"The best way to say goodbye"

The last few days have been eventful.
Work, but most importantly the Mumbai terror.
Amongst the hard-times that i've spent-this has been very different. 1st starting with an acquaintance trapped in Taj (she's safe now). Then the media trying to create havoc-the politicians finding a platform to increase their airtime (scums on the surface, roaches from inside).

I have not been able to sleep properly, a surprising thing for a lazy guy that sleeps 10 hrs on a busy day. The entire seat for power and influence was targeted by the cowards. Taj & Trident. The essence of the free "Mumbai-ian will" was hijacked. Leopold. The elements of social fabric was disrupted. Innocents were killed.

I can feel simmering anger within me. I hope this is the same with all Indians. Nothing to write about-all to feel. Politicians are leeches and will suck their way to winning a few more votes, eating through a few more money we tax-payers pay. Its time.

Is it going to be just another Mufti Mohammed Sayeed ( Rubiya Sayeed) or Jaswant Singh (airplane) or Sivaraj Patil (Afzal Guru)?? Time will tell.
Its time that the people rise. To the situations that we face.
While the politicians are provided with X's, Y's and Z's, innocents face the bullets. They should all be tied down with tonnes of rocks to their feet and thrown down the deepest abyss so that the "scums & roaches" are eliminated. terminated. forgotten.

No more dirty hate-politics and violence. No more communal riots fired by cd's. No more scams. But who will rise? More politicians. More roaches. More scums. Yes. We will have to be more aware. Rise. Wake up.

The best way to say good-bye is wake-up from the slumber we all are in.

Of sleepy days and work.

Sorry fellow netizens, who search for porn and land up on my blog instead, I have not been regular. My promise to blog every day is going down the dumps.
Reason/Excuse 1: Busy with work. 2. Office internet sucks. 3. Boss.

But, things seem to be working out as complex theories and sinuous ways of accounting help maraud the budgets for our launch. Cant promise everyday posts but will try to be regular.


Expressions. 26th Nov, 2008

1. Miss log distance relationships.
pro -- No quitting smoking! Ever!
con -- Right when you begin checking out that babe, she calls & proceeds to guilt the shit out of you.

2. Yaaawn.. dont want to get up. Its 10 already-Office started an hour ago. Fuck it. Im sleeping more.

3. Juice. Pineapple Juice for breakfast. Straight from the tetrapack. No clean glasses.

4. Mis-spelt "Akarshak" & "Bhala"

5. Looking for a millionaire single babe. Dont want to work anymore. Hotness not reqd.

6. I have been winking at colleagues. The response veers from great amusement to heartbreaking indifference.

7. SCREW U!!

8. How much patience should I have; should i wait some more or call-up my super-boss and get his permission? Darn. He dsnt pick my calls.

9. Bosses. Sleep eludes.

10. Launch in a 3 days. No creative. No hoardings. No cable scroll. Main aur Hindustan ki Tanhai.

Personality Dis-order test (!)

During NMIMS days, to make a mockery of my HR professor, I went through the personality Disorder test @ http://www.4degreez.com/misc/personality_disorder_test.mv
The results:

Disorder | Rating
Paranoid: Very High
Schizoid: Low
Schizotypal: High
Antisocial: Low
Borderline: Moderate
Histrionic: Very High
Narcissistic: High
Avoidant: Moderate
Dependent: Moderate
Obsessive-Compulsive: Moderate

And to think I always imagined myself to be a complete AntiSocial…..

Seriously though I think the fact that I took the test and am spending time writing about it should in itself constitute some personality disorder . I hope that i've grown out of it by now.

Rats

**Written yesterday nite. Posted today**

I had a run in with a rat just today. By 'rat' I meant a real rat - not a hidden informant with the enemies. Anyway, I have a zero tolerance policy towards rats. They are small, hideous, 'mouse'tached and scary.

My trouser spotted the rat first. It was lazily surveying the rodent thinking whether it needs to get into a cheese-sharing arrangement with the animal. This is when my eyes spotted it-my hands & feet were the ones who raised the alarm.

Soon my hotel manager and I joined the hunt. This manager had a reputation of being a 'rat-slayer'. He used to tell tales of the many rats he killed in his youth. Conveniently, all this alleged rat murders happened before I was born - so we have no ways to verify his claims. Also I dont know how the rats have evolved.

Together, we soon drew our battle plans - I was aerial reconnaissance. I was to get on the bed+chair and try to spot the rodent. Before long, we concluded that it was hiding under a bunch of used undies. Armed with this intelligence, we began the concussion bombing. That is, we threw books at it. (the good ones like Chacha Chowdhary, Nandan, Pinki and Billoo)

When sustained bombing did not produce the intended result, we turned to incendiary bombs. We lit a few old newspapers and dropped it on the hiding place. Don’t worry about the newspaper - it was Times of India. Burning is the best use for that publication - perhaps even the only use.

After a few minutes, the rat decided that the current location was too ‘hot’. It beat a strategic retreat to another location. We tried following it - but it slipped through our defenses. There is a network of underground tunnels under our house that all rats share. Once it gets into any of these caves, the chances of catching it approaches zero fast. So we decided to give up the search.

We are waiting for it to release a video footage from one of its underground bunkers to the media, electronic media, newspapers cant print videos.

Prayer in the time of recession.

I thank you Almighty for my daily journey to reach my workplace. I humbly accept the daily duty of punching in minimum ten hours of attendance into the online system. I graciously accept all work that unpretentiously lands into my mailbox at precisely 6:30 in the evening. I also graciously accept all the review comments from my subordinates, bosses and unrelated people, time and time again, which usually translates into a lot of rework. I also wait in anticipation of the feedback to the work I send across to Delhi head-office.

I accept with a gourmet’s delight the weird menu that is served day in and day out in my office cafeteria, even if it means chewing on the little stone in my rice, or having the lentil salad that reeks, or the custard that is yellow colored water. I politely accept all criticism from my boss at the mid-stint assessment discussion, hoping for a rating of “Met Expectations.” I eagerly complete all online certification, and participate in surveys and quizzes as a generous contribution to organization-wide activities. I fulfill all my responsibilities and duties without an iota of expectation from the annual appraisal.

I gladly accept my fate as an management trainee, because I have so much to thank for in these times of recession. I thank the Almighty for bestowing me with a job.

India TV rocks!! Part 2

CP-ed from http://stupidindiatv.blogspot.com/

India TV is my favorite TV channel. Officially. Broad-casted and etched.
Another classic.

HEADLINES.........
Aadha Insaan Bolega
Aadha Insaan Chalega
(I just hope the speaking part is not done by the bottom half of the man)

Now the Story...

Oh my God.. They have finally done it. They found me!

I stay in a hotel.... not a mahal.. (atleast they rhyme)

oh!!! thank god its about somebody else
Nice footage. Looks real.

oonchi diwaren???
well!!! No Ghana Jungle and Pathreele Raste this time????
No Humnein koodi saari baadhayein??

Tum phir bhagwan ko beech me le aaye!@%$%

Vishnu's Avtaar at Babylon????


Oonchi Deewaren.... again. Bhoot??


Kalyug Vs Satyug
Empirical analysis!!

What a Comparison?

I guess IndiaTV's next story would be about
China's Dragon or UK's Unicorn

lol......
They comment just Anything...!!!!

Trying very hard to relate with Hiranyakashyap
where Babylon has got nothing to do with that...

if you can see them... or find them in the rubble...

I think they can also make sensational stories with
Phoenix of Sphinx subjects!!!!

