Are you sure.

I had promised to myself that I will not blog about this, but now I don't find any reason to escape it. I hope this would serve as my mark of respect for the two friends I miss having around. We were returning to our campus after a Section A dinner party, when Kunal told me that Nitesh and Neha were missing since evening. Neha Singh, Nitesh Aggarwal , Kunal Gaurav and Vishal Kaushal had went for an outing to Choral. What we got to know was that they were missing and their phones could not be reached. I was unabashedly telling others they must have wandered here and there and would return soon. Their phones were unreachable since evening, that was not a cause of worry, I thought, because Choral was out of cellular network coverage. So I had everything to believe that we would hear from them soon. The moment I reached the campus and walked towards the mess, scenes became more serious. Roshin met me in front of the mess and told me that they were missing and a meeting has been called.

Life is silly. It comes back at you. I always have loved driving on Delhi roads. I can't stand the traffic in front of me drooling. I always try to find a way to the front. This is my idea of being a leader. I like to overtake other vehicles. By doing so I am able to prove that I am better than 'you'. I find it satisfying. I do this usually during my trip from college to home. I overtake cars, I do it one after the another. I do my overtaking for 40 kilometers. For 1 hour. I tend to believe I am winning. I believe I am now able to beat the very people who gave me ideas on how to drive a car. It's my accomplishment. I had loved someone. I had pursued her for many years. I showed my full dedication to her for many years. And all that while she had considered me only a friend. But still I felt different for her. I always let her know that what I felt for her. I always felt I was leading her. I was leading her in our relationship. I always thought I loved her more. I had al

This is just going to hurt a little bit - Ogden Nash One thing I like less than most things is sitting in a dentist chair with my mouth wide open. And that I will never have to do it again is a hope that I am against hope hopen. Because some tortures are physical and some are mental, But the one that is both is dental. It is hard to be self-possessed With your jaw digging into your chest. So hard to retain your calm When your fingernails are making serious alterations in your life line or love line or some other important line in your palm; So hard to give your usual effect of cheery benignity When you know your position is one of the two or three in life most lacking in dignity. And your mouth is like a section of road that is being worked on. And it is all cluttered up with stone crushers and concrete mixers and drills and steam rollers and there isn't a nerve in your head that you aren't being irked on. Oh, some people are unfortunate enough to be strung up by thumbs. A

There are 54 potholes before the van reaches good road from the airport. The driver is driving slow thinking we have just touched down in Bangalore from some village in Bihar . He thinks that high speed will scare us to death. Anyway, there are two months for me to criticize a city many love. So I settle down in my hostel room at Indian Institute of Management Bangalore. The room has a cot that is deployed in many hospital wards. I have seen the same bed in prison cells in western television shows. This jail cell has Internet. The one we used in 1998. Yes, 'the click and go to Goa and come back to see the page loading' Internet. We are told that is because the network is being repaired. We get a raw deal at a very very mature institute. The campus is fabulously green though. The hostels are a maze. And I love the climate. About the food, I don't bother. I just fill up. But there is a restaurant just outside the gate, Status. This restaurant is any manager's heaven. TQM