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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in
Sidharth Kuruvila's LiveJournal:
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|Sunday, August 9th, 2009|
|The Princess and the Mirror
A long time ago in an age of mythology and mystical beings, there lived a princess who was the most beautiful princess of all the lands.
One day she was bathing with her handmaidens in a pond in the royal woods. An old man who was passing by spied upon her. He stepped up to the pond and said to the princess, "I am a great wizard, I have searched far and wide for the most beautiful creature in the world and I have found her in this pond. For this I shall grant you one wish".
This being a princess the old man was quickly put to death by the guards for seeing more of the princess than was permitted. But I digress.
The princess said "What a silly old man.", princess do not share the same concepts of mortality as the rest of of us, "Yes I am beautiful am I not, give me a mirror".
As she looked her reflection she was so taken by her own beauty that she said "I wish I could look at this mirror forever."
|Tuesday, May 12th, 2009|
|The Macalite Malady
Rani and I were getting bored after lunch, I was falling asleep, so she came up with this game of each of us writing one paragraph of a story alternatingly. We started off by trying to pull the story in our own directions, expect silly incomprehensibility.
A long time ago, in the outskirts of the town of Must. Lived an old crone, in a paper cottage. The cottage was made out of little origami swans that had sailed down a tiny drain from the town, from which the old crone would collect them. She made her living collecting peices of paper that floated down from the financial district which she used to blackmail local businessmen.
Ever since wall street crashed, the papers that floated down were mostly filled with doodles, and games of noughts and crosses. but what surprised her were the number of hangman games played. she wondered if this was a portent of things to come.
The colapsing of the wall had left a glut in the supply of prospective hangees. The delay was causing the prisons to fill up since capital punishment was the punishment for pretty much all the crimes except being rich. The dellay of in the construction was made worse by the fact that the principal contractor had landed himself on the death by commiting the crime of being insolvent. It was under these conditions that a letter floated by which would have an effect on the last few days of the old crones life.
"Dear Martha", the letter said, "I'm sorry for having taken out our life's savings to invest in the stock market. I know you're mad at me, and as I get ready to jump off the bridge into the Alyee (I couldnt locate the Thames), I thought I must tell you one last time I still love you. If you forgive me, come by the Alyee by 6 on the 12th". The crone was not Martha but the letter, she knew, had to reach Martha and she had only 2 days left to find her.
For she knew that the message was the signal, a signal for an act so daring that that to even mention it would send shockwaves across the town. The old crone had been approached for her services, and when she heard the plans she tried to disuade the participants, of whome her only surviving decendent, a grandson, was member. But in the end she came around, if only to prevent any harm to her grandson. It would be this need to protect her line which would lead to her own death in the end. She knew 'Martha' had to get the msessage in two hours.
She called Gabriel, her trusty crow. "Fly, fly, fly with the wind little bird, and do what you must". 200 years Gabriel had waited for these very words. With a caw, she rose, becoming larger as she got higher. soon she covered half the sky. People looked up, thinking it a portent of rain. Andrui was never the month for rain, but it rained all the time, so they just got on with their lives. Little did they know how their lives were to be changed forever, and soon. Just as suddenly, the skies cleared. Gabriel had not flown, and now she never would.
She, was a teleporting crow. She travelled by the power of the blink. The last of her species if interdimensional black hole crows. Gabriel, short for gabriella, had sworn fealty to the old crone after being saved from a tsunami, that had successfully killed all the other black hole crows. She blinked into the lair of Martha, a blurry man, with hairy arms and a face that looked like a misshapen lump of coal. It was Martha's plan that was being put in action.
Of course, the flaw in the plan (and Aak had foreseen it all along) was that Martha was a man. So while the world waited, and Gabriel was on her interD flight, Martha was watching TV, with a beer in hand. To give him credit, he had waited patiently the first 38 years of his watch, then figured nothing was happening. To give him more credit, he was the one who had conceptualized the master plan. Except Aak had other plans in mind.