@%^@ Like Ek sing wala rakshas **%$%$*

Thanks for the red circle!!

India TV rocks!

"Commissioner ka Kutta"
25th March ko hua tha lapata...
AWESOME!!!
Such news HAS to go on air LIVE !
Might be Al-Quaida has kidnapped has dog; maybe the Aliens abducted to check whether it is the higher mammal or humans?






"Pyaaz maangne-waali chudail ka aatank"

This is a really terrifying news-item. Im too scared to talk about it now.














"Kapde churaane waala bhoot"

Scary gets scarier.. Even i think that a couple of my undies are missing. Just wonder what does the bhoot does with them. Maybe its a Dhobi-Bhoot. He washes them to satisfy his carnal pleasure.







"Shararti Langur"
Are monkeys supposed to be docile? Is this Dog the Commissioner's Dog??

Maybe this monkey is linked to Al-Quaida..

Allahabad

Allahabad is an awesome city, (only if your heart beats at 10 beats an hour and you can wait an eternity).
Things just change on the road. Its just the opposite. Bicycles, Bikes, tempos, suaars and cars coming in all directions. Cycle guys drive faster than Lance Armstrong, rushing past the crossroads as if they are driving a Hummer H3. Invincible. But that's just the roads.
For an impatient person like me, who cant wait more than 3 secs for a reply, Allahabad is teaching me a lot. People sludge towards their desks, like a teenage tortoise who just had a knee-replacement surgery; Confused whether he should make the first move or the table will reciprocate.
All that is results now is that I come to office at 10 AM and return back home by 7 PM. Very lenient timings. Difficult to adapt to, if you have been working 15 hrs in Mumbai.

But this is the good part.
The bad part begins when i reach back at my hotel; btw i'm staying in a hotel for my 3 months, till the time i'm here, only because 1. I was too lazy 2. Who would discover a mattress in this city/town/village 3. I was too lazy.
However, only Music Bhojpuri, India TV and News 24 make my day. They make me laugh. A lot.

A few examples.

To strike a balance between high tech modernization and astronomical calculations Sant Shiromani brings you GURUMANTRA with value added remedies of common ailments, foretelling future from Panchaang, and AAJ KA UPAAY. A perfect way to kick start your day.

Introducing you to your horoscope and numerological fortune, the proficient astrologer Acharya Indu Praksh reveals the connection between your celestial mechanics and the terrestrial dynamics. This daily dose of ‘Bhavishyavani’ aims to give you practical solutions to all your problems.Just dial 0120 – 2517251 and make a refreshing start to know your stars, just a phone call away.

‘Jai Shani Maharaj’ is a weekly show in which viewers get a chance to interact with proficient astrologer Dati Madan Maharaj Rajasthani Ji over telephone and get the solutions for Shani’s impact on their life. Just dial 0120 – 251 7 251.

Another 'India TV special' post coming-up.

PS: In the meantime India screw-up Englands good start. Another win Dhoni Bhaiyya.

Who are we?

Estee Martin had written, "Identity is the theft of the self"
Regular blog readers (i know of none) will all agree that they disagree. Identity, however is a complex business. I was reading a TOI edit-piece. It talked about how in the West a whole industry of race is built. Obama's armpit hair would have stood up when the Italian PM called him "suntanned". Call a man 'coloured' and you will end up losing those millions, if you have it. If you dont-you are still screwed.

People, families migrate and their identity gets fractured. But again a choice of cultures is available for you to adapt. To fracture your identity may be painful; but it can be profoundly rewarding as well. Now you no longer think of yourself as a single, unified object, but as multiple, sometimes conflicting perspectives.

So who are we? We, Young India do not see race as a defining characteristic. Its just one of the factors that make Him/Her. We do not downgrade the importance of culture and ethnicity-we simply play it down.
So are we? A colour? A gender? Whoever or Whatever we are-I can proudly say that we (minus the leaders harping on saffron politics) are dignified people. Even the Dalit that doesnt have anything to eat tonite is better-off than the blonde who spends a grand on toe-nails. Literally.

Diwali

Allahabad is the most rocking place, all across the world. (I'm trying to be at my sarcastic best). Super HOT babes (Mutated frogs actually). Awesomely intelligent pan-waalas (ask for a Classic Milds and you are handed over a pan). Supremely helpful animals (the cow's horn is always points towards your behind)

But this is not what im talking about. This Diwali I had a reason to get away from this AWESOME place. 2 days of respite from mutated frogs, dumbasses, and horny cows.

I had gone to meet Dadaji in Rajasthan. A small village, 100 kms from Jaipur. Im not telling you the name of the place coz it just doesnt matter.

I normally am a non-cracker guy. (Im not fattu at all). Eco-friendly guy you know.
But this time ideologies were changing, i brought with me a huge collection of Allahabadi crackers. (Finally 1 nice thing about this place)

The pic on the right indicates that I had distributed all of it to the kids. Joy. I call it. Pure smoky Joy.

Stud Boy !

I think I am real cool stud boy. I have at least 5-6 pretty girls calling me every week.
These girls are pretty and are gifted with sweet, seductive voice.
Actually, let me be open with you. I don’t know if these girls are pretty, but they do sound pretty pretty. Not that it matters, but in terms of setting a twisted man’s World right… visual aid is second only to humanitarian aid.

These girls would call me almost every day and ask if I was ready. That is, if I was ready to use their services. When they say services, they meant nothing but credit cards. And I am sure your slimy, corrupted mind would have imagined a hundred naughty things.

(I still am liking the way this entry sounds)

Here is how I spoke to the first lady who was trying to sell me a credit card –

(This is when i'm new in Allahabad. I was a rookie in the world of conmen, bluff, cheats, criminals, double-crossers, dupes, frauds, grafters and swindlers-Bhaiyya Land)

She: Hi, am I speaking to Mr Saurabh Sharma?
Me: Yes, please.
She: Sir, I am calling from ICICI Credit cards, and we have this no-yearly-fee offer for HT Employees.
Me: Credit cards? Hm….

(I was in a state of shock. I never believed I would one day own a credit card. I thought it was for the cool guys..and I was nowhere close).

She: Sir, this offer is valid only till this month end. And I would suggest you go for it right away.

(She addressing me as ‘Sir’ in every sentence was getting to my head. I don’t get addressed by that title every day)

Me: That was so nice of you to take the trouble to inform me about this offer. What favour can I do for you in return?
She: Nothing sir, this is plain social work.

(She would then ask me my CTC and blah blah)

She: Sir, We can offer you a Titanium card. Also, if you have a picture of yours …we could use it on the credit card.
Me: That would be great. I really like you. Thanks a lot for doing so much for me. Perhaps, we could meet somewhere and get to know each other better.

(I was under the impression that she was doing all this for me because she was in love with me and wanted to impress me. I asked her out because I thought it was a man’s responsibility)

She: Sir, we could meet after you get your card.
Me: Sure we can. And could I ask you a favor …please, don’t address me as ‘Sir.’
She: Sure Saurabh. So I will send one of my executives with the application form.

In a day’s time an executive from the Bank came and in a few days time, I would get my new Titanium Credit card. (already have 2, but felt like my first)

My dream girl never called after that. I tried calling the number from where she had called me, but a giggling girl would tell me that Radha (that was her name) had quit her job.

As days went by and I recovered from a bout of Devdas-sickness, I started going to office. Almost immediately, I started getting many more such calls from ‘pretty’ girls and soon I forgot my heartthrob Radha.

