Oranges are the thrill-seekers and daredevils of
the aura spectrum. They love the challenge and
excitement of physical danger. They love to
challenge their environment and go beyond any
accepted physical limits.
What Is Your True Aura Colour?
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Where did it all begin? Most would attribute Charles Babbage, a squiggly old guy who looks like Whistler’s mom without the cape, with the nobel idea of inventing the box. Some would call Ada Lovelace (what ho, babe? ooooh behaaave!), the Mother of modern computing. Sometimes I wonder what the kids would look like if Cabbage and Lace-woman had gotten married. A few theories put the blame on the ancient Chinese to have unassumingly hinted at faster computations with their cool, beady wireframe-y calculators. Still time travelling further into the past, we see this Middle Eastern dude, with a very complicated name, coming up with the fundae of algorithms (my favorite subject throughout CS…although one almost flunked in it!) Abu Abdullah Muhammad bin Musa al-Khwarizmi (whew!) did a lot of mambojambo in a lot of fields before he found his true calling and wrote a book called Hisab o Jabr o Muqabele (sexy name dontcha think?)
Well…I hope that has caught your attention. My posts hardly gather much attention unless I garnish it with some unnecessary trivia like that. But not digressing from the crux of the matter, I want to sketch out the progress of the Biege Box through the past few decades. Right from the time IBM put it into the high profile university labs, till today, when we have employees spilling coffee onto their laptops while opening a “Fwd:” sent by a friend in an unsuccessful attempt to surf single handedly 
(Eeewww…gross)
Have you been endowed with a taste for good music? And by good I don’t mean exactly Engelbert or Sinatra or M S Subbulaxmi, God bless their souls. Not even Ozzy or Hendrix or anyone remotely to do with modern popular music with sympathy for the devil. I mean are you gifted with the endurance to sustain the typhoonic, kami-kaze’ish, sweep-you-off-your-feet-grab-you-by-the-mind-and -whisk-you-about-leaving-you-dazed-n-confused glory of hindi phillum mujheek. I am not even fazed by the dhak-chik beats and meaningless lyrics of today. In fact some songs are far better than a few examples I am about to quote from yore. Was going through some pages of like-minded individuals, however enlightened enough to quote them on their cozy homepages and blogs. I hereby present to you the rare gems that emerged from the studios of legends such as the one and only Bhappi-da.
The author doesn’t take responsibility for any accidents, murders or divorces arising out of this blogpost
Peace out!
Having nightmares because your driving leaves behind a body count worse than the Chernobyl Disaster? Do you drive like an 80-year old lady with a distended bladder and has had astigmatism since she was 3 and who’s gulped down a couple of Mickey Finns with 5 Tequila shots for lunch? Afraid you might be at a loss for words when the “Ossyfer” flashes his torch and asks you for your license and registration before coaxing in the Breath-alyzer?
Fear not. Just use one of these tailor-made excuses that I’ve been working on:
And if you feel embarassed about using such lengthy sentences in daily conversation then read my lips.
DON’T DRINK AND DRIVE!!!
I’ve always prided myself on the fact that I’ve never been in an accident (car or bike) nor been apprehended by cops for violating any rules. But as I went through a blog post by Salil I was taken back to my 2nd year of Engineering. It was a beautiful April evening. The sky was clear (just as I like it) and I was returning from the gym. Quite unassumingly I took a left turn on a “No Free Left” turn near Simla Office. For the uninitiated this is where Pune’s weather people churn out their forecasts. The cop stared at me through bloodshot eyes, obviously induced by misdirected smoke from the puff of his beedi. I had no money on me so he asked me for my licence which I earnestly handed over, knowing fully that it was an expired Learners’ Licence. He put it in his pocket and told me to get some cash. I pleaded with him, to keep my licence safely and drove off lamenting the loss of a perfectly re-usable passport sized photo. And that is how my friends, the West was won. Or some such shiz!
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