Inject The Venom

Ivan Drago. A fictional character from the Rocky world though he may have been, was still a mountain of a man. A man who is remembered for two things. 1- he got his arse handed to him on a platter by an old , washed out leftie named Rocky balboa. 2- He took insane amounts of nutritional supplements.

Nobody normally remembers the guy who comes in 2^nd place. Sports, as such, is driven by records. It’s a race, a fight, even a battle at times, to be the best of the best.

Sadly, when grit and determination just isn’t enough, sportsmen athletes turn to performance enhancing drugs.

Cheating, you say? Perhaps not. Unethical , for sure. Sports is a dirty arena. Everybody knows that. It’s been like that since the Olympics( the old ones) . Competitors would try to get their rival teams intoxicated, just so that they would not be in any position to compete during the actual event. In more recent times, broken glass would be scattered on the road used by long distance runners or cyclists, just to slow them down.

But that’s all passé. Welcome to the 21^st century. In sports, anything goes.

One can’t blame the athletes entirely though. Yes, we’ve already established that he wants to win for the glory and the fame. But you must also consider the outside pressure. Spectators want a good show. They want something unbelievable. Something that cannot be replicated at home. One would expect things would have changed since the era of gladiators. But the sad truth is, that nothing has. People want to be entertained. They want their money’s worth. And it’s up to the athletes to deliver.

Then again, it’s not always the athletes who are to be blamed. In the most recent doping scandal in India, some of the athletes claim that while they had been given un named supplements, they had no idea that they were illegal. In these cases, it’s the sporting authorities who are to answer. It’s not unheard of though. In countries like Russia, athletes are used as scapegoats. When the country itself is forcing their athletes to cross that thin moral line, then it’s rather hypocritical of the government to disgrace the athletes as well when the shit hits the fan (proverbially). It now becomes a contest of pride. Peaceful combat between countries if you will.

And don’t for a second believe that these athletes lives will remain the same. Not from the public abuse. Not from the shame. But from the drugs themselves, which ravage their bodies to a point that eventually, all they can do is pray for death to come swiftly.

There are innumerable facts to back up claims that these drugs can, in the long run, kill the users. But let’s leave the facts aside. Perhaps look at it from a moral point of view.

Should taking supplements be illegal? That depends, of course, on whether you want a good show. If you don’t , go ahead. Ban the stuff. It’s not going to stop countries from wanting the gold. It hasn’t really stopped countries like China in the past either. Or you could blur the lines a bit, turn a blind eye to what’s going on, and get entertained when the team you root for wins.

It all boils down to one simple question in the end-

“How badly do you want to win?”

Addicted to Chaos

“The man was on his knees, begging for mercy. We were inside a tent, somewhere in the desert. Beside the man lay weapons. Guns of all sorts. They were useless to him now. After all, what he could he do with them. We’d already cut off both his arms just a few hours ago. Blood flowed through open wounds, like rivulets that eventually meet in a pool at his knees.

I looked into his eyes. They were bloodshot, all the fight had left him hours ago. That defiance with which he had glared at me earlier had been replaced ……with fear. It was then that I felt the rush. It invigorated me, consumed me. With a slight grin on my face, I picked up the knife and walked towards him. This was going to be fun”

A jostle from behind brought me out of my reverie. How careless of me! I’d started daydream. Granted, one couldn’t expect much better after being 48 hours. But then again, I couldn’t afford to lose my focus now. After all the planning, we were finally here. I had a mission to complete. Sleep was secondary.

I walked through those crowded streets of Mumbai. I couldn’t have asked for a better location. People milled all around me. Each one going about his own business. Hordes of people crowded around the jewellery stores. Gems shone at me from every direction. Every shop had rows upon rows of carefully designed gold bangles, each one different from the next. On display were some of the most beautiful emerald and sapphire necklaces I had ever seen. Truly an amazing sight. Who would have thought that these crowded lanes would be the centre for most of this pathetic country’s gems trade. But then again, I didn’t particularly care. I wasn’t here for the jewels. I was here for more important business.

