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Stats Exam's Approaching

The demography of the readers of my blog reveals strange results.

Around 47% of my readers are from Serbia-Montgomery. Apparently, Serbs like goofy people in goofy costumes posing in goofy postures at goofy locations and they are a rage there.

A friend from Ukraine also called up to tell me that my blog was being advertised on National Television there. There are, apparently, secret anti-smoking messages in my blog. I didn’t know they were any.

Indians form a sizable 22%, Red Indians 2% and I can even claim to have a reader from Antarctica who contributes a whopping 0.16% to my readership.

Cypriots claim 6% of my readership and dear ol’ Americans make up 14.2%. The rear is brought about by Paki’s, Danes, Finns and Latvians.

To you all I say, Thank You.

Jang gone mad, really mad.

WARNING: None of this will make sense. This is for my memory. Don’t read further.

Rascal!

These last two days were horrible, tormenting, agonizing, ghastly, awful and terribly boring.

I, with my college compatriots, was asked to attend this anguishing program called “Vishwa- Chaitanya”. Now, there were people complaining about Satanic messages hidden in the program. I am not sure. I was too sleepy to notice anything significant.

There were a number of specimens of the most evolved category who spoke to us about various topics. And since I am not a sadist always, I shall not torment you too by rehearsing what we learnt, or at least what we were supposed to learn.

What was most tormenting of all was that we were not allowed to keep phones. What is generally a saving grace during boring lectures in college here were deprived from us poor, hapless souls.

And while we were there, we were taught the essence of erotic, ridiculous postures and the benefits of them to the human body. We also were given the chance to observe that candles have a transparent vacuum like thing in between, although we were expected to learn the power of concentration while this was happening.

The funniest character there was this Colonel dude. He was a gem, a person whom I’ll remember for at least some hours to come.

He was a dictator-lunatic-Pa , in the order to which he likened himself. This rascal of a person had the bile to dictate terms with our class kingpin, GK. I felt so very insulted. He also commended us stupid people for having taken up commerce, a subject which requires no thinking at all. We were flattered.

He also claims to have invented war simulators (LoSeR??) or something on the lines of that with the knowledge of trigonometry and without the knowledge of Calculus. A great contribution indeed to mankind. He loved speaking about “bombing the Paki’s”, and his tendency to bunk college. I loved him for his guts, and hated him for his guts.

As if all this was not enough, a frightening old lady, who would be celebrating her 216^th birthday this year, taught us how to concentrate better using the mind. Pa’s classes’ coaching paid off. I dozed with my eyes wide open.

The lady still gives me the creeps. Imagine driving on a state highway at night. It’s dark all around. And there’s no one in front, no one behind. Out of nowhere, an old lady draped in white appears right in the middle of the road. It was scary, especially when the highway was an auditorium and the room was completely dark.

I need a psychiatrist.

Of Fevers and Alibis!

I Am Back!

- Janginator!

Or rather, I was here all the time. Or so thinks my Principal who has just been bestowed with the prestigious job of collecting leave-letters. That, I am told, is his 626^th skill, and describing the other skills he is adept at would require me starting a new blog and hence I shall abstain from doing so.

Everyone had different opinions as to where I was. Closest was my neighbour who thought I had been (finally) locked up in Tihar Jail. Avin, a compatriot of mine thought that I had taken to frequent the M.G.Road benches at 2 in the night and hence, my absence in class. My class teacher and now even my Princi thinks poor little me was suffering from Typhoid.

But, well, I had been to a short vacation to a chilly place to just do what I do here all the time; sleep.

The only difference there was me discovering a few more facts about the novel art of sleeping. Here is a short excerpt for my upcoming thesis.

For one, you cant sleep in the Thar Desert with your eyes open. It’s too windy and sandy there, not to mention it being chilly. Sleeping in a Royal Palace is not bad unless you mind the predatory eyes of a throng of foreigners eyeing you like your some mysterious Baba from ancient India. Sleeping on roof tops is acceptable, if you love watching a million stars and don’t mind being frozen icicle the next morning.

(You can obtain my entire thesis by paying me M-o-n-e-y. Lots of it,)

Another question I have often been asked since I returned is how the chicks there were?

Well, just the same Madu Jain College kind of chicks, with a little more clothes on (summers, I assure you, would make me feel right at home there).

Since I have realized that I am just rambling about, I shall leave with just one pic of my tour, in funky attire and all. Chic!