While I felt happy that so many girls were taking interest in me…to this day…I fail to understand why they all shy away from meeting me! That's what Bhaiyya-Land is I guess.

PS: I sent the card to my sister. She blew off 70 grand of my hard-earned money on silly things that hang from her ears & wrapped around her neck. Idiot! Titanium Card. I just hope my bank balance was also as hard as the name.

Mithun Da rocks!!

While browsing and cleaning crap on gmail i came across this amazing forward.
Almost fell off my chair in office.

Enjoy the collection of Mithun's Chakraborty's hit dialogues.

” mera naam hai suraj, truck driver suraj”

” Bheegi hui cigrette , jal nahi sakti ”
“or yeh tay hai ki teri maut ki tarikh tal nahi sakti ”

‘.. naam hai Sankar .. aur hoon mein Gunda No. 1′

“Apuun ka naam hai HEERA,
Apuun ne sab ko Cheera…”

kala shetty: “ye kaun hai be tu?”
Mithun da: “mai hun tum jaise logon ki nafarat karne wala, garibon ke liye jyoti, gundon ke liye jwala. Tujhe banake maut ka niwala, tere sineme gaad dunga mai maut ka bhala. dekh lenga salaa tereko.”

kyunki ab mein Indrajeet nahi……chandaal hoon
tum chaho toh mera program note karlo
..tum sab meri diary mein mar chuke ho!
mein chahoo toh tum sabko abhi mar sakta hoon
magar abhi maarne se tumhe maarne ka credit meri bullet ko mil jayega!!!!

Main hoon Do Numbri, ek se jyaada, teen se kam
Dikhne mein bevda, bhaagne mein ghoda, aur maarne mein hathoda

Mantriji:- “Ye kanch bullretproof hai.
tum mujhe chu bhi nahi sakte”

Mithun Da:-”Ye kanch bulletproof hai magar patthhar proof nahi”
AND HE BREAKS IT BY THROWING SMALL STONES ON THE GLASS.

“DUSHMANO KI LAASHON PAR BHANGRA KARNE WALA KABHI LANGDA NAHIN HOTA”

Roomy trouble

I have stayed with roomies for the recent 7 years of my life. 7 years, 2 roomies. During this time, i have perfected the art of irritating the hell out of them.
Will like to share with you some of the golden ideas.

I hid my undies and/or socks in my roomy's cupboard. Whenever he used to open it and hold my stuff i accused him of stealing. I used to start yelling "Chor-Chor" (Thief-Thief or gora's) and run around the bed to attract attention.

I used to listen to radio static, when we were in the same room. When he asked me about it i said "Sshhhh! Listen.. the good part's coming"

Another classic that a close friend once did. He clipped all his nails and kept collecting them in a plastic bag. When he had a bagful, and when his roomy was around he pretended to snack from the bag. When he walked past him he acted as if he was protecting it and looked at him suspiciously. He almost made his roomy throw up when he told him that toe-nails tasted better than finger nails.

Even you can get better than us.
1. You can get a huge stash of porno magazines and put them under your roomy's bed. Whenever someone comes to visit him and he is not around, invite them in and show him/her "His" magazines.

2. When your roommate comes out of the shower, look at him for a second, look away and then giggle.

3. Buy some fish, and name one after your roommate, the next day announce that he died. Name another one after your roommate, and repeat. Do so until they all die. Mourn to your dead fish "Oh, Andy, why did you die? You were a good fish, a good one indeed!" Hehe.

4. Have your friends over, make sure your roommate is there, but not at the same room. Talk really loudly, have your conversation topic about something weird. When your roommate walks in, be quiet and look at him suspiciously until he leaves.

5. Whenever your roommate walks in, scream out "You're back you're back!" as loud as you can and then dance a weird dance around him for 5 minutes. After that look at the watch and say: "Don't you need to go somewhere?"

6. Take your pen and mark a tiny spot on your arm, make it bigger every day, and when your roommate walks it yell out that it's spreading

7. Make a sandwich, but wait, don't eat it. Put it in his room and completely ignore it. When your roommate gets rid of it yell out that you can't find your sandwich and you are really hungry

8. Call your roommate Sheena "by accident", increase the frequency every day until you always call him Sheena, if he protests, say "Sorry, I wont do that any more, Warrior princess."

Now im tired of finding more ways..
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

What's nice about being a woman?

I have been thinking. A lot. Not any of the introspective phases when you think about, where is life taking you and all that bull-shit, but about What's nice being a woman?

1. They got off the Titanic first.
2. They get to flirt with systems support men who always return thier calls, and are nice to them even when they blow up computers.
3. Their boyfriend's clothes make them look gorgeous. Guys look like complete idiots in their clothes.
4. They can be groupies. Male groupies are stalkers.
5. They can cry and get off the traffic police.
6. They've never lusted after a cartoon character or the central female figure in a computer game.
7. Taxis stop for them. In fact, everyone stops for them
8. Men die earlier, so they get to cash in on the life insurance.
9. They don't look like a frog in a blender when dancing. That's why "Pappu" cant dance and not "Pinki"
10. Free drinks, Free dinners, Free movies ... (you get the point).
11. They can hug friends without wondering if he thinks we're gay.
12. They can hug our friends without wondering if WE'RE gay.
13. New lipstick gives them a whole new lease on life.
14. They can spend a whole day shopping, spend a million bucks and still feel happy about it.
15. They don't have to fart to amuse themselves.
16. If they forget to shave, no one has to know.
17. They can congratulate a team-mate without ever touching his/her butt.
18. If they have a pimple, they know how to conceal it.
19. They never have to reach down every so often to make sure their privates are still there.
20. If they're dumb, some people will find it cute.
21. They can cry over the neighbor's dog's dead.
22. They can talk to people of the opposite sex without having to picture them naked.
23. There are times when chocolate really can solve all your problems.
24. They know which glass was theirs by the lipstick mark.
25. They are always closest to the 2 softest things in the world.

Bappi da ka pichwaada

I have essentially been a thin person-thin arms, long and lanky. Once a pretty lady sat on me (purposely, i know). She shot at me "Sorry bolo". I was like "Sheesh yaar, she should be apologising to me!" She shot back again "Your bones sting!!"

That was the moment that i decided-enough with the thin stuff-women like 'healthy' guys. Let me put on some more weight-then THIS girl is going to sit on my lap and say Thank You. A week from now.

So i went to the nearest gym possible and asked the instructor. Can this Ajit Agarkar butt be changed into a Bappi Da butt. Aim for the stars, they say, and you will reach the skies.

Its already 10 days past my 1 week deadline. The Agarkar is still stuck on to me. Guess he likes it there. But some more pressure from my parents on the phone (they are very persuasive) made me go back again to Hanuman Gym. I asked the trainer again "How do I get a Bappi Da bum?". “Treadmill. Cross Trainers. Weight Training. You get your bum.” The guy seemed to be crisp in his replies.

Wow…so handsome people talk less. I made a mental note to talk less and in the process look like a model. Two days later when I walked up to him and asked: “So, which machine do I use if I have to put some fat around my waist first?” he responded: “Difficult question. You know Hindi?” "Yes" " Upna g()()d thik karna hai to mehnat kar!! Now give me 5 kms on the treadmill!!"

I have been thinking ever since – would pretty girls prefer a well built mannequin or go for fair, 5feet 11 inches tall, 32-inches around the waist type?

I'm pretty sure my butt doesnt make the best sight of all, but it surely feels like John Abraham's.