The flaw was that martha would never pass of as a woman, and thus never be able to seduce the master of the gates. The gates which barred the road to Hjel the land of the many headed beasts lived, tiny creatures that with bad breath that would kill the apetite of a full grown man. And considering that Must was a town build on it's culinary genius, this would lay the town to ruin. The plan was to release these creatures, and whole town to ransom with the only substance that could drive away the beasts, the misterious element macalite. Martha had mined large quantities of the substance. Of course there was also the food mafia to worry about.
And now, Martha was hungry. No one knew it, but he had eaten most of the macalite in the time he waited for the final awakening of the gates. Of course, macalite was something he never ~should~ have eaten, which partially explained his too-hairy arms. But interestingly, he had really sweet-smelling breath, and Aak's idea all along had been to play on the gatemaster's fetish for pure breath. You couldnt blame him, the gatekeeper, he had never wanted this job and had been forced into after his father (the erstwhile king) had gambled away the kingdom.
Aak promised the gate keeeper all the macalite he could eat if he helped in the trapping of Martha and his gang. All the gate keeper had to do was act like he got seduced by the hairiest and possibly the most repulsive woman in the world. A challenge possibly but probably not too hard for the winner of best amateur lead in a romantic play for the last three consequitive years.
The gatekeeper waited for Martha, who never came. and just when it seemed history would go round in circles, he had a breakthrough. Gabriel had wrongly entered the x-y-z-pi coordinates, she had been so excited about the prophecy finally coming true. Of course, she had never met Martha and now as she materialized in front of the gatekeeper, she assumed ~him~ to be the One. "Hail Masteress (they had been taught to be politically correct)! It is I, Gabriella, Queen of the Black Hole Crows, and servant of the Old Crone and of Thee". "huh", thought Kid, but was smart enough to get there had been a mix up, and one to his advantage.
So he wrung the crow's neck and drank her breath, thus imbibing her transporting ability. He used this power to to transport himself to the store of the macalite. Upn reaching it he was shocked to realize that there was only a small bit left, in his rage he lashed out at old crone's grandson who had been standing in guard outside the Macalite store. Angry he grabbed the boy's body and transported himself into Aak's lair.
Aak was in a boardroom meeting. His detractors were mostly dead by now, thanks to his impeccable plans. With Martha out of the way too, his plans to take control of the mustard oil cartel would come to fruition. And then he truly would be the Godfather, the undisputed lord of the food mafia. Bread prices, broccoli sprigs, cantalloni...he could imagine the power he would wield and salivated. Just as he was about to open the presentation on 'Recession and its Impact on Digestion', there was a loud noise, like an uncomely belch and Kid stood before him.
Meanwhile the crone, telepathically connected to Gabriel, could now read the Gate Keeper's thoughts. She realized that her grandson was in danger. After making her perparation, she readied her self for a final confrontation with Aak and the gatekeeper. Using a vial of blood Gabriel had gifted her she teleported into Aak's boardroom.
Aak's scribe, a very efficient ostrich, was aghast that the agenda was not being followed. putting his quill aside, O stood up, raised his head to full height and ~hissed~ (he had many snake friends), "will u all PLEASE sit down, we have a meeting to finish before we move on to other business, else the MoM will suffer". These chilling words had the desired effect. it was the stuff of folklore that the MoM could never be tampered with, for it documented history. The Crone, Kid the Gatekeeper, the crone's grandson, and Aak all meekly sat down.
Of course the old crone was only waiting for her moment. As soon as Aak started his sonorous drone, She grabbed her grandson and flung him out of the boardroom. She took out the crossbow she had carried with her and fired a bolt right between Aak's eyes. The death of the speaker sent the MoM into disarray, causing the contents of the room, the Crone herself, The gatekeeper, Aak and the rest of his minions, to cease to exist.
in a moment, the crone's grandson had been forced to grow up. it was as if a thousand years had passed as he hit the ground. He picked himself up, now a Man. With no teleporting shortcut anymore, the Man started his long walk home. and the sun shone once again.
