Conversations

the_g@l_i_just_met:
hmmm pensive..
it wnt do justice if i search for it
u shld search for it
wld be better
wld feel personal then


balls_of_steel:
I din't ask you to search for it.
Just in case, you come across such a picture.
By any chance.


the_g@l_i_just_met:
hau hela re baba (alright mate)


balls_of_steel:
I'm sorry. I think i'm being kinda difficult.


the_g@l_i_just_met:
nopes
i m good wid difficult ppl


balls_of_steel:
Diplomatic answer.


the_g@l_i_just_met:
no
i really am good wid difficult ppl
especially guys
was wid one for sever yrs u see


balls_of_steel:
Shut up. Not something you'd just joke about.
To a stranger like me.
You see.
He was ur guy re.


the_g@l_i_just_met:
m nt joking
he was a difficult guy
i mean very difficult to understand
n i loved that
i like difficult guys


balls_of_steel:
I think its better we not talk about this.
Like i said, you can nver really trust me.


the_g@l_i_just_met:
wat wld u do?
i mean wid this topic/


balls_of_steel:
I don't know.
Maybe i'm simply freaking out.
But i'm really sorry, if you find me odd at the moment.


the_g@l_i_just_met:
freak out?
why?
i mean
i dnt get it
why wld u freak out?


balls_of_steel:
Something just happened.


the_g@l_i_just_met:
wat happened?


balls_of_steel:
Will talk sometime about it. When i am saner.


the_g@l_i_just_met:
saner?
i thought u wr sane a few mins ago


balls_of_steel:
Few minutes seems to be a hell lot of a time, when you conversing on the phone with a gurl you used to date and talking simultaneously to another good frend on Facebook.
*used to date once


the_g@l_i_just_met:
oh
u wr on the phone?
wid ur ex?


balls_of_steel:
Ex, note xactly.
But ex's are bitches. Bigtime.
A confession.


the_g@l_i_just_met:
nt true
nt always
cmon


balls_of_steel:
I can't think much now.
My mind is jammed.
Its a long bad story re.


the_g@l_i_just_met:
kya hua re?
what she talk about?


balls_of_steel:
nothing. All bullcrap.
maybe, some guy dumped her of late.
And what am i.?
Spare wheel.?


the_g@l_i_just_met:
cmon
maybe she was just depressed
wanted smone she can trust to talk to
so she called you


balls_of_steel:
Tell you what.? For the record, She is not a nice lady.


the_g@l_i_just_met:
ok maybe i shldt comment whn i dnt knw her


balls_of_steel:
Or maybe i just hate her, unconditionally.
But to be honest
~ before she happened to me, Ex-Gfs used to be so much fun.
But not anymore.


the_g@l_i_just_met:
lolz
wats that supposed to mean


balls_of_steel:
I said na, bahut lamba story.
I'll tell you over coffee kal, maybe.


the_g@l_i_just_met:
hau (alright)
muh sunibi (I'm all ears)
How's your mood now?


balls_of_steel:
Yes. Metallicca helps.


the_g@l_i_just_met:
hmmm
sun i gtg offline
muh moh frnd lappy ru online thli (Been online from a friend's notebook)
i ll try to cm online
so unless i cm online again,
nite nite
sd
n peace to you.


balls_of_steel:
yes. I like peace.
good nite


--the_g@l_i_just_met has logged out. When the fuck will you? And oh, you can send an off-liner given that you are such a prick and such a dummy like the_g@l_i_used_to_date had told you, in the face. Yes, that bitch. Or so you assume. Now just try suppressing the involuntary frustration you have in you and stop stalking good girls under my nose. Please get a life you ass, for your own good. Your's truly, Chat Engine--

Phone a Friend

So, Miss Kapoor.. this is a certainly a moment that would define your life. Are you nervous?, the host orated with a impeccable, impressive baritone that sounded like that a angry young man's.
"Okay, Miss Naina Kapoor, there goes the 13th question. For Five crore rupees on your screen now.->

Which among these is known as the city of joy?


a. Calicut
b. Tuticorin
c. Calcut.... "

And she woke up all of a sudden, from a almost deep sleep. She had her head buried in her arms on the hot seat for the last twenty minutes or so. She could see production assistants running around the sound stage with continuity sheets and cola-cans. The PIC was shouting on the top of his voice on a mere gaffer boy to tighten the bolts of the boom rod. The game show host stood a few feet far away from the hot-seats discussing lines with the copy-writer. Her eyes at a sudden fell on the table below the host's 'Computerji' where lay a check of a 8-digit figure complete with initials of a signature which most of us bolly fanatics would kill for.
It was Mehboob Studios, Bombay. And Naina still pinched herself for she couldn't believe that she had made it into the 13th question, in actual.
The audience was gradually filling in the seats after the 5-min commercial break on National TV which in reality was a 30 minutes lunch break for the studio guys.

