Monday, April 22, 2013

Survey on Green-Consumption Behavior

Survey on Green-Consumption Behavior: My co-author and I are doing research on Green-Consumption Behavior. For that we need responses on our survey, which was designed to tap into some of the variables we are trying to test. The survey should take you around 15 minutes. Thanks :)

Monday, November 07, 2005

the dreamland chronicle

The sunshine calender
The one that wades
Have you seen it closely
It mumbles… “bring on the dates”

The specky alarm clock
The nerdish look is to delude
Nights , in the closet
It does a tap dance…though crude

The old porch bench
The one that loudly creaks
It flies to lands over the clouds
On rainy days …when everyone’s asleep

The obsolete radio
That lies in the garage
Ever seen it play with the spiders
Musical chairs and hop scotch

The cosco basketball
that has no grip
the threads of which
can be rethreaded to form a whip

and you may think
its old and cant rub
but watch it at noon
take the most fabulous lay-ups

They lie now
Lost in a slumber …deep
Begging me to stay awake
While they dream their own dreams

criteria for the next 2 months

object oriented poem/prose
It can vary from objects around the house to something particular(choclates/bikes/guitars/books...etc..(nothing metaphysical or hypothetical though, please))
moods and styles can be orthodox or expermental .No other restrictions as long as the topic is stuck to.

Saturday, October 29, 2005

Lab 4 - Abhishek

(Mirroring Sudarshan's koraakaagaz lab. Don't think it turned out that great, but wtf!)

Damn it! - Where's that goddamned galli no. 17 ? Isn't that what Maya had said ? 'Satara pe khatara' . Cheeky, he thought and definitely uncalled for. Maya could never quite comprehend what was chic and what was not. Anyway, he had a godforsaken address to find. DefLep throughout the night! More than he could stand up to.

He slid past the brilliantly lighted Diwali streets. The rows and rows of twinkling bulbs and throngs of merry-makers, shoppers. A suffocating lithos and a magnificent atmos. Strange. A silver mist,though seemed unnecessary to distinctly separate the two. Wtf. Ah! here's galli 16, Nana Peth. So 17 should be around the corner. 16 wasn't too good looking. Infact, it almost looked to have been beaten to it's current 'black-blue' appearance. It merely seemed to squeak out whatever it was that it was suppossed to tell. The galli no, the area, survey no - crap! here's 18, where the fuck is 17. Those irritating kids must've been blocking the way. He back-tracked.

No kids. They seem to have vanished leaving behind a thick cloud of miasma. Chuck it, how the hell did i miss that? Normally peths didn't have large, reflective, green coloured signs with large friendly letters. Yes, 'large friendly letters' - where've I heard that ? And it was screeching out the number. Seventeen. Hell, I even hear an electric guitar. How did I overlook that? Must've been the haze, of voices.

He entered, what was for time of the year a quite uncrowded lane. He saw a gory ensemble. He looked at the mirrored red blouse, unashamedly in view against a backdrop of almost visible black locks. Head down, straight ahead. Did it have to be here ? But then 350 bucks a month! That was cheap. Struggling artists can't even beg with dignity on large boulevards or open avenues. Begging required a different skill set in different locales. Which way was it? Hell, the prositute was trailing him. He quickened his pace. A step a second, then two, then three . . . Where the fuck was Suditsu Bar. Look around for weird red chinese signs. There couldn't be many. 5 minutes of heart-wrenching cat-mouse game. He looked behind. The prostitute seemed to have slipped away. Strange he thought, didn't see any alleys down the way. Ah! there it was, Suditsu Bar, in red 'chinese' font - more probably another seedy joint in a seedy locality. 350 bucks a month. He knocked at the door. "Password". Yup, this is the right place. "Hysteria" - "Come one in". The only piece of useful information Maya had given. Dave was known to be a stickler for such issues. The hand that lead him through seemed to be female. Umm... mirrored reds seems to be the latest trend.

Dave seemed really nice on first sight. Strangely, but not unusually he had his shirt off, his chest a showpiece of thick black overgrowth. He gave getting in one's hair an entirely new meaning. I was asked to sit right beside him. He asked me pick up a piece of paper fallen at his feet. I bent down. His chest-hair suddenly seemed to be moving, a crawling mass of thick black worms. The red woman, appeared in full view - to reveal a million figures on her blouse- long slender body, blond-black hair and a snake's tiny multi-coloured blue eyes. The speaker's blare. Shit! 'Die Hard the Hunter'. Did he have to be Clark's greatest fan?

Damn, that white mist again . . .

Thursday, September 01, 2005

war of da worlds

here's my take on the movie "War of the Worlds". I'm dividing it into a number of parts. I'll write the subsequent ones only if everyone who reads this puts in a comment saying what a great writer i really am. That said, i've borrowed a couple of ideas from a standup comic called Eddie Izzard and some from the movie itself. I mention it just so u dont call me a plagiarist.

No one would have believed in the last years of the twentieth century that this world was being watched keenly and closely by intelligences greater than man's and yet as mortal as his own; that as men busied themselves about their various concerns they were scrutinised and studied, perhaps almost as narrowly as a man with a microscope might scrutinise the transient creatures that swarm and multiply in a drop of water. With infinite complacency men went to and fro over this globe about their little affairs, serene in their assurance of their empire over matter. It is possible that the infusoria under the microscope do the same. No one gave a thought to the older worlds of space as sources of human danger, or thought of them only to dismiss the idea of life upon them as impossible or improbable. It is curious to recall some of the mental habits of those departed days. At most terrestrial men fancied there might be other men upon Mars, perhaps inferior to themselves and ready to welcome a missionary enterprise. Yet across the gulf of space, minds that are to our minds as ours are to those of the beasts that perish, intellects vast and cool and unsympathetic, regarded this earth with envious eyes, and slowly and surely drew their plans against us. And early in the twenty first century came the great disillusionment.