I took a look at my reflection in one of the store’s windows. I had to admit. The disguise was pretty good. It’s amazing what a shave, haircut, dye and a pair of glasses could do for you. My own parents wouldn’t have recognized me. Perfect.

Wearing a sweaty shirt and pants, holding onto a battered briefcase, I looked just like the hundreds of business executives, tired after a hard day’s work. In fact, there was one right beside me, buying jewellery for his wife or girlfriend. The only difference was that my briefcase didn’t contain memos or papers. Just the simplest of bombs. A glance at my watch told me all I needed to know. I had five minutes to plant the bomb, and another 5 to get out of there.

And then suddenly I was back in the tent. An old memory. It had been over a year ago. Volunteers were needed for probably the most dangerous mission we had undertaken since 2008. Attacking that city ….again. I remember standing up from among the crowd gathered there. And I had not looked back since.

Thankfully, I was brought back to my senses almost immediately. I did have to thank the fools around me. They had, inadvertently, spurred me on.What drove me to join this mission….terror. Not my own. Terror in the eyes of these hapless people who would soon be lying on the ground, screaming incoherently . I could already picture all the blood. In just a few minutes, all these beautifully lit stores would be reduced to nothing but a pile of rubble. As for the people around me. Oh, that would be my reward. They would be strewn all over, blood spurting from open wounds. And I would rejoice.

I already knew how it would pan out. In a few minutes, the abandoned briefcase would blow, hurtling people across the street. While entertaining, the gore would not be enough for me. It was after the blast that the fun would begin. For over five minutes after the blast, their senses would be disrupted. In such a crowded street, it could only mean one thing. Complete and utter pandemonium. And then the stampede would begin.

Chaos truly is a strange thing. All these men and women around me were chatting happily to each other. Shopkeepers chatting amongst each other, bemoaning the recent rise in gold prices. Children begging their parents to buy them candy from the vendor at the corner.In just a few minutes, they would be running over each other, trying to survive. A phenomenon so savage and yet so beautiful, that at times I lose my breath just thinking about it.

I chided myself for daydreaming again. This wasn’t the time. I made my way to one of the largest and most crowded shops in the area. This place had been picked as the target less than a week ago by our recon team. They had picked well. One suitcase in all this rush would not be noticed. I pushed my way to one of the counters, and slipped the briefcase beside it. I looked at my watch. I had 5 minutes to get out of there. Right on time.

Though a tad difficult, I managed to slip out of the shop, and made my way out to the main street.
It was then that I felt a hand slip into my pocket. I had been warned that this place was notorious for its pickpockets. Even then, I was furious that someone would try to rob me .If only they knew who they were dealing with.

I turned quickly and grasped the hand, making sure that the thief couldn’t get away. The wallet in there was inconsequential. It was empty anyway. But still, I wanted to take a look at the fool.

It was a young boy, no more than 14. His black eyes stared back at me with a mixture of fear and defiance. If I weren’t on a deadline, I would drag this boy to an empty street corner and give him a piece of my mind. I still could perhaps break a finger or two right there to prove a point. My judgement got the better of me though. I had to leave. Anyway, this boy would be in the blast zone. He wasn’t going to survive the blast anyway. I could enjoy his death then. Letting his hand go, I said in a low voice” I’ll let you go this once. Don’t let me catch you again” A look of relief crossed his face, and then he ran away. The fool,

I made my way up to the terrace of one of the buildings in the area. I was going to witness something wonderful. And then, just as I looked down on the streets, it happened. I felt alive.

Chaos is a chain reaction.

Disclaimer: The article written is a fictitious and therefore, probably untrue representation of the events that occurred in Bombay on 13^th July 2011. The author does not sympathize with or condone the acts of those behind the attacks.

Diabolical Imperious Evil

As addictions go, this was a rather strange one. After all, how could he explain to his friends that he was addicted to a person? To Her.

His daily routine, for the better part of three years included the following. Get up. Think of her. Go for class. Stare at her. Sleep. Dream of her.