Two glasses of water and three minutes later, Naina was back to her normal self.
It had been a minute since the camera had started rolling and the audience had been clapping.

A while later.

"Okay, Miss Naina Kapoor, there goes the 13th question. For Five crore rupees on your screen now.->

With the binomial theorem in relation, what is it that appears on three vertices of an infinite Pascal triangle?


a. 22/7
b. Digit 0
c. Digit 1
d. a random recurring variable "


The game show host gave a deep, calculating expression after completing the question in a even more deeper baritone complemented with a usual panache.

She acted indifferent.
Now its time,she thought.
This is what she was waiting for.
And not giving him a chance to speak at all, she quipped, "Sir, i would like to use a lifeline."

The host- " Miss Kapoor. If i am not wrong, you happen to be a painter by profession. right?"

Naina- "Yes. I'm a student of vernacular arts, to be more specific."
That was in the most formal and trim manner she could make up of.

The Host- " So, at such a crucial point in the game and with four of the lifelines at your disposal, what would you choose? And for the record, this has happened for first time in the six year long history of this show."


Naina- "I wish to phone a friend."


To be Continued.

Of Raavan, Love and Periods

October the 17th, 2010 | 2100hrs.

"Cmon dude, accept it. My smoke is denser.", Abhi proclaimed with an audacious authority as he made circles of nicotine laced smoke from his mouth, courtesy the Milds, his tenth in the day.

"Grow up bitch. Stop acting like a Montessorri wannabe.," UC replied him  and they fought over whose smoke was  whatever-it-was. Duh.! In the midst of all this, i looked up the sky where the smoke from our fags wrestled along with the smoke from the burnt crackers that had a few moments back had taken the form of an impressive display of fireworks.

These very fireworks for a moment's time had painted the Bhubaneswar sky in such a exotic manner that it would have inspired Renoir or Picasso to pick the brush and hit the canvas. That beautiful is was. Or so i believed.

My eyes glanced upon one particular type of the fireworks, the 'chakri' (read: the spinning fire wheel). It at first started glowing and began to spin. When it was at its climax, it was shimmering like some swarovski crystal at its lordly best and then, it began to dim and flickered away like a light bulb on a low voltage power source. And darkness prevailed then onwards. I still don't get it of why this thing caught my attention, but i could pretty much relate this to the elements of  Love and Sex alike.

At first, love blossoms when the sparks fly, literally.Then, the sun is at its highest peak, like the lovers say which is in turn followed by a phase of Darkness with the cold dark moon for company. Well, this is what happens, generally.

I'd choose not to elaborate the same with Sex.

*grins*

Love is like a firecracker. Love is over-rated. This was one view, the three of us shared today. By this time, the conversation over hot pakodas had also shifted to this very topic." There are other things in life that are beautiful and as much inspiring as love is. But still, why is love the only thing cellular companies, Coffee-shops and the likes cash on.eh?", UC stated. "Look at Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin. Most of their lyrics are so intriguing and addicting, yet those lines got nothing to do with love.", he continued."Totally a point.Why the fuck can't Pankaj Udhas and his ass think the same way.? He is depressing me, officially", Abhi said as some typical emotionally-wrenching ghazal played from the loudspeakers. Me and UC looked at Abhi and had a laugh over it.

"Life is way too dramatic you see. If we mortals could afford to cut most of the drama in our respective scenes and strive to live in a more practical manner, life could could be so easy, so beautiful", i don't know who said this as i was busy gazing the fireworks but this line hit me home. I actually got this feeling that God was speaking himself, totally. Maybe it was Abhi, or UC.

"Jeez man!! The fire ain't getting up its crotch. Its stuck in its skirt. I think we must leave. Its late as well.", Abhi Complained.

"Maybe, our ten-headed guy is having his periods today. So he won't burn, i guess.", That was me.

