Dubai stories, Vacation Shitposting

“So now what?”

There are two friends from highschool (who shall be referred to as S.B and A.S respectively) who have always been bros. And as with all bros, we had/have our own fair share of experiences where we bro-ed out.

This is not one of those times (but also is?)

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Bromance can get weird man..

It started off as a road trip to Ras Al Khaimah, (picture beaches and shit)

Simple enough, we got our stuff packed, met up at the metro and then headed out,

A.S is the driver since he’s the only one who had a valid license, I’m shotgun, I needed to pick the music and occassionally be ready to use Maps. S.B was the back seat, he handles snacks and makes sure there’s some conversation happening. We’re talking about everything, catching up on life since we were meeting after our first year of college.

It’s all chill at this time except we had to come to terms that we were lost in a quarry…

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note the tractor and the general emptiness

But it was all okay, we had Google Maps, we got back on track after an encounter with some camels (encounter=almost reversing into a herd) and annoying S.B enough.

Before you knew it, we were at RAK.

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It was very chill indeed.

Such beauty, so much chill vibes, a really nice place-

So Now What?

I don’t know man

We aren’t heading back

Yeah….

Lets keep going

Yeah.

And that happened, we just kept going, hit a few more emirates and just going with whatever was happening,

I specifically remember:

  • Eating from a “restaurant” called Chicken Hut in the middle of nowhere.
  • A very very dark tunnel
  • Being tortured by Hindi Pop music
  • Debating playing heavy metal while parked near a mosque

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Fujairah had good vibes

But this was getting pretty pointless for something without a point.

We needed an ending point.

What we got was a phone call. It was a call from a friend who needed help. Here’s a rough idea.

Guys I’m stuck at Qudra, tires are stuck in sand

What were you doing there?

With a “friend”

k.

So now we had an aim, we needed to get to K.V(who also happened to be underage and in a position which would probably not good to be caught by cops in)

We move, we’re on the way to Qudra Lakes, a nice oasis out in the desert, its getting late though….

We’re also almost out of fuel, we needed to head back the way we came from because there isn’t a pump anyway on the way. We go back.

We grab fuel (and more fuel from McDonalds) and we get to him, and his “friend”.

They’re stuck.

We shovel some sand, try to get some things moving, rev up the car aaaand-

They’re still stuck.

A.S and I head out, we manage to find some people who were willing to pull the car out with buggies. We tell them where to go and they go.

We follow.

Car Stuck

The view was great, but the car was still stuck

 

We’re not following after a while.

The tire burst. At the entrance to the lake, we can’t change tires because the rims were changed and the tire no longer fits.

K.V leaves with his “friend”, they didn’t need to be stuck and had to deal with more shit.

(Ironically, they were legit caught by cops on the way back. They cool though)

We’re fucked.

yup.

You have the mat and more drinks?

yup.

So fucked.

So fucked.

So we set up a mat, some speakers, open up fizzy sugar water and put out a few calls and decide to just sit and wait it out.

Eventually we did get help and we did manage to make it back without any drastic measures.

It was not the best of experiences but it was one hell of an experience.

At the very least, the view was brilliant.

Qudra Road trip

Almost makes up for the 3 hours we were stranded
Rant, Vacation Shitposting

You Bored?

I certainly am. Are you?

In fact, I’m bored most of the time.

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(If you’re here, don’t deny it)

There’s probably a million things to do (and a few that I need to do) of which I am doing none. This is not a new thing either, it’s been pretty much the one constant thing in my life but funnily enough, that’s what keeps me going.

I look out for better shit to do, rather than the same bullshit I’d have to deal with, and while I may/may not do the shit that I find that I could do, the whole process of trying to find something to do is what lands me in most situations.

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Inner me pretty much everyday 

But the moment I decide to do something, I gotta be occupied (what a fucking surprise!) and that means less time to observe and more of actually doing stuff. Which is not all bad, in fact it might even be necessary, doing stuff (eating, breathing and moving in general, It miiight be important).