It took him almost a year to figure out that he was , in fact, suffering from an addiction. The cruellest kind. Even an alcoholic could never get enough satisfaction from the booze, but even then, he had something. In this case, all he had was a mirage of her; not the real thing itself. After all, they were just friends.

She wasn’t someone you would normally pick out of a crowd. She wasn’t a showstopper by any imagination. At times, one might even be hard pressed to notice her. It had taken him a month on campus to notice she even existed! In one moment however, he was hooked.

It was the smile that caught his eye the first time. He could still remember the first time he saw her smile. Her lips curled ever so slightly, and then gently parted to reveal the perfect white teeth that shone in the sun. Not a promiscuous smile, but one that could make his heart melt. When she noticed that she was being watched, she came over and spoke to him. And it was the sweetest thing he had ever heard.

The next few years essentially flew by in a haze. He remembered nothing of the wild parties, the study sessions, the ragging of the juniors, the movies. No, all the remembered was her. A girl , who in a single smile, managed to captivate him.

He didn’t believe it at first. After careful observation though, he realized that it was true. She was truly evil. Behind that seemingly innocent smile and bright eyes, lay a mastermind. A puppet master, gently tugging at the strings so that the planets realigned just the way she wanted them to. Every move was carefully planned. Just when things seemed to slip away from her, she would put on that smile . That captivating smile that could break the defences of even the strongest man, reducing him to putty in her hands. And then it struck him. He too had been casually played by her. She had been using him for ages, taking just what she needed. And when was done, she would toss him away to the wayside.

On one fine day, he decided that he had had enough. Her betrayal was too strong for him to stomach anymore. This time, he would go to her and tell her it was over. He was sick of being used.

He called her up immediately, asking her to meet him at the lawns outside the mess. As he made his way to the spot, he felt strong, confident, even immune to her. Soon it would be over.

She stood waiting right where he had asked her to. And as he reached her, she smiled. And then he was trapped yet again, in a maze from which there would be no return this time.

Disclaimer: The above article is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any girl, living or dead, is co-incidental. If however, you do know someone resembling her, do yourself a favour. Run for your life.

The Thing That Should Not Be

There are moments in your life when you read the most ridiculous of Facebook statuses, and you decide to play it safe; when you graciously comment “ Nice J “ ,even when every fibre of your body is willing you to type, “ Dude, WTF is wrong with you?” . A moment when you decide to take the morally high ground, and refuse to spend your time berating such hapless fools.

Obviously, this is not going to be one of those moments.

Yes, this is a hate rant. No, this is not an attack on those ‘patriotic citizens’ who decide to share links stating that our national anthem was voted the best in the world. This isn’t even for the ones who post “best brother week” statuses every month or so. No, this one is for the ones who actually believe they precious statuses are witty and life changing( not unlike my views of this blog). Believe me, these ARE real statuses.

1- 1- “lazy”

You managed to drag your ass all the way to your laptop, open up Facebook, and then have the gall to type ‘lazy’ ???

2- 2- “sad…”

It wasn’t “I’m so sad because” or “It’s so sad that” ( not that it would have much much of a difference, but if you are going to come up with lame statuses, at least try to be grammatically correct!) . But no, you had to go with sad *dot* *dot* *dot* ( did I mention this guy’s GMAT score was over 700?)

3- 3-“after 3 dayz of searching.... finally got my acco.... nd its \m/ J”

As a metal head, I take offense to that. Your acco was \m/ ?? Seriously? The Devil’s Horns? I wonder if you’ll be smiling when they get stuck up your ass. ( for further information of why not to use \m/ , check out Instain Noodles…the link’s around here somewhere) . Don’t even get me started on the ‘dayz’ bit of it.

4- 4- “Is disappointed after hp7! so many good scenes cut out! now u pls dont disappoint me breaking dawn :( “

A Twihard. Need I say more?

5- 5- “ive successfully tanned my elbows”

Trust me, there are more difficult places to get a tan. Figure them out and then boast.