"Now, How the eff do you guess that.?", UC gave me a dirty look with this.

"Oh, Cmon, he's wearing a giant pleated paper skirt with what seems to me like black Polka dots on pink. Don't you see that, macha.?", i replied.

"Bastardos, lets go home before god gets angry on this one.", this was Abhi who was ever complaining about reaching late at home.

Them Bastards

Once upon a time in the suburbs of a beautiful city called Bhubaneswar, lived a bunch of kids who called themselves the 'Mafia on Cycles'. Their targets included 'petty Ice-cream Wallahs', the uncles who sold Balloons - The heart shaped ones. Or the 'Bhaina' at the game parlor where they had a time of their lives playing the likes of Mortal Kombat and Re-coil. Those petty fights after the school they used to get in, for Pokemon tazos or those wrestling trump cards now seemed so childish and immature to them, but each one of them very well knew that this was the seed to something great and lovable, the undying friendship that would follow. They used to return their homes with bruised arms and knees and broken cycles, but on the contrary, the bond they developed between themselves had been deemed un-breakable. Together, they used to shout together those dirty slangs they had picked up at school in the summer evenings after a game of Cricket not caring about those colony uncles who would hear them. As time passed by, the cycles gave way to the Peps, the Dios and co. By this time, apart from the slangs, thick fog of smoke came out from their mouths that smelled tobacco. The tiny rascals had become big boys indeed. Period.
Words like Love, crush meant a whole new meaning for them now. Despite the fact that each of them wore different brands of underwear ranging from the stupid sounding 'Rupa' to the chic 'Puma undies', they had one thing, one fucking thing in common- At some point or the other they had felt for a girl. One of them was a born player, in formal words, they'd call him Casanova. He never fell in love with every girl around, it was the other way round. Sick fucktard, made me jealous at times. Gradually with the passage of time, some of em had break-ups, the Casanova did what he was best at, some just let go for they were bored, two of them were still stuck and were having a tough time on moving on and a last single bastard, the glorious and the most creative of the lot was simply confused of what he wanted. He assessed the girls in his life like stock options, where to invest, where to not. Errr sorry, 'whom to invest upon....' :P
Career wise and academically, most of them had a tough time in finishing school, the 12th grade. A few managed it and passed coolly, one of them failed badly. But the other bastards still stood by him, kept his spirits high and a year later, this tiger fought back and cleared his thing perfectly. The fact that they were now in different colleges and instis` was not a problem. They still kicked ass in town, together.
Cutting to the present, they made new friends and relationships and carefully chose the ones that they knew would last forever, probably. These bastards are indeed proud of what they are now and what they stand for. A poet, a semi-poet, a writer (probably), two photographers, a date doctor, two awe-frig-gin-some Joe Satriani-esque guitarists, a gifted foot-baller, one responsible guy ( he's the Man Friday most of the times when we end up screwing ourselves) and the perfect angry young man. Now that's what quite a many people would call a talented bunch o' individuals.
Love them, hate them, envy them. They won't give a give shit to it.
For they Love all and Rock all. Them Bastards.
Care for more, eh?

Re-fuel ->

He was badly drunk. His two-wheeler seemed to be bit slow for him, no matter how hard he twisted the accelerator. On the signal, he started spilling abuses on his vehicle in colloquial Odia, much to the fascination of the traffic around who tried hard to ignore him. Of course they coudn't.

Two hours ago, he, had puked three times.

When a cop at the signal approached him,he said, 'Good morning Uncle!', It was 8pm though. 'Today is my birthday, Isiliye thoda sa maar diya and got carried away. But you carry on sir, Nothing serious.' He handed him a neatly and symmetrically folded Rs.50 bill. The cop gave him a cursory glance and went away. He grinned.

Maybe i need to re-fuel up first, he thought. A kilo metre from the signal, His wet and Vodka laced watery eyes fell on a sign which read Indian Oil.  He drove in the pump, cut through the crowd which much to his amazement gave him way and right in front of a filling machine.
'Dui Liter bhaina. Plain...( Tank up to two liters mate..)'

The petrol bunk attendant, he was a young guy, probably around 13-14 years of age. He derived a expression on his face which was a potpourri of surprise,Amazement and Laughter.

