Wednesday, August 28, 2013

On Being A Mechanical Engineer

If you did Engineering, you have to admit that the most awesome people in your college were from the Mechanical Engineering department. They would have been the main coordinators of most colleges fests and events. They would have scored with the girls in your department. They would have also been the only group of guys who went around telling people how awesome they and mechanical engineers are in general. One such mechanical engineer went on to be a movie director and he went on to talk about the greatness of being a mechanical engineer in his movies. In most of his movies, the lead character would have studied mechanical engineering (if he had any form of education that is). There is this dialog by Madhavan in one of his movies, which translates as, "A Mechancial Engineer should have a fire inside him". Lame as it may sound, some people had it as their phone's message tone in college. It was intended to remind them and everybody around them about the fire, mechanical engineers carry inside. A Mechanical Engineering degree is more like a degree in Narcissism than a degree in Engineering. So it might not come as a shock when I tell you that I did Mechanical Engineering myself. 

However, I was the least narcissistic of the bunch. In fact I don't have that many qualities that you might usually attribute to a mechanical engineer. There are many misconceptions people have about mechanical engineers, one of which being that all mechanical engineers are car crazy. When guys talk about cars, I understand what they are talking about, (I got an A grade in automobile engineering), but what I don't get, is why they are talking about it with such great passion. I never found cars fascinating. As a matter of fact even today I am car blind. I look at a car and I see its color. But I won't know its make or brand, till I look at the logo. When I was learning how to drive, the driving school had two cars - a Santro and an Indica. They had different instructors and I was assigned to the one who taught people how to drive in the Indica. Both cars were red which was very confusing to me. My instructor thought I was mentally disabled because I went and sat in the Santro for the entire first week. He was always worried that I would crash the car. When I got my license in my first attempt, he used me to inspire and boast to his students, "I taught a mentally challenged kid, how to drive." Just before I left India, he called me and asked me to speak to one of his weaker students, so that he can get some inspiration from me. Some day I might own a car, and if I ever get arrested for trying to get into the wrong car, I can at least turn to my driving instructor to produce a convincing plea for my innocence.

Sunday, May 5, 2013

Three Things That Suck About England

Diary Entry - 55

The best thing about living in England is the internet connection which lets you download gigabytes in less than half an hour. This would have taken a few months in India but even this is slow for the Dutch guy who lives in my flat. He is used to speeds faster than the time it takes to start his computers. Anyway this post was meant to be a post on what I liked about England and the internet speed sort of concluded everything I liked about this country. That’s quite a lot I know, so I thought I should write a short post on what I do not like about this country.

Size of The Burgers

When I went to McDonalds India with my dad he found the price (90Rs), outrageous for a single burger. Turns out that you can have a full course meal in a place like Saravana Bhavan for the same amount of money. But none the less a burger along with a coke and french fries was enough to leave me burping. Having a burger in McDonalds here in England is guaranteed to leave you more hungry. When I placed an order for a regular McChicken Burger meal they gave me a burger which was the size of a large Vada. I stared at the burger for quite sometime because I thought they were playing a april fools prank on me in March. They sadly weren’t and the £4.99 Pounds I paid for the meal give me a vague feeling that I was being ripped off. These kinds of things make me love India a lot more because that day I went home and liked McDonald India’s facebook page.

The Bathrooms
In most cold countries, you will find a cold valve and hot valve in your tap and you can turn it and set it to the right amounts to get the water at the right temperature. In the UK the two valves are on separate taps. One tap gives you boiling hot steaming water which will burn your fingers. The other tap is so cold, it freezes your hand. So if you want to wash your hands in England you have to burn and freeze your hands alternatively. The English have had this plumbing system for so long that it makes me think my history teacher was a cold liar for telling me that these smart people were once the most powerful nation in the world.  

The Weather
The weather is the other thing in the UK. You never see the sun. If you were a vampire you could walk in the day light without any fear of evaporating or glittering or whatever happens to vampires these days. It is always raining and trust me you will not be writing poems about how beautiful it is. Life becomes so painful when it drizzles. Breathing and walking becomes excruciating. I am not complaining though. The weather in Chennai is just the polar opposite. The sun is so hot there that I think god is trying to make us all into Sheesh Kebabs for his party. 

Monday, March 4, 2013

Fist Fights With The Sleep Demons

Diary Entry – 54

Every morning I fight a battle which I often tend to lose. Failing to win this battle will mean a lack of attendance. The victors of this battle however will see no glory. They will only find themselves slain in class by the boring lecturer. Coffee doesn’t give you invincibility against these villains. Expecting such powers will only make you want to file a lawsuit against Nescafe for misleading you.  

This battle is impossible to win, when there is a class at 9 Am. I find myself with the sleeper’s dilemma as I try to decide whether or not to go to class 10 minutes before the actual class.

“To go, or not to go? That is the question.”

