Bas Yun hi.

The Anatomy of Attraction

Guys are attracted to girls. And in a not so obvious, but perhaps more intense way, vice versa.

The basic reason behind this attraction is simple – reproduction. It is hard coded within every individual that it wants to reproduce and further its species.

The physical and emotional characteristics given to man and woman are in direct correlation to their functions in this reproductive cycle. Men give the required fluid which the female takes and fertilizes it and carries it in her body. It is the female which has to carry the child not only within her physical confines, but also after it is born. It has to understand the unsaid expressions of the young one of the specie while it is not only helpless and can’t fend for itself, but also can’t express itself. That is why the enhanced power of perception in the female.

The anatomy of attraction is further refined by the of another primal instinct – survival. Every specie wants survival – not just of itself but also of its gene. For that, it needs healthy carrier individual which can expand its gene.

Men find women with wide bottoms and large tops attractive. While the former suggest to their primal instinct that the female will be capable of carrying a large (and potentially healthy) child, the latter are suggestive of better feeding facilities for their offspring.

This kinda explains why men are attracted to a female body. But why aren’t females attracted to a man’s body to the same extent? Why is it that the male mind (or whatever he projects of it) is more important to female in deciding her partner rather than certain characteristics of the male body which might perhaps suggest more fertility?

The answer could lie in the characteristic which females have evolved through the millennia breeding their child : the power of perception.

Every female, like the male, wants to further her gene and for that wants that gene to be carried by the strongest carriers. But unlike the male, she has the foresight to understand that the strongest carrier will be the one with the maximum intelligence, not necessarily with the maximum physical capabilities.

In other words, using her powers of perception, the female sees through her potential offspring with the male specie – and more correctly evaluates which one would be stronger: this combination, or that.

All this, while all the man keeps thinking about is the front and the behind.

Categories: Arbit, Uncategorized | 12 Comments

Into the horizon

It was one o’clock in the night. All through the previous day, people had been closely following what looked at that time to be the strange and increasingly worrisome disappearance of Dr. YSR from over the Nallamalla forests. Sanket and myself, along with Sanket’s cousin were closely following each and every second of coverage of the disappearance over the net, while BCing away to glory into the night. Out of our fertile imaginations, various theories about what could have happened, what will happen next and the reasons for them were emerging.

Out of the blue, Sanket suggested that we went to Kurnool and took a first hand look at the search operations going on. We looked up the search area on Wikimapia, and realized that it was some 100 km farther from Kurnool. Kurnool is some 250 km from Hyderabad. We figured out that the round trip from our home in Kondapur, Hyderabad to the search area and back would take the entire next day. We still decided to go ahead and leave at 2 o’clock in the night, i.e. in half an hour from then. I went downstairs to clean my bike to get it ready for the trip.

It was only then that Sanket’s elder cousin, who had been a party to all the planning we were doing realized that we seriously intended to go. He firmly put his foot down on the plan, saying that there was no way he was going to let us go at 2o’clock in the night to cover 700 km on bikes, in the middle of the monsoon season to the Naxal infested Nallamalla forests on a wild goose chase. We decided to reason with him, but realized that it was futile. So with our tails firmly between our legs, we went to sleep at around 2:30.


As soon as the news of Dr. YSR’s death reached Hyderabad,  there was mourning all around. In addition, there were chaos. Congress workers started shutting down shops. They sent home all the public transport and beat to pulp anyone who dared protest. Our managers sent us home as a precautionary measure. Since office had closed for the next day, which happened to be a friday, also, this translated into an extra long weekend for us. Both of us had been wanting to go to Mumbai for some time, so we decided that this was the best time to do that.

We left at around 4:00 in the evening from our flat on Sanket’s Thunderbird. We looked for an ATM to withdraw some cash, but realized that even the ATMs had not been spared the bandh. Similar was the case with petrol pumps too. Along the roads, there were signs of violence. Tyres were burning here and there.

