19. PERFECT !!!

I’m all bubbly, filled with excitement; it’s my first train journey. Get into the wagon merrily with my buddies, we settle in a cool deck close to the “pantry car”. The train begins and we’re giving high-five’s and thumbs up’s to each other (literally :P) all in a jocund mood, no one except me notices a queer looking pantry staff man spying on us from a distance. He gets a stiff stare from me, nevertheless continues to look intently at us as if his life depended on it. I get back to having fun singing and dancing ignoring that fella. After sometime, I see that guy talking to someone. WAIT a minute, I know the guy he’s talking to, that’s Donnie there! I had seen him once in the supermarket, a friend of mine who was right next to me then had told me that Donnie was a funny guy and his blogs were quite good. What is Donnie doing talking to this fellow? I see Donnie giving the guy some money, something’s wrong here. The both of them come charging towards our group. In an attempt to begin a conversation, I say “Hi Donnie!”.

He doesn’t respond, on the contrary, grabs hold of my neck, pulls me out of the huddle and yells “PERFECT!!!”.

He drags me all along the pantry car holding my neck ever so tightly all along. Why is he doing this to me? I try to break free but he’s too powerful. I want to scream but I am all choked up, no words coming out of my mouth. Why isn’t anyone helping me? Can’t they hear my cries?

After we reach the end of the wagon, he relaxes his hold on my neck. I open my mouth to shout at him when, with a sudden jolt I feel drained. Begin feeling weak, am in a daze. Hear Donnie saying - “Life’s a bitch! Why can’t I get her out of my head? I want to move on but that’ll never happen! Why, because I am screwed, that’s why. Why can’t she like me like I like her?”

Saying all this to himself, he looks at me, and before I know it, I feel even more drained. Have no strength left to speak. What’s he doing to me? Never felt so weak and weightless all my life! Donnie grabs my neck tightly, screams “Fuck YOU !!” and pushes me off the train! Here I lie, wounded in the bushes along side the track.

Who am I ? I am your regular MIRINDA 500 ml Pet jar :)

18. Rape me ?

One of the very many senseless discussions among hostel-ites.

Me : Heard the song "Rape Me" by Nirvana.

Phani : Nopes

Me : Rape me....Rape me my friend...Rape me...Rape me again.........

Phani : wats the deal with rape and drape?

Me : Drape ????

Phani : Dint u sing - Rape me...Drape me my friend ....

Me : No, how weird is that. Ask your friend to rape and then drape you as well.

Phani : Yeah right, as if just asking your friend to rape you is totally normal.

Me : I never said that.

Phani : Go suck a lemon

Phani : Rape me again....who'd want to get raped again baap?

Me : Arent we getting raped. Each semster, a whole new set of professors, but the same old gang-rape.

Phani : Seriously baap, i am getting tired of all this.

Me : They should put up a sign outside colleges during counselling sessions : "Beware! Rape inevitable ! Be PREPARED !!! "

Phani : No wonder, why all of us have plans to be re-incarnated Phoolan Devi's and Deva's once we pass out.

16. Veteran Blogger

Was just wondering, how does one become a veteran blogger? What does it take to earn this prestigious title? ;) The other day, a friend of mine commented on my comment on a supposedly ‘veteran’ blogger. Does it have to do with the length of the time span for which one has been posting? Does it have to do with the number of posts one makes. Or does it have to do with the quality of the posts a chap/chapess (LOLZ , coined this just now) writes ? Or is it something unanimously agreed on, a dogmatic reality ?
The word veteran generally refers to the length of the posting time span, related to ‘experience’, but it doesn’t somehow fit in with blogging. Who is experienced and who isn’t ? how does one make this difference ?