The prelude to the attack...

The plans for the attack had been under preparation for a long time now. In fact the seeds of the attack had already been planted far before the apes, the homo erectus or the homo sapiens had made their appearance on the face of the planet. The people of the planet Mars resemble greatly in appearance a cross between the ugliest of pygmies from the jungles of Congo and Mithun Chakraborty. One martian is identifiable from the other only by closely identifying the colour and size of a protruding muscle from below the navel, in case of women and the colour of the bollocks in case of men. A choice of 2658894977397584784798734643877 colours identifiable by the Martian eye prevents any confusion. Contrary to planet earth, the female of the Martian is the more dominant of the species and the male has forever been a pawn in the women’s hands (slimy, ugly and fluorescent green).
The male martian is one of the geekiest creatures of the galaxy ( surpassed in geekiness only by the female students of COEP). However, tired of the torment and torture of the she-males of mars, all the males decided to leave the planet and colonize the newly cooled planet earth ( life on Mars began even before the earth had cooled down), far from the reach of their tormenters.

Now, the growth and development of the planet earth was being regulated by a strange little guy called God who called the whole process “genesis”. This guy was a really smart chappie and had created some great forests( mainly marijuana and opium) and large water bodies that he called oceans consisting mainly of fermented barley and ferments of various other fruits and grains. So far so good, said the slimy little martian males, but this guy soon planned on creating a stupid little creature called man, in his own image. Now god was a really smart ( and horny) guy by himself and if he created this “man” in his own image, it was obviously detrimental to Martian interests for this little species would multiply thousandfold before you can say “chakraborty”.

So the martians quietly sneaked into Gods harem while he was with one of the muses and kidnapped him in his sleep. They brought him back to Mars and updated him with the position. Now god was an understanding and sympathetic guy and instead of creating man he created 500 really big, ugly and slimy dinosaurs in the image of his cousin Spielberg.

This made the martians extremely happy, for these slimy monsters gobbled up all the earth’s opium and marijuana and through matter transportation fart-rays sent it all to mars where they all smoked pot, listened to pink floyd and got high. But soon the dinosaurs realized they were being used and started black-marketing some of the dope to various creatures around. This greatly annoyed the martians and god alike. So, one fine day they packed all the dinosaurs, all 5000 of them ( yeah, they had lots of sex), into little stones and went to sleep.

Thanks to all the opium they had been consuming, they slept for 65 million years….

to be continued...

Friday, July 29, 2005

forest gump junior's recaptulation

I am Forest……Son of Forest Gump and Ginny Gump
I am 7 yrs old and study in 2nd grade
My mamma stays in heaven and papa at home …and we have a passage way a little way from our house …where whatever we want delivered to laid…
It has an epitaph at its head and I write letters to her regularly which papa posts there….
I love playing ping pong with my father who is very good at it…he has several golden shiny medals which he won at it...
We also sit on the tree bark and fish for hours together…on a summer days after school…

When we go to sleep at night papa tells me tales of another Forest who was not as bright as me…who dint know counting and alphabets properly even in 2nd standard….jeez…poor kid…
But he had a fairy for a friend named Ginny….in the letters I wrote to mamma yesterday...I even asked her if she had met the fairy in heaven ...with her name…
Mamma seems too busy to reply ..or maybe...they dont have airplanes to deliver mails....which makes sense as fairylands..all over clouds..where would the planes land and take off from???
The tale (papa tells me)goes on like this…
Ginny…the fairy …was beautiful ….with golden locks and sparkle eyes and sunshine smile and starry dimples ….
When poor Forest was 1st sent to school he was friendless and lonely …and in a yellow school bus where people dint offer him company and seats adjacent to thiers.. ….and jeered at him too….for his crutches…and lop sided stride …
Then Ginny saw him…and offered him a place next to her…forest had never seen anything as beautiful as her….
At which juncture I asked papa if fairies too go to school and he told me education is necessary for all….
Ginny and Forest became friends and every time they would come back from school strolling in the lane, next to the fence parting the farms in front of Ginny’s house, the bad boys( I asked papa to call them jerks…but he insists on calling them “bad boys.”..isnt that kiddish???…we did that in kindergarten) would come on their bikes and throw stone at him…
Then Ginny the fairy… would say “run Forest run”…and magically convert his legs from weak to strong ones….

In the evenings they would sit on the tree barks as papa and I now do and fish like us...or talk about sunsets or water in the pond and the reflections….and sometimes.. at night, Ginny would come to Forest’s house because she would be scared…of her parents...They must have been demons…as bible says the son of the demon is an angel…

As they grew up Forest fell in love with the fairy but knew that he could never have her for a wife…..because he wasn’t smart enough.
1 day while being chased down by the same jerks who had now grown old but still hadnt given up their bad habbits..chased him down again ...this time down a rugby ground in midst of an ongoing match...
The coach noticed him run and wanted to use his pace to the teams placed him in the team for the next match…
His job was to sprint down the pitch every time the ball was thrown to him..which he did quite well...
He ran and outstripped the opponents who could barely come close enough to tackle him ..…but the stupid coach never told him when to stop running…papa says the coach was really dumb …

Monday, July 18, 2005

Statement One

The first activity for this blog is to write a short story or any other form of literary expression based on a film story. Completion date : Friday, 29th July.

Hope all of u read this in time.

Thursday, July 14, 2005


This is a private blog for writing exercises.