem to change the meaning of the sentence for me- time and again. Confusing me and making me defy the holy words of truth of such an honest, gentle and knowledgeable grandmother-making her look “ignorant”…(Mean men! Hmphhh..)
First of all- the good man-the great man-basically the greater population of of Earth. All those men and women who do the right and know the right-believe in secularism but are more the religious sorts. These are the people whose deeds decide their destinations- the room full of utilities. “Luxury” is the word to lure them, “Death” is the word to cure them. But, unfortunately, some of them have to bathe in the river of blood having committed crimes like theft, extortions, murder, rape, kidnappings, Sati etc, while the Bharat Ratna award winners get their share of utilities in the ‘room’. ‘Justice’ in the lords’ land…
They’d never let me print this if I don’t include
Yes, Ladies and Gentlemen…he’s the master of all strokes without him any googly is never ‘out’…but the bowler to “Wazzat!” every team-The Al-Qaeda’s soul Osama Bin Laden is one such man who who confuses this statement for me along with other men if the ‘evil’ category. According to my grandmother he will ‘have to’ go to hell and bathe in the river of blood. And yes, to re-remind you he’s very much suffered hell on the Earth itself-because bathing in blood is not just his passion but also adds pride to his ‘blood’…
dIKSHA gROVER
Thursday, January 10, 2008
To my Dearest Color Purple...
I want to be painted all over and that to, in color purple... Not because I was very lonely today, not because I was wearing ‘indecent’ clothes, not because I decided not to scream, not because I felt I was being tortured yet so easily molested and raped but because - I was ashamed. And to be even more blatant-I still am ashamed.
I feel, my entire 24 Year old life till now has been this big, huge and long roller-coaster ride where there has actually been just a little bit of fun but more an anxious, scared and a nervous side that has been making me -a "safe" rider. So, in order to be safe I have not really enjoyed the journey so far- I have just been highly cautious. But today, I wanted to have something I never had been able to enjoy before...I wanted all of it just in one go. Not knowing, I’m going to be left alone and even more morose & most of all -'ashamed'...
My name is…Well, after such an incident I don’t want to disclose my identity. No, I’m ashamed…I can’t…I just can’t. I’ll probably tell you my sex- but…but…wait a minute this Indian society… it’ll rate me as -the even more shameful. I’ll just probably call myself a creature slowly and quietly eaten by a beast.
How it started? Well, I can call it my mistake- surely I can. It was me who was in search of love. I was tattered between the sheets of family and work and so I craved for someone - living. A living being that could hear me, who could speak to me, who could understand me, who could hold me, who could caress me, who could…How does it matter now? I’m done and over with. And anyway, it’s only men who can demand love not women-then why did I go against the norm? It was my greed for love that has landed me here- in the land of shame, with my dearest color purple.
For me a thing such as ‘love’ never existed. It was the most impractical and most time, money and energy consuming type of a thing. But, all of a sudden I burnt from the inside & I just wanted to have it- I just wanted to do it. I too wanted a caring and handsome ‘boyfriend’. So I went ahead with it. And, why would anybody be my boyfriend if I don’t flow with the trend? “I have to”, is what I remember telling myself and moved on… So, I nervously pursued the matter first, then I went ahead to create self-interest in it and then finally I showed off my love and made it ‘look’ intense creating ‘realistic’ intensity.
The people around me were obviously quite pleased. It was 'another entertainment' for them you see. But what was most unconvincing about the matter was that I-myself was highly afraid and unconfident. I knew that I would not enjoy it yet I was forcing myself (just like my friends had). And by the time I could realize about how 'stupid' and 'silly' I looked when standing in front of my reflection-did I realize- I was ashamed of who I had become and who I had denied to become for a few hours. In those ‘few hours’ was he completely convinced about our “relationship” and in those few hours each of my “No…No…” became the reason why I cannot forgive myself ever… It’s depressing to feel humiliated but it’s worse to feel ashamed… because in ‘Those few hours’ I know he raped my soul and I did nothing about it…because… ‘Those few hours’ were the hours where I ALLOWED him to rape me…
I am ashamed of having fallen into this pit of what they call ‘trend’, I am ashamed of being a woman who stands away from the morals and principles of her gender, I am ashamed of being a ‘creature’ who has the greed to want love, I am ashamed of being slut (as they call me) who entice and distract men to satisfy my selfish needs, I am ashamed of trying to retaliate as the fundamental rights do list out ‘freedom of expression’ to me but it’s the society whose wishes I’ve to fulfill…& finally, I am ashamed of this body that was used (in the form of love) while these helpless tears just keep rolling down from these shameful eyes…
That's when at a nearby shop I saw this beautiful purple color that seem to merge into my existence...I felt the color of shame...I could sense it, I could hear it, I could relate to it, I could believe in it, I could withhold it...I felt...I felt...I had become the color purple- so deeply yet so blindly...