And the moment you start doing stuff is when you realize that you’d be much better off doing other stuff, getting me started on this whole loop again. So I’m back to being bored and I’m rapidly becoming under stimulated again.

So as much of an anti-boredom advocate I am,

Embrace being bored, thats when the weird shit starts to happen.

And if it doesn’t happen, you might as well make it happen.

Apartment Hassles, Vacation Shitposting

How I Cleaned My Apartment

I recently moved into my apartment, which is where I’m going to be spending the next two years of college. I can’t really tell you how it is considering I’ve spent most of my time outside it (thus the delay in posting, just wait, there’s more coming) but I can tell you that it has been pretty chill for the most part.

For the most part.

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Good Vibes and Better Coffee

I was having my coffee, to finish off a nice bowl of cereal. Staring out the window and distracting myself with my phone when suddenly, I hear a

CRACK, BAM WHOOOOOOSH.

Fuck. That was not a good combination of noises.

I look into the kitchen to see that my tap had decided to change ambitions, it wanted to be a fountain. Sadly, instead of projecting upwards, the water was being shot at an alarming rate horizontally.

I search on the floor (which was slowly becoming a kiddie pool) for tap, all the while trying not to get shot in the face by a streaming jet of water. I did find the tap, well most of it, I stuck the tap knob into the hole and it stopped.

It was done.

As I look around, assessing the damage, I hear a little shake.

CRACK, BAM, WHOOOOSH

fuck. again.

This time, I stand the plugging the tap, calling my caretaker frantically, he shows up, runs upstairs and turns off the water supply. He then proceeds to get a knub thing which was optimal for that situation.

It was actually done.

You might need a mop, he says. (should probably expect the water to be wet too…)

So as I start mopping away and thereby cleaning the place, I realized that there was a bright side to all this. Considering all my floor was covered in water, especially the kitchen. A lot the unexpected red dust suspended in the water seemed to make sense upon closer inspection.

I no longer have an ant problem.

Dubai stories, Vacation Shitposting

The Magician Phase

I like wasting my time A LOT. In fact, most of my time is spent wasting it (this in itself being one such thing) and the way I do this is by trying to pick up a lot of random skills/hobbies or by means of the internet. Most of the time, a lot of these hobbies show up when I’m definitely supposed to be doing something else but would rather be procrastinating productively.

Around 11th grade, during my midterms I was watching a David Blaine special and thought to myself,

I can definitely do this magic shit. How hard could it really be?

I had a lot of time (ignoring the exams, OBVIOUSLY) and just the right amount of cockiness to start working on a few basic card tricks that anyone could really pick up from youtube. It was nowhere near Blaine level but I could pick up enough of his basic tricks.

So now, I had a few tricks up my sleeve.

But what if I could do more?

Well, where do I start?

Google. Duh.

And so, started the magician phase. Before I realized, I had started to pirate videos(youtube had too many amateurs teaching badly), sometimes purchase a tutorial or two from websites for magicians and generally continue down my path of having no life while also being able to do sleight of hand.

Then came a sudden onset of ego. The realization struck me when I had people staring while I practiced in my free time on the metro.

I could probably use this shit to mess around with people. And that is exactly what I did, the most basic of tricks with the right amount of patter and bullshit explanations, getting those reactions which were very similar to those as seen on TV.

Eventually, I had a little following of people asking for tricks, loving whatever half assed one I would show them, fueling my ego, which while in itself was pretty satisfying, was paired with the fact that I could be a major asshole and it was apparently completely accepted and loved. I even got to shut down other asshole hecklers (like yours truly).

How could I possibly refuse that?

So, what started off as a way to kill a few minutes had now somehow become a major part of my life and actually resulted in a few cool incidents including but not limited to

  • Meeting David Blaine after his show and picking up a few tricks and a shawarma at Emirates Palace.(Even got a free deck because he thought my deck was absolute crap).

signed card

I got a card signed too, because why not?
  • Meeting an entire new set of friends(many of which are my closest today) as well as cunts (who are even bigger cunts now) who were also into magic.
  • Enough weird “magic” related incidents(which will show up on the blog soon enough).
  • Getting money and free food by doing “performances”(which all required minimal effort) including Dubai Comicon(which was probably the peak of my obsession).

