Brit Rock. Not Stonehenge.

I went for a concert. I (well technically Grishma) was on the list. We went there and said, "Grishma Rao + 2. We're on the list." And we were given instant access, no entry fee or anything.

I've always wanted to be one of those listey people. It feels nice. And it saves a buttload of cash too. Here are some photos.


Note: I was drinking Coke. Not Old Monk + Coke.

His Majesty, Sir Kunal

I am the great, one and only, totally magnificent marvelous all round good guy. Yes, I am Sir Kunal.

The other day, I was at an office outing and rather enjoying myself, which is quite a feat. An air of tediousness is often found hanging about office outings, mainly a result of minions completely confused in the informal, yet officey environment.

But I ofcourse, had no such problems. I said what I thought and held back no words coated with uncertain sugar. I could freely speak my mind, for I am brave and unconcerned with appearances and also I had recently quit (the very same office job).

To prove my point, I walked up to one of the many vassals and called him a reproductive organ. Why? Because I could. Because that is who I am. Sir Kunal.

But the inevitable mundane conversation grew tiresome. Off I went exploring the hills and soon came to a group of giggling women at the bottom of a small, albeit vertical, cliff.

Women exist to be impressed by my awesome skillz. Thus, in a bid to perform said impressing, I challenged them to climb the cliff. This was all a part of my secret plan to get them to dare ME to climb the cliff. While wearing floaters. And slightly inebriated.

My secret plan succeeded.

"Poof," I said, with a touch of "I could do that with one hand tied behind my back". I accepted their challenge knowing that once I succeeded, they shall swoon all over me.

I took a few seconds to utter an wicked laugh to myself and wring my hands in an evil manner. Muahahahahahaha. Then to the climb.

And so I climbed. Up and up I went and before I knew it, I was 40 feet in the air. I could feel the aura of swooning-ness emanating from them chicks below. I could feel the earth and rocks in my face as I slowly turned to face the world from my awesome vantage spot. This is EPIC, I thought.

Yes, finally! I shall be king of all I survey! Off with their heads!

Alas! But unfortunately I underestimated my rivals. No doubt utterly jealous of my success, one of my competitors had hurled rocks at me from above in an effort to undermine my efforts. And the worst part is that he did triumph.

And down I fell to the ground, scraping and screaming all the way. "Crunch" was the sound I remember. Ouch. By a miracle, I had avoided becoming the Late Great Sir Kunal, but only by a miracle. Foiled by some confounded minions. How embarrassing.

The world then proceeded to go black as I was cooking up a rescue story (in which I was the hero) to tell the world, lest they accuse me of being an inept climber.

...

Cool story bro.

Harishchandragad – The First Trek

Harishchandragad. The very very first trek we did. Certainly it was one of the more difficult treks I've done (perhaps only Kulang was more rigorous), it was not particularly green either. And we were lost and sans-water "almost-dead" too. But if this trek had not been so amazing, so much fun, then I would never have gone on those hundreds of other ones.

Now I wonder if I would ever have got to know Krishna and KP so well, and Ankoor Das at all, had we not gone on this trek.

Junta. (L to R):

Jerome, PD, Me, Das, (who is that?), KP, Krishna (photographer)

Ummmmm... Yeah. We're lost.

Konkankada. What an Insane drop!

Ah Waters! We have waters again!

The valley as we crossed hills

KP's bullock cart. :)

It would have been so cool to write down those "Trek Diaries" we always said we would but never got around to doing. Maybe I should do it for real this time.

How I Got My Name (According to the Venerable Saint KP)

Apparently, my father was a most enthusiastic runner. He used to run to work, run back from work and also run whilst on lunch break. He even ran to his convocation.

His absolutely favourite phrase, as it is for any self-respecting runner, was "Ready, Steady, Go!". Unfortunately, he was, evidently, from a hidden South-Indian island where due to local language pressures, he only learnt to say "Reddy, Seddy, Gho!"

And later, deciding to name me after his passion, he named me Seddy.

In time, I was knighed, and hence became Sir Seddy. And ofcourse, what use is a knight without a coat of armour and a singh? Hence I came to be called "Sir Seddy Singh". Apparently the alliteration appealed so much to me that I legally changed my name.

Of this story, I was not aware and I am extremely glad that dear KP brought it to my notice. I am forever indebted to you for telling me.

Oh, For A Cake!

This is a story. A true story indeed. It took place almost 1 year-and-a-half ago, in Goa. It's the story of a bike ride. The task - to fetch a cake.

You see, Chaitrali had just celebrated her birthday and Krishna had got her a most excellent cake and wine as well. Now, it was KP's turn and we decided to awesomeofy his day. This involved: (a) Wishing him. (We always forget 'coz his b'day lies in the middle of Summer. To be honest, it was a fair exchange since he never got birthday bumps either). (b) Getting him a cake! (c) Letting him cut his cake in the hotel pool-side bar while sitting inside the pool lounging like a king.