We reached a deserted Allwyn Circle, halted our bike and shouted questioningly over the roar of the Royal Enfield to a lone 7-Seater driver –


Looking us up and down with some curiosity, he pointed out towards what I already knew was the direction on the highway.

We set sail for Mumbai. With exactly Three Hundred and Sixty bucks in our combined pockets and 80 kilometers’ worth of fuel in our tank, with no source of cash and/or fuel nearby, and faced with a situation unprecedented in the history of India due to which we did not have a clue as to how far we’d have to go before we found any of these. But none of it mattered, really.

‘Coz we were on the road. Under the boundless sky.

Part II:

Categories: Arbit, Travelogue | 10 Comments

Hi, good morning… thank you, good night sir

It’s been a really long time since I last posted. I know it’s really uncharacteristic of me. But life has changed so much over the past few months that I’m wondering whether a stable concept like ‘characteristic’ even exists.

My last post was around three months back. The last comment on this blog came about two months back. I’ve written exactly one poem in the past three months. I now own a bike, live in a flat, earn some money, take a bath twice a day, wear formals everyday and shave once in two days. Over the past three months, I gained ten kgs, before shedding four of them.

I’ve been drinking roughly about twice a week, have made three bike trips longer than 150km over the past month, and look forward to many more.

I remained in isolation as a suspect swine flu case for three days.

I once blew up 1500 bucks on booze in a single evening, smoked bong, rode 450km bike in a single day, and twice lifted 30kg in Bench Press.

I’ve quit running.

I fell in love once, but have been forced to remain single. And I’ve figured out that that’s the way it’s gonna be unless something really, really unusual happens.

I’m sitting in office alone, the surrounding average age is in excess of 30 years, I have no idea when the day will start, much less when it will end. And I have decided that letting my blog die wouldn’t be a great idea. I wrote all that came to my mind, and would like a longer comeback post. So here I’m assuming Namrata’s tag and answering some random questions with all the honesty that I’m capable of…

1. When you looked at yourself in the mirror today, what was the first thing you thought?
“No dude, not the bed again!”

2. How much cash do you have in your wallet right now?
INR 71/-

3. What’s a word that rhymes with DOOR?

4. Who is the 4th person on your missed call list on your cell phone?
My didi

5. What is your favorite ring tone on your phone?
No favorites here, but the standard Nokia tune’s been there for a long time now.

6. What are you wearing right now?
A striped formal shirt over a pair of dark pleated trousers and formal shoes.

7. Do you label yourself?
I sometimes try to.

8. Name the brand of the shoes you’re currently owning?
Reebok, Adidas, Gliders

9. Bright or Dark Room?

10. What do you think about the person who took this survey before you?
Namrata. She works on the same floor as me.

11. What does your watch look like?
I don’t own any.

12. What were you doing at midnight last night?
I was asleep.

13. What did your last text message you received on your cell say?
Last night. Daddu asking me how it was like to work.

14. What’s a word that you say a lot?

15. Who told you he/she loved you last? (please exclude spouse , family, children)
I’m yet to open my account here.

16. Last furry thing you touched?
A random teddy bear in… I think Reliance Fresh a few days ago.

17. Favorite age you have been so far?
My Solahwan Saal – (Sixteenth year, class X)

18. What was the last thing you said to someone?
“Excuse me… hi, do you know when Padmini comes in? ”

19. The last song you listened to?
Alvida, last evening, in the office.

20. Where did you live in 1987?

21. Are you jealous of anyone?
Not jealous, but yeah, envious of a lot of people.

22. Is anyone jealous of you?
Would someone be?

23. Name three things that you have on you at all times?
My wallet, my cellphone, my handkerchief.

24. What’s your favorite town/city?
Kasol, followed by Hyderabad.

25. When was the last time you wrote a letter to someone on paper and mailed it?
I think it was a loveletter I wrote to my first crush, way back in class X.