PS: Its been 2 sessions in 23 days. Hanuman Gym guys have been looking for me, so i write this entry from under the table.

Children of lesser God

14th November.
Children's day. or as many will be able to relate to-when Dostana gets released.

Sad as it may sound-its even disheartening to watch kids-under-privileged & employed. Time that should be spent in schools and playing with red cars and yellow buses is spent selling mineral water or shining shoes.
India 2020. APJ Abdul Kalam tried to give a direction to India's future. Right he was. Govt announced the "Education for All" policy. But as all policies create an impact-this too made an impact-not on the children-but on the pockets these ministers have.
I met Raja. Nondescript child. 10ish, dirty feet and hands, a pair or worn out and over-sized hawai chappals. He is employed by the chai-waala that provides us with Tea & some timeout from our office work.
I asked him if he knew that today is Children's Day.
He smiled and stared back at me.
"To aj aapko chai nahin chahiye?" came the reply.

"Education for All" one more policy goes down the drain as does the future of the Children of Lesser God.

Bus.. ho gaya naa..

Essentially, im a lazy person. But when you have got nothing to do-you tend to get tired of being lazy. One such days was this Sunday.
After sleeping for 14 hours I got up and left for the Sangam, Allahabad.

Now, i had sufficient options to go to Sangam. a) I could have called the company cab. b) Could have taken a rickshaw c) Could have gone on my friend's bike d) could have walked.
But.. my brain was playing tricks on me. I decided to take a bus.

I'm pretty sure none of my blog readers has ever been on a UPSTC Bus. Its the shortest piece of metal you can ever get into. I have seen not-height-friendly buses in Jaipur, but this was 'heights'. I was bending over, literally :D

No one was travelling light. Light was struck a 100 times to light a 100 beedis. Smoky, as the scene was, it seemed like the insides of a dream sequence-All that was missing was a 'chamiya' to dance to our tunes and her gyrations.
Some fellow travelers were transporting hens & other birds, some had stuffed gunny sacks with vegetables, other were travelling in the bus with their cycles. It seemed that everyone in Allahabad was shifting his/her house.

I could here the conductor saying: “Everybody out there…get in. I want nobody on the footboard.”

Nobody else but I moved. Guess, I am just too obedient :D

While trying to get in, I brushed against a lady in the crowd. Not intentionally of course. The lady turned back angrily but when she realized that it was I – a young handsome man - who had by mistake brushed her, she cooled down and turned away. My guess is…if only I had not been handsome; she would have created a scene-Slit my throat with the axe she carried in her 'blouse-pocket' and cried Rapist! Rapist!

Inside the bus, I smelt onion, garlic, molasses, rum, hooch, Domex, Savlon, Liril, Rasna, lemon rice and rotten eggs. Not to mention all the other smells that I could not identify.

As I gasped for air and looked out of the bus, the outside world seemed good. For a change I was loving the Allahabadi air. Very comfortable. But many things that work outside of the bus don’t work inside it. For example.. your credit card, which the conductor won’t accept.

I hung from the top rails as the bus meandered through the traffic. Some around me were standing yet sleeping. Perhaps, that is why I managed to rush to a vacated seat and yet get it. The moment I sat on the rickety seat, I regretted. Three pretty school girls – I think they were in their 12th grade – smiled at me and said: “Uncle, can you please hold our school bags?”

Before, I could get over the shock of being called an uncle; I had three bags on my lap. First had a leaking water bottle, second a lunch box that had opened and the third had a frog in a glass bottle – perhaps for the practical.

I had to get down at the next stop. I signaled the girls to take back their bags. As I got up, I offered one of them the seat… but they refused. I wondered why, because when I was 20 year old gabru jawaan, girls would rush in to sit where I had once sat.

As I was leaving, one of the girls said: “Thank you uncle.”

That hurt. That hurt good.

Letter from Mamma !

The Letter:

Betu,
Earlier, when you were a small kid, you were a child who never troubled us. Rarely cried, never fought, hardly complained. Gradually, without my ever noticing it, things started to change, even faster. You began to communicate and what a difference that made! When you were three, you had come into your own as a person and for the first time, I was able to enjoy your company :) I saw you as an individual - a bright, funny and extraordinarily generous little person. And despite continued mealtime struggles, how I've come to love you! Times flew past. You studied, worked hard, at least i hope so, that you gave your best.

Earlier i used to give you a call to check whether you had your dinner and were alright. Now you call up religiously, in the evening after work.
Earlier i used to gift you shirts that you hated. Now you bring home stuff that I love to wear.
Earlier you wanted help. Now you go out of your way to support.

Stop being an adult. Start being a kid again.
Mamma & Papa.
....................................................................................................................................................................

I called up Mamma as soon as i read this letter. What was it all about. A guy's brain has limited understanding abilities.
Me: "Mamma, Senti kyun maar rahe ho?"
I guess this is exactly what she wanted to hear.

Pins & Needles

As per the latest developments, i've heard that some1 very close to me is "itching" to get (another) tattoo done. She (yes i'm bragging that i know a female that has a tattoo) already has a "tribal" thing done on her ankle.
She asked my permission if she can get my face done. I just had one question-"on which part of your body will you get the tattoo done?" I still await her answer, i also wonder if she's goin to talk to me also :(

But, this is also about the doctor-thing that i have. I havent ever had a liking to sterile things-i've been told.

This is when I HAD to go for a medical check-up before joining Hindustan Times.

“Sir, you are asking for an appointment at 10 a.m. and only a lady doctor will be available. Are you ok being examined by a lady.”

I looked around, and finding no one listening, replied: “Sure, I have no problems. Would this be a thorough check-up?”

“Yes sir.”

“Great. I am looking forward to it. Will be at the clinic by 10 a.m. sharp.” The lady did not understand the reason behind my enthusiasm.

Now I had to prepare for the ‘thorough’ medical check up. So, on Wednesday morning…I shaved. Took bath. And shampooed my hair. Never before have I done all three on the same day.

I sprayed an extra dose of my Axe-Effect. And when was not noticing, I applied her Oil of Olay moisturizer all over my body for that shiny, smooth feel. The preparation was not just external. I also picked up my best undergarments for the occasion.

My folks were getting suspicious. Mamma asked: You going for the medical check up, right?

“Yes, why do you ask?”

“Looks like you going on a date,” she exclaimed. She came close to me…and stared right into my eye. I stared back into her eyes, and her threat was conveyed to me through something more powerful than the blue-tooth technology. She warned me of another face-off.

I landed at the clinic 15 minutes ahead of time. I needed to wash my face and apply some talcum powder I had safely packed in my handkerchief.

The moment I had been waiting for arrived, and I was ushered in the lady doctor’s room. She was pretty al right. A little on the plumpy side…but that’s the way I like my doctors – healthy.

I wanted to strike a chord right away. “Good morning Doc!”

She did not reply. That was a put off, but I didn’t budge. My morale was still hitting the roof.

“Nice day, eh Doctor.” I said.

“Yes. Now, take a deep breath.” By now she had placed her stethoscope on my chest. She did her regular check ups and then looked me straight in the eye. That excited me. But everything came crashing down when she asked: “Since when have you been wearing those glasses?”

“It came free, when I was born,” I tried to joke. But the Doc was not enthused.

I must have stayed in that room for 15 minutes, but there was no ‘thorough’ medical examination. A very disappointed me, got up to leave the room when the doctor stopped me and said: “Give this receipt to the nurse at the counter. The same nurse will examine you physically.”