(Read like a buncha ten year olds innit.)
|Thursday, March 5th, 2009|
It was meant to be temporary, while he got settled in the city. Not more than two months he had told himself. That was two years ago and he as still there. He still remembered the day he was shown the place by the real estate agent. The shift from the sunny street, into the darkness of the room, the claustrophobia of the low ceiling. His first reaction as he entered the room was to gag on the mustiness. The agent had fumbled for a while before finding the light switch. Which gave him enough time to regain his composure, he had felt quite relieved that the man hadn't seen him retch. The room was quite small, with the entrance at one end, and a tiny bathroom cum toilet on the other. The ceiling was a few inches above his head. There were two ventilator holes on one wall, they appeared to have been blocked by some rag cloth. There was a small grey patch in one of the corners, which appeared to indicate a leak of some kind, the agent had assured him that it was due to the recent rains and would dry up in a few days, that would also explain the mustiness in the room. There was also a drain running along one of the walls, from the bathroom out from the front of the into a drain outside.
The patch in the corner of the room grew bigger to cover a quarter of the ceiling. The drain it turned out gave passage for rats to enter the room, so he had to keep his bathroom door locked at when he wasn't using it. In the beginning he had tried to get the landlord to do something about it, but after months of inaction on the landlord's part and his own intention to move out, he just decided to get used to it. Two years on the same job, two years staying in the same room. He had gotten comfortable in his own mindless routine. And he didn't spend much time in the room to care.
Things began to change when the company announced layoffs. The division he worked for was shut down and most of his colleagues, the friends he had, were forced to leave. The few that remained were shuffled out to different projects. He tried to keep in touch with them but he found them less interesting, they had their own problems, and he found them depressing, so he slowly disconnected himself from them. And he found himself suddenly alone. Coming home early, straight from office, he began to realize how dull the room was and started to take some comfort in how the dullness of the room paralleled his own life. He began to think perhaps for the first time, about how he'd lived his life and how things might have been different if his choices had been different. Or he would just lie down thinking of nothing at all.
Meanwhile things at work had taken a turn for the worse, he was put into a new team, and his stressed out new manager started to push the team towards goals that made little or no sense, in what appeared to be an attempt to protect the manager's own back. The new colleagues seemed less sociable and more interested in themselves, and he was happy to be left alone.
He came in late to work on that friday, to find the entire team huddled around one of the desks whispering to each other. The manager had been laid off the previous day. The telephone lines in the office had been disconnected. No one knew what was happening. One of his colleagues called the HR department and was been told that the client had gone bankrupt and the company had closed it's account, it was all very sudden. This was a temporary situation and the team would receive a mail on monday. The HR person refused to say what the mail would be about. Even though no one seemed keen on talking about the possible contents of the mail he could see they were pretty sure what it meant. There was a change in everyone's behavior, perhaps due to the lack of stress of work, or perhaps because of the resignation to the situation, there was an air of geniality. Since there wasn't anything to do someone suggested that they all step out for lunch.
At lunch he found himself sitting next to a pretty girl, he was surprised he never noticed her at the office before. She seemed to remember him from the orienteering day, and he confessed that he had been too worried about wether he'd still be there the next day to remember anything, a statement which she seemed to find amusing. They found they had a common interest in movies. And spent the rest of the day talking about them. In the evening he asked her if maybe she would like to go to the cinema and may be get some dinner. She agreed. After the day was over, they got onto his bike, and headed to a bar nearby. After a couple of drinks and what he fell was the best conversation he had in a while. On the way to the theater though it started to rain, quite heavily. They were soon quite drenched, he could feel the her clinging on to him from the cold. And that made him feel happy. In the end he had to drop her home, but she said she would call him soon.
As he rode home that evening he felt the happiest he had in months. He could feel the silly grin on his face, and that only made him feel better.
It was the sight of his room when he got there that pulled him back to reality. He suddenly knew what was going to happen on monday, and he wasn't certain he could face it. He lay down and stared at the stain which appeared to have grown a lot bigger, and he started to grow less confident about his future.