I have tried various alarm tones to wake myself up from my slumber. I have used everything from barking dogs to Indian mantras. Nothing worked till one morning afternoon after missing a class, I did a Google Search, “I Can’t Wake Up.” When you have a problem, you should first tell it to Google. That is how I found this app for my phone called “I Cant Wake Up!” When your alarm goes off, the app asks you to perform a math test among other things before you can switch off your alarm or even press the snooze button. The math test requires you to multiply two pairs of two digit numbers together and add them up together. I can now perform speed mental math in my sleep. How I miss Chennai. The 8 Am power cut along with the scorching heat made sure that nobody over slept in the city. That is why you should vote for Jayalalitha.

Unlike India, you can’t get people to give you a proxy attendance in the UK. In the University I am in, there is a lady whose sole purpose in life is to stand in front of the class room, for the first 15 minutes, to get signatures from students for their attendance. If you miss your attendance, she just won’t mark you absent but will send you an email saying, “We don’t have your signature in the attendance sheet. What was the reason?”. Since I don’t like lying about being in class when I was not, I send her a neutral reply saying, “I failed to sign in the attendance because I woke up late.” She will reply saying, “Okay I will mark you as late but present. Please know that punctuality is as important as attendance.” My mother had it right when she said, I could never get into trouble if I am honest.

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

The Chick Who Stalked Me Because She Liked My Blog

Diary Entry – 53

The girl in the story will be referred to as a chick and not a girl because it annoys her greatly to be called that.

In December 2011, a Mallu chick happened to find my blog and ended up liking it so much that she read every single post that I ever wrote. But there would have been nothing unusual about her if she did not find me on facebook with nothing other than my blog to begin with.
It is impossible for you to know who I am because I have gone over the top about making myself anonymous in my blog. When I started my blog, the blog’s URL and my blogger user name had my real name in it. I was really narcissistic back in the old days but I quickly realized that the only way I could write about someone without getting death threats the next day, was to go anonymous. So I got a new domain, changed my user name and stopped publicizing my blog with friends. I also went on to delete the replies I had given to the thousand odd comments that I had received in my blog. I did this because the username that came up in my replies to comments had my real name. So if you really like my blog and intend to see the cute face behind all the glorious writing, it would be impossible. In fact I would like to  announce a contest. You can win an iPhone if you successfully stalk me and find what my real name is. People who already know me unfortunately cannot win an iPhone even though they do deserve to be congratulated for knowing me.

Anyway, this mallu chick who had done the impossible had sent me a friend request on facebook. When I receive friend’s requests from strangers, I don’t add or reject them (especially if they are from women). I just keep their request there because they increase my facebook follower count. Yes my life is quite sad. I have 29 facebook followers at the moment and I aspire to equal Zuckerberg who has a follower count of 17 million. But when my stalker friend sent me a friend's request, I added her because I thought it was my blogging pal who happened to have the same name. Also my stalker’s home town was Thrissur. Who doesn't like a Thrissur chick? We ended up speaking like we had known each other forever. At least I thought she was my blogging friend who I had been emailing for quite sometime. I don’t know what she was thinking.

After a few weeks of talking I found out that she was not the person who I thought she was, because the person I thought she was, was emailing me the exact same time I was talking to her. I felt like how my vegetarian friend felt when he had chicken thinking it was a potato. I was very angry and wanted an explanation but she played dumb and said she was sorry. I wanted to unfriend her then and there. But she was a Thrissur chick and that is what made me blind in the first place. My mother always wondered why I tell her I want to get married, every time I went to Guruvayur (a temple in Thrissur). It is because a Thrissur girl’s Malayalam can turn any Mallu guy on. If you think mallus are hot, chances are you are talking about a Thrissur chick. But my stalker was far from hot in her facebook pictures. The sad part about  stalkers is that they are never the super models that you want them to be. Anyway we didn’t want one of those pseudo internet friendships and decided to meet on 19th Febuary 2012. Boy did she live up to the name of a Thrissur chick. She was nothing like her pictures but what really made her hot must have been her Malayalam and her mallu English. She remembers anniversaries and sort of wished me happy anniversary today, for successfully knowing each other for a year. So I thought I would write this as a tribute to her and all my blog fans and followers who help keep my blog alive. If not for you, this blog will not exist. I was not the most regular of bloggers last year where my blog only saw 8 new posts. However only good things have come out of this blog and this year I decided to make a new years resolution to blog every Sunday. It’s almost two months now and I am still sticking with my resolution, though it has changed from posting every Sunday to posting every week. I am going to say the dharma (principle) of my resolution is up held and that is all that matters in the end.

Bloggers, go follow Talitha who gave me a blog award recently without knowing I treat them like how Amir Khan treats his awards. She is a member of the X-Men and her mutant ability is her power to read every single post of yours within 24 hours of  posting (assuming your blog posts are as awesome as mine).