Samosa

From the petty chaat-spots to the pretty big ones, wherever it is; the Samosa lures a lot of people. Having a crispy cover on the outside, the Samosa seduces almost anyone from almost any place.  People don’t know what lies inside until they have it in their own hands and taste it. Yet the crispy cover is all they require to get fatally attracted towards it. Sometimes, it tastes good inside. Sometimes it doesn’t.

Such is life

Life is also pretty much like that. We just see the external appearance of someone’s life and wish we had their life… Okay wait. I know. I know. I am trying too much to talk philosophy with Samosa. It’s just that I was, er, having lot of Samosas and it inspired me to write something.

But what? 

For a change, I thought of writing something sensible like: about the Planning Commission or something but since even they make lesser sense than this blog, I would stick to my forte (of writing random nonsense.)

And the subjects we will cover through this blog are:
1. My fourth semester at college, which was pretty cheerful.
2. The IPL, which was full of cheerleaders.
(Skip to IPL if you don't wanna get bored reading personal stuff.)

1. The Semester #4 That Was:

   

Academically speaking, ‘I had miles to go and promises to keep’ before I started this year. Motivation was the petrol for me to cross those miles. And like people in Chennai, I too found it ‘out of stock’.

And, non-academically speaking, the year fared reasonably well, unlike Indian economy. A few classmates became friends; a few friends became best friends and as usual, no girl became a girlfriend. 

The class really got together and had great fun while giving the seniors their farewell-party. We practiced (?) for a week, so that things go ‘according to the plan (?)’ on the day of farewell. And according to the class, the farewell day was a great success despite the deflated decorative balloons; deficit in the number of mikes and poor lighting on the dais. However, we gave the seniors pretty good pizzas and burgers to snack before the skit-song-dance show started, so they didn’t complain much and agreed with us. 

After the show, everyone spoke about how they were going to miss the campus (even though most of them had been bitching about it till then). Some of them cried because they would not see each other again. Some of them clicked pictures. And, some like me (or was it only me?) was hunting for leftover Pizzas. 

We, as a class, became best buddies during this farewell period. Thanks a lot to our seniors… for, er, leaving the college.

The trip to Ooty, which is always characterized by hairpin bends; mischievous monkeys; bored varkey-munching, tea-drinking locals; sweater-sellers and cold weather, was a warm affair this time with all the friends and two really cool Profs around. Two of the classmates missed the trip due to inevitable reasons. However, we bought them chocolates and made them feel bad by telling them all the fun we had. And, to make them feel worse, I ate half their chocolates, too. They should've now learnt not to give 'inevitable reasons' for not coming.

I also made good friends with people outside my class. Though I generally spoke with everyone, these three were the ones with whom I chatted the most apart from my classmates. The ex-editor of my college newspaper, one tall self-confessed introvert (my newly-inherited brother) and another sweet-smiling psycho(logy) freak (my newly inherited sister). I am also friends with the chocolate-obsessed blogger (thank you for directing me to blogger); one girl who always complains about life; one boy who shoots everything around him (with a badass camera); one die-hard Sourav Ganguly fanboy and fangirl; the bus-mate et alia.    

What else? Oh yeah, IPL. *Signature trumpet theme* *skin-clad girls dancing around Sidhu*

IPL:

This year’s IPL was at its usual best with glitz, glamour, celebrities, controversies, and... what else? oh yeah, cricket. After ‘bleeding blue’ for the most part of the year, people bled in different colours for the colourful carnival. Chennai in yellow; Mumbai in blue and gold; Kolkata in purple and gold; and Kochi er, watched Santhosh trophy. [The fact that Kochi was not allowed to participate made the carnival less colourful (literally speaking).]  

For two months, IPL acted as the opium that made people forget their anguishes of corruption, inflation, poor governance and most importantly, the Indian team’s poor form. People tuned into the TV to see Chris Gayle smoking sixes and SRK smoking cigarettes. 

However, the TV had to be kept muted all the time as they feared Danny Morrison’s sonic-boom. Every time a ball was hit for six, Danny Morrison yelled FANTASTIC and that wiped out the majority of the bat species (which gets affected by noise pollution). Or to put it in rhyme: ‘Every time the ball was skied; Danny cried and the bats died’.    

Since IPL is a commercial event and all, there were too many commercials during the break and way too many during the match. If a ball went out of the ground, it was a ‘DLF maximum’; if Ashish Nehra bowled a dot ball, it was called a ‘Citi Moment of Success’; if a catch was taken, it was a ‘Karbon Kamal Catch’ and when the catch was dropped it was ‘Almost A Karbon Kamal Catch’.

'It could've been a DLF maximum; but instead it's a Karbon Kamal Catch and that is a Citi Moment of Success'
-L Siva

The league stage was exciting to watch as all the teams (except Pune Warriors and Deccan Chargers) vied for a place in the play-offs. Deccan and Pune was involved in their own contest of ‘let’s-see-who finishes-last’ in which Pune won, hands down. Dada had to put his head down. And that meant the Kolkata people had to be content with supporting for their home-team in the play-offs

Like it happens in Indian politics, ‘Delhi’ made way for ‘West Bengal’ in the play-offs. And, as expected, Chennai did all unexpected things to secure a place in the finals. Thanks to Srini. Er, I mean, Dhoni. Well, many say the finals was fixed on the basis of illegal betting and all that, but I still believe that it was decided on the basis of the team owner's cart-wheeling skills. And needless to say, Chennai didn’t win (N. Srinivasan doing a cartwheel is too terrifying to even imagine.) 

KKR, meanwhile, ‘Korbo-ed, Lorbo-ed and Jeetbo-ed’ and went overboard in their celebration and eventually got booed.

Oh. I think the chutney got over. I will go re-fill it. Until then you snack on the ‘Samosa’ #CoolPun.