He woke up the next day sweating and shivering, he couldn't remember what he dreamt that night, he never could, but he knew it was something unpleasant. The phone was ringing. It was on the small table a few feet away from his mattress. He couldn't see who was calling, and he couldn't get himself to pick up the phone. What if it was from the office, telling him he was fired, or what if it was from the girl, her had name already slipped from his mind, he was in no state to face her. He just waited counting the number of times it rang. When it stopped ringing he closed his eyes. He couldn't stop thinking about monday, and the girl, and the stain. But he was terrified. He thought he should call the girl but he couldn't, not in the state he was in. So he waited, hoping for his nerves to calm down. He was startled when the phone rang again and he chose to ignore it. The phone rang twenty more times over the next few hours but he was too afraid do pick it up. And when it stopped ringing, he didn't know if the caller had given up on him or the phone's battery had died. But after a while he felt relieved that it had stopped ringing. The stress had taken its toll and he felt very tired. He slowly fell into sleep.
When he woke up next, he felt strangely relieved, his fear had disappeared over the night. The stain had grown bigger, it now covered almost the entire ceiling and one part of one of the walls. He lazily wondered if he should do something about it. He slowly remembered that he hadn't eaten or drunk anything in a while. There wasn't anything in the house, and the only water was from the tap near the latrine. He just stared at the stain, as it appeared to grow bigger before his eyes. Falling asleep and waking up no longer aware of now long he'd been lying there. The stain had already covered all the walls. Thirsty and hungry he started longing for it to reach him. Waiting to taste the cold water it would bring with it.
It was then that he heard the sound of the rats in the drain, at that moment he realized he hadn't locked the bathroom door.
|Friday, February 13th, 2009|
|A meaning of life
When a child is young, it thinks it is the center of the world. Then it grows older and learns about the world around it, a world of great and infinite potential and wonderful opportunities. As it grows into adulthood it learns, much to it's dismay, that it isn't at the center of the universe. It still has it's hopes and dreams. But soon even those are lost as it hits the ceiling of it's own abilities and faces the limitation of time. But even that isn't the worst thing it loses. It loses it individuality as it realizes that everyone else is exactly the same. Suddenly it isn't special or different in any way, and that is the worst thing.
|Thursday, February 12th, 2009|
|Friday, January 30th, 2009|
|1 2 3 4
What can I say I'm going through a pop phase.
|Thursday, October 30th, 2008|
|Tuesday, October 28th, 2008|
Eddie realized that things weren't working out. He was undead, while she was, well, not quite.
|Wednesday, August 27th, 2008|
|Tuesday, June 17th, 2008|
Shyamlal was the village idiot. Not too bright, and always getting into trouble. He also had a defect. Shyamlal's mouth wouldn't open, it was like his jaw was locked shut, and he could not speak. He was easily excitable, and all he could do was make loud grunting noises. This was something that had led him to be picked upon. Children threw stones at him as he rode his rickety bicycle just to watch him stumble off it and chase them screeching. Even the grown men, at times, would relieve their frustrations on him.
The years passed and Shyamlal still weathered his beating. It would appear though, that he would soon have his revenge.
The village sarpanch's ten-year-old son stopped eating one day, he even stopped talking. His mother in panic tried forcing his mouth open to feed him but it refused to budge. When the father came home he tried talking to his son and when that failed, he whipped the boy for an hour, but that didn't work either. The doctor was called in, and he informed the father that it appeared the boy's jaw was locked. These things tend to go away in a few days, and to feed the child a liquid diet till then.
Soon more boys caught the affliction, including the doctor's own son. And it refused to go away. All the boys who caught it, and it seemed to be every child around the age of ten, stayed that way. It was obviously Shyamlal's fault; he was beaten up and locked up in a shed at the edge of the village.
The villagers, realizing that the doctor was worse than useless in the current circumstances, decided to seek the help of a famous tantrik. The doctor, who imagined himself to be of a rationalist bent, tried to feebly disagree. But having lost his own son to the strange affliction, he was willing to try anything. The tantrik was able to work out that this was a curse of some sort. The only solution would be to force Shyamlal to revoke it. The tantrik would return to the village the next full moon, when a ceremony would be performed to purge the curse.
That evening the sarpanch and a few other villagers met to discuss what should be done. The ceremony would cost the village dearly, but they had no choice. It was also decided that the only way to guarantee that this didn't happen again was to kill Shyamlal as soon as the children were cured.
On the eve of the ceremony a group of villagers including the sarpanch and the doctor went to the shed to bring Shyamlal to the tantrik. When they reached the shed they noticed that the door was open; someone had unlocked the door and let Shyamlal escape. They rushed back to the tantrik and told him what had happened. He told them not to worry. Shyamlal was obviously powerful in the ways of magic. But since he had run away his powers over the villagers would be reduced. The ceremony would still have to be performed and it would be the responsibility of the villagers to make sure Shyamlal never set foot in the village again. The tantrik performed the ceremony and was never heard of again. But the children were not cured. In fact, more children were catching Shyamlal's disease.
The case got so interesting that a doctor from the city came to investigate. He called on the village doctor. He had heard of a similar disease before, where the jawbone of the victim fused with the skull making it impossible to move. The problem was that that disease was a genetic disorder, passed on by the paternal side. The village doctor was silent for a while before bursting into a fit of giggles, which refused to stop. The visiting doctor, angry by this display, tried to get him to stop. Try as he might the village doctor couldn't stop himself. All he could get out of his mouth was
Thanks Gigi, for the spelling, punctuation and minor grammatical fixes.
|Friday, May 30th, 2008|
"What do you like about me?"She:
"Oh come on that is a silly question."He:
"If I had to chose one thing it would be your nose"He:
"You of all people. How could you say that. You don't know what it's like to have a nose like this. It is the only thing people seem to notice."She:
giggles "Well it is a very big nose. You know who you remind me of, that character in Tintin , Rastapapoose?"He:
"Rastapopulous, you don't think you're the first person to think of that do you."She:
"It is a cute name."He:
"Not if you are called that every day of your adolescent life, that and Big Nose, Elephant-man or be compared with a probiscus monkey. When people want to hurt me they only seem to pick on my nose."She:
"That's probably because they can't think of anything else. If you hate your nose so much, why don't you get some plastic surgery."He:
"I did, even saved up some money for it. But I was afraid I'd end up looking like Michael Jackson or something."She:
"Yeah, what about Michael Jackson, no one talks about his nose."He:
"That's because he doesn't have a nose. If his was as big as mine that is only people would talk about."She:
"Maybe he should get a big prosthetic nose, would save him from the all that attention he's getting."He:
"That is true."She:
"I'd leave you if you changed that nose of yours you know, I love you the way you are."She:
Leans over and kisses his nose.He:
|Tuesday, April 29th, 2008|
|Friday, December 14th, 2007|
|Flight of the Conchords
This is a clip from Flight of the Conchord's HBO show by the same name. I'd love to get my hands on the DVD.
|Thursday, September 20th, 2007|
|Friday, September 14th, 2007|
Anyone know where I can get a macbook with some serious water damage reparied?
|Thursday, June 28th, 2007|
|Monday, June 25th, 2007|
Getting to the heart of the problem
|Friday, June 22nd, 2007|
|Thursday, June 21st, 2007|
Wait long enough and the world will end.
|Saturday, April 7th, 2007|
I have nothing interesting to say, and I don't think anyone wants to listen anyway.
This is not an end to blogging, just my habit of putting forward weird possibly unhealthy points view that tend to irritate rather than enlighten. I realize it comes across as nonsense.
This also doesn't mean that I am going to stop expressing my opinion. Just that I will limit it to where there is a direct benefit, like work.
This might take some effort so feel free to slap me when I start arguing. I'd also like to apologize to anyone who's feelings I might have hurt.