LTGTR is a youth magazine aimed at providing good solid content written primarily by students and young professionals on a diverse and relevant range of topics, and presented in a simple and humorous manner. Unlike other magazines LTGTR provides a refreshing blend of high quality literature and

socially relevant articles which are blatantly honest. The content is neither journalistic nor bookish; rather you shall find it invigorating and stimulating in an otherwise monotonous world. We don’t just present facts; we provide opinions and let you choose the ones you like.

LTGTR is “not” a campus magazine. It transcends beyond the boundaries of our college and delves into the psyche of Indian youth. It is an endeavor to provide a common ground for people to express their own ideas and opinions. It is an opportunity for people like me and you to find like other minded individuals in a world where even Facebook and Twitter haven’t been able to reduce our loneliness. Finally it is an attempt to bring back a culture of reading and writing and prove to you that these things are for the masses and not just for the elite.

In a trigger-happy world, in an age where the media is known to sensationalize everything, in a culture where “making money” is the only truth, LTGTR is an attempt to bring real journalism and writing. It draws on the ideas of the French revolution “Liberte, Egalite, Fraternite” and combines it with inspiration from young revolutionaries who used writing as a way to mobilize the masses. In a world where broken hearts, unfulfilled expectations and death form a major chunk of our thoughts, LTGTR is at attempt to break away and find meaning in life.

So I can go ahead and without any regrets state, LTGTR is a not just a magazine, it is a movement of the people. It is a revolution, of sorts, aimed at bringing out the rebels in us, getting them to ask the right questions and find the right answers.

Finally it is meant to keep you happy and entertain you. It is meant to keep the good times rolling.

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As we sit and write this out, we have no choice but to ponder over the future of this magazine. There are still unanswered questions, especially about its success, the content and a few finer details. For this issue, there is no choice but to take the plunge.

From now on, it shall be about swimming; both with the flow and against the current. The first issue is always exciting. The beginning is a trap, the end is hazy and everything that’s in between is there just to make sure you go back to where you started.

Speculation never did any good to anyone. For us, it’s just about making this magazine a success. In fact, the title wasn’t even decided until the very end and it could still be open to debate. Since we are all here, it might just be the right thing to do; look ahead and keep going. And what’s more, from being a half, we were reduced to a third, but a lot of us are really happy about that!

Among the many questions that were asked or that should have been asked about this magazine was the one about its objective. Why are we doing this? Well, for those of you who have read this far into the editorial, it’s because we can do it and more than that because we can. Let’s just forget about the part where we need to do it.

What if this magazine is not appreciated? Well, nobody can answer that, but someone we all know would say, “There, there”. Despite all the pessimism, we have the confidence. Why?

“Ideas are bulletproof”.

With due sincerity, best regards,

and a hopeful outlook,

The Editorial Board,

On.The.Rocks.

Hello! The jobless are back again. It’s about time too, I guess. Anyway this time’s issue was really challenging. The team met up (and it’s more than just a bunch of friends now!) in the mess to decide on the general structure of this issue about 2 weeks ago and courtesy Sahil, some good arguments

and some even better dictatorship, the theme is ‘The Seven Sins’. *Drum roll and background music*. We have tried to rally the content of the issue around this central theme, the design and the choice of articles makes this self evident. It certainly wasn’t easy to pull off, it was the toughest issue till date and because of that I now have a new found respect for the seven sins. But challenging is good, it means we’re able to stretch the limits of our work spheres and I hope that your comments, suggestions and contributions will make LTGTR only more exciting.

A regular reader of LTGTR is in for some surprises this time. First we have two new columns. I have wanted to publish a book review for some time now, and at last LTGTR has its first book review “To Kill A Mocking Bird”. This classic by Harper Lee is already a well documented book, however it was perfect for the present issue-a look into the pride in human nature-and it doesn’t really hurt to refresh our memories does it? Next we have a column that gives a character sketch of pop literature characters. Literature buffs should really watch out for these columns as the writer handling these columns, I assure you, will keep dishing out really quality reviews. The biggest surprise will however be our collaboration with OTR (On The Rocks)- the editorial board of BPHC ( BITS Pilani Hyderabad Campus). The collaboration was forged on the request of OTR. We have provided them with space to publish some of their works in this issue. Among the OTR articles I would personally suggest ‘Atlas Shrugged’ and ‘Wrath’. The first. a modern take on Greek mythology, the second ‘Wrath’ is an excellent piece of writing in which the author delves into the human psyche to understand wrath.

But now back to LTGTR. We have a comic description of college life in which the author tries to depict the sloth that he is. We have more (dry) humor in a well written article ‘What’s In a Number’ the author argues about why she relates so deeply to the number 3 (p.s. Douglas Adams fans are going to love the ending of this one. I would also like to mention the freewheeling verse the ‘8th sin’ which redefines our idea of sin.

And before I sign off, as always watch out for the Jobless column (You shall laugh you’re a***s off ), ‘Best of FB’ etc . Happy reading, please do join our Facebook page and send in your suggestions. Your support and feedback will drive us to perfection, if there is such a thing as perfection.

3. Why not seven, when seven was such an amazing movie, or 23, where Jim Carrey played a role outside his so called genre, or

5 for that, supposedly my luckiest number according to tickle.com ( yes , I took that quiz. Yes, I was that bored). Perhaps, 6 or 5, which feature in my birth date, or 9 or 11, for obvious reasons. But no, I picked 3. Not because my batch is the third batch of BPHC. No, it isn’t that lame a reason. Rather, it’s because sometimes numbers, like songs hold memories. Sometimes, like words they carry meaning. And three was the first number to pop into my head. It’s frustrating how you can get obsessed with a number, and find symmetry in everyday life corresponding (concurring) to it.

So, one fine day, I became obsessed with the number three. Probably because it was three of us, best friends in school or maybe because it was on the terrace, that I began to think about this number, which was on the third floor of my apartment complex. So that day I saw three crows, three cows walking down the road, three dogs chasing each other….was nature sending signals? No, I don’t believe in things like that. And so it went on. It was then that I realized that sometimes things we define, have meaning deeper than we intended. You seem to feel a connection, and seem to have a reason to believe that you are meant to dig deeper, strengthen the connection and delve into the so-called non-existent.

Did I feel a connection with the number 3? Was it similar to how some musicians get obsessed with certain notes or ragas.

I started thinking about things, like these and questions began to take shape in my mind about

well, life the universe and everything. Why is there symmetry in nature, why did we find the need to introduce numbers, why couldn’t they just be a string of letters put together as a word, why zero, why one, why three? Why the connection, the so-called depth, the need to understand? Why three?

And then I began to realize that things don’t have deeper meaning by themselves. They are defined by our emotions, memories and thoughts. We can choose how deep we want to delve into our conception.

So there I was, I didn’t have any special connection to the number three on that particular day because god or nature or some form of divine energy wanted me to. It was because I wanted to. It was the first number that came to my head and in the process of trying to figure out why, I established the so-called connection.

So why three now? Because I connect it to the memory of my first real “thinking” experience. It could’ve been connected to the color of the sky or the song playing on my mp3 player, but I choose to relate it to the number three. Because I liked the idea. Because if someone asked why, I had a story to tell and hence another memory to cherish.

Now you could think what I just said is a whole load crap. Now let me come up with a convincing argument instead, I chose three because it is the number between 4 and 2. 42 is the answer to all the questions about life right?*

*It’s amazing how Douglas Adams and Hitchhiker’s comes to my rescue everytime in my attempt to as convincing as possible.

My, preciousss.... they can not take it away...

Often heard, often repeated, albeit in forms as varied and multitudinous as the facets of an uncut diamond, this echoes overriding human sentiment, for ever since the sapien, having quantified light and darkness, brought forth the concepts of morality, of good and that of evil.

In the times when the clergy held the seven cardinal sins, pride, lust, greed, gluttony, envy, sloth and wrath as “grave violations of the Ten Commandments and the Beatitudes”, (here I rip from Times online, who rips from the clergy. You'll see that plagiarism is not on the list. Never was.) condemning and abstaining from the seven sins was the only way to avoid the eternal damnation of one’s soul.

This issue is a revival of those ideas, and even as we wrote away, about pride (Book review:To kill a mockingbird), and greed (No one can eat just one), and gluttony (character sketch: Dudley Dursley), we realised how little they’re applicable today. In a time and world where vendetta is glorified, lust is the central theme for almost every bestseller, gluttony is rewarded by the producers, pride is of essence, and sloth plain rules, we, the eternally damned (have faith, pray, seek the light) seek to come up with a new set of moral code, something that is not out of context.

Look around yourself. Today’s sins would not be that which is condemned by the clergy, the government, or by any single body of power. In today’s age, where the individual’s ‘right to expression’ has been elevated to a level never heard of before (true, considering that then nobody could speak), a sin would be that act, that is collectively condemned by society.

Some collectives of this sort would have to include the following. (Mind you, this is not a list of absolutes, only a list of probables, at best. The best way to resolve this would be to try it out yourself.)

Terrorism.

One of society’s modern banes, the ugly side of modern revolt that shall not stop at anything to get

what it wants, resulting in loss of life, property and loved ones for countless people across the globe, if there are to be sins, this has to be on top.

Summary: Condemned by one and all. This is a bad thing. See photos of the candle march against the Bombay attacks for more. Shed a tear, would you?

Murder.

Defined as homicide, the premeditated slaying of an individual, as opposed to terrorism, which is genocide. Since we have hardly any kings at all, regicide is on its way out. Murder, brutal, deadly, may have been glorified, and glamorized, but that does not detract in the least from the fact that it is an irreparable stain on mankind, for which animal would wantonly slay its own brother?

Summary: This is probably what society will collectively stand against, for, as we all know, all life is precious.

Infidelity.

Failure at man’s attempt at monogamy is a stark (pun intended) problem that confronts all of today’s monogamous society. Carnal passions are not bad, says today’s society, only keep it at home. With infidelity rates rising at a rate that would make a v****a dealer (6 letter word, not a pimp) very, very happy, it may be sooner than we think that society may just decide to let this one drop. But, for now, its bad. Very, very bad.

Summary: as Barney says...Love thy neighbour, but never LOVE thy neighbour. Do not try this at home.

Racism.

Man classified plants, he classified animals, the stars, the soils, the birds, the bees, emotions, textures, tastes, and movie genres. Having done this, (and not being satisfied), he then went on to (big mistake), classify himself, based on whatever physical & ethnic disparity he could find. Caste, social class, race, you name it, we humans have it. Discrimination has been forever one of the most blatant cause of strife in the past, and still is. Peace, bros.

Summary: Go on, blame it on God, you know you want to.

Hypocrisy.

You say one thing, you mean another. Your personality changes with the type of company you keep, you may be a solid smoker in one, and an I-hate-smoking-it-kills-your-lungs guy (or girl, gal, if you prefer it) in another, then this is your kinda thing. Hypocrisy, in many ways, defines modern schools of thought and action, but beware, it is also the cause of most misunderstandings. Be warned.

Summary: Are you vegetarian? Then you know what I’m talking about.

Drugs.

No, not cough syrup. Drugs, and drug peddling, are rampant in most demographies throughout the world, and are a major source of concern to all the non-high people in the world. As said by adults, drugs are only a temporary escape, you don’t need to do drugs to lead a good life. Also said by adults, drugs kill your neurons, cause muscle degeneration, induced cardiomyopathy, impair your judgement, and do many other bad things. So... so what exactly?

Summary: Ah, yes. Right, right. Er, what, exactly?

Chauvinism.

Is the opposite of chivalry. It is primarily heterosexual objectification and derision directed towards the

same. Didn’t get that? Its probably all for the best. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t do it.

Summary: It has come to light that there are also female chauvinist pigs. Kudos.

This probably sums up the demography's opinion, and shalt hereby be known as ‘The sins.’ So, my love, please don’t slay, maim, sleep with, degrade, or tell lies to other people. Apparently, they don’t like it.

PS. I’m a vegetarian myself.

On a side note, I’m still jobless, so

7 other sins:

Facebook quizzing: Which sin are you?

Please, go slay yourself, or achieve autocoitus.

Getting Caught for Sharing P***

E.D.O.C.S.I.L.R.U.L.E.Z. \m/ :P :D :D

Lolcat backlash

:p :D :D and \m/ is not the answer to everything. Try a full stop instead.

Chetan Bhagat & Arundhati Roy.

No explations asked for, none given.

Wearing Pink.

This is selective. Its just not meant for some people.

Homophilia.

Have some consideration for the USA.

Wasting potatoes.

You have no right to live, you despicable, cretinous, vile, blubbering piece of bilge.

I snuggled against my pillow, pulled the blanket over my head and lost myself in deep slumber. The book I had chosen to keep me company

this rainy afternoon “Aunts are not Gentlemen” lay forgotten, discarded on a pile of dirty cloths. The general disarray in my room added to the aesthetics of the scene. That reminded me, my mom fondly called my room the little pandemonium created by her sloth of a son. That pretty much summarized my lifestyle when left to fend for myself.

Well anyway there I was sleeping the afternoon away, when a ‘little’ kick on my door startled me. “By God! Which SOB decided to grace me with his presence today…?”, I thought, as I dragged myself to the door , opened it and got back into bed with the expression of a dead goldfish on my face. My friend used to my beautiful expression, walked into my room and made himself comfortable ( which included some crappy song, god forbid if I ever meet the singer I will strangle her) and then began our chattering, well, more of a one sided conversation with me replying in monosyllables ( the art of talking when half asleep had escaped my grasp). It seemed like eternity before we reached the grand climax, okay, that is kind of heavy for a set of lines we seemed to exchange at the end of every such encounter, which went:

“Dude I’m hungry. Do you have food?”

I shook my head.

“Dude, shit!! Lets go to the restaurant, I’m dying of hunger here.”

This was followed by a cascade of phone calls, which eventually resulted in five or six, numb nuts like me starting a noisy procession through the campus to the restaurant ( I use the word ‘restaurant’ for the lack of words. The place was anything but that.).

Now the food took forever to actually materialize on our plates, so the act of consuming the rubber roties and half cooked curries was preceded and punctuated by random gossip, a really nice way to kill two hours. After the whole exercise of eating I eventually made it back to my room, fattened, content and ready for another sleepless night. One would like to assume that this nocturnal creature would utilize this time of relative calm in the surroundings to get some work done and study but I’d like to point out that this hypothesis is severally flawed, for one thing the hostel is anything but calm in the night, secondly at this point of time exams haven’t really started biting at my tender backside. So the urge to study hasn’t yet bloomed in the interiors of my cranium. Thus until realization dawns upon me a day after the exams, let’s just sit back and watch what’s up in the life of my dear friend from Princeton, Dr.House.

The sun began to set over the horizon at what seemed like a hundred miles away. The road he was walking on was smooth,

in fact one of the smoothest that he had ever seen over his years of driving, traveling, trucking and hitchhiking. It was grey as roads normally are with the ubiquitous white dividing line in between, which led him to think of all the marvels of modern engineering, in the form of cars and motor vehicles that would have traversed this very path. There was a crack on the dividing line and it stood out being the blood red in color that it was. He thought of the accident and the bloodbath that had occurred there a year and two months ago. Vague images of the catastrophe flashed before his eyes.

He remembered sitting at the wheel in a daze. The LSD was just kicking in, though he had swallowed it a couple of hours ago. He thought of the woman who drove him to the drug in the first place. ‘The bitch...’ he began but only to be cut off by the blinding flash of a fog lamp on an incoming car. There was a loud honk; two actually, one from the car that just crossed him and another one from behind. The coincident sounds confused his rather unresponsive nervous system at the time and it took him a couple of seconds to steady the truck. Despite all the

years of driving the same truck, he still could not comprehend the motive behind choosing an oil tanker. It happened on a whim and he knew that but, as a child he was raised to question every aspect of his life; beneficial, adversarial or merely indifferent. The oil tanker was supposedly the hardest type of truck to drive and the community of truckers within his small county town were always worrying and discussing about his driving skill and his ability to handle a vehicle of that size and power.

He looked ahead at the road, which was illuminated by the lights of his truck. It took a turn to the right, gracefully like all roads ought to be, instead of the more common sharp curve. He relaxed his grip on the wheel and let it turn a bit to the right. The road narrowed from two lanes to one and the divider, which was merely a line to begin with, vanished. He was never comfortable with narrow roads, especially while driving during the middle of the night. Moreover, the road was rather bumpy, with a couple of ditches at intervals of a hundred odd meters. He tried to control the truck as best as he possibly could but it was still too fast for a road in that condition.

He would remember the next stretch of the road for the rest of his life.

A speck of light fell on the mountain next to him and a car came hooting out from the right swerving its way onto the lane. The sudden appearance startled him and he seemed to come to his senses but there was nothing much to do apart from hold the wheel and control the brakes. His eyes were heavy and they were almost closed. What he didn’t notice was the car behind. It was rather small but was fully occupied. There wasn’t much time to react and he couldn’t have even if there were.

He stepped on a small pebble and it caught his attention. “The little things in life”, he thought and he picked it up. He tried to remember as much as he possibly could but all he could recall was a crunching sound, a blaring horn and the world turning upside down. The weeks after the accident were a daze and he could hardly comprehend anything going on. It took him several months to piece together the events that happened and those before that led to it.

The road he was on led onto the side of another

mountain, this one facing the sea over a rocky cliff. He walked, or limped as he occasionally had to. The salty air filled his lungs and he knew the time had come. He tried to introspect, to find that last speck of hope in his life and then realized there was nothing.

He didn’t have a future as a trucker, not that there was anything to begin with, due to his increased drinking. His wife was a solemn and heartless whore as the neighbors colorfully explained to him. Climbing over the ledge, he wished the same fate that was waiting for him at the bottom of the cliff to everyone he ever knew, especially his wife.

Wrath is probably the most complex of the seven deadly sins to comprehend. There is a thin line between envy and wrath, which on most occasions is rather difficult to find. However, the ultimate form of wrath is suicide; when all you can do is blame yourself for everything and inflict upon yourself the ultimate punishment.

1. Listening to Justin Biber.2. Making inside jokes during a conversation.3. Wearing tight pants.4. Clicking pics of random girls and posting them on facebook.5. Long hair, black nail polish, piercings & listening to death metal (all this doesn’t make you cool)6. Having hope where there is none.7. bragging about watching ****

Employee

8.45 pm ....hmm...15 minutes before the ‘big’ man left the office. Yes... I mean the President himself, the puppet master in this pathetic excuse of a workplace. Don’t get me wrong, being the Head of Marketing of a huge company does have its perks. But still...all I could dream of in my inebriated state was having his life! Now, the Boss was one man who definitely had it good. Look at him...He had everything!! Loads of money, good looks, that adds to the glam! His social groups included the rich and mighty. He partied with the new Governor, a personal friend of his. He had a beautiful beach house. He was married to one of the most beautiful women in the world. Rumors had it that he was even going at it with the wife one of the vice-presidents of the company( The wife of the head of Logistics, I hear)

And yet....it seemed unfair. Why was he the Boss and not me? I remember twenty years ago, we were good friends; teenagers with a big dream. A vision, that one day, we would make it big in the world. And by God, did we manage it! But here’s the problem. Everyone knows that I’ve always been the smarter one. Everyone, including him, knows that it was my brains that got the two of us to the top. And yet, for some inexplicable reason, he was the Boss, and not me. I, on the other hand, was made to watch as he soared in the financial circles. I was rich as well, no doubt about that, but just not as rich as him! While he was going around with a multitude of gorgeous women, I had to go home late every night to my pregnant wife ( who, for some reason, just didn’t seem to want me around any longer)

Why?

What had he done that I hadn’t??

And in one fell swoop, I made a decision. Enough was enough. For too long had I been the man in the background; and I was sick of it. Perhaps it was the whisky that was doing this to me. Yet somehow, in that haze of alcohol, things seemed crystal clear to me. It was time to take matters into my own hands. Everything that he had rightfully belonged to me. And now was my chance to take it back.

Except for the two of us, the office was deserted. I opened my drawer and took out my prized possession. Yes, there it was…a .45 Walther pistol. That really did bring back memories. It had originally been part of a set of two. And guess who had the other one? Yes, twenty years ago, when we were still the best of friends, the Boss and I had decided to pick up the set. As a token of our…well, brotherly love for each other. But why

go there? All that was important to me at the time was the fact that it was loaded.

I slowly made my way to his office. Everything seemed to happen so slow, and yet inexplicably , everything was a blur. Everything else seemed pointless to me. All I knew was that I wanted blood. His blood.

I walked into his office. He was sitting right there at his desk, staring into space. I called out to him. He looked up, and in his eyes I saw something strange…resentment. Odd! But I had more important things to take care about. I raised the gun, and kept pulling the trigger.

By God, it was loud!! And surprisingly painful…I looked down, and watched the blood spurt out of my chest…. This was not going to be fun.

Boss

Why him? Of all the women in the world , why did it have to be the wife of the man who brought me to the top? The man, who as a boy, and shared a dream with me. A dream to make it big.

Everything had been going fine till last year. True, I had been overworking him, but for a reason. Having mingled with all the right people, I knew some things that most others didn’t. The state needed a new Governor, and They had asked me for a suggestion. And I had given his name. Sadly, to make him seem like a viable candidate, he had to be tested. He had to prove that he could take the pressure. He couldn’t.

And then, as he turned to alcohol, I tried to help him. I went to his wife to see what we could do about him. Oh God!! Everything went so wrong then…I couldn’t control myself. She was a beautiful woman, in an unhappy marriage. They had been trying to have a child for a year, and it wasn’t going so well. She was vulnerable, and I …like a fool, unwittingly took advantage of that…

When she told me she was pregnant, everything became clear to me. I wanted the life he had. It didn’t seem fair. I was the richer one obviously, but it was his wife I fell in love with. I was so bloody jealous of him. He had everything he needed. And I wanted it. I wanted to be able to father that child that was growing inside of her. My child…

It seemed so unfair. I loved her, and he was the one who got to go home to her every night. He was the one who got to kiss her when he got home. Not me… And why?? God alone knew.

All I knew was that I wanted him out of the way. That child would be mine, not his.

I realized what I had to do…and it wasn’t going to be easy. He had, after all been like a brother to me in the past.

And then suddenly, he walked in. And I just lost it. I was mad at him, and I would make him pay. In a flash, I had the drawer opened and I had taken out the Walther. I was going to sever every bond we had. I pulled the trigger.

Funny…I never expected it to hurt so much. I watched as he fell slowly to the ground. And then, I noticed the gun in his hand. My vision started to blur. Everything was going cold.

People turn purple with rage, red with shame, and green with envy at least once a day, and more than a handful of times a week.

It’s statistically proven. Ok, maybe it’s not, but that doesn’t make it untrue, and I’m sure you could vouch for that. Shades of these emotions certainly make life more interesting, but while no one wants to lead a boring life, maybe living sinfully isn’t the solution. It’s one thing to talk about the evil effects of these …! GASP! vices, and a whole another thing to live with them.

Envy.

Something we’ve all befriended, ever since we saw our neighbor propping his Mac Book against the dashboard of his BMW, or ever since we secretly wished we too,could put away a cheeseburger and fries along with a chocolate latte, and still look like that amazingly fit friend (everyone has one of these friends, everyone).

Envy.

It’s never pretty, and sometimes, it gets downright ugly. Although it might be a bit of an ego boost when you know someone secretly envies you, it’s not so much fun when above mentioned person decides to indulge in a little behind- the- back slander or _______(insert backstabbing activity of choice here). After all, ‘Greatness inspires envy, envy engenders spite, and spite spawns lies.’

Unless your skin is as thick as dragon hide and you

are unaffected by the petty crimes the world and its denizens commit around you, you might want to square your shoulders and learn to deal with it.

Look for the good in everything, and also teach others how to do it. More often than not, green eyed monsters are usually big warm marshmallows inside, but with a baggage of low self esteem attached. Counting our blessings and remembering that each of us is unique is an amazingly simple gift we forget to give ourselves. We tend to get so involved in marking our win against the others on that giant imaginary scoreboard, that we forget that we aren’t even in a race.

This season, we stop the sins.

This season, we turn our wasted minutes into useful ones as we finally join that salsa class, or get that A on our report card because we’ve kept ourselves busy and wonderfully so.

This season, we lock up our envy, and give that friend of ours a high five while falling into step beside her during her morning jog. Maybe we even pass Mr. Hotshot neighbour and his car, enroute, and flash him a smile. And just maybe, that classmate who always picked on us for being a Harry Potter nerd will ask us if we’d like to go watch Deathly Hallows: Part 1 with them next week. After all, what goes around comes around.

This season, we shed the green.

Maslow rightly lists food as one of man’s cardinal needs. But excesses always lead to complications, gastronomic disorders by natural extension. Greed has already been established as a Sin, Gluttony is merely its subset. And if you think that Gluttony doesn’t merit any debit, on the scales of Karma,

then have a look at Dudley Dursley.

Famous Harry Potter’s not-so-famous cousin. What comes to your mind immediately when I say his name? Yeah, he eats a lot. So does Augustus Gloop from Charlie & The Chocolate Factory. But our liaison with Dudley is a little longer and so is the list of evidence of his gluttony. His only claim to fame is “achieving what he had been threatening to do since the age of five – grow wider than he is taller”.

Dinky Duddydums may not have been born with a silver spoon in his mouth, but he most definitely had a spoon in his mouth! Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia left no stone unturned in satiating their precious boy. Really, which parent wouldn’t install a TV in the kitchen because the apple of their eye felt that the refrigerator was too far away? The resultant physique may have landed him a spot on his school boxing team but the Smeltings nurse sure did notice that he had “roughly reached the size and proportion of a baby whale”.

Aunt Petunia could swear that it was nothing but puppy fat and Uncle Vernon may have pronounced the new diet as ‘rabbit food’, but they should have seen it coming. Big D took up an entire side of the table for himself, even more so when sulking over his pitiful meal of celery and cottage cheese. But let us give him a little credit. His gluttony transcends all tastes and he is perfectly capable of displaying a longing for something as unappetizing as Uncle Vernon’s share of grapefruit in his “sour, piggy eyes”.

What a big appetite! How about a tongue to go along with it? Yeah, remember Fred’s Ton-Tongue Toffee? A sweet pay-back. Even though he’s perfectly aware of his parents’ aversion to some of “their lot”, he can’t stop himself from picking up anything that’s edible, wizard-made or otherwise. He’d probably eat out of Voldemort’s palm, even! But he can’t help it, it’s in the poor chap’s nature.

And he has his parents to thank for this. Even though the Dursleys never actually starved Harry, they always seemed to feed Dudley more than enough for himself and Harry combined. Even during the diet regime, Harry was given his customary, pitiful helping because making sure that he got less to eat than Dudley seemed to be help pull Dudley out of the ‘gloom’ brought on by the diet. And he’s known no other way since childhood, so he thinks it’s perfectly fine. It’s sad to see that his own parents are responsible for nurturing this Sin.

But old Dudders turned out to be okay in the end. True, his other traits are grossly overshadowed by his love for food. Remember Harry’s first reaction to Honeydukes was imagining Dudley’s first reaction to Honeydukes? It is difficult to move past that, but even spoilt brats are capable of human emotions and so is our little Popkin. The consequences of Gluttony are almost laughable when compared to those of other Sins. Obesity, big fat paunches, but again there are slimming pills and gyms to take care of that! In my opinion however, what should really be deemed as Undesirable Number 1 is, being a pig *ahem* *Hagrid* *cough* *cough*

“Shoot all the bluejays you want but remember it’s a sin to kill a mockingbird”

Set in the 1930s in the sleepy town of Maycomb, To kill a mockingbird, is, essentially, a simple story about growing

up. Woven delicately into this, is an epic about racism, and its effects on the society. It is, however, not a blunt, in-your-face description of the immorality of racism. However, through the eyes of Jean Louise Finch(Scout), the author profoundly, yet gently, describes the sheer lack of reason and logic to a white man’s pride in his so-called superior race and the unfairness a Negro faces in a racist society.

Scout and her older brother Jeremy Louise Finch (Jem) live with their father, Atticus Finch, a lawyer. When Atticus is required to defend a Negro, in a rape-accusation case, he realises that the following months would reveal, to him and his children, the cruel and prejudiced side of the people of Maycomb. While he knows that even though logic and evidence is on the defendant’s side, convincing and expecting a jury to deliver a verdict against a white man, Bob Ewell, based on

a Negro, Tom Robinson’s words, would be asking for too much.

As the story progresses one grows along with the characters, and is given an opportunity to view a white man’s pride, the primary cause of racism, through a child’s eyes. What stands out, however, is that Scout’s and Jem’s lives are not primarily defined by the problems they face and lessons they learn while Tom’s case progresses. Rather, it is just a part that helps in their growing up and forming values and beliefs.

It’s a deeply moving and compassionate book that makes one realise that sometimes we need to look through a child’s eyes, to place evidence over pride, to see the unfairness of racial discrimination, and to know why it is a sin, to kill a mockingbird.

No one can eat just one. Simple. Brilliant. For one who has always been an admirer of genius marketing campaign slogans,

this one in particular stood out the year it was coined. Coupled with a catchy jingle that’s a blink and a miss, this slogan for Lays potato chips caught the fancy of millions across the nation.

It’s appeal lies in its simplicity. Whether or not we choose to acknowledge it, fact is we all hate sharing good food. Add greed to selfishness and you’ve got a knock out marketing strategy. It’s as simple as that. Greed and Gluttony go hand in hand, add a catchy jingle to that and you have the holy trinity of food ad campaigns. But why do we need to pay attention to a simple advertisement? Because it’s one in a long list of commodities sold, targeting the greedy child in you. Don’t take my word for it. Think about it. Take shoes for instance. You apparently don’t need just the one pair, you need separate pair to run, a pair to walk, a pair to work, a pair for yoga and so on. Don’t even get me started on footwear for women. Shoes to match your eyes, shoes to match your top, shoes to match that cute kitten you chanced upon on an exotic holiday! Just one example. And if that didn’t make an impression here’s everyone’s favourite - Greek Mythology.

King Midas was the ruler of Pessinus. He found Silenus and returned him to Bacchus. You don’t need to know who they are. Long story short, Bacchus asked him to wish for anything, Midas asked for the power to turn anything to gold upon touching it.

So here you have a prosperous monarch, with all the wealth in the world who wants to turn everything around him to gold. Just like a child who always dreams of a room full of candy. Predictably, his food and drinks turned to gold, so did his daughter. Yeah food, drinks and daughter in one sentence, I’m insensitive, bite me!

Is greed really a sin? Isn’t our greed for knowledge the reason why the human race is at the pinnacle of the evolutionary tree? One may sugar coat it and call it the thirst for knowledge but it is what it is - greed. It’s greed that helped man invent the wheel. It’s greed that pushed him to invent an engine to power his wheel. From a primitive bicycle to a Boeing jet, from a telegraph machine to a Blackberry every product that makes our lives easier to live is a direct product of our insatiable desire for more.

Take technology for instance. There was a time when we were content with cassette players or walkmans as they were called. Then came Discmans and before people figured them out - hello MP3! But a simple MP3 player wasn’t going to be enough. Of course not. We needed a click wheel. We needed a screen.

“Alright, the iPod it is then. ““Oh no wait, it’s too bulky. “Fine, you may have the iPod Nano but that’s it. ““No, too many buttons.”“Ok the iTouch.”“But I can’t make calls”“You ingrate, iPhone should do the trick.”“No Bluetooth?” ”New iPhone.”“But it’s not as functional as my PC.”“Stick to your PC then. ““What if I’m on the move.”“Mac Book. ““Too many buttons.”“Fine.....only cause you said please..”“But I didn’t...”“Just go with the flow ok? Here’s the iPad!”“But it’s too big....and I can’t make calls...” “aaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggggggghhhhhhhhh”

So we’re all as greedy as God apparently felt we would be. We’re all sinners and are all destined for hell. Where’s the moral you ask? Come on you greedy prick, how much do you want from a simple essay? And as a parting thought....does hell have an Imax screen? Avatar’s just not the same without one!

1. HYPOCRISY ABOUT - YOU KNOW WHAT!2. TWILIGHT3.SHOPPING4. SCREECHING5. LOOSE LONG CLOTHES6. HINDI DRAMAS (HUSBANDS ARE NOT SAARIS, YOU DONT CHANGE ‘EM EVERYDAY :P)7. CRYING

PERIOD. WE DON’T EVEN HAVE TO GIVE AN EXPLANATION DO WE.

Nicolas Paul Stéphane Sarközy de Nagy-Bocsa, current President of France and ex-officio Coprince of Andorra was born in 1955 to a Hungarian immigrant couple in the city of Paris. A “Rockstar” among presidents, President Nicolas Sarközy is an idealist, known for trying to improve the French work

ethic, trying to improve the French economy and trying to bring about an end to intolerance. Whether he succeeds or not will only be known after the national elections to be held 2 years later.

Nicolas was born to a young couple, Pál Sárközy and Andrée Mallah in 17th arrondissement of Paris on the 28th of January 1955. Being as it were, a posh area, young Nicolas grew up in wealthy surroundings without any material wants. He had with him two brothers for company, Guillaume, born in 1951, and François, born in 1957. Young Nicolas’ life had every chance of being very pleasant. He was descended from Hungarian nobility from his father’s side and from an intellectual Jewish family from his mother’s side. Neither of his parents were lacking in money. He went to a state school and then was sent to a private school, where he got his baccalauréat. He entered military service, as was befitting a member of the nobility and then passed the bar as a graduate of business and family law. He was one of Silvio Berlusconi’s top French advocates. Now for the fine print.

For those of you who do not know, the reason young Nicolas was even sent to a private school was because he failed his sixième, an exam one gives at the age of 11 to 12. Naturally, he could neither be shifted to another state school nor could he drop a year. He just had to be shifted to a private school. He somehow managed to scrape through secondary school and graduate. For his military service, he joined the air-force as a part-time air-force cleaner. A job befitting nobility anywhere in the world. After graduating, he entered the Institut d’Études Politiques de Paris, better known as Sciences Po, (1979–1981) but failed to graduate due to an insufficient command of the English language. All this time, young Nicolas maintained that his behaviour was due to actions of his father.

Nicolas Sarközy went on to become leader of the Union for a popular movement (UMP). He has served as Minister of the Interior and as Minister of Finance for France under Chirac and Raffarin. He was, before assuming any of these posts, a Minister of Budget under the RPR government, president of the General council of the Hauts-de-Seine department from 2004 to 2007 and mayor of Neuilly-sur-Seine, one of the wealthiest communes of France, from 1983 to 2002.

He is known for being a skilled orator as well as for his charismatic personality. He is also said to be more pro-US and pro-Israeli than most French Politicians.

However, Sarkö is not a “Rockstar” because of any virtue described above. Like a true Frenchman, his image stems from his many, and highly publicised, relationships with women. A description of the life and lusts of Nicolas Sárközy follows.

Sarközy married his first wife, Marie-Dominique Culioli, on 23 September 1982. A charming lady, she was the daughter of a pharmacist from Vico. She met him, fell in love with him and married him while he was a newly-elected councillor to Neuilly. The couple had two sons, Pierre and Jean. They lived happily for two years, a happy, loving family. Unfortunately, the bliss was not to last. Nicolas’ libido was simply waiting to spring up again. And spring up it did, as he presided over the marriage of Cécilia Ciganer-Albéniz and Jacques Martin in his capacity of Mayor of Neuilly.

Marie-Dominique Sarközy knew nothing about the thoughts roving in her husband’s head. She befriended Cécilia and the two women grew very close. They went out to fancy restaurants together with their husbands,

raised their children together and did other things a pair of close lady friends would do. She never even suspected the real reason behind Cécilia’s friendship. It took the poor woman until 1988 to realise that her husband and Cécilia were having an affair. The discovery took place in the Alpine resort of Megeve where the two couples had gone skiing. Marie-Dominique knocked on Cécilia’s door and was met with the sound of scuffling feet. When she looked out the window of Cécilia’s room, she found Sarkö’s footsteps in the snow. Poor Sarkö, caught in the act. But give him some credit, Sarkö took it like a man should. He convinced Cécilia to leave her husband and come to him, which she did.

At this moment, let us pause to see the exchange Sarközy made. He swapped Marie-Dominique for Cécilia. Marie-Dominique was a small town girl with a rustic, rural touch about her. A native of Vico, Corsica, she could not hold Sarkö’s interest for long. Compare her to Cécilia, who was a former model and a public relations officer. No comparison. No indeed. Sarkö’s mind was made up. He made his choice.

From 1988, Sarkö associated himself with Cécilia, who was lovestruck enough to actually divorce her husband thee months after she left him. The couple stayed together, Marie-Dominique safely out of their lives. The golden years of Cécilia’s life begun here. Apparently, she was enough for Sarkö, for no new reports of affairs stem up from this period in his life. He progressed politically, he was satisfied with his new girl, but for some curious reason, he did not divorce his first wife until 1996, after which he immediately married Cécilia. In 1997, she bore him a baby boy, Louis. His union complete, Sarkö seemed to stabilize, growing in political stature. He went from ministry to ministry, ministry to ministry, finally ending up at the top post itself, that of the president of France.

But as he went up the ladder, Sarkö’s thoughts turned elsewhere. Or rather, back to where they belonged. ‘Cécilia’s getting boring....’ His thoughts turned to his bed and he began scouting for other talented women. With great power comes great responsibility. Oops! Sarkö misread the quote. With great power come many women.

But Sarkö, for all his academic failure was a very cunning guy. When he was a Minister, Cécilia Sarközy had an office next to his, serving as his close adviser. In 2002, she was appointed to the Office of the Ministry of the Interior. In 2005 she was appointed Chief of Staff for the UMP Party. He heaped political offices on her, hoping to keep her busy while he had his fun. He even took out statements claiming Cécilia was his Achilles heel and that they would forever be together and that she was his soulmate and all that talk. However, Sarkö’s cover was blown when it was reported that he was having an affair with a reporter by the name of Anne Fulda in

2005.

Apparently, Cécilia knew about it as well, because there came an article in the Swiss newspaper Le Matin expounding on her affair with Richard Attias head of Publicis in New York. Way to go Cécilia! You beat the man at his own game!

Sarkö threw a tantrum at that. He sued the paper for its “accusations of private nature”. But their bubbles had burst. He knew that he was not interested in her, and she knew that he was not the one for her. She went as far as calling Attias her true love. All this was too much for Sarkö. On 15 October 2007 he divorced Cécilia and began scouting around for another partner. It took him four months to get married again. Carla Bruni must have been as desperate as he was. Or maybe it was the power of the president’s title which attracted her, she’s known to have been attracted to powerful men.

His marriage to Carla Bruni was the main highlight of his first term in office. Of course, protests and roadblocks are quite common in the land of the French Revolution, so the blockade of the country (twice) doesn’t really count. A President who divorces his wife in office and has a four month whirlwind romance before marrying an Italian pop-star of international fame? Yeah! That’s what we French want!

But Carla Bruni’s supposed to be a tigress herself. With 9 affairs under her (ahem!) belt, she was not one to be satisfied with monogamy. What is Sarkö compared to Mick Jagger and Eric Clapton? Yeah, everyone knows the answer. It seems she’s already set the rules for their marriage. Both parties are currently reported to be engaged in extramarital affairs, according to some allegations on Twitter.

At this point, we must return to one part of the story we have deliberately overlooked. No, not the reactions of his ex-wives, we can guess those. Remember Sarkö had a father, with whom his relationship while growing up is central to who he is today? Well, in 1959, Pál Sárközy left his wife and remarried three times. He had two more children, Nicolas’ half brothers. He refused to give any financial help to his ex-wife and children, nor did he even visit Nicolas frequently. “What made me who I am now is the sum of all the humiliations suffered during childhood.” Says Sarkö, who felt inferior to his classmates blessed with kind fathers. Yeah, poor Sarkö. We can feel your pain.

I lie silent, witnessing the cries around mePray, what can I do?I have no political clout.I am just one hapless person.

The cries get louderThe children are in pain.Nay, don’t look at me, readerI am but one hapless person.

Mother, why should I shoulderThe problems of the worldMustn’t I enjoy the life you’ve given me?What good came anywayOf Suu Kyi , Mandela and GandhiThe world will get more like them, motherBut not me, oh please not meI want to enjoy this lifeI am but a weak and hapless person.

The hooker on the streetsShe chose the lifeShe slept with the ragamuffinWhy should I care?The NGOs- They will take care of herI know they canThey will.What can I do?Just one hapless person?

The world is changing, maIt’s getting warmerThe ice caps are melting

What can I do, ma?I do care, well, maybe a littleBut it’s too hot, maI need the ACAnd I can’t travel in those busesJesus, no, I need the carYou see ma?I’m tryingBut what can I do?I am but one hapless person

I know this world is also mine, my sweetBut what can I do?There are too many problems that we faceIn 2012, we’re probably going to die anywayWhat’s the point?

I ain’t standing for no elections.I don’t want to be no whistleblowerI am just an ordinary human being.I see the problem.We’re self-destructing.But I am no scientist.I don’t have the trigger in my hand.I am spiraling downwards, like the rest of our race.But what can I do?I am after allJust one, ordinary, hapless person.

Beads of sweat trickled down his back as he struggled to hold posture. Days turned to months, months to years and decades,

but the weight bearing down on his shoulders only grew. Despite the incessant weight on his shoulders the single thought running thorough this mind throughout the years was not about the pain or the lack of companions, but pride, in defying all odds and managing to keep his honor. Every single time the weight seemed too much to bear or when it seemed to slip from his fingers, he was tempted to let go, maybe not forever, just a brief pause perhaps. He most definitely deserved it, he reasoned with himself. But he knew that a moment’s pause was all it took for worlds to come crashing down taking all his years of toil with him. He had no choice, he told himself, but to rally own, straining every muscle to a point where he was sure they would burst, spending every ounce of energy he could muster.

He thought he heard someone call out his name. It couldn’t be, he told himself, must be the exhaustion playing tricks with his mind. He heard it again, this time however it seemed too real to be just voices in his head. However even if there was someone calling out his name, he was not willing to spend any

precious energy on lifting his head.

“Atlas, a man of his word, the epitome of endurance!”, he heard a cheerful voice say, which, in spite of his disarrayed state, recognized as that of Prometheus, his brother. Atlas began to wonder why Prometheus decided to pay Atlas a visit, assuming of course that this was not a hallucination, a possibility that hadn’t entirely deserted Atlas’s mind. Prometheus spoke, “When brother, would you give up? When would you realize that this burden is not yours to bear? Let go brother and come with me.” Silence ensued as Atlas debated on whether his brother’s words were worthy of the energy spent on a reply. “I do it because I can.” said Atlas. Prometheus laughed, a hollow laugh, which echoed long after the he stopped. An eerie silence of the infinity of space which followed, unsettled both the brothers. It was first broken by Prometheus, “Because you can? That’s your excuse for having spent close to eternity bearing the weight of the skies on your shoulders?” “ Because I can.” Atlas repeated. “And because no one else can.” he continued.”I don’t need an excuse to do what is right. You, a sly thief are judging me for what I do, for my actions, which any man would see as noble and moral? It’s my turn to laugh! And come with you? Where to, may I ask? Need my help in another scheme of your? Is that the purpose of this encounter?” Atlas asked, finally looking up, straight into Prometheus’s eyes. Prometheus sighed and said, “I did not steal out of greed. I was once like you. I thought it was unjust of the Olympians to not share their knowledge of the fire with humans. All my attempts to reason it out with the Olympians were futile, which inevitably led me to my act of thievery. I stole, not out of greed or malice, but with the most noblest intentions, the same as yours, to help man. I gave them the gift of fire. I saw them flourish. And then I saw the same fire engulf them. Their greed consuming them slowly, spreading like fire, it’s flames turning everything

to ash. It’s not the greed of those who were able or those who could, those like you and me, but the greed of the parasites, those that fed off our abilities. Their idea of nobility and morality nurtured this vicious cycle. The burden of stupidity fell on the intellect, and they bore it! Carrying them along on all their endeavors, holding on to the idea that it’s their moral duty to do so, despite the incessant increase in their number. They toiled on, just like you are now, only to be consumed. All of them. Those that believed that the quality of their work was their religion, were consumed by the rest of the world. Atlas, don’t make the same mistake they did. Their greed consumed them, the lack of it will consume you. Come with me dear brother. The strong shall no longer bear the burden of the weak. I’m leaving this universe, along with a few of the ancients, to set up a new Atlantis. A land where morality is defined

as each man’s pursuit of happiness, reason the only absolute and achievement his religion.”

The silence that followed was almost deafening. Atlas was unsure of his own thoughts, as the sheer gravity of the exchange bore down on him. He closed his eyes in an attempt to gain a perspective on the things that had been said. In the silence that ensured, even sound rustle of the sweat bead as it rolled down Atlas’s back was audible. As Atlas opened his eyes trying to gauge what Prometheus expected of him, he realized Prometheus was nowhere to be seen. Atlas called out his name, in vain. As he began to wonder if this was trickery of his brain or that of Prometheus, an elaborate plan where Atlas would now abandon the skies and go in his pursuit, he realized that the burden of the conversation, real or imaginary exceeded the weight of the skies. And Atlas….shrugged.

Mother, don’t get mad at meFor not addressing you as dearIt’s not that I don’t love youIt’s because of my story that you didn’t wish to hear.

I haven’t seen you since I got into jailFive years ago, I wished to tell you why I’m hereI wished to tell you why I went wrongYou didn’t see me off ma, I failed and so I shed my tear.

The police wanted reason; the judge demanded explanation,but I didn’t give them, mother, I didn’t give them anyBecause I don’t care if they know or not...I want you to knowThat my roots were strong but the fault lied in the stem.

And now mother, I’ll be dying soon So, you have no option but to hearThat why I punished that naughty kidWhy I landed here...

He stole the little treasure I saved for youHe stole it from right under my nose

I gave him a chance...he asked for itBut on his refusal, I had to give him his dose.

The police didn’t catch me, it was I who surrenderedBecause of guilt and repent from acting on impulse,I wish you saw how brave I was, motherBut now I wish that you’d cry on my fading pulse.

I have no time to spare, I’m dyingI wish I could see you just one last timeBut if I fail to do that tooI hope we’ll settle our differences through this rhyme.

Once I die, bury me close, close to your heart And please pray for meFor me to rest in peace...remember me as your son whoWished to help his mother in times of misery.

Blended from a poisoned soul,A bloodless hand and sightless eyes;His mammoth fury takes its toll -Another non-believer dies.

The rigid prism of his mindShatters light that is but one.He matches color with his kindReducing the others to none.

Spread the faith, wise believer,Excite soul to ecstasy.You can surely kill anotherBefore divine heresy.

Plague the world, noble believerLock the open mind with key.Bar the stray paths, keep no other;Other than the one you see.

Shoulders cold and tongue ablazeHe spreads the word he calls divine:“Follow me into the mazeWhere you break free from me and mine!”

No more is he alone in quest,In preaching words with actions cruel.The cause revered by all the rest -Each a believer under his rule.

Zodiac: Sagittarius,

Hometown: Baswada, Rajasthan (near Udaipur) however now I live in Ratlam.

Music: No particular choice, prefer hindi music though.

Dance: Contemporary, my favorite dancer is MJ.

Movies: Titanic, Comedy, Romance preferably.

Hobbies: Dancing ( have been dancing for as long as I remember.), music, hanging out with friends.

Sports: Badminton, basketball, like watching football and my favorite is Sachin Tendulkar.

Food: Chinese, pizzas, chaat, frankies etc. ( basically junk food.)

Fashion: I like traditional clothes, different styles with saaris.

How has school and college life been in general: Till 10th was an all rounder (tried everything), 11-12 only studied, college-readjusting.

About you: Friendly, fun to be with, kiddish.

Concept of Masti: Teasing people, exploring new places and types of food.

Friends are: People who know more about me than myself, someone I can trust.

Memorable moments: 1. Won the special cadet award in the RDC camp and partied with great people.

2. Birthdays celebrations (all are special)

Embarrassing Moment: Very few, don’t really remember. However this interview sure is one and photo sessions. I don’t like remembering bad times.

First Crush: A society friend in 11th class, an awesome singer and guitarist.

Ideal mate: Loyal, caring, good personality, handsome and smart.

Ideal date: It should raining, go for a long walk, get drenched and dance. Also there should be flowers (red & white roses)

Kill a person: Don’t hate anyone.

Changes you would want to see in BPHC: 1. More sports facilities for girls.

2. Continuous evaluation should be removed.

Message to BPHC: study less, lesser CGPA enjoy the college life.

Message to the World: Peace!! Peace, peace..!!

People whom you admire: Supriya (elder cousin)

My father.

Q. WHAT IS YOUR COMPANY ALL ABOUT? WHAT DOES IT DO? WHO ARE THE FOUNDING MEMBERS?

A. There were three of us from BITS-Pilani, Sudarshan and Charan. Sudarshan looks at operation and Charan handles technology.

What we do is basically bus ticketing. We leverage technology through the internet. We have three divisions –Web based ticketing. We sell bus tickets online. We also have a call centre where customer can enquire regarding availability of tickets and book tickets. Delivery boys deliver these tickets to customers. Finally, a software division – here we lease software to bus operators and they pay us for the usage of this “seat selling” software - as we have access to all the seats available on all the buses, we provide the seat availability information to our competitors for a price. We operate about 10,000 buses every day spread over 15 states and 700 bus operators.

Q. What made you start this company? What first gave you this idea?

A. I got the initial idea in the Diwali of 2005. I was in Bangalore and wanted to travel to Hyderabad, so I went to a regular travel agent. He made a few calls and told me that no seats were available. I asked him to try calling other bus operators but he said that he had no dealings with them. I went to some other agents, who after making some calls told me the same thing. So, I was stuck for the long weekend in Bangalore. This pushed me to go to the bus operators. What I found out was that all bookings were done using a pen and paper method. A travel agent would not know all the bus operators. He would call them up by phone and ask whether seats were available. The whole system was flawed. I thought, why not set up a computer system and make the information available to everyone. When I told my idea to the bus operators they appreciated it.

Q. How difficult was it to start up? Did you encounter any set-backs? How did you deal with them?

A. The initial thing was software. Even though we were engineering students, we graduated with a B.E. in Electronics. We knew C, but none of the other programming languages like Java etc. We learnt whatever we could through books and started developing the software. It took us 4-5 months to create the software. This was the first hurdle. Then when we approached the bus operators with the software, they were not willing to buy it. Now this was a huge challenge for us. Initially these people had said this was a good idea but now they were not willing to buy the software.

We weren’t sure what to do next. We approached TIE, a non-profit organisation which helps entrepreneurs. If you came up with a good idea you could approach them and they will help you. So we went to them with our problem, and the mentors there were really helpful. They told us that these are the kind of problems were faced by entrepreneurs everyday. There is a huge resistance to change. People don’t change unless there is some major problem. So find out that problem. So we started searching for this big problem and figured out that selling tickets was the real problem and that was what mattered to the people. So we started selling tickets on the internet. Once the volume started picking up, the bus operators approached us and started using our software.

q. What were the sources of finance you could leverage?

A. We were already working for 3 years and used our savings for the set up. After 4-5 months we got an investment from a venture capital fund. This gave us three crores.

Q. How will your work affect the masses?

A. I cannot exactly say masses but this is having an impact. The whole bus industry has changed. It has become more transparent. As a customer, it’s very easy for you to book seats. You can know the seat availability, compare prices, and choose the buses you want. Also now you don’t need to go to the travel agent causing less fuel wastage. If we booked 8000 seats a day, let’s say earlier the customer travelled one km up and one km down. So everyday 16000 km of fuel is saved! Even if Rs. 5 is spent on one km then the total would be Rs. 80,000 every day!

Q. Where do you see yourself after 5 years? What are your plans for the future?

A. We want to grow and expand our business. We want to achieve 10 times of what we are now. Then only would we be along with the big companies. 80,000 seats a day is not something small.

Q. Any tips for upcoming entrepreneurs?

A. They should find a good mentor and trust him. Initially when you get an idea, you don’t know how to implement it. The mentor tells you what to do and how to do it. I think this is the critical advice I would give. A good mentor would be one who has started a company from scratch and built it. He/She can be anyone, irrespective of the domain. Since start-ups are innovative you wouldn’t find two start ups to be similar

(when i asked him who his mentor was -he siad “sanjay anand,worked in wipro .he is the founder of two companies .you can google him up”)

Q. What lesson do you think people should take from college?

A. One of the important things is to have a big friends circle and retaining all of them. You learn a lot from your friends. You learn how to tolerate people, figure out who is going to help you in the time of need. You learn people management skills. And a company is nothing but people. If you don’t know how to manage people you can’t manage a company. People should participate in all cultural and social activities, like clubs for instance. You should try to take up leadership positions. I was head of DOPY in Pilani. I had to make people work for me without salaries. People would have tests, other activities etc. but you had to get them to produce something. You would learn to experiment and when something becomes successful, your belief will increase. I use what I learnt there even today.

What are your favourite memories?

Presently the only thing I can remember is DOPY. I really love my college. In DOPY, we used to go out every semester on a trip. There was a rule that the ratio of girls to boys would be equal. From selections to excursions, this rule was always applied. We would go out to new places. As the head, I organised 3-4 trips. Booking the buses, hotel arrangements, I had to organise a lot of things. And everyone would have to listen to me. Those times were memorable. I have tons of pictures of them and I look at them even now.

Q. Any such belief as a “formula for success”?

For a company to be successful, many things would need to happen simultaneously. You need your suppliers right, you need your workers right, and you need the competition to be wrong.

Even if a things few fail, everything fails. So I thinks that if the no. of positives is more than the no. of negatives, then you are most likely to be successful. I am saying “likely” not “will be”.

The sound of anklets echoed through the dark corridors of her mansion. As she ran through the halls to see who her suitors were, the walls looked at her in awe - joy wasn’t a very common expression in that castle. She could have counted the number of times she’d laughed out loud, or spoken to anyone, or been happy in general. Krishnaa was an unwanted child, too dark and too ungraceful to be a princess. Her brother loved her, but the tender touch of a mother, she never knew.

Krishnaa had been born to change the world. She was told that she alone would be more powerful than all the warriors alive. As she ran through the main corridor now, she wondered who indeed would be the man who would hold her hand, the hand of destiny itself. Would he be strong, with eyes that burned fiercely? Would he be dark, like her? Would it be Arjun, the most powerful man on earth, or would it be Duryodhan? For reasons she didn’t know yet, she hoped it would be neither.

The minstrel was exhausted. He had shown the princess thousands of pictures of suitors from all over the world, but there she sat with her characteristic pout. No one had so much as gotten a second glance from her. In a final attempt, he took out the one last portrait he had. He had been forbidden from bringing the picture, let alone showing it to her. But he had no choice.

Time lost its significance as she sat looking at that picture. The man wasn’t dark. He certainly did not have fierce eyes. In fact, they looked like deep pools of melancholy. Yet, there was an arrogant air about the man; the look of someone who has been through a lot, but knows that he can survive. It was in that seemingly endless span of time that she fell in love with him. He was the eldest of the Pandavas, abandoned so early that he knew not of a mother, except as someone to be loathed. He was Karna, and she did not know then that she would never be allowed to marry him.

Draupadi, she was to be. She would live to be the queen of the earth. She would marry five men, each one a noble warrior, yet she wouldn’t love a single one of them. Her words would drive them into action; the greatest battle in history would thus be fought. She would be the reason why a thousand women would be widowed on the plains of Kurukshetra. She would also be Sairandhri, a chambermaid. She would be gambled away. She would be humiliated in public and would spend her days in a forest far away from royalty and excesses. After all of this, she would die alone. Those she lived with wouldn’t love her, and those she loved would be too far away.

What she did not know then was that the sands of time had changed patterns, with that one decision to fall in love with the wrong man. She would humiliate him, just to deceive her husbands and hide her true feelings for him. The more she longed for him, the further he would be gone onto the enemy’s side.

As she kept looking at him, blissfully ignorant of what would happen, she scorned at the words of the chambermaid who had once told her that love is complicated. If only she knew then that she had committed the greatest of all sins at that very moment, would she have done things differently?

For falling in love had been quick, painless and simple. Falling out of it, however, would be another issue.

David Fincher is the man who gave us Fight Club, Panic Room, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button and The Social Network.

While all these are critically acclaimed films, Se7en is probably his best work to date.

Se7en is a grisly, dark and horrifying thriller that grips the viewer from beginning to end. It is disturbing to the point of being hard to digest for most people. It tells the story of two detectives, one on the verge of retirement (William Somerset, played by Morgan Freeman) and the other at the start of his career (David Mills, played by Brad Pitt). They are partnered for their first case together, to investigate a series of killings based on the seven deadly sins. The movie’s

opening credits are set to a remix of Nine Inch Nails’ “Closer”, which sets the depressing mood for the film.

The movie constantly sends shivers down the viewer’s spine, depicting the grisly murders based on the Sins. A fat man is forced to eat himself to death (for the crime of Gluttony), a model’s face is disfigured and she is given a choice between help and suicide (for the crime of Pride at her own beauty), another man is barely kept alive for an entire year (Sloth). Lust and Greed have equally disturbing murders to their names. These scenes are about as graphic as a commercial film would allow, and are certainly not for the faint hearted.

As the story progresses and the detectives get closer to the killer, the feeling of tension becomes stronger. The scene where the killer’s books and notes are revealed is spine-chilling, offering an insight into the his twisted mind. In the midst of these scenes, there is a faint glimmer of hope in the scenes involving

Mills’ wife (Gwyneth Paltrow) confiding in Somerset. These scenes flesh out both characters wonderfully, and Morgan Freeman plays his role to perfection, showing why he is one of the top actors in the world today.

The film is gloomy throughout. The visuals are brilliant for the value that they add to the film. The story takes place in an unnamed city where nothing works properly - pipes are leaky, buildings are dingy and dark (the only light is from the flashlights of the detectives) and when the lights do work, they cast small, wan pools of light which serve only to depress the viewer even more. It is perpetually raining. These touches are rarely ever noticed by viewers, however

do a brilliant job of (subconsciously) preserving the mood of the movie. The dialogue in the film deserves special praise. Morgan Freeman’s lines seem tailor-made for him (or is he tailor-made for them?)

Brad Pitt, Gwyneth Paltrow and Morgan Freeman have put in top performances for this film. The entire film is brilliant; however, the final half-hour will simply blows you away. The hunted serial killer (an uncredited role) makes an appearance with a role that makes Pitt and Freeman look small. He carries the rest of the film on his shoulders. He is revealed as a scarily twisted psychopath with an equally twisted plan for the finale. The ending is one which should not be missed, and definitely goes down as one of the greatest in movie history.

all, Se7en is a scary, twisted but nonetheless brilliantly-made film that is a must-watch for any movie fan. Watch this one from beginning to end without any breaks, for that is how it is meant to be watched. It will leave you in awe.

This is a normal story about a boy and a girl...Remember the day when you first met the love

of your life? You must have enjoyed the moment ... She was like an angel straight from the heavens. Her smile, bright as sunshine, her hair, bouncing in the air like feathers, her face, glowing like the moon, all coming together to enslave you to this emotion called love.

Well this story is different- it is not your normal love story.

Brad was your normal average high school guy. By average I mean the studious kind of guy who is typically not that well built and has a lot of great friends whom he looks upto - AVERAGE. He was nothing special, never stood out at anything although tried a hand at almost everything. He had no particular talent that one would point out but all in all he was a good guy.

His school saw a lot of new admissions that year- the year that made his life... different. Amongst the fresh heads that showed up for the year was Angelina- your typically average girl. By average I think you know what I mean by now. AVERAGE.

The school bell rang and wave of students responded by coming in through the doors. They were all different from one another – some short, some tall, some dark, some fair, some acting cool,

some depressed and some whose emotions were not shown in their faces. It was paradise for an artist who wanted to depict a million emotions in one canvas. After a few minutes the wave segregated to their respective rooms...no rush, no tension... only excitement of the first day of the year.

Brad had English for his first hour. He looked around sitting in the second bench of the third row. He preferred to sit near the door, so that he could come in and get out faster (atleast that’s what he told his friends). Miss Beth, a tall, fairly beautiful young brunette in her late twenties, with a slight British accent, his English teacher said “Good Morning everybody”, as soon as she entered the class.

Miss Beth asked everyone to settle down just like every other teacher in the school did at that time. She arranged some papers on her table and took out a sheet from her file and scurried through it. Leaning gently onto the table she scanned the class looking for someone specific. Finally someone caught her eye and she suddenly stopped. With a gentle wave of her hand, which was an abode of long lean fingers with nice red nail polish, she asked someone to come to the front of the class, “Angelina please come here dear and introduce yourself to the class.”

Brad was busy setting his table ready with Romeo and Juliet and a notebook. He searched his breast pocket for a pen, but couldn’t find one. He swore to himself for forgetting the pen and turned around to

Ric to borrow one.

Meanwhile Angelina was making her way through the class to the front. She started, “Hello everyone, I am Angelina... “, and ended with a shy wave.

This caught Brad’s attention and he turned to see the new girl. She was just like any other girl in his class- just as beautiful or as ugly. There was nothing special about her, but she had an inexplicable aura- one that caught Brad’s attention. She had a good voice- bit of a bass.

She was ‘her’ to him. ‘Her’ who made his life great, who consoled him, who made him laugh, who made him believe that there are people worth living for, like Selena, his best friend.

Just like each time he thought of Selena, he fell into an illusion in his head that revolved around her.

Selena- the young Texas girl with a slight southern accent, long, golden brown hair and slender arms- the girl you would want to spend your life with- always happy, joyful and cracked jokes without realising she did. She was tall and had a face that blushed like a rose at times, her dimples drilled into her cheeks when she smiled, her eyes gleamed like an orb and when she spoke words of fun and childishness spilled out. She was the daughter of a very busy script writer father and a fun loving mother who spent most of her time around the house and the remaining time with her beautiful daughter.

Selena’s father worked day and night for four years on a script. His perseverance paid off when he was called to Hollywood. Selena who had spent the previous five years in school with Brad was now leaving for Hollywood to find a new. The news shocked Brad. She was the only girl who made him happy, the only friend who was there when he needed someone, the only person who made him feel whole. She taught Brad how to live with a variety of perspectives.

He could remember the final moments with her in astonishing detail. Those moments, which he would cherish forever.

“Brad, dad’s made it to Hollywood... I am so excited... “, one could hear the excitement in her tone. Then she shrieked, “CALIFORNIA”.

“Good for you. I’ll...” Brad couldn’t say that he’d

miss her, instead he felt happy for her. “I feel happy for you. Let’s keep in touch...” he wanted to hug her and then break out. He didn’t withhold his emotions for he had none to show. He simply raised his right arm, fisted his fingers and then “Friends forever?”

“Forever and always”, Selena said with a smile, a blush, and a face with nothing but excitement.

She ran into the car that had been honking for a while. She was so excited about California that she even hi-fived the air.

Sometimes when we lose something we just cry until we feel light. But when we know we are going to lose something we savour it as much as possible. When you feel that you are losing something you feel a slight pain in your heart. Some might call this love but that’s not it- it’s but a small tear in the heart. You feel like that tiny portion of your heart has just been pricked by a thorn...

***

Angelina pranced back to her seat and only Brad’s eyes were fixed on her. Throughout the duration of the class he was thinking of her. Of Selena and of how much Angelina reminded him of her. The pain in the heart returned at times and he could not concentrate what was going on in class. When the bell rang, Brad packed up and hurled his back over his shoulders, “Dude, you coming or what?”

“Just give me a minute what’s the hurry?” Ric asked still trying to get his books into a packed bag. “What do you have next?”

“Chemistry”

Both of them went to their lockers. Ric had his locker opposite to that of Brad’s. Brad went close to his locker and entered the combination 6-1-6. The locker opened. Inside there was nothing but darkness. He emptied his bag into the locker, pasted some artwork onto the locker door and then closed it. Something dropped from the adjoining locker and he picked it up. It was a book on art.

He straightened himself and looked at the owner of the book. It was Angelina. At such close proximity she seemed very much like your normal average girl- boycut short hair, puppy dog eyes, one or two freckles here and there, and flawless skin, shorter

than him and a bit masculine.

“Um... this fell...” Brad groped around for words.

“Oh...thanks”, she replied in that bass tone of hers.

“...”

He was lost for words and could feel the queasiness in his chest. It was as though Selene had returned in a new avatar.

“I am Angelina”, she raised her hand as if to shake.

Brad shook it and it was as if there was a sudden inflow of great and amazing aura into his body. He saw Selena in every bit of her. “I am Brad....um...nice to meet you. Listen I have to run now... catch you later ...?”

He couldn’t stand it anymore he needed air ... he needed to breath, otherwise he would have been torn apart by that pain in the chest. It was as if someone had thrown a spear at his heart.

The final bell for the day rang and Brad saw Angelina no less than fifteen times that day but he never went to her and struck up a conversation; a mistake he would later regret. The day ended and everyone went back home; Brad and Ric followed their routine of going together. On the way Ric discussed about the first day and how it was no different from the previous years.

But Brad had a different opinion.

“Something about her is different, dude “

“Who?”

“Angelina...”

“The new girl? I didn’t see anything special in her she just looks like all the other girls in our class and besides she looks fat”

“She doesn’t’ look fat. She is fat”, Brad pointed out which made Ric erupt into laughter. “But I get a good aura from her...reminds me of Selena”

“I never knew much about Selena as much as you and the other guys knew”.

“Whatever it is I want her as a friend.”

“You want a friend from her...? Isn’t that kind of odd... I mean you make friends not want them and get them.”

“I know... but this time it’s different and I am going to find it a bit difficult. Unlike the other girls I can’t approach her that easily. She socialises very well. I saw her with a couple of friends just an hour ago. First I need to get an opening and then I have to make my move...”

“Dude she is just another girl. How hard would it be? Just go there and say ‘HI’”

“Right...well let’s see what life has to offer in the future.”

“Bye.”

“Want to play something now?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Throw some hoops?”

“Sure”

The day ended with two high school boys shooting hoops on a concrete floor in front of your normal average American house. The sun set in the west ending the day of two high school students whose life was on an infinite loop. The same thing, for the major part, everyday until the day ends.

As the days passed by, Brad’s urge to talk to her rose. He was waiting like a lion waiting for the most opportune moment to catch its prey. Angelina grew accustomed to the traditions and people in the school. She made friends like any other normal student would. Her friends followed her everywhere she went and this paraphernalia that followed her made it hard for Brad to make his move.

Since her locker was near his he could have made his move easily and just talked to her but his chest would not allow it. The pain kept him from doing that simple task. So he would not use his locker whenever she was around. She knew that Brad was looking at her at times but she never gave the creep look at him. Angelina came to know a lot of people Brad did but he wanted to go solo on this mission.

Days passed by and it seemed that the more she went away from Brad the more he wanted her as a

friend. His restlessness increased as he never had such a hard time talking to a girl before. Finally he resorted to something.

“Yo Margret...”he waved at a blonde that had a pony tail and freckled face.

“Wassup Brad” she hi-fived.

They had been friends for a long time. Selena had introduced Brad to Margret. She was a nice girl always helping a friend in need. Margret and Brad were supposed to do a project together. They went to the library together, talking on the way. The conversation had some giggles and some laughs and some blank faces. They separated in the library hunting for books that were required. Once they got the books they wanted, they came back and met up at a far corner of the library. They started to flip through the pages and began to do the project. In the course of time Brad asked, “You know that new girl...Angelina....right?”

“Yeah. She’s a good friend. Why do you ask?”

“Well...um...you’ve got her number? I wanted to talk to her but could not find time.”

“Um...”

“Please... it would be a great help, please”

Reluctantly she said yes and gave him Angelina’s number.

“Thank you so much.”

They resumed their work and Brad worked better with an elevated mind. He was going to make his move- smooth or rough – he would do it.

After class the students retired to their homes just as always. Brad went to the school ground to see the soccer practice. He held his mobile in his hand juggled it around a bit from one hand to the other, looked up at the heavens and made up his mind to message her!

He unlocked his cellular and typed: Hi...Watup?

The reply came sooner than expected: Who r u? Do I know you?

Brad: Maybe

Angelina: Who the hell r u?

Brad: The guy next to your locker...

Angelina: I don’t see neone

Brad: The locker near yours...

Angelina: k now I remember

Brad thought the ball was in his court. Now he could talk to her, mingle with her and finally get her as a friend. He was doing it. He kept on thinking “Damn Man... you did it”. That’s when the message alert in his phone went off.

Angelina: CREEP

YatharthChaturvedi Light thinks its the fastest of all things on earth....bt its wrong...it reaches everywhere only aftr darkness hs reached dere first.......

Prakriti Kodali Two blondes where driving to Disneyland, the sign said: Disneyland Left.. So they started crying and headed home

Tanmay Ze Shah CERN’s still searching for the God particle coz Robot hasnt released there yet.

Prasanna Giridhar This is how a linked list of exams looks like : 11->13->15->16->17->19->21->26->1->3->6->8->9->10->NULL

Pankaj Chhabra Facebook hi mandir hai, Zuckerberg hi Bhagwan hai ... hey bhagwan uthale humein bhi :P :P

Prerak Patel Who will laugh when you dye !!!!

Surya Tej Borra I dont want to say someone is best !!But i would like to say that everybody has something in them which can make them the best !!

Faisal Ahmad JUST DO IT!

Pradeep Damodara I asked my dad to get chocolates.He gave me a call and ‘snickered’.

Faisal Ahmad Innocence dissapears like dew in the sun

Vaibhav Annam My friend came to me and told, “I broke her heart and she broke my XBox” .. Now I am wondering who should have cried harder ?? :P :P :D

(The guy of course, ryt ?? :P)

Dikshit Goel Words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind...!!!

Shilp Vachhani and here we go......

Schitij Kulshrestha A college is a place where pebbles are polished and diamonds dimmed.

Shambhavi Mohan If vegetarians love animals so much, why do they eat all their food?

:P

Swagat Yadav True happiness is a combination of low expectations and insensitivity!