If not a doctor, at least a nurse. I was OK with a consolation prize.

I walked up to the counter and produced the receipt. A guy asked me to follow him to a room and then closed the door behind him. And then the physical check-up began.

By the way, did you know that male medical assistants are also known as nurses? Damn gay people.

PG-21

Just in case you didn’t know where to find male sexual organs

Before I sat down to write this article, I did my bit of research. I rented 13 porn movies - all of them had interesting names: ‘The Extra Testicle,’ a spoof on Steven Spielberg’s science fiction movie ET, and ‘Inspect Her Gadget,’ a spoof on the Hollywood movie Inspector Gadget, Eyes Wide Slut, Grinding Nemo, Hairy Potter, Done in 60 secs, Forest Hump, Whore of the Rings, etc etc etc.

I didn’t really learn much about the male sex organs from the porn movies, because most of the time the focus was on the female sex organ. When I checked with my Gilli-the Porn King (he got the Anna Nicole Smith award in NM Razzies) he said that it could be because the target market for porn movies was a male anywhere from 13 years to 90 years old and with nothing to do. Understandable. Marketing faff.

For those of you that don’t know the male sex organ consists of Ureter, Seminal Vesicles, Vas Deferens, Prostate Gland, Urethra, Testes & Scrotum (thanks Wikipedia)…we expand them further:

• Ureter - The narrator (I noticed it rhymes) of the announcement of a full bladder. In other words-its your pee-tank!
• Seminal Vesicles – It is the point of origin of all seamen. Wonder why they didn’t name it ‘Ship’ or ‘Submarine’.
• Vas Deferens – Definitely not a French restaurant. Instead, more of a captain of the ship because its job is to push the seamen forward.
• Prostate Gland – Since women don’t even have this gland, do you really care what it actually is? (Seriously, only men have prostrate glands)
• Urethra – More like an asshole without the ass. For more details-Wiki it.
• Testes - The real test of manhood, not because it is the sperm factory but because a hit here means 21 stars (that’s how many I saw)
• Scrotum – Unfortunately not a recycle bag.

Dear women, what you don’t know and we don’t show on our faces is that we men live in fear each day. Each visit outside the house involves saving our sexual organs from leather cricket balls, table corners, lamp post, naught small children, swinging hands, lady’s purses, lady’s bent knee, dwarfs and shorties.

We men really don’t make a big deal about this, but it really pains. Forget childbirth pains….have you ever seen Dada-Sourav Ganguly writhe in pain after being hit by a cricket ball? Now, don’t you ask me where…. for I won’t say “Eden Gardens”…instead say, “ Phallus in Wonderland”.

1+1

Before we begin, let me announce that I am a man. I repeat, A MAN.

Of late, I have this feeling that I am pregnant. You might ridicule me, but that is not going to stop me from delivering my child. What you think doesn’t matter to me because you are mere descendants of the people who nailed Jesus, who banished Lord Rama to the jungle for 14 years, and sent Buddha alone to meditate!

You probably wonder how a man can get pregnant. I just checked the net and my symptoms match. Here I explain it for you –

I had heard pregnancy starts with morning sickness. Now, I am sure. For when Madam M (thanks yaar) wakes me up at 9.30 in the morning I feel so sick. I could revolt and get back to sleep…but alas…I have to make do with morning sickness.

For the last one week, I have been puking everything I eat. It is the second most prominent symptom in a pregnant person. Just that it might have something to do with the new cook that my hotel has got-or are they feeding me shit (well.. literally). That's why all i have for dinner is yucky dal and sad chapatis :(

I feel weak and giddy all the time. I know, you could pass this off by saying my boss was giving me loads to do and I stressed out and thus feel tired and giddy. Since I couldn’t ask my boss to cut down on work, I got home and asked the hotel attendant. I told him: “Now, don’t you give excuses like a pregnant lady…clean the wash basin, as you promised last week.”

I cleaned but during the process, I noticed my bulging belly. It sure had become bigger than it was two months back. Mamma told me it may be coz of all i do-Drink beer, sleep, get up and drink some more.…but what if I was really pregnant? Maybe, I was.

The other day, I even had leg cramps. I don’t think it had anything to do with the night-cricket session on Saturday. A quick search in Google revealed that Calcium metabolism is strongest during pregnancy and as a result, the affected party gets leg cramps.

Besides, I have this urge to visit the washroom at regular intervals. Two months back, I would visit the washroom only thrice daily. Now, I spend two hours of my office time inside. When I discreetly checked with Mrs Shalini, who is a mother of three children, she said: “When the belly becomes big (in effect the uterus), it pushes against the urinary bladder. Thus reducing its capacity. With a smaller-in-volume urinary bladder the person feels the urge to visit the loo regularly.” I didn’t tell her that sometimes, even a decrease in the centralized air conditioner’s temperature by two degrees Celsius can result in many visits to the loo. But that would have been off the topic.

Now I had confirmed my pregnancy. Since, I was probably the first man in the whole World to get pregnant I wanted to tread carefully. I couldn’t go visit the doc straight up…so I called the Teenage Pregnancy Prevention Center’s helpline.

“Madam, may I speak to the gynecologist please?”
“Speaking.”
“I think I am pregnant but am not sure.”
“Did you run a pregnancy test?”
“No madam, I am in no mood to run.”
“Please visit a pharmacy, buy a pregnancy test strip and test yourself.”
“But madam, for that I will have to expose myself. Is there any other way, I can find out?”
“Hmm…do you puke?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have morning sickness?”
“Yes.”
“Do you feel giddy?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have leg cramps?”
“Yes.”
“Is your belly increasing in size?”
“Yes.”
“You are definitely pregnant.” It was the doctor confirming my suspicions.
“Madam, please don’t scare me. Is there any other simple yet reliable test to prove pregnancy?”
“Yes. Try eating a green mango. If you are not pregnant you can’t finish it. If you manage to finish it…you are definitely pregnant. This one is a sure shot test.”
“Thank you madam.”
“BTW…you sound like a man…”. I gathered she was having her doubts.
“You might be aware of hormonal changes during pregnancy….” I banged the phone down before she could say anything.

I rushed to a fruit market and bought a green mango. The problem is, I was able to eat it. I even bought five more!

Madam M

My latest addition to my flea-infested friend list. But she's different from the rest.
Thoda angle change karta hun.
My remaining friends are all like me-Dirty, Smelly, Lazy and funny. Madam M on the other hand is a (super)cleanliness freak. Havent smelt her. Is equally lazy (if not more) and sleepy all the time.
Things between us do not go to the stone ages and are infact just 5 days old. But i can proudly proclaim that i'm sure this is one friend i just dont wanna let go-Ever. Not coz she's a deadly combination of Hot-n-Not-Dumb, but she's addictive. You just cant stop talking to her.

She has qualities- Sweet voice, that just doesnt let you sleep when you are tired like hell. Arrogant, she'll sleep through your conversations. A Sweetheart, she can hear to your bull-shit all the time-without complaining. Mischevious, like a cheeky lil mouse, she will put u in such uncomfortable positions that you will find difficult to come out from.
To conclude, or rather more appropriately, to start things i will be quoting P.G.Wodehouse from Uneasy Money,
"I'm sure, at the age of 26, she has aquired the poise and ability to handle difficult situations which a man (if he's lucky), manages to achieve somewhere in the later seventies"

PS: This entry is the punishment for me being sexist :(

Hide and Reek

Today's post will not be about anything substantial. I can't focus on anything right now because there's an awful, disgusting smell wafting around the office. Late last week, an unidentified rodent decided it'd be a great idea to play hide and seek, and then keeled over. We can't find it, but we can smell it. It's suffocating. The smell only got worse over the last night as the ACs have been shut-down (cold they say-i'm sure that its cost-cutting), concentrating the awful smell tenfold. I was going to suggest getting an office cat, but the boss didn't think that'd be a sound expenditure. Sigh. I just hope the smell doesn't permeate my clothes as it does my concentration.

