The Crooked Cockroach

An update

Posted in Uncategorized by cready on November 6, 2009

This post is just a small update. For all my new writings, please update your subscriptions to my old-new [that’s right! You’ll know why once you visit the old-new blog] address – here.

I no more am that damn cockroach anymore. Cockroaches have a small life span anyways. I’m just your regular guy next door with the same old sapne as you. I’m the guy your mom told you to stay clear of.

I – have just relocated.

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The pooper – Part I

Posted in Uncategorized by cready on November 4, 2009

The hostel my friends, has a lovely pooper
It poops here; it poops there
It poops every-damn-where

It poops in people’s room; it poops on the volley ball ground
On frantic searching it is never to be found

The pooper is a pain; O what a shame!
Not knowing where to drain, it makes me want to whip it with a cane

Now tell me, with all the filthy smell, wouldn’t you want to be cruel?
Sadly you can’t do anything
‘coz the pooper has the tiny office lady’s solid backing

Sometimes my friends, with great confusion I wonder
If life due to this pooper has become a big blunder
So, I think its time to flex the arm
Before this place becomes a s******g farm

Arise! Awake! And fight back
‘coz pooping randomly isn’t any average Joe’s knack

If on reading the above ‘poem’ you haven’t gotten who all I’m trying to poke, it’s only because you’re not part of the place where I’m staying right now. So, to enlighten the ignorant [and logically the lucky – for having escaped the wrath of the demoniac pooping cats] among you about the latest problem in my life [ya, ya, I know I get obsessed with the pettiest of matters], here it is in simple words:

There’s a lady. She has a billi. No, not one actually, she has the daddy, mommy, three-four kittens, their grand dad, grand mom, aunt, uncle…the whole damn package. But every story should have a central character, right? So for this story, I’ll make this ‘one billi‘¬† the hero of my kahaani. And what does our hero do? He poops in a devil-may-care manner wherever he finds suitable. Now each member of this family tree poops, but I’m having so much trouble tracking one billi‘s poop that I’ll just pile it all up on our hero itself. Surprisingly, he never finds the lady’s room poop-worthy; I don’t know why. Is it because it is so damn yuck that makes even the pooper go pink with blushes? Or is it genuine respect for the lady and her personal space? Now that is one tough question I’ll leave you to ponder over.

Now, I’ve been staying here for a couple of years and dozens of students have come and gone past. But never did we see any woman. Me and my closest buddies always used to feel how barren this place was with respect to the factor of women. It felt like a jail of some kind, some sort of emotional torture. And when I used to see these pictures of my male friends back home cuddling all these women on social networking sites, it used to end up wondering where did it all go so wrong for me. It was in those desperate, wretched moments that an atheist like me used to pray to God and beg for a little mercy.

The Almighty finally heard my plea – and gifted me and my buddies with the lady. Little did we know that what was coming along was also an avalanche of poop. The first few days and months went nicely; everything was lovey-dovey. We flirted; the lady flirted back. We laughed; the lady laughed along with us. Life was a fairy tale. My faith in God slowly but finally began getting restored.

But the damn cats came along soon. The irony of this story is that the hero billi himself is the villain. Actually the lady didn’t bring them from outside, but they were adopted from the original Godfather of the cats, Mr. Apa, when he left about a year ago. Now, don’t even get me started where this bizarre name comes from – that can spawn a whole new story in itself. I don’t know what the Godfather Apa is up to these days, except I saw him roaming the hallowed corridors of my hostel a few days back with a nicely grown beard [looking much like a cat with whiskers himself].

As I was saying, the cats came along.

Now we are finally ready to embark upon the Adventures of the Lady and the Billi in the magical land of My Hostel. I have a lot to tell you, but I’ll just save it up for my next post. So, far I’ve established the history of the cats and this might seem an abrupt ending, but I guess you should also get used to billis and their antics like we guys did, isn’t it? I promise I’ll be back with a lot of s*** for you to read.

Till then, keep wondering what if the Lady had taught the cats to do ‘it’ this way –

The cat's gotta poop

I never would have come up with this story [:)]. It’s sad that cat lovers don’t have even this amount of common sense.