KP arrived in Goa in his own unique true trailblazing style, albeit a whole 2 days late. He hitchhiked "all the way" there. Now while hitchhiking, travel is only possible till about 5 PM, post which a place to put up for the night needs to be sought. For a person who can only get up at 11, this posed a problem. So, after getting only about 200 Km in 3 days (already 1 day late), he simply hopped on a train heading in the right direction and got there.

Upon arrival, he was promptly mistaken for a ragpicker (it was the stench). Jigisha also burned him pretty bad by shaving off the stubble on only half his face. See the pic. It was quite funny :-)

In the meantime, we were up to buying lots of beer. 4 crates of Kings beer at Rs. 12 a pint! This was supposed to be my "getting-into-IIM" gift. Only, the results had been delayed. I bought the beer anyway. Then, we proceeded to close-pack them. What you see here in only HALF of the bottles. The rest are in the other fridge. As you can see, lots of chemistry fundae have been applied to fit them in. This was Joydeep's work. He is clearly destined for great things.

Now, about the bike ride, here we all are pretending that we've forgotten KP's birthday. Already 9 hours into the day (counting from midnight ofcourse) and no one's wished him. I'm sure he must have been debating, "Should I tell them? Will that appear too needy? Ah screw it! I AM needy. I should tell them. But nooo... they'll make fun it it. Hmm. This is difficult."

On the next pic, before you judge us, we were pretending to be a boy band posing a cover photo. Look at the blank stares and the random directions we're looking in. We hate boy bands.

Joydeep and I picked up our dinky little bike and set off like true macho men (ie: Without sunblock). Yes, that is the yardstick of machoness of our generation. No more playing with knives, wrestling or juggling chainsaws.

So we headed all the way to the next town, which we were told, had a bakery! And since we were going, we were also asked to pick up a *few* other things - Carnations for Krishna, Goa-sausages for cooking junta, Prawns pickle, Bibinca and what not.

We reached and purchased stuff without incident. But now, we were faced with the daunting task of carrying a flimsy cake box and 25 Kgs of other associated luggage 13 Km back to hotel on a bloody bike!

And as we set off, we took a U-turn just outside the city, on the highway and this idiot of a bike rider comes and for some reason doesn't *see* us turning (though we had been turning for a good 30 seconds. It was a big turn). Comes and dashes straight into us and goes careening off into the side of the road. Somehow we hold on. The bike falls, but thanks to elite balancing skills, the cake is unharmed. Phew!

The food on this whole trip was just something incredible. Here above is probably the most epic meal we had. Scrumptious lobster, wine, hookahs, fish and a lot more, by the beach. Just. Simply. Fantastic.

Now, after having risked our lives and skins (accident and no-sunblock respectively), we finally reached the hotel, got KP to close his eyes for a while and had a cake in front of him, candles and all! They were playing mafia in the pool and KP got to drink a beer and cut his cake while sitting on the underwater chairs. Success! :-)

The above picture is of a candle-lit dinner that Rylan, Joy and I shared. We cooked ourselves. Fried eggs, Goa sausages, boiled potatoes and bread. Coffee and beer. Bibinca for dessert. Deelicious. As I said before, the food on this entire trip was a mini-trip in itself.

Ofcourse the vegetarians. They ate from subway. Hahahhahahahaha! (Just being a little mean. But yeah. They did loose out big-time on the food bit). We also ate bacon-and-ham sandwiches. I remember getting to a shack and ordering one. Others took a bite and were like "Waiter! One more what-he's-having!" :-)

Contri Dinner

Have you ever heard of "going dutch"? It's when everyone pays for their own share of dinner as opposed to the traditional "man pays" approach. That ofcourse, is the traditional meaning of "going dutch". In our reference frames, it has more to do with Tetrahydrocannabinol.

Anyhow, you see I've always harboured plans of complete and total world domination. I know "complete and total" is a little redundant, but complete world domination just isin't enough for the likes of me. To this end, I have cultivated a friends-circle of like minded Evil villians for two reasons: One, to learn of new and improved techniques of evilness and two, so I know who all to backstab when I *finally* do take over the world.

Once, in a brilliant spurt of enthu, rarely observed in sloths, Godwani (friend from aforementioned evil circle) contemplated that we should have a blog where we can discuss our plans of world domination, and also coffee. Hence, Contri Dinner was born. With 4 posts in 4 years, this was clearly the highest priority in our lives. Rest assured, the blog lay dormant, like a mango-seed in a desert, waiting for the day that someone has pity on it and puts it out of its misery eats it (all puns intended).

But now that we're in Ahmedabad at the same time, with no option but to mug away to glory, we've decided (actually, I've decided and I'll beat 'gid with a stick till he agrees) to bring the blog back to life. Ofcourse, the blog has come to life before. 3 times to be precise. Lets hope that this time it doesn't lapse back into one of those unconcious thingies, for I would be too embarassed by this and I might have to climb into a little black corner of the web and refuse to ever come out.