All in all, it was a pretty solid skill that is pretty much inscribed into my head now.

A lot of people still only know me as the magician (which is sad considering that it really was just a phase) even in college. But as is the case with most of my obsessions, I moved on and no longer practice anything although I do still get asked for a trick every now and then.

I do oblige, as long as I got something on me that is.

And apparently, I still got it because the reactions are still fucking awesome. So if you’re ever curious, go ahead, ask me for a trick and I’ll ask you to pick a card. But keep in mind, I’m completely aware I’m not a good magician but that sure as hell won’t stop me.

P.S Click Here if you want to see an old cringey video of a little trick from back in the day.

Dubai stories, Vacation Shitposting

The One Time I Was Hit On

I’m bad at flirting.

Not bad in the conventional “saying-stupid-stuff-out-of-nervousness” or even the “too-oblivious-to-it” way. No. I’m shit in the sense where I genuinely appreciate flirting and would love to reciprocate (in some cases) but I hate doing it.

You see, being regular sort of bad where it’s the result of either being nervous, shy or unaware is common bad flirting which can work out in your favor because its just that, common. It’s a bit different when you’re stuck in my situation.

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accurate depiction of me in most scenarios

Don’t get me wrong though, I flirt, even if it may not be obvious(or maybe too obvious), I do try (given sufficient motivation) and I’ve missed out when it was aimed at me on several occasions but it rarely ever does work out in my favor. This is one of those cases where it worked out….

Sort of.

This happened when I was back in Dubai after my third semester of college. My weight has dropped, which pleased the parents but so had my grades to counteract those effects.  I was also too hairy for upper middle class Indian parents to not mention it once in a while (or every fucking second of every fucking day) but was on a mission to grow out the hair(which has begun again, but with more acceptance due to the lack of a thick beard). Eventually I caved and decided to head out for a haircut, but I didn’t want to go to the usual spot, I needed a new experience, needed seek out a new place, but above all, needed somewhere easier to walk to.

So there I was, at a self declared “trendy” hair saloon not too far from home, seated in a comfy leather chair where I’m greeted by a very immaculately dressed filipino man whose name he told me was Steve (or stheeeeve as he put it). He was to cut my hair that day.

Everything was going as expected, the regular crappy haircut that would lead to me getting IDed at every bar or club I would visit was in the making and eventually, after having enough of the silence, he decided it was time for small talk.

Now, I’m not a major fan of small talk but you don’t deny things to a man with a blade and easy access to your throat, so I obliged. It started with the usual stuff i.e. weather, life, how long have you been in Dubai etc. and then came a very offbeat compliment, nice hair, he said. Thanked him, didn’t think much of it. But then slowly, came more and more random compliments at increasingly shorter and shorter intervals. I was flattered but it was slightly weird for someone to fit into the typical gay dude stereotype that I had in my head unironically. Right?

Eventually I was offered a free hair and face wash. The inner mallu in me could not waste this opportunity. It was fair to say that he was very thorough with washing my scalp, with a little massage and everything.

But was he actually gay or just a very friendly barber? Probably not but if he was, I was definitely being hit on, but it wasn’t a bad thing to be perfectly honest.

And as he came to the end and started rinsing my hair. The conversation got to a point where he was showing me pictures of him and his ex to show me how he looked when he came to Dubai, also telling me he was gay in the process.

It was around now, when both our suspicions were confirmed. He was gay and I was definitely not. I guess I kinda led him on though.

Thanks for the free service Stheeeve but sadly, no homo.

Even though you gave me a haircut that made me look like a lesbian.

Vacation Shitposting

On Weight Loss

People are ready to do anything but diet and exercise to lose weight but those are the only two things that work.