Why wouldn't he be? after all, a very few people on a Yo-Bike come here, and it was this drunk guy today... :P

eMoTiOnAL AtTYacHAaRR...

"Faala(read-Saala:P)...aaji eve ta poora barbaad hei gala!!(buddy...dis evening was a waste)"...Patel said as he lit up another Davidoff.The strobe lasers behind the DJ's deck were flashing on our corner and the smoke from his cig reddened up which would have resembled blood if it ever had a gaseous state :P.Yes we were at Ten Downing Street....

A much awaited rock gig of the town had got delayed and this pissed us off, actually dissappointed us.Yes,a pretty known B-School of the country-XIM,had dissappointed us, ditched us officially. Who on the earth would like to watch a gig if you start the sound-check at 9:30pm,that too with two of the performing bands backing-off at the eleventh hour?OK,enough of the Journo stuff,coming to the point we were in no mood to wait.So we left ASAP.

Finally the five moody emotional bastards-Raan,Patel,Ahmed,Casanova,Moi headed towards TDS,that too on a friday-night which meant not a weekend,a bit cheap booze,shit music,no crowd...so eventually no legs and thighs as Raan lamented :(. As we entered the pub,we seemed like Gorrillas in Antartica. There 'actually' were no partying people out there.All i could see were a band of waiters who seemed unemployed, for the night.They were busy watching some stupid soap on a silver-bordered flat panel.Somebody should teach this people to not watch such stuff atleast on a TV like this,else i would send a few ninjas to shove off these people's as*#$, would love to actually. We chose a table and parked our asses. A group of who seemed like corporate people complete in their suit-boots sat on a far-end.They seemed pretty unstable,emotionally.All of them were actually crying in a sync(BOOZE WORKS WONDERS!!!). Imagine such people who run companies and stuff, whom other people envy and perceive as emotionally-challenged individuals were actually weeping.To me,it seemed like a the group of those senior-citizen uncles who sat at my neighbourbood park in the evenings talking about what new tantrums their daughters-in-law threw in,how their scheming sons used to cunningly sneak out their pension-books and draw out money,how soon would their medicines get over and stuff before breaking into a melancholy.

So where was I? yes TDS.Such sights worsened our moods.Being honest,the thought of these senior citizens aggravated mine.I was in my all time low maybe.Somebody among us started crying,don't rememeber who.I didn't care.(NO!!..of course,it wasn't me!!)

"Dude...whatever respect i had for XIM,i just lost it an hour ago.",Casanova said Patel as he took a sip of his Lemon-soda."Point...","So toh hai..", Me and Ahmed replied in reflex.Nobody had booze that night because we were not in a mood to.

Something needed to rescue us.....SOMETHING,SOMEBODY.

Then played a track called "Right Round->Flo-Rida|OST-The Hangover".All of us jumped off our chairs and headed towards the floor,our lemon soda glasses in our hands intact.It was just five of us there,yes we were the 'crowd' tonight, everyone's 'entertainment' tonight.The DJ had RESCUED us.A guy with his son,a 4-5 year old kid joined us.This kid a few minutes ago had snatched his dad's vodka peg and when denied,he started crying.It took his mother's all emotional strength(emotions again!!) to calm him down.Kids you know.

And all that it took to lift our spirits was this track.All the 5 of us love this track in particular and i guess i don't need to say anything about the movie.Ahmed has watched the movie a good 39 times.Still if i sound nuts to you people, please take the pain of you-tubing "The Hangover-Theaterical Trailer".One of my fav movies ever.Watch the teaser if you haven't yet...its worth every mb downloaded.

More emotions??Anyone??

Cheers To Life:Good Ol' Days

Venue- at the tarmac of the ruins of the old airport, Bhubaneswar
Date- Raan's B'day | Time- watch had stopped working :P

Raan finally was giving us guys a treat on his b'day, thanks to the mind games Patel had
played to convince him. The same evening,few hours later he was to board a flight to join his
bro out in Bangalore. So we had to decided to party out somewhere nearby. He had got his
backpack and it was the first time he was traveling alone.
"where's da booze?? Bring it on Bi-a-tch!!!!", Casanova exclaimed.
"Raha..patel must be on his way back", Baman da answered
Just then Patel called up on my cell.
patel-"hullo..aur kya laaoon?? KingCan six tho,do bottle smirnoff aur ek officer's choice ho
gaye. 100 bucks bach gaye."
me-"mere aur happy ke cigs?"
patel-"haan hai..pakode bhi laa diye, aur bolo.."
me-"bas ek matchbox laa le toh achha hoga, i don't have one"
me-"bedha!! thik hai..on my way". he hung up.
Meanwhile happy had started unpacking raan's backpack.A bottle of Deo, a pair of old
rugged jeans, sunglasses and then came a small packet with a pic of a really hot chick on it.
It read 'Moods-Ribbed'. All eyes were on Raan. Raan explained,"u know.. Bangalore got
really awesome girls, if i find one then this might help.u never know guys. :P"
me-"But you can always buy one out there na.."
Raan- yea i know mate..but anyways what do they call it in the local lingo?"
Baman da-" see now Bangalore is known as Bengaluru..so this may be turn out to be
'Protectionuru'??
"HAHAHAHAHAHHAHA!!"..both me and Happy laughed like demons from those hindu
mythological soaps. Raan just grinned. Casanova was on the phone.All this left Baman Da
confused. Perhaps he expected us to burst out laughing on this joke.

Meanwhile Patel had arrived with the Booze. After a bout of drinks, Casanova exclaimed-
"i treated her like a princess and she treated me like a slave..bitch she is. BEE-A-Tch she
is.." I guess he started crying by then.
Few moments later Raan consoled him,"shit happens..dude..move on"
"I may throw up any moment..urghh..", it was baman da. I in a jiffy grabbed out a pack of
napthalene balls, opened them and put it under his nose. Moments later he said"Thanx man,
I LOOUU UU.."

The scene was getting more and more sad. Someone needed to cheer them up. I stood and
said," Dude now that u are going southbound, i need you to get a dvd of this southie flick.
Don't remember its name though."
"In that case how the _|_ am i to get it??", Raan said.
Me-"wait i'll try singing a few lines of a song of that movie..maybe that would help...."
Patel jumped up-"Garam Chaa Dhaalidebi to muhaare.Telenga gita gaaiba salaa"
He said this pointing his Beer can on me.
Generally among our troop, Patel was known to be the one who used to retain the most
control even after all that booze.A tanker he was indeed. But now he was down.Tragedy.

Time flew away like the planes did. The ones that flew past us as we boozed(and i smoke).
Then Happy said it was already the check in time for Raan's flight. Five minutes later, we
were at domestic terminal of the airport(there is no international one FYI). Everyone bade
goodbye to him.
Happy- "Dude..have a awesome time out there."
Patel and Baman da-" BANG BANG IN BANGALORE DUDE!!!"
Me-" Play it safe mate....only if you have to"
Casanova-"Haaaapi B'day dude"(full talli)

After all this we returned homes.

An hour later my cell beeped to a text message from Raan.

"At home now, was heavy on alcohol,they
had a test done. Grounded me. btw dey askd
for a guardian's no.,gave yours. do the
needful f dey cal up. Yea i board my flight
day after tomorrow, so kal phir peene chalte
hai..same place same time..aww alc rocks dude!!!"


This is a work of fiction....Just inspired by true events,

,and an ode to my homies and the great times that we had together.

Cheers folks!

Cheers to Life!!

O pardesi....o pardesi!!!
meetha sa chadha hai bukhar....

The song played away as Patel opened up another pint of smirnoff. Everyone raised up their glasses. It was an evening to remember.Had to be. The location of the party was just perfect. 3kms off NH5 towards left, On the sun-kissed sand beds of the River Kua-khai.The sand carrying trucks had just left. We had parked our bikes back at the bank. The road as almost 300 meter from the bank. We had our bikes grounded( parked them without the stand) so that we could be not noticeable to the PCRs who used patrol the road. It was around a quarter to six.It was teh time of sunset. Nobody was on a high, even after a round of drinks. Suddenly sambalpooriya stood up and addressed -" salla nai chadhe...edkum gol re baskini piba..mast chadhiba." Meanwhile me and Ahmed had finished another pack of cigs(we don't drink na) with a bit of help from Baman da and Happy. Happy's eyes seemed red through his glasses.I guess he had his thing raw. Giving a childlike innocent smile he started off singing "dola re...dola re..". Now it was official, One guy was on a high. Sambalpooriya and Baman da stripped off their shirts and said patel"aaa--aame maan--ee ga--gadhei jaa-uchu." hell they wanted to have a bath in the river.WTF!. Ahmed exclaimed- "Sam! bag sey ek neembu kaat ke laa". Yes we felt baman bhai and sambalpooriya needed it.They were heavily drunk.
Suddenly Raan took off his tee and threw it in the air. It landed a bit far away. He exclaimed-"Run Hara!! Run!!!". Another soldier of our troop, Mr.Harish sprinted behind the shirt.Patel ran behind Hara. After all this Run fun affair got over, we started eating. We had got a plenty of Pakodas back from CRP square.Ahmed and me jumped on the packet of pakodas. We were dead hungry since an hour or so and with the cigs around, it just aggravated the hunger. The song that was playing now-

"maahi ve..mohabata....mangda naseeba.....kismet k maare..asi ki kariye."

Raan then started crying. Missing his girl perhaps.The song started casting its spell. It took 3 guys(eh! men) and 15 mins to get him back to life. Then we realised that it was around 8pm. Hell. Baman da's cell which was playing the music stopped and started buzzing. "SSHH..BOPPA KA PHONE HAI". he said. He had a 5 mins talk and then we left the place in no time.On the way back on the highway, one could see Raan and me singing-

"LADY HEAR ME TONIGHT, CUZ MY LOVE IS JUST SO RIGHT......
AND I KNOW THAT IS TRUE, I CAN TELL BY THE LOOK IN UR EYES"


This is a work of fiction....Just inspired by true events,

,and an ode to my homies and the great times that we had together.

Cheers folks!

Doggie's Day Out!

"And we have a new star in the field..", the commentator announced during the seventh over of the inaugural match of IPL2 between the Mumbai Indians and the Chennai Super Kings.

It wasn't a bollywood star, nor an ex-cricketer, IT WAS A FOX-HOUND! Yes you heard it right, a dog was on the loose on the field during the ongoing match. It was seen strolling around Dhoni who's known to be a dog lover(he has two back at home), yet he failed to shoo the dog away off the field. A security official came in with a piece of sandwich to woo the thing but it was way smart for him to handle. He ate the sandwich and went back to the field again. This resulted in a comic relief in the midst of a Nail biting Drama. The broadcasters got their much needed ad-space. A rival broadcaster on its news channel claimed that this was a TRP Boosting exercise by SET. Wtf!. When asked, Jonty Rhodes(Coach, MI) said,"this isn't my doggie" :P. The world audience watched with sheer joy as the dog was enjoying his 15 minutes of fame.

As they say~"Every Dog Has Its Day"

RAJNI-CAN"T???

came across this article recently on a magazine. wanted to share this with u people...funny na?? :P
PS- do take the pain to click on the image to get a better view of the article...its worth it.

The Homework

Its been a long time since my last post. this post is just a filler. here is how the story goes.
today in the afternoon buddy Raan calls up and says that he is stuck up with his school assignments and he wants me to finish up his assignment in English. poor guy, he is already stuck up with other subjects, fuck English. So my inner soul felt a pity on him and i took up to finish the assignment for him.
now here is how the question goes...
"write a description of a new wrist watch/wall clock/camera/bicycle that you have brought last week"

now this sounds something really interesting. its been ages since i have written such a thing. i did it last in std.8th i guess. so u can say I'm pretty out of touch in this part. never mind it folks if u get bored in the mid of the paragraph or if i suck @ writing such stuff.And now time for the answer.

My respect for art has grown leaps and bounds in the last few days. especially I'm much of in love with photography and digital art. I feel there is a story in each and every photograph that i see.
for the last few weeks, i went on a clicking spree with my cell-phone camera which i seldom used before. mom was really surprised to see this side of me as i was one of those lazy nothing-to-do types. On a better part she was much impressed after i showed her the photographs that i clicked.even friends after seeing my photography gave rave reviews.i guess i had this latent talent inside me.So finally mom got me a digital camera as a birthday gift. it is a canon ixus camera of 7.2 mega pixels. pretty cool stuff. it has auto focus, a good flash and best part is its design which is really appealing. i started clicking pics with it and i am continuing to do so. the pictures with this camera are coming out much better.

@ raan- dude i guess this is much for a five marks question.Its more than 100 words(yes i put a count too). U can add some more technical points to it if you want to impress upon your teacher. hope this helps.

@ all- that's all folks :P.