26. Can you change the oil on a car?
Would like to learn how to.

27. Your first love/big crush: what is the last thing you heard about him/her?
That she’s now an Air hostess with Kingfisher Airlines.

28. Does anything hurt on your body right now?
Surprisingly, no.

29. What is your current desktop picture?
Bank of America logo.

30. Have you been burnt by love?
What’s that?

PS: Book I’m reading – ‘Audacity of Hope’ by Barack Obama. Wish we had politicians like that in our country, too. And wish I could read more books 🙂

Categories: Arbit, Myself | 19 Comments


Empty chips packets, bought to stave off the mind numbing hunger which results from missed lunches. Fruit peels, the reminders of the promises of a healthy lifestyle made to self over the years. Piles and piles of newspapers, drooled over during exams, untouched otherwise. Except for special reasons.

CAT and placement books on the table – reminders of those bygone times when I used to think about studying. The entire wardrobe on the backrests of the chair of the bed. Colorful, random crumbs on one particular pair of jeans. Remind me of that crazy farewell drink.

Eggs, egg peals, chaney, Tiger Balm – remnants of the sports day.

A few black wristbands, random gifts I picked from Tirupati for my sisters, never presented it to them. A green pen, bought long ago, for no particular reason. An orange colored whistle, looted from Himank on our awesome last cult nite.

A pair of scissors, bought to trim nose hair. Small pin-up national flags, long preserved on the window sill. Broken pairs of glasses, from one of the dirt football matches. A small lock whose keys I lost somewhere.

A game of cube I could never solve. Coins left randomly here and there. In times when the need to really scrounge for money arose, their predecessors always showed themselves up out of the un-likeliest of corners.

Question papers, memorabilia of all those dreaded times one could never wait to get out from.

The dust on the guitar, the less than perfect laptop and the huge Shield won on the sports day.

And finally, the reminder pads and sticky notes, bought to remind myself of cleaning the room, and later cosigned to the piles of debris.

Such richness, so many souvenirs. It never ceases to amaze me how much memorabilia you can collect only if you don’t clean up your room!

And just to think that after tomorrow, it’ll all be gone…

Categories: Arbit, IIIT | 7 Comments


Time: 1:30 PM

Place: A small shaded patch under a tree, in front of GH.

(Me and sashidhar are five minutes into a conversation)

Me: So Sashidhar, where are you going right now? Lab, I suppose?

Sashi (with complete sincerity): Man, I was going to the lab, but as I started talking to y0u, I no longer feel like going to the lab and working again. I just want to go to the hostel and relaaaaxx. Chal let’s walk to the OBH, na…

Me: (Needless to say, speechless. With a five inches wider chest.)

Wow! The aura of vellapanti around me is so strong that its five minutes’ rub-off is enough to put even CVITians off their work. And I have to live with it, 24/7. I just hope someone up there is looking after me…

Categories: Arbit, IIIT, Incidences | 16 Comments

My First Tag Post

I’d wanted to post for some time now. Have a few saved drafts, as well as a few ideas. Also a request. Will work on them. Right now, it’s Thanks to anks, because of whom I’m writing my first tag post.

A- Age: 22 years.

B- Band listening to right now: Nothing at the moment, but I guess it’s Bruce Springsteen these days.

C- Career: As a manager.

D – Drink or smoke: Both.

E – Easiest friend to talk to: My Didi.

F – Funniest moment of your life: Have been in my school. In IIIT, it’s Samba’s room that takes the cake.

G-Gummy bears or gummy worms: Never experienced either.

H-Have a boyfriend/girlfriend: Nope.

I-In love: With life? YEAAAHHHHHH….

J-Junk food you like: Pao-Bhaji, Kadhi Kachoudi from the lanes of Ajmer, subs, cheese burst pizzas, Lays…

K-Kids: Love them. Totally. But the thought that some day I might have some of my own gives me the creeps. What if one of them turns out to be like me!!!