Sorry Madam M.

Music and Me

Music and Me are just like oil and water. They dont mate (or was it mix).
Im supposed to be such a terrible singer, that when i sang the National Anthem, there was a huge quake in Gujrat, 2000 kms away.

Music travels faster than beats. I'm sure. However, after the incident, i've stopped singing altogether. I dont even sing to myself. Not even while taking a bath. Not even while "patoing" girls. I guess i am not happening. Hip, as you would understand.

But what is more perplexing about music is the names of the bands.

For me‘Beatles’ are insects to be squished. 'Gloria Estefan' is a Spanish fan that glows. 'Dire Straits' is the condition in which i am now. Celine Dion is the female counterpart of the Godfather-Don Corleone. 'Britney Spears' was the Roman blacksmith, specialising in making spears. 'Ashlee Simpson' is the cross between Bart Simpson and Tommy Lee Jones. 'AC/DC' were a bunch of jerks in Hazratganj who used to steal electricity. 'Deff Leppard' was a jungle-boy and grew up on Leopard shit.

‘Rolling Stones’ are nothing but stones that gather no moss. ‘Beach Boys’ are the ones that sell peanuts on the beach…‘RadioHead’ for me is the small antenna atop my transistor. ‘Bob Dylan’ and ‘Bob Marley’ are two varieties of beer made from Barley. Enrique is like an over grown guy that grows on wheat-grass. 'The Pussycat Dolls' are a bunch of lost kitties. 'Westlife' is an opposing group of Vishva Hindu Parishad. '50 Cents' an organization that is for the beggar, by the beggar and of the beggar. 'T-Pain' is a name of a pain-killer/giver. 'Pretty Ricky' is the name of a dumb high school babe that is going to have brain-implants from an ant. 'Black Eyed Peas' is a dish of burnt peas, served with rabbit eyes and white sauce.

‘Pink Floyd’ is something pink that makes a lot of noise. ‘U2’ and ‘U40’ are two buses that will take me from Civil Lines (in Allahabad) to Telliyarganj (again in Allahabad). ‘Led Zeppelin’ is grandson of the man who invented the Zeppelins used during WW1. ‘Smashing Pumpkins’ is what we Indians do on the road to avoid the evil eye…and in the process kill so many motorists.

‘Madonna’ is just a statue that cries (with tears of blood) whenever required. ‘Elvis Presley’ is some printing press owned by a guy named Elvis. ‘Red Hot Chilli Peppers’ is the Mexican food that Rekha likes so much, and I don’t. ‘FatBoy Slim’ is the third atomic bomb US dropped on Japan – yes, the one that did not go off. ‘Nirvana’ is nothing but a mental state of no noise. ‘The Eagles’ are well…eagles.

‘Guns ‘n Roses’ is just a phrase that means war and peace. For me ‘Aerosmith’ is somebody who works on the iron used to build aeroplanes…somebody like a blacksmith. As for ‘Pearl Jam’…I guess it is ocean’s equivalent of a traffic jam, when many oysters (with pearls inside) jam up at a place and affect smooth functioning of the traffic.
‘Shania Twain’ is Mark Twain’s sister …or is it the brother? As for ‘Grateful Death’…well it is a phrase used for somebody who should be grateful if allowed to die.

Like I said, I am not much of a music guy. I know no albums, no bands, and no singers. All i know is that Madam M loves music.

Rel Gaadi

Central Station: New Delhi
Train Name: Rajdhani
Date & Time: 2 Nov '07, 8:15 p.m.
Destination: Mumbai

4.30 p.m.
I have just installed the Reliance data card, and believe me…it lives up to its Kar Lo Duniya Muthi Main line. I am traveling in the train from New Delhi to Mumbai and on the way responding to the official e-mails that make my life a hell. If this isn’t awesome, what else could be? (I stole the data-card from Papa)

8.31 p.m.
Ohhh…wait! There is a there is a pretty lady in seat number 13. I am in seat number 16 – the side upper berth and have a good view of her.

8.40 p.m.
Unfortunately, J keeps calling me and asking questions like: ‘Do you miss me?” for which my replies have to be really measured. I don’t want the pretty lady to know that I am already committed. Why should she be deprived of happiness just because J got to me first?
I'm not of the adulterous kinds, but a male always stays a male.

8.50 p.m.
I notice the pretty lady is a Keralaite. She is talking in Malayalam. The language has never sounded sweeter. What is it with Indian males? Why do they always fall in love?

9.00 p.m.
Oops! Who is that two-year-old kid sitting next to the pretty lady? Definitely not her son…..because I can see that the kid is wearing a frock, earrings and a bindi. Could she be her daughter? Perhaps. Let me wait till the kid opens her mouth – how will she address the pretty lady? Amma? Mummy? Amme? How long do I have to wait till the kid opens its mouth? Hope I don’t have to wait for five years. I did take that long to speak out for the first time. Some in my family thought I had Parkinson's disease, while a few others put crushed neem and some root on my tongue so that I could talk sooner. I didn’t talk…but shouted because my uncle was standing on my toes. “What the fuck!” I remember saying.

9.20 p.m.
The pretty lady picks up water to drink. Hope that’s clean. One can never trust the Railway guys….they can be quite adulterous. I remember this committed guy in railways. Relationship steady for 4 years and looking ahead for marriage. He had 3 more fiances like her. He was quite adulterous.

9.21 p.m.
While tilting her head back to pour water into her gentle throat, she steals a glance at me. Our eyes meet, but I act out a there-is-a-speck-of-dust-in-my-eye thing and start banging on my keyboard. She perhaps thinks I am master software professional. She doesn’t know that I am using MS Paint (no offense M)– the most basic of all softwares.
While typing, I sometimes pause and look at the dirty fan…sometimes at the chain (the one used to stop the train)…sometimes at the windows…all this to make her feel that I am a great software professional who is coming up with something which would make heads turn and make me a multi-billionaire.

9.30 p.m.
I see that she has got up and is correcting her clothes. Wonder why. Hope she isn’t eyeing the TTE. I can see the TTE checking our co-passenger’s tickets.

9.34 p.m.
The TTE leaves. The pretty lady walks towards the washbasin. We are sitting in 3rd AC…and the washrooms are only slightly better than what one would find in 2nd class compartments. But can I warn her? Would I be well within my rights? I hope she doesn’t go into the washrooms. She walks back and is looking at me this very moment. I smile. I can see that she doubts her ability to control herself in front of a handsome man. She just looks down and keeps walking. I bet she wanted me to look at her hind.

9.37 p.m.
I have decided…once her parents sleep, I will get her phone number. Better still Yahoo ID. How about writing a letter for her.

9.40 p.m.
Found out that she is also going to Mumbai….I had to get down and look at the reservation chart.
F 24, S. Asthana it says. Awesome. I'm sure she loves me.

9.45 p.m.
They are switching off the lights. Why can’t people sleep with the lights on? I am staring into the dark. Can’t see anything. Wonder if she is also staring into the dark? Something that’s going against me is the fact that I remove my glasses while sleeping. Also i look better with my glasses on. She should be carrying a night-vision appendage to look at me.