6- 6- “I want the older version of chat box back!!!”

Oh, don’t worry. I’m sure Mark Zuckerburg will be right on it. After all, if YOU say that the old chat box is to brought back, who is he to deny you?

7- 7- “katy perry is coming to seattle....and performing live at Key arena....this is the biggest thing in my life after the Luke Skywalker vs Darth Vader fight”

I know it might be hard to digest, but a guy posted this. A 20 year old guy, born 8 years AFTER the Luke Skywalker vs Darth Vader fight. And seriously? You picked that over Anakin vs Obi Wan / Obi Wan vs Darth Maul?

8- 8- “How does one get a kitten?”

(I go against my better judgement by posting this, but What the hell :P )

Idiot.

Step 1- Get a job. Or an internship that gives stipend

Step 2- Get at least 25k a month from said internship

Step 3- Use said money to pay for said kitten

9- 9- “I love my new haircut”

And I love my new Swiss Army knife. Care to come out and play?

10- 10-“WTF was i thinking?”

Let’s look at this closely. The fact that you managed to put this up as a status, goes against the belief that you were, in fact, thinking. ( I apologize, I couldn’t come up with anything stupider than that L )

11- 11-“ZMND. Finally made me realise that Zindagi Milegi Na Dobara. J”

You figured that out NOW? Honestly, if your parents had learnt that the easiest way to teach kids morals was to show them movies involving hunks with six-packs and curvy babes, growing up would have been so frikking awesome!! ( all because of the latter mind you).

12- 12- “Muffins”

Respect. Mixed with hatred. Since I was forced to read this while eating corn flakes. L

Am I irrational. Perhaps. Am I full of disgust at the sight of these statuses. Definitely. Will I take the post down if you beg me to? Too right I won’t.

P.S- This should serve as a Disclaimer of sorts. The statuses mentioned above, while seemingly real, are fake. True Story.The author is not responsible for any hurt sentiments or the like. If you truly believe that one of these statuses IS actually yours, then good news. Looks like there’s two of you in this world. Hurray! If you don’t like the way your statuses have been used, PLEASE go onto Facebook and share the link of the blog, defaming it as you will. You might be doing something valuable with your time finally. Also, the author would not mind it. As long as he gets the blog hits. If on the other hand, you DO actually like it, please go and share it all the same. For reasons mentioned above.

P.P.S – Pretty Please?

P.P.P.S – This is being written by the person sitting beside the author while the article was being written. The Author read the line above and realized it sounded rather gay. In shock and horror, he killed himself. Those reading this, feel free to go “ There There”

Breaking news- Indian Housewife sues Maria Sharapova- claims she made her go deaf

An Indian housewife has recently caused ripples in the media world by filing a lawsuit against the Scream Queen of tennis-Maria Sharapova, claiming that the latter’s screams were the reason she recently went deaf.

The Russian tennis player and model is known not only for her fashion sense and her playing style, but also for her loud and occasionally shrill screams. Screams, which have been recorded to be louder than the noise made by a jet! (True story…no, really!).

In her lawsuit, Prerna Das claims that the Russian beauty’s scream was so loud, that it actually ruptured her ear drums, leading to permanent deafness. Intrigued, NTMN sent one of its reporters to get some finer details of the issue.

Says the NTMN reporter- “ When we reached the house of the Mrs. Das , there was chaos all around. Family members had gathered to support her in her cause. Being a quintessential TV-serial loving housewife, she had much support from her neighbors and friends. On hearing( metaphorically that is) that reporters had come to interview her, Mrs. Das seemed thrilled. So thrilled in fact, that the loudness of her voice almost made US go deaf!”

After donning a pair of earmuffs, this is what the reporter gleaned-

Says(note: screamed ) Mrs. Das - Oh, I just love watching reruns of old TV serials on Star Plus. It was just after dinner and one of my neighbor friends told me that they were screening an episode of Kyun Ki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi. There was no way I was going to miss that! It had been so many years since I had seen Smriti Irani don the role of Tulsi!! I was not going to miss it.