L-Longest ride ever: Fron Begumpet airport to Hotel City Park, in an auto, with the Indian Ocean following behind in a Qualis.

M-Man/woman you love the most: Have to be the people in my family.

N-Names for your kids: Brrrrr!!!

O-One wish you have now: To have a hearty dinner followed by a hearty smoke.

P-Phobias: None.

Q-Quote (favorite): “Darr sabko lagta hai, G**** sabki phat-ti hai. Darr se mat daro. Us se Aage badho” : Self-modified line from some commercial.

R-Reasons to smile: Giving complete effort to something, being with family, being with friends, helping someone out.

S-Sleeping hours: 4:00 AM to 12:30 PM.

T-Time you woke up: 12:30 PM.

U-Unknown fact about you: I once ran a library in the garage back home.

V-Vegetable you hate: Karela.

W-Worst habit: Procrastination.

X-X-rays you’ve had: Once. On my left thumb. Quite surprising for someone who’s been injured so many times.

Y-Yummy foods: Biryani, Haleem or Tandoori chicken follwed by a Paan and a ciggy… aaah.

Z-Zodiac sign: Capricorn.

PS: Stomach crying ‘UNCLE!’. Gotta rush now.

Categories: Arbit, Myself, Tag Posts | 4 Comments

A live performance

They were doing this duet. She was lending her beautiful voice to his average guitar playing. It was a mismatch from the beginning. If the voice was that of an angel fairy, the guitar playing was that of a blacksmith. Perfect example of ‘The beauty and the beast’. But she, oblivious to the beauty she possessed in her throat, had paired off with him. And what was even worse, even trusted him fully to deliver a performance matching her own.

The performance started. Both of them faced the audience, and started with the first part. The crass cacophony of the guitar got partly covered by the sweet wafting vocals, and the audience burst into appreciation of the beauty of the music. The ‘Mukhada’ having got over, the ‘antara’ started. As had been decided earlier, they were to play this part looking at each other for a better effect on the audience (and also for the pleasure of his eyes). She was poised to sing, he was prepared to strum. She looked at him, he looked at her. She started singing, and he…

Forgot everything.

His fingers refused to move as she sang on. She looked at him with a questioning glint in those two black, bottomless pools she passed off as her eyes, and he just gazed at her perfect lips rendering words to the beautiful song, at the throbbing, pulsating veins at the bottom of her curvy throat. He was suddenly awestruck, both by the beauty of the voice and of the delicate features, every bit of him urging him to take in more of this elixir inside him through his eyes and his ears…so much so that he forgot that they were in a competition, that there were people around judging them, that he just could not stand there, drinking through his eyes when there was stuff to be done by his hands….

Needless to say, they made complete fools of themselves.

PS : This is a part of a larger story I’m working on. Do tell me how it reads.

PPS: My first try at anything remotely romantic. God help me!

Categories: Arbit | 7 Comments

Totally Arbit Post(tap) 1

I decided that there are certain happenings(read periods) in one’s life which lack specificity, yet need to be captured. I just can’t put today into any one category, but it was a great day just for the heck of it. 

          Had a chat with Karan and Daddu @ the coffee shop. I was actually a li’l bit peaved at the recent spate of ‘politics’ that’s being played in our batch over the’coveted’ post of felicity (Joint) co-ordinator(s).(Yeah, it wasn’t exactly very smart of Chand to use that word for the post in his mail). I was wondering with with this this kind of solidarity in the batch, whether or not we’ll be able to meet the sky-high standards for Felicity that our seniors have set.

          But after spending some time with Maroo and Daddu at the dabba, I was really relaxed. They’re really committed towards making our Felicity a grand success, and I know(in fact we all do) from experience that if these two guys get together with a whole year in front of them, then nothing can stop our batch from coming together, and if that happens, then even sky is just the beginning. We can look at a bigger budget, greater celebrations, better participation, higher ethics and most important of all, greater enjoyment for one and all; we only need to come together.