3rd Nov, 10.24 a.m.
Couldn’t get her phone number or Yahoo ID. In love with her though. We are reaching Mumbai in five minutes.

3rd Nov, 10.32 a.m.
We have reached Mumbai. Her husband has come to pick her up. Glad I held myself last night – he is huge. Must be 6 feet 4 inches. At least two feet taller than I am.

3rd Nov, 10.34 a.m.
Spotted J and J's parents. What should i compliment J with. It is becoming increasingly difficult to make up lies at the last moment. Should have thought the entire way about J. Damn Mallus.
Me: "Wow! new hair style?"
J: "No. This is how it has always been!"
Me: "You eyes look so different! Eye surgery?"
J: "Its my B'de today"
Me: "Arre baba that's why i came here! Happy B'de!" <Thank God. Lucky escape>

My last sexist Joke !

Why is it so lovely being a Male !

1. Your ass is never a factor in a job interview.
2. Your orgasms are real. Always.
3. Your last name stays put.
4. You never feel compelled to stop a friend from getting laid.
5. Car mechanics tell you the truth.
6. You don't give a rat's ass if someone notices your new haircut.
7. Hot wax never comes near your pubic area.
8. Same work .. more pay.
9. Wrinkles-add character.
10. You don't have to leave the room to make emergency crotch adjustments.
11. Wedding Dress $2000; Tux rental $100.
12. People never glance at your chest when you're talking to them.
13. New shoes don't cut, blister, or mangle your feet.
14. One mood, ALL the damn time.
15. A five-day vacation requires only 1 suitcase.
16. You can open all your own jars.
17. Your underwear is $10 for a three-pack.
18. If you are single, nobody notices.
19. Three pairs of shoes are more than enough.
20. You can quietly watch a game with your buddy for hours without ever thinking "He must be mad at me."
21. No painful days in the month.
22. If another guy shows up at the party in the same outfit, you just might become lifelong friends.
23. You are not expected to know the names of more than five colors.
24. You are unable to see wrinkles in clothes.
25. The same hairstyle lasts for years, maybe decades.
26. One wallet and one pair of shoes, one color, all seasons.
27. You can "do" your nails with a pocketknife.
28. Shopping can be accomplished for 25 relatives, on December 24th, in minutes.
29. The world is your urinal.
30. Beer is the universal solution of all problems.
    

Non-Sexist Entry

Motivation
Madam M: "You are such a jerk"
Me: "I knw that, but what did i do now?"
Madam M: "Your blog is turning out only for males now!"
Me: "But im just catering to 70% of my blog readers! That's what they want to read. They are all a bunch of loser males, who cant surf for porn (as its banned in office), cant get females (they are as ugly as a tortoise's arse) and desperate (like a lose canon, loaded but without a fuse)"

Madam M: "huh!, BYE!"
Me: "I promise to be a girls-guy now"

Result:
Topic of discussion:
How about starting with a funny joke.

On a Jet flight, a plane passes through a severe storm. The turbulence is awful, and things go from bad to worse when one wing is struck by lightning. One woman in particular loses it.

Screaming, she stands up in front of the plane. "I'm too young to die!" she wails. "Well, if I'm going to die, I want my last minutes on Earth to be memorable! I've had plenty of sex in my life, but no one has ever made me really feel like a woman! Well I've had it! Is there ANYONE on this plane who can make me feel like a WOMAN??"

For a moment, there is silence. Everyone has forgotten their own peril, and they all stare, riveted, at the desperate woman in the front of the plane.

Then, a man stands up in the rear of the plane. "I can make you feel like a woman," he says. He's gorgeous. Tall, built, with long, flowing black hair and jet black eyes, he starts to walk slowly up the aisle, unbuttoning his shirt one button at a time. No one moves.

The woman is breathing heavily in anticipation as the stranger approaches. He removes his shirt. Muscles ripple across his chest as he reaches her, and extends the arm holding his shirt to the trembling woman, and whispers:

"Iron this."



Conclusion:
Non-Sexist after this entry. LOLZ!

Reality Bites

Caveat: Not for the weak hearted. Graphic content!

Love it, Hate it, but you just cant ignore it!

Reality TV: this is the place where fiction meets reality.
If you cant understand what i'm talking about-switch on your television. Invariably within 30 secs you will come across either Bigg Boss, Nach Baliye, SaReGaMa, Idion Idol, Fear Factor, and what not.

Now this entry is not about how crappy these serials are-but how awesome they can get. Now, when i met Mandira Bedi, we went on to talk for abt 15 mins about how difficult its being in the media. For dafts, she's a hot female; I am a super-hot male :D

But after spending some time with her, i realised how easy it is to make a reality show. Some ideas that sprung up in my head were. I'm sure she doesnt read my blog.

IS SHE LEGAL?
20 hot nubile petite females compete against each other in trivia (Lolz), physical challenges, and pillow fights before one lucky guy chooses a girl and asks the judges... Is She Legal?
Location: Maharastra
Judges: Me.
Prize: Free lifetime counsel by His Holiness
Sponsor: PISS Foundation- People In Single & Searching mode Foundation.

AMERICA'S WETTEST T-SHIRT
500 girls in skin-tight white t-shirts vie to see who can make their t-shirt the wettest
Location: A different city each week... Except South India. (sorry- the program can become gory after a certain degree)
Judges: A panel composed of Swimsuit models, firemen, and Olympic gold medal swimmer, Michael Phelps, and Me
Prize: Each week's winner will board the India's Wettest T-Shirt tour bus and earn an automatic entry in the season-ending tournament of champions, held in my pants
Sponsor: The WBA - World Breast Association or LIBAS - Leagues of Insanely big Breasts And Smallest brains.

DON'T FORGET YOUR WALLET
Unknown contestants are woken up early in the morning following a one-night stand and have one minute to dress and escape before we wake up the chick. If the clock expires or the contestant leaves any personal belongings, he may wind up stuck in a relationship.
Location: A bedroom near you
Judges: A panel made up of myself, Nasseruddin Shah and Om Puri
Prize: Freedom
Sponsor:Durex "Together we can end Feelings"

Feeling ki to %^^&%$#&

As you all know, in Mumbai, I overcame a traumatic and life threatening experience of my breakup. While I appreciate the “get well” cards, wine-bottles, muffin baskets and boob-o-grams you’ve been so kind to send, many of you are under the impression that the 83 major and minor bone fractures (Lolz) were the most serious injuries I suffered. False. All the time I was fighting a far more insidious and debilitating condition. Feelings.

But I have to regretfully inform that medical establishments have done very little research on this debilitating affliction. No research, no rabbit treatments, no Dr No/Who experiments. Infact some of my Doctor+MBA friends have went so far as to claim that Feelings are not even a life-threatening disease!!

This entry may be considered a medical pamphlet distributed to the human race for cumulative benefits and humanity's sake-Only. No return gifts expected-apart from “get well” cards, wine-bottles, muffin baskets and boob-o-grams; as already mentioned.

ARE YOU SUFFERING FROM FEELINGS?

What Are Feelings?
Feelings are a tender emotional state that develop when a male (read 'awesome') becomes fixated on a single female to the exclusion of others. Resulting in he moving to a self-destruction mode.