Interjects her husband Mihir (yes, the reporter thankfully took off the earmuffs)- You should have seen her that night. She was actually giddy with joy. I haven’t seen her that happy since Tulsi returned from the dead in the serial. Even our 25^th wedding anniversary party didn’t excite her this much.

Silencing her husband, Mrs. Das continued – “Of course, my lovely cable man made up a whole mess of the channels. Imagine my surprise when instead of seeing Tulsi’s great great grandson hatching a plan to kill her, I see this tall foreigner in skimpy clothes running around playing some version of cricket. ‘He Ram’, I could have had a heart attack! I wanted to see chaste Indian women in saris, and I’m forced to see this foreigner wearing a short skirt!!! What has society come to?

Then, just as I was about to change the channel, she started screaming!! ‘He Bhagwan’, it was so loud. I felt like all the glass ware in the house was about to shatter. The next thing I know, my ear started spurting blood!! It hurt so much. My husband and son took me to the hospital after 15 minutes.
The doctors there informed us that there was no way of restoring my hearing capabilities!!” Saying this, she burst into tears. It took her son close to half an hour to calm her down.

In the meantime, over tea and biscuits, her husband informed us that it was his idea to file a suit against Sharapova. On one hand, his wife deserved some compensation for the hurt she has undergone. He said,” How can she enjoy her favorite TV serials now? What will she do all day?? Also, think about me!! She used to scream at me everyday when I got back from work. Now it will only get worse!!!”

On asking his son Rajiv why it had taken up to 15 minutes before they took his mother to the hospital, he replied bluntly “ A model is running around in a short skirt! What do you expect me to do? Switch off the TV?”

As of yet, there has been no reply from Sharapova’s team. Rumors have it that since she is too busy practicing for the Wimbledon Championships, which she has not won in 7 years now. Whatever be the reason, her opponents would be glad if she were forced to stop screaming on court.

Disclaimer: The above article is completely false. While there is a 23% probability of it happening, Sharapova has never been the cause for any person going deaf. Over 42,000 Indian housewives do suffer hearing problems every year due to loud, and practically meaningless TV serials. Also, 83% of all statistics are made up on the spot. True story.

Eye Of The Beholder

You stand and watch, because frankly there isn’t much else for you to do. Not for wont of caring.

No, the caring bit was made clear in as many words. But apart from reasserting such bold and foolish feelings, you can do nothing. In front of you sits one whom you truly pity. She puts on a mask to face to the world. So that they believe that all is well in her kingdom.

But you know otherwise. Of the plethora of people she has encountered in her short span on this

treacherous world, you happen to be one of the few who has managed to get past the barrier to her mind. One of the few who has breached it's inner sanctum. One of the few who have witnessed the scars- the testament to the battles that have occurred in that hallowed mind. Either by luck or by design, you truly comprehend what happens behind that façade

Beneath that mask hides a broken woman. A woman whose spirits have been torn to pieces . One who has seen the dangerous side of the one who deals all the cards . A woman who lost a battle with fate itself.

Was it fate perhaps, that decided to wrench her heart and soul from her? More importantly, does she blame Fate? You cannot tell. Breaking the barrier of her mind is one thing. Being able to understand every strain of thought that goes through it is another.

You keep watching…waiting… hoping that soon, she will give you a signal. And then, just as the

eagle swoops down on its prey from the sky, you too would descend upon her. Not to break her

further, but to pick up the pieces of her soul . A soul that.. once whole…now lies shattered .

But no such signal arrives. She would not want you to. Left to her own devices, she would fight the battle alone, rather than face the embarrassment of having to depend on one to do it for him. But she cannot ignore your presence forever. So she gets up, and looks you straight in the eye.