Those words come out of my dads mouth every time we have a discussion(and by discussion, I mean, my father rants away about a topic that annoys him while I sit and take it in for the most part) about whatever new fad or craze is sweeping the globe with miraculous reports of weight loss approved by several men in white coats as the optimal thing that everyone should be doing, that is, until the next big thing. And it’s true for the most part.

I used to be a certified fat fuck having made my way into the dreaded status of “OBESE” because apparently, sitting on my ass was not enough exercise to burn the calories from the third snickers bar I had stuffed myself with in the past 2 hours wondering how the fuck I managed to make my grades and weight match, both hitting low 90s.

Feb 2011 ->From there to there->April 2017.jpg

Eventually though, I managed to get up and go move around(in a very slow but moderately determined manner, stopping occasionally to catch my breath),starting with jogging and eventually joining the gym and karate classes. They helped, and surprisingly, I realized that I actually did enjoy this particular form of sweaty torture and the very slight changes it brought about as a whole.

But soon, as I came into college, My real weight loss story began and it’s a very simple technique really.

DO MORE DRUGS!!!

It may possibly fuck up your entire life as it has with many others but it really does work in a few cases that I witnessed(by which I mean a few from my expansive circle of stoners and druggies) including mine.

It was more of the shift from occasional use to regular “self medication” (it works wonders with acute boredom, which made its appearance in college) that really brought about a sudden change.

With this new found lifestyle, regular, filling meals were a thing of the past. No longer would I have to worry about overeating because my appetite was absolutely destroyed.

Can’t eat? Smoke some more pot, you’ll get hungry

Ate too much? It’s okay, you will probably be throwing it up later.

Just so happens, drugs were my portion control. And this paired with a self destructive attitude to working out was my ideal weight loss routine.

But seriously, Don’t actually do drugs to lose weight because it can just as easily go the opposite route or just create another problem altogether.(There are some other perfectly good reasons to do drugs though)

But you don’t need to follow the fad and torture yourself with some shitty diet full of inedible crap or start on some unrealistic way-too-easy-to-be-true weight loss program because some good-looking fuckwad in brilliant shape on the internet tells you it’s a guaranteed shortcut to a sixpack.(Best shortcut to lose weight fast, amputation)

A diet shouldn’t be some spur of the moment thing that you pick up and put down after a while, its something that you need to stick with for your life.

Exercise doesn’t have to be a massive chore either, sometimes all it takes is just a little change up in your system whether its going for a walk, playing something or genuinely working the fuck out, whatever floats your boat (Unless your boat don’t float anymore because of your fat ass, in which case, move straight to the third option and embrace the fuck)

At the end of the day, I guess dad was right, exercise a bit and just cut down on food. It works.

P.S I’m nowhere near satisfied with where I am, so much more progress to be made…..

Vacation Shitposting

So, I guess I’m starting a blog…

Well, to be perfectly frank, this is my second attempt at starting a blog. I used to run one back in my high school cringe phase and I remember clearly trying to get it to spread (maybe like what happened in your situation, in which case, keep going, maybe it’ll get better?) and generally being able to kill time this way.

But as I got ready to start my college life, which was supposed to be a very hectic, study oriented yet interesting 4 years full of lively company, brilliant professors and the best of friends on the journey to discover my so-called passion-in-life, I decided I wouldn’t be able to keep the blog and shut it down.(Although losing my account details and forever loathing the cringe I put on there also played a role but more on that later). Eventually forgetting about its existence too.

Luckily(or unluckily, still can’t figure that out) it turns out that college was not at all what I had in mind and I ended up embracing the stoner life which, at the very least, continued to keep things interesting on a day to day basis and pretty much forming what has become “college life” here at NITC (that’s National Institute of Technology, Calicut or some random south indian engineering university for you outsiders)

But then suddenly, the vacations are here and there’s too much time to kill, too few people for company and just the right amount of laziness to not do something …..

*shudder* productive *shudder*

So here I am, with an attempt to hopefully commit to a method of killing time and surprisingly, here you are, for some reason….

Stick around though because the plan(which almost never works out) is to keep this one going for a while.