          It’s not very important, but  I had some ideas, very novel ones, and I discussed them over with the two guys. They were very excited with the ideas, and the results we can possibly generate from them. Naturally, I’m happy that my ideas have found resonance with others and this’ll push me to think and act further. I guess everybody has ideas of their own, so there won’t be any dearth of ideas; we only need to implement them.

Meanwhile, Atul got an electric guitar. He’d been saving up for it for a whole year now. And the support he had from our friends was awesome. Vatasal has almost given up his acoustic guitar to Atul. Harsh and Scientist chipped in with money for the guitar. Prabudh went with Atul to buy the guitar, and also lent him some. Not worth mentioning, but even a pauper like me has some of his money in that guitar. We had a pretty good time later in the night, with KT showing us its features, and also playing some of our favourites on it. The guys’s a great guitarist, has excellent sense of rock music, and is a good teacher as well. He’s promised us the use of his guiatr processor and and amplifier whenever they’re free. Needless  to say, We’re overwhelmed at this support our friends have given to us. I know everybody wants us to rock, and we promise we’ll play the guitars till our fingers bleed, and try our best to put up a good show every time we get to perform. And we will, for the whole college is with us.

          As I write these posts, I’m being introduced, thanks to Soni, to the Indian rock bands, Zero and Parikrama. They’re completely awesome. I really did not know our countrymen played rock so well. Parikrama is kinda fusion, but Zero is to-the-bone rock, and that, too awesome rock. I think I’m in for some great time with these bands.  Hope to find some more Indian rock. I even listened to the Insomnia songs. I think given some better recording facilities, they will sound great on their records, too.

          I sign off here after a gr8 day, at 4:AM in the night. I dunno whether I’ll be able to wake up for tomorrow’s 8:30 class, but honestly, I don’t care. When minds are free, everybody comes together with great ideas, and life starts rocking. I hope the faculty gets to understand that some day.

PS1: Happy B’day to Khatri :).

PS2: ‘Wings of Fire’ is an awesome book, but I’m kinda bored of (auto)biographies now. Can somebody get me ‘Hobbit’ issued from the lib? I lost two of it’s books already, they won’t give me any now:(

ps3: Sashi, plz have a shave. Saket, plz plz take a bath!

Categories: Arbit | 5 Comments


I’m lazy. If there’s any quality that I possess that others don’t, it’s my to-the-bone, hardcore, inherent and impregnable laziness. I’ve always been lazy; and in IIIT, the land of die-hard, spirited hard workers, I can easily beat anyone at a duel of laziness. Here are some recent instances of my laziness…

1. I didn’t wash my socks. For a whole month. And I kept on going out to play football in them and they got caked in mud. I still continued to wear them, because I was too lazy to wash them. Because of getting muddy, their ‘size’ increased and my shoe became increasingly uncomfortable to wear, due to which I had to put more stress on my knee due to which it got stress injured. Right now, i’m nursing the stress injury, and I still haven’t washed that old pair of socks yet.

2. I didn’t clean up/ tidy my room for two whole months. All my things are on the bed, and I’m too lazy to move them to their proper places. Further, if I move them to their proper places, I’ll have to go look for them in the morning, and again, I’m too lazy for that. So I just let my stuff accumulate on my bed. This has been going on for two months now, and now half my bed is covered with arbitrary articles. I can’t sleep properly on my bed, and I’m too lazy to clean up the clutter. So currently, I’m on the lookout for a decent, clean bed which I could sleep in in the night(or day). Anybody wanna volunteer …???

3. I haven’t accessed my mess calendar, ‘coz again, I’m too lazy to do that. I’ve been eating in any arbit mess for more than two months now, while the Yuktahar mess is benefitting from my lazy generosity, at the cost of the other messes.