Hope

Posted in Uncategorized by cready on September 30, 2009

For the first time of my three years here, I’m feeling I’m running out of time.

As they often say, its a ‘race against time’. Is it a race against will? Honestly, I don’t know. Its so maddening right now that I don’t even have a half an hour to write a nice post about such an interesting topic. But its also so sickening that I’m revolting against time, common sense and every damn thing around and writing something here, spending precious time. You know why? Because it just gives me peace of mind. This writing break makes me feel as if I’m starting all over from zero. And believe it or not, its a good feeling.

I don’t know when I’ll be back here. I don’t know what the future has in store for me. Its hard to make out a melody out of all this noise around. But I hope. I hope¬† like an eternal optimist. My hope is as carefree as a young kid running wildly in the countryside against the mighty wind, completely oblivious and innocent to what lays in front of him. I hope like a despaired farmer who looks at his barren, dry land and then up there towards the scotching sun in the hope that the rain Gods will finally smile upon him. I hope in spite of knowing that it can drive a man to insanity. My hope is much like a baby’s inhibition-less nap. I hope with such addiction which only a drunkard would know. I hope my future will be as sweet as I have smiled upon in my dreams.

But most of all, I hope because in spite of a few minor hiccups, I know I’m a good person and if at all somebody is there up there, He will not punish me with something which I don’t deserve.

May the stars shine upon me.

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A rambunctious rant

Posted in Uncategorized by cready on September 10, 2009

It’s one of those days when you realize you don’t deserve what life is offering you right now. I’m in a foul mood today, just having returned from a very questionable lunch. Mind you, I’m not one of those types who eat like pigs. I’m a very decent eater who has food just at the right time in the right proportion. And every time I think and realize this, I feel terrible for myself. My mind keeps asking the same “Why me?” to an empty response, only making me even more bitter.

I hate the food. I hate the gut wrenching heat. I hate the smelly, oily people. And every time I hear someone around blabbering in the local language, I almost feel like giving the guy one giant punch in his sick face so that he won’t ever open his God damned mouth. If you are one of those local-ites who know me, I apologize, but it has truly become unbearable now. I’m sick of that sabji that we guys literally call cement ki sabji; I’m sick of the questionable liquid which tastes only like a lot of salt mixed in water. I mean, come one people! Is this food? It’s just a drink which you actually could have in the afternoon time while reading a novel or something. I’m sick of the infinite amount of rice which I never liked much in the first place.I look around and see people swallowing gigantic amounts of it and I can’t help but wonder how they never get constipated or tired of it. All this just reminds me of those sweet hands of my mother when she used to prepare nice, healthy food for me. I feel so terrible now for giving her a hard time then!

Life here has become a nightmare. Sit in the room for half an hour in the afternoon, and I bet you’ll sweat your ass off in spite of the fan running at full speed above you.

And there’s no way to improve the situation, thanks to a stupid crackpot of a professor we have, SS. He’s the biggest bastard life could offer you. Kind of reminds me of Satan! SS – students’ Satan. A sadist who derives pleasure out of his students’ misery. A guy who told one of my friends’ to ‘change his taste buds’ when he went to complain about the food. I swear to God I’m going to have my revenge before I get out of here. The slimy moron will get an earful from me sooner or later. I don’t care how older he is than me or how intelligent he is [which I highly doubt, after judging him from my conversations with him]. I’m going to drug him so hard that he never will come out of those hallucinations. He thinks he’s a dude when he talks in characteristic style with us students. Wait for a little more time, you loud-mouthed brat. I’ll make you the biggest dud there ever was or there ever will be.

You know what, I’ve not picked up a fight with anyone in a long, long time. I haven’t lost my temper either. This comes from a guy who used to panic at the drop of a hat. Honestly, I’m not proud of it, but believe me, I have this built up rage within me just waiting to explode on someone. And I just wish this time, it spills out on someone who truly deserves it – SS.

Are you listening, SS?

Are you listening, SS?

Bring on your antics, sucker! I’ll give you a butt-kicking of a lifetime so hard that you’ll run wailing to your mommy with your bruised tushy.

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