Anyhow, have a read. The first post is http://contridinner.blogspot.com/2006/03/food-or-something-like-that.html and the latest one can be found at http://contridinner.blogspot.com/. Add it to your Google Readers, or whatever you use. And do post comments too. We'll be back with enough random bullshit in the coming days.

Any donations towards our effors of total and complete world domination are highly appreciated.

Kung Fubu Panda

(by KP and Jose)

The rotund warrior settled into his chair with the silky smooth precision of a crab, his substantial behind settling into the soft padding material displacing it so that it snuck up the nether-region between the cheeks and there it stayed. Stayed atleast, till he shifted for more comfort.

Few dared approach him lest they be blinded by the rays os SHEER OSSOMNESS that emanated so freely from him.

The Rotund Warrior then took a bite from his sandwich , picked up the phone and used his fearsome voice
to sell stuff.

Dreamsatwork presents: Kung-Fubu Panda as he should have been :)

(Statutory Warning: Bad Photoshopping Ahead - proceed at your own risk:)

Nagaon (Reprise)

Encore!

Mood Indigo 2007. Was the most fun I've had in a long time. We did so much! Here's a quick roundup:

Begging - Yups. The best staccato begging session *ever*! We earned some 150 bucks apparently! We also came on TV and on the net! Long live the buttscratchers!

Unicycling - A one wheel cycle... And we (sort-of) managed to ride it! The dude was teaching us. Nice fun :) Must do this more!

Treasure Hunt - Came in 2nd. Damn you Jose!... More phones again :-/

Kp sang - At LIVEWIRE elims and at this chilled out "Sultans of Strings". It was this sort of impromptu jam-singing thingy that only KP can pull off. He started reading advertisements as lyrics!

Dancing to RD Burman - Okay, this was cheesy. I shan't elaborate, but just that a small bunch of us inspired the whole convo to come out and swing around!

Pronites - LIVEWIRE and Pop Nite. I think Pop Nite was better... No.. really!... TAAQ were damn good too :)

Jam - lol lol lol lol... (as usual)

sms clear 40 - congos Arvind :)

Nikita won - a VIAO and an XBOX 360! Lucky bitch. I'm jealous. Yeah.. she cracked off at MI Most Wanted. Great job you!

Met old friends - All the MI punters, GIDDU!!!, Sahil, Mahesh et al, Grish, Nidhi, Nikita. Great to see everyone again :)

And new ones - :)

Loads of drinking all round (I actually drunk *very* little this year :P)

Broken toenails. Sigh.

Dumbass

Disclaimer: To the guys mentioned below: If you feel insulted, then don't get upset with me. Hey, the truth hurts. Do this: Just ask the other people (below) if you deserve the Dunce Cap after what you did (or are doing). You'll see nods of agreement :-P

... ... ...

KP's zis guy youknow. He's a Dumbass. You see, he needs some marks to pass a course. And ofcourse, there are some course assignments worth.. *10 marks*! Perfect huh? But ofcourse, he hasn't submitted them. What does that make him? Yes... a Dumbass.

Emani's zis guy youknow. Like KP, he is also a Dumbass. In addition to being a Dumbass, he is also a Frigtard. Here is why: For years, he's been driving drunk. No, not just "Oh, 1 beer! I can drive" type drunk, but a "I might be [sarcasm]slightly[/sarcasm] high, but I've done this before" - that type of drunk.

Yes, I know - doing that only makes him a Dumbass and not a Frigtard. But here the punch: He drives a bike. And he drives it and speeds which might be dangerous even when *not* soaked (Clap clap clap: Emani's now promoted to Frigtard!) So, now he's totalled his bike and fractured his hand. He is also lucky to be alive. Dumbass Frigtard. (Oh, please send him "Get well soon.... DUMBASS!" messages ;) )

At this point, I would also like to mention Krishna "But the coach maaroed senti to play, rey!" Ramkumar. Playing Inter IIT with a broken knee, risking not being able to walk for life. Yes. Dumbass.

I realized yesterday that some of my friends are Dumbasses. With a Capital D. Now go up and read the disclaimer.

Begging Bowls

Have you ever gone begging? (Possible reactions at this point are: No! and Ewww!)

Well, in accordance with the World-Wise view that "Everything Should Be Tried Once" (Note the Capitalization), we decided it's time to try our hand at begging. God, we're IITians. We oughtta be good at begging right?

So, that's that. Guitars in hand and a handy begging bowl (guitar case) on the ground, we started singing. Right in the middle of Galleria! :D

KP and Freshie playing guitar. Me posing.

Lookie who's there! Saaajid. The Lookah :P

Artistic Pic.. The "Beggars Galleria"

Loook! People gave Monnneyyy!!!

So, we had some awesome guitaring by Freshie/Sophie punters. And some great singing by KP. Vishnoi and I hung around like the *professional* lukkhas that we are ;)

Good times. Good times.

Rajmachi in Reverse