4. Leave alone doing assignments, I don’t even copy and submit assignments these days, because…

5. My clothes are lying dirty on my bed, ‘coz I’m too lazy to give them to the dhobi.

6. I’ve been planning to write this post for more than two weeks, but only wrote it now, and then, too

7. This list is incomplete. I could go on and on, but you know….

PS1 : ‘Doorie’ by Atif Aslam is a good song, but doesn’t anybody thing that it could’ve been a lot better had Atif used some more guitar sounds in it?

PS2: The ‘Dot Theory’ won its first cash prize by coming 3rd in the group singing @ felicity’07. May there be a lot more. Amen.

PS3: Can somebody top my acts of honour? Put in your comments and we’ll have a vote.

Categories: Arbit, Myself | 2 Comments

A Crank Call

The boy went inside the phone cabin and sat down on the footstool. With shaking hands, he picked the receiver up. His palms were wet with perspiration. His teeth were clenched, and he’d grabbed the receiver like it was some catch he was holding on to for his school cricket team.

After days of shaking and oohing and aahing, he was finally going to call her.

Some inner voice told him to relax. He wasn’t going to let this call go waste like all the other calls, (when he’d drop the phone down in terror as soon as it got picked up). He took a deep breathe and relaxed his hold over the phone. He knew he wasn’t completely relaxed, but he had the assurance that he’d written down his lines really well. With his heart pounding against his chest, he dialled the now-all-too-familiar number.

‘Hello’, said a soft female voice. He knew it was her. His heart told him that. His heart was now ramming against his chest. For a moment he thought his rib cage was in danger.

‘Hello.’ He replied, his voice shaking, left hand fumbling for the piece of paper. There was an awkward pause. He read from his paper, and his confidence came back. ‘Is it Vandana?’

‘Yes,’ came the unsure reply… slightly hesitant. ‘Who is this…???’

Bingo! This was exactly as he’d thought would be, and written down on the paper.

‘You down know me, but I know you very well’. Pat came his own reply, with an almost audible smirk. This was cool! Things were going exactly as he’d anticipated.

‘Oh really? How’s that?’

Now he was jumping up and down. Man! what a genius he was. Those were the exact words he’d written down on the paper. Oh, what a coup!

‘Like…you know sachin?’

‘Sachin, who Sachin?’


‘Sachin, arre don’t you know Sachin Tendulkar?’


The word was like a 1500W imersion rod to his ears. What a dumbass this chic is. His euphoria suddenly evaporated. This wasn’t supposed to be so. Everybody knows Sachin. Oh, Well. Never mind. Everybody knows Shahrukh, too.

‘Strange. You don’t know Sachin. Well, what about Shahrukh?’

‘Who Shahrukh?’

‘C’mon. Shahrukh. Shahrukh Khan. Don’t tell me you don’t know Shahrukh Khan.’

‘Well, I have no idea who he is.’

He was flabbergasted. The chic was supposed to say that she knew Sharukh and then he’d ask her did Shahrukh know her, to which she was supposed to reply that he didn’t and he’d say Lo! You know Shahrukh but Sharukh doesn’t know you, in same way, you don’t know me, but I know you very well. That was what he’d written down in the paper. Everything that had started off so smoothly was in chaos now. 

‘Well, Amitabh, then. Amitabh Bachchan?’


He was really desperate now. ‘Hrithik! what about Hrithik? Hrithik Roshan? Dhoom part 2’


This was turnig out to be the worst conversation he’d had all his life.

‘Well then, whon do you know?’ he cried over the mouthpiece in desperation.

What came next was something he’d remember all his life.

‘GADHE! Mein TUJHE jaanti hoon. KHABARDAR jo aaj ke baad meri BETI ko phone kerne ki koshish ki toh!!!’


In a state of shock, he slowly replaced the receiver. He wanted to die now. 

Categories: Arbit, Short Stories | 14 Comments

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