Early Warning Signs
When you’re around one particular chick, you experience:
•Pounding Heart
•Talk (either do not talk at all or talk too much)
•Nausea
•Inability to talk sense
•Sweating
•Desire to say flattering things

If undiagnosed, these warning signs can quickly develop into the full blown disease…

Symptoms
•Warm fluttery feelings in stomach
•Lightheadedness
•An unexplained urge to watch Love Actually, 9 Months, Harry met Sally
•Sudden increase in cuddling occurrences
•Brunch cravings
•Explosive monogamy
•Happiness
•Failure to notice other hot women

Transmission
Though correlation remains scientifically inconclusive, studies indicate “hand holding” may play a role in spreading Feelings from one person to another.

Treatment
Because the Medical establishments do not recognize the importance of the issue, we are forced to offer alternative treatments. Presently the onl treatment for Feelings is a multi-week course in "Other Women". If symptoms take a long time to fade you will have to repeat the course at a higher dosage.
NOTE: This treatment can result in harmful side-effects such as rash, infection, and in some cases, pregnancy.

Funded by His Holiness Foundation.

“Together we can end Feelings”

The Bro Code

Now fellow comrades on the internet space. I know that over the years you have got lamer than you ever were (or will be).
Instead of watching porn on the internet, you read my blog!!
But there is hope. Do not worry. Do not kill yourself.

There are a few things that transcend beyond materialistic and godly pleasures of the world (like porn & hot babes). That is friendship!

Laid out in front of you is the BRO code (This is only for males; for females-get a sex-change operation 1st; for gays-i'm not your friend; for lesbians-i love you!)

So the BRO Code (adapted from How I Met Your Mother)
ARTICLE 26
"A bro will, in a timely manner, alert his bro to the existence of a girl fight."
A Bro must never hesitate before communicating the possibility of fisticuffs between two humans of the female variety [[HENCEFORTH "GIRL FIGHT"]], in an effort to make possible and probable that another Bro or Bros can partake in observation..
If an informed Bro is unable to witness the girl fight firsthand, the spotter Bro is responsible for documenting and relating details of the girl fight via pictures, video*, or barring any other reasonable method, interpretive dance and/or pantomime.

ARTICLE 53
"A Bro will, whenever possible, provide his Bro with protection."
In the event that one Bro finds himself lacking the necessary prophylactic accoutrements (supportive equipment) needed to complete the act of coitus in a safe and effective manner, he is in the right to expect his Bro will use all measures within or without his means to provide the aforementioned accoutrement in a timely yet discreet fashion.
In no instance may a two-wheeled bicycle be used* as this is not only humiliating, but also potentially harmful to the perineum - a zone of tissue perilously adjacent to noted sexual organs.
ARTICLE 89
"A Bro will, never ever, sleep when talking to the bro-nterpart."
Be it here resolved that at no point is the bron-servation (conversation between bro's) stupid and boring. Henceforth it is allowed and encouraged for both Bro's to engage in meaningful conversations at late night, esp after 12. Also this act is in no means even closer of being Gayish. This conversation can also be carried out with the members of the "other sex".

PS: Andy, I made it possible. You are charged with serious violations of Articles 26 and 53!
Madam M: You are charged with extremely high degree of mental assault vide article 89 !

Tear and Tears.

This is one of the encounters i've had with the other sex (I am male)

About 10 months ago, i had a break-up. Madam J thought that my nose was crooked and was getting more crooked day by day. I had tried all kinds of things. Sleeping on the other side. Putting a hair-pin under my nose. Asking a hunk to punch me the other way. But the essence was that I had a break-up.

Like all non-manic males, I wanted to go to the beach/pub/terrace/water tank/amusement park with a bottle of beer and get inebriated. 'Talli' till my pockets can afford. Luckily i had close friends who used to work for FBI (or were dogs) and were able to sniff out where am i.

I was lonely and desperate too. Everyone was trying hard to get me hooked up. Andy, my roomy, even paid a hooker Rs 10 to talk to me and act as if she's really interested in me. I had almost fallen for her, but she asked me to pay in advance. (Thank God)

Gaurav as usual became by drinking partner. I remember we tried the most potent of all drinks. The ShotGun. It had generous portions of Whisky, Vodka, Benadryl, some milk and Coke. The best part is that it gets all bubbly bubbly and radioactive-ey.

Howver, Madam R, was the best of the lot. She actually asked a friend of hers to come and spend some time with me. Lets call her (im running out of alphabets now) The Warrior Princess. So TWP and I meet in Ruby Tuesday. Terrible food, but they serve LI in pitchers. Nice. Happy Hours. Awesome. I'm not paying for it. Heaven.

She was HOT. Three alphabets summarize all that guys look for in girls. Perfect proportions. (of beauty and brains, perverts!)

We started talking about the MBA stuff, how will this drinking session impact the GDP of India; random as it could get she was a talker. Talker means a Talker. Now for a person like me, who is getting a surgery done for a second tongue, talking was never a problem. But she talked through my brain cells. I could hear them all scream for silence. She was like the Param Supercomupter talking, no, guzzling out, torpedoing, words !!

Wham Bam!! I was smitten. Deeply in love. Then came the biggest question of all. Are you seeing someone. The question that all guys should ask before falling for someone.

She didn’t respond…she was looking at the car park. I sat still…Back straight. Bums tense. Heart tenser. I asked if she was looking for someone (from the inside i wasnted to shout-Hello!! Im here). Two minutes later a tall, handsome man walked in and shook hands with her (actually hugged with 2 kisses on either cheeks) She then turned towards me and said: “Meet Vijay – our parents have met and agreed on our marriage and now we have to decide if we like each other or not.”

The pretty girl could have pierced a knife thro’ my stomach – and pulled out all the Pizza and drained the Long Island.

I couldn’t see my girl walk away with another man…so called for my cab. As I was walking away…I wiped a tear. One more for the weaker sex.

Lesson Learnt: If you have had the spicy Mexican Fireball …don’t take your fingers near your eyes.

Tricky Tricky !

Speak your heart out dude !

Doctor Doctor !
Calvin the God !
Bored !

My Super Hero Cousin

I am normally a no-kid guy.. Normally.
But when there's a new member in the family, u cant escape it. Kids (As i was discussing with Madam M yde) are like poop machines.. They can poop their intestines out. But what an awesome life these kids live. All they do is eat-sleep-poop-pause-poop more and repeat. The life that any guy will kill for (minus the poop-ing bit of it)

However, when Harsh was born (i'm bad at dates) about 3 years ago-i was asked by Chachi to hold him and make him grow like me. I agree that from my posts i give out the vibes of being a supremely sexist-rudist-chauvinist; I dnt say that i'm not; but i "look" deceptive. (Madam M affirms)

However, when Chachi was delivering the baby I was with my dearest Chachu. For some Dad's are the cash M/Cs; for me it was Chachu. Dearest Chachu was very cool and calm and he was'nt moving up and down the corridor-I was... I was staring at the sky looking for the stork to bring in the kid.

As soon as the nurse brought Harsh wrapped in a clean, white cloth, I asked Chachu “I didn’t see any stork coming…how did the baby come?” What followed after that was another male-bee-meets-female bee story.

I being a hardcore Calvin n Hobbes fan, suffer from a high dosage of super heroes. However I still believe that my cousin is a super hero.

My suspicion was triggered when I realized that he enjoyed spending time in the balcony – isn’t that the favourite spot of all our super heroes? Have you ever seen a super hero use the door to leave or enter the house? They always use the balcony!

As if that wasn’t enough, he has got amazing eyesight. Capable of spotting even the smallest of dