Way of the ninja !!

The blonde haired kid with the forehead protector of Konoha glared across the table defiantly at the frightening visage of the Nine Tailed Interviewer. The young warrior clenched his teeth and managed to mutter "I DARE YOU TO..." in a manner befitting a more matured action star. He then shut his eyes and said Kagebunshin-nojutsu and replicated himself ten times over.
"Very well, worthless Genin, ... draw the pin diagram of an 8085 microprocessor !!!". All the blonde kids [completely overawed] stared open mouthed at the lone monster. And then a pathetic, demoralized look overcame all his faces. He closed his eyes, as if to escape to an alternate reality where there was no placement-hona-jutsu. And then his eyes opened, fiery red, and he shouted at the grinning monster, "I will not give up !!! NEVER !! That is my way of the ninja !"

My body, completely unaccustomed to the unholy alliance of a humid weather and a full sleeved synthetic formal shirt (albeit with a drenched vest) was protesting vociferously by making the faltering fan above seem as useless as my presence in that room. This room was chock full of other recently formalized specimens like me, who didn't seem to be enjoying their newly discovered wardrobe either. The quest for roti, kapda aur makan had begun. Most of the people there, had already faltered at the first step, and were eager to make quick amends, which in turn made them fidgety, hyperactive, introspective, etc. Me...I did what I do best: I dozed off (only slept 3 hours because of Naruto) and had a dream quickie described briefly in the 1st paragraph...the second obvious influence was z0mb1e's experience with the interview. I woke up in a state of minor panic, but I needn't have worried. I was called in over two hours later. My misery was finally put to an end a further 100 minutes later, when I saw my name protruding conspicuously in a list under the heading "NOT RECOMMENDED" ( for what?? Work? How'd they know?). I was too bloody relieved to start caring about the nature of the result.
Morals for the day:
#1 Qubex (A piece of crap that floats around in cyberspace calling itself an online exam software) certifies a college as cheat if over ninety percent of the examinees prove that it and the question bank it's hiding is obsolete)
#2 Do not do nightouts before exams/interviews watching almost a dozen episodes of Naruto

Luckily, another employer the next day thought otherwise, and after much drama (ask Steve, Prats, Kunal or Gary) and I am employed (atleast on paper) now. (I wonder what the people not selected in the interviews, did wrong? Or what I did right for that matter? ). Oh well, Episode #144, here I come!

War of the Worlds : Earth vs Sky

Yes, yes I know people will say the ending was bad, the script was erratic etc, etc. The only thing I learned from this experience was that playing peek-a-boo with wanton rain-devils, when they are trying to drown your city with an incessant deluge, is as futile as trying to fight one of the omnipresent tripods (in the flick) with your willpower.

After being confined to our rooms by yesterday's hydro-invasion, I thought that today might provide at least momentary respite. Momentary and how! It was enough to lure me and other unfortunate adventurers/swimmers/scuba divers to wade our way to the nearest multiplex (if required). To lure the bait further, there was a solitary auto-rickshaw begging our occupation. So in we went, to glorious City Pulse with the substandard sound system, and a n00b in the projection room, to witness Spielberg's earth-shaking retort to the Lucas Leviathan of the previous month. Summer blockbuster here we come.

Except for the fact, that the movie had Tom Cruise and a script very loosely based on the 1898 classic. And yes, a very loose script it was. Spielberg did his customary shenanigans for the under 8 age group, who weren't allowed in anyway (ref Peek-a-boo scene). Where was the terror of the hunting raptor in Jurassic Park That was not hide and seek. That was an edge-of-the-seat fight for survival from a natural predator. Here, the technologically advanced predator, unless inclined to playing human games, was really being shown to be excessively naive in his choice of hunting equipment (a tentacle with an eye for a mouth! jeez Jackson's Sauron must be laughing his ring off...uhh...that's another story). But the most depressing thing about the movie was not all this. Yes, I can hear people screaming at me for trying to cut up a Spielberg summer box-office flick with the knife of logic and common sense. But hey, it ain't my fault! He allowed me too. Independence Day, a fantasy in the same league, (probably and deservedly a bigger grosser), was so fast-paced, action-packed and filled with dollops of style (read Will Smith) that you hardly ever got a chance to notice some very glaring flaws. If you did, you could choose to ignore them and keep pace with the action. Here, we're forced to witness a hollow story of reconciliation between Cruise & Fanning. Some people call it the human part of the story, the Spielberg touch (in the Midas mold). Well, I guess he was wearing gloves or something, because it didn't click with me.

Anyhow, I went to see the movie for its SFX, not really for much else. And this is the where the disappoint comes, folks. They were spectacular (nothing less to be expected with the whopping $135M budget), but they all caused serious deja vu after the award winning trailers! The movie had its moments, but unfortunately, most of them were available for download for free from Apple's cart of trailers. Suffice to say, that there wasn't much else besides crashed, mutilated, or burning specimens of housing and transportation. There was a cameo from Tim Robbins, whose character seemed to have been thrust upon our already manhandled protagonists, forever blissful in the company of their solitude (what?). Then there was the son. Oh boy! Not talking more: no spoilers here.

So there I was, having skipped decent "Sarkar" for the monstrous dud of a summer blockbuster, thinking I had atleast beaten the rain. The trap was set. Rain began pouring and the auto-rickshaws had vanished. Fearing the worst, we decided to return ASAP lest we were stranded till the arrival of choppers. It was a choice between walking on a wet street, or waiting and swimming later. Having no formal training in the latter, I decided to walk, getting soaked in the relentless downpour. To my excessive consternation, the moment I reached near college, a caravan of three eompty autos went past us. And to make a mockery of it all: the final straw, the rain stopped (not weakened...STOPPED as in red fuckin light...as in Monsoon my foot!) when we reached the shade. I shook off my dejection to play Counter-Strike. I got owned to the last frag. Good bye, Friday. This movie's having no sequels.