I vividly remember what happened next…I think I acted actually-reacted quite fiercely and with a lot of hate. “Meanness” seemed to ooze out of me. I think I became violent and ferocious, agitated and incoherent, disjoint and…empathetic towards myself for such extremes of a woman of fame. Next thing I Remember is that…is that…actually I don’t…no flash backs…no more realities- all I remember is that color of shame blending into me…Making me entangle the joys of escapism and self-sacrifice...But, even after alot many deaths- I do still believe in you… dear, color purple…
dIKSHA gROVER
I feel, my entire 24 Year old life till now has been this big, huge and long roller-coaster ride where there has actually been just a little bit of fun but more an anxious, scared and a nervous side that has been making me -a "safe" rider. So, in order to be safe I have not really enjoyed the journey so far- I have just been highly cautious. But today, I wanted to have something I never had been able to enjoy before...I wanted all of it just in one go. Not knowing, I’m going to be left alone and even more morose & most of all -'ashamed'...
My name is…Well, after such an incident I don’t want to disclose my identity. No, I’m ashamed…I can’t…I just can’t. I’ll probably tell you my sex- but…but…wait a minute this Indian society… it’ll rate me as -the even more shameful. I’ll just probably call myself a creature slowly and quietly eaten by a beast.
How it started? Well, I can call it my mistake- surely I can. It was me who was in search of love. I was tattered between the sheets of family and work and so I craved for someone - living. A living being that could hear me, who could speak to me, who could understand me, who could hold me, who could caress me, who could…How does it matter now? I’m done and over with. And anyway, it’s only men who can demand love not women-then why did I go against the norm? It was my greed for love that has landed me here- in the land of shame, with my dearest color purple.
For me a thing such as ‘love’ never existed. It was the most impractical and most time, money and energy consuming type of a thing. But, all of a sudden I burnt from the inside & I just wanted to have it- I just wanted to do it. I too wanted a caring and handsome ‘boyfriend’. So I went ahead with it. And, why would anybody be my boyfriend if I don’t flow with the trend? “I have to”, is what I remember telling myself and moved on… So, I nervously pursued the matter first, then I went ahead to create self-interest in it and then finally I showed off my love and made it ‘look’ intense creating ‘realistic’ intensity.
The people around me were obviously quite pleased. It was 'another entertainment' for them you see. But what was most unconvincing about the matter was that I-myself was highly afraid and unconfident. I knew that I would not enjoy it yet I was forcing myself (just like my friends had). And by the time I could realize about how 'stupid' and 'silly' I looked when standing in front of my reflection-did I realize- I was ashamed of who I had become and who I had denied to become for a few hours. In those ‘few hours’ was he completely convinced about our “relationship” and in those few hours each of my “No…No…” became the reason why I cannot forgive myself ever… It’s depressing to feel humiliated but it’s worse to feel ashamed… because in ‘Those few hours’ I know he raped my soul and I did nothing about it…because… ‘Those few hours’ were the hours where I ALLOWED him to rape me…
I am ashamed of having fallen into this pit of what they call ‘trend’, I am ashamed of being a woman who stands away from the morals and principles of her gender, I am ashamed of being a ‘creature’ who has the greed to want love, I am ashamed of being slut (as they call me) who entice and distract men to satisfy my selfish needs, I am ashamed of trying to retaliate as the fundamental rights do list out ‘freedom of expression’ to me but it’s the society whose wishes I’ve to fulfill…& finally, I am ashamed of this body that was used (in the form of love) while these helpless tears just keep rolling down from these shameful eyes…
That's when at a nearby shop I saw this beautiful purple color that seem to merge into my existence...I felt the color of shame...I could sense it, I could hear it, I could relate to it, I could believe in it, I could withhold it...I felt...I felt...I had become the color purple- so deeply yet so blindly...
I vividly remember what happened next…I think I acted actually-reacted quite fiercely and with a lot of hate. “Meanness” seemed to ooze out of me. I think I became violent and ferocious, agitated and incoherent, disjoint and…empathetic towards myself for such extremes of a woman of fame. Next thing I Remember is that…is that…actually I don’t…no flash backs…no more realities- all I remember is that color of shame blending into me…Making me entangle the joys of escapism and self-sacrifice...But, even after alot many deaths- I do still believe in you… dear, color purple…
dIKSHA gROVER
Fight the 'Ight'
Countless nights
Endless fights...
After each
Another tonight...
Ideas changed
Broadens daylight...
Yet another thought
So infinite...
And then a new candle
To ignite...
When ideas clashed
Nothing to highlight...
Ego grows more
Nothing to excite...
And shadows remained
Still upright...
But behind twilight
Each day and night...
At 27 degree Fahrenheit
they reunite...
Black and white
Both in their spotlights...
While I may be black
And you may be white...
When u are the moonlight
I’m just a midnight...
dIKSHA gROVER
Endless fights...
After each
Another tonight...
Ideas changed
Broadens daylight...
Yet another thought
So infinite...
And then a new candle
To ignite...
When ideas clashed
Nothing to highlight...
Ego grows more
Nothing to excite...
And shadows remained
Still upright...
But behind twilight
Each day and night...
At 27 degree Fahrenheit
they reunite...
Black and white
Both in their spotlights...
While I may be black
And you may be white...
When u are the moonlight
I’m just a midnight...
dIKSHA gROVER
Beautifying the Beautiful
Her simple face says everything about her
Her eyes give her a charm,
Her patience is praiseworthy
She’s mild, she’s soft, she is calm…
Her delicate hands and her gentle smile
Makes her look so rare,
Her mind is like an open treasury
But secrets-she doesn’t seem to share…
Her fragrance fills one’s aura
With a pleasant and numbing smell,
Calling her “beautiful” through her eyes,
Words seem non-existent to tell …
As she’s a crippled lady with skin diseases
Taking sittings in the hospitals since years,
In the thoughts of looking ‘beautiful’
Crying away all her tears…
-dIKSHA gROVER
Her eyes give her a charm,
Her patience is praiseworthy
She’s mild, she’s soft, she is calm…
Her delicate hands and her gentle smile
Makes her look so rare,
Her mind is like an open treasury
But secrets-she doesn’t seem to share…
Her fragrance fills one’s aura
With a pleasant and numbing smell,
Calling her “beautiful” through her eyes,
Words seem non-existent to tell …
As she’s a crippled lady with skin diseases
Taking sittings in the hospitals since years,
In the thoughts of looking ‘beautiful’
Crying away all her tears…
-dIKSHA gROVER
Not the number...the 'telephone' number
Amazingly, numbers have a very huge role to play in our lives…we are surrounded by one- two-three-four and so on and so forth digits since we are born till we die…in fact our sandal size to our area square foot homes are also a bliss of numbers…Fortunately or even unfortunately even us- The students die for those two digits and some even die for three digits (they’re just basically further more greedy!) during their academics.
Well, one of my friend seemed to have a very hilarious incident with the way numbers played with him and his…uhmm…uhmm….love life…My friend XY (who prefers being anonymous after that experience being highly embarrassed after the so called “leave me all alone in this world” and “why women” experience…) well, ha…this is me giving out his ‘unfortunate’…though highly amusing incident…
Me and XY were together in the famous"let’s buy it quick-eat it quick-and digest it quick joint"…yes, you’re right…the McDonalds. He and me both are big time burger freaks and hang out there quite regularly. He was as ever eying a beautiful dame and spilling away the mayonnaise on the table. “ And you’ve done it again”, I said, “why the hell are you in so love with the number two?” “I don’t know” was his sharp response, “you see that girl there? She seems to be alone, eating all by herself, I think that’s why I love the number two…I change one’s life to two!” he laughed and went to her table.And the best thing was while I was expecting him to have had a ‘two’ across both the cheeks…this little wise-guy was actually getting friendly to the dame! Aaargh! Anyways, I let them be and became the “one” to be eating my ONE burger…
In some time I got introduced to Sherry and was standing next to XY and making faces at him (indicating that we needed to leave as soon as possible) when suddenly she happened to ask him in her most ‘awww…i am cutie-putie’ accent “ Wouldn’t you give me your number?”, “Sure!” my most excited-not thinking friend said, “nine…” “and then?” is what the Poo-Woo Sherry asked, “that’s it…how long do you think it is?” “it’s supposed to be Ten numbers isn’t it?” “ haha…” is what the daring XY said…I found this extremely funny and laughed out aloud as long as I could. Sherry of course found it very irritating and said, “I hate people who joke about me!” slapped him on his cheek and walked away…he told me “ it doesn’t really matter atleast she knows i am big man” and so she turned around and slapped him again on the other cheek and said, “ I hate those guys even more who think they are superior to me”
Well ha, I wonder if she ever understood XY’s ‘jokes’ but yes, one thing is for sure, she surely hit him hard on this cheek coz the second one pained for around an hour or two. Hahaha…since then, he neither believes in flirting with women nor does he believe in the fact that they have brains…Well one thing he seems to be pretty sure about is the number two and ofcourse my solid predictions..heheh…by the way, what is your favorite number? Anyone?
dIKSHA gROVER
Well, one of my friend seemed to have a very hilarious incident with the way numbers played with him and his…uhmm…uhmm….love life…My friend XY (who prefers being anonymous after that experience being highly embarrassed after the so called “leave me all alone in this world” and “why women” experience…) well, ha…this is me giving out his ‘unfortunate’…though highly amusing incident…
Me and XY were together in the famous"let’s buy it quick-eat it quick-and digest it quick joint"…yes, you’re right…the McDonalds. He and me both are big time burger freaks and hang out there quite regularly. He was as ever eying a beautiful dame and spilling away the mayonnaise on the table. “ And you’ve done it again”, I said, “why the hell are you in so love with the number two?” “I don’t know” was his sharp response, “you see that girl there? She seems to be alone, eating all by herself, I think that’s why I love the number two…I change one’s life to two!” he laughed and went to her table.And the best thing was while I was expecting him to have had a ‘two’ across both the cheeks…this little wise-guy was actually getting friendly to the dame! Aaargh! Anyways, I let them be and became the “one” to be eating my ONE burger…
In some time I got introduced to Sherry and was standing next to XY and making faces at him (indicating that we needed to leave as soon as possible) when suddenly she happened to ask him in her most ‘awww…i am cutie-putie’ accent “ Wouldn’t you give me your number?”, “Sure!” my most excited-not thinking friend said, “nine…” “and then?” is what the Poo-Woo Sherry asked, “that’s it…how long do you think it is?” “it’s supposed to be Ten numbers isn’t it?” “ haha…” is what the daring XY said…I found this extremely funny and laughed out aloud as long as I could. Sherry of course found it very irritating and said, “I hate people who joke about me!” slapped him on his cheek and walked away…he told me “ it doesn’t really matter atleast she knows i am big man” and so she turned around and slapped him again on the other cheek and said, “ I hate those guys even more who think they are superior to me”
Well ha, I wonder if she ever understood XY’s ‘jokes’ but yes, one thing is for sure, she surely hit him hard on this cheek coz the second one pained for around an hour or two. Hahaha…since then, he neither believes in flirting with women nor does he believe in the fact that they have brains…Well one thing he seems to be pretty sure about is the number two and ofcourse my solid predictions..heheh…by the way, what is your favorite number? Anyone?
dIKSHA gROVER
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About Me
- DIE-betes
- What's wrong with us? What's happening around us? What is this world? What's the use of our lives? Why words? What...Who...Where...When...Why...How...Hell no! these are too mind boggling questions! I feel the pain in answering them...don’t you? Maybe that’s why both of us are diagnosed as spastics-skeptics-ism... a disease of slow death...sweet death actually...of DIE-betes... though years later... IS YOUR COLOR GREEN? talks about...how green will soon be extinct in this world...as an evironmentalist, I care, do you? rather...don't you? or do you not want to? What does you dying existence tells you to do?