The sight in front of you stuns you into silence and leaves you speechless. The eyes that stare back at you are dead; devoid of any feeling. And for once, you feel afraid. Of the deadened creature that now stands in front of you. Dead eyes that see no future. Which is what scares you the most. When the psyche feels nothing at all, is there any hope for her? Is there anything left apart from an empty shell now? They say time heals all… but does it? You have living proof in front of you that time….destroys …

But no! Wait…could it be? Perhaps……yes! Perhaps your fear has truly shown on your

face…for what you witnessed now could not have been imaginary. A glimmer of….life..

And as you keep staring…the light grows slightly brighter.. And you realize…it was your presence; your doing nothing but standing there, had actually mattered. That glimmer…existed because of you alone. It had not been her mind winning the battle…it had been yours.

So you keep standing there…looking straight ahead at her…and you watch as a hint of a smile

crosses that scarred countenance. And as you open your mouth to speak, she shakes his head,

gesturing you to stay with her in silence…and you acquiesce.

In the Street

The moment that we( team LTGTR) decided we were going to do a retro issue, I knew I simply HAD to write a review on That 70's Show. Call it absolute boredom , or the fact that the actors are so freaking brilliant ( Mila Kunis .... *sighs*) or perhaps the fact that for the past week, I'd done nothing except watch episodes of this very sitcom, but I doubt the reasons for writing it are as important as the review itself, so here goes nothing-

Created by ...... All right, I'll admit. I've no clue who really created it. Once again, it hardly matters! On the surface, That '70s Show appears to be a straightforward sitcom with a penchant for the occasional dream sequence or other bits of high concept fluff. But if you truly pay attention, you'll find a rather established cultural outlook to it. The show essentially parodies the 1970's, probably one of the most controversial times in the United States-- energy crises, the resignation of Nixon, the end of the Vietnam war, Star wars and of course, the disastrous perms, bell bottomed jeans and disco balls ( which are actually kind of cool, I’ll admit).

However, what truly brought the show alive was the brilliant acting by the main cast members . The show is set in the fictional Point Place, located in the state of Wisconsin. It revolves around Eric Foreman (Topher Grace-the guy who played Venom in Spiderman 3!), who is 17 and obsessing about the same things that all boys that age think about: beer, cars, and girls(not necessarily in that order), and who better to dampen his mood than a Communist-hating Vietnam veteran for a father, and a well-meaning alcoholic nurse for a mother! Throw in his promiscuous sister( who 'got around' with pretty much every guy in town) and you have a perfectly dysfunctional family.

Of course..ONE crazy family just isn't enough. Enter Eric's next door neighbor/ best friend/ girlfriend Donna , a feisty redhead feminist, who ,by all indications, can kick pretty much anyone's ass. Oddly enough, she's saddled with a couple of parents who are trying WAY too hard to be ‘hip’. Bob and Midge are the butt of most jokes, including a running gag about Bob's afro, which destroys the credibly of the very look that Hendrix popularized( a fact made clear to Bob repeatedly!)

Also included in the show are the characters of Hyde, Michael Kelso, Jackie and Fez. Hyde is a smart-alecky, Led- Zeppelin loving, wannabe hippie who sees government conspiracies in everything. This is probably due to the fact that he supplies most of the weed to the group and is almost permanently high. Michael Kelso ( played by Ashton Kutcher) is a rather dim, though well meaning playboy who eventually becomes a cop( and gets thrown into jail himself half the time). Jackie( yes, finally, Mila Kunis!), is a spoiled and snobby little rich kid who believes the world revolves around her. Where would any show be without the stereotyped foreigner! Fez fill this spot on the show; he’s a foreign exchange student with a strong Hispanic accent, a hair fetish, and a rather voyeuristic nature.

The plot itself is fairly lightweight, but certainly gets the job done. The show describes the daily lives of these kids- hanging out in a basement, smoking up every chance they get, stealing beers, and, if time ever permits, attending school. I could go on praising this show forever, but some things are better left unsaid, so I will end it on this note

What makes this show really appealing? Strip the show of its crazy jokes, the marijuana sessions, it’s rather caustic view of the government, and you're left with a show about teens trying to find some meaning in their lives-a sentiment shared by almost everybody our age. Definitely a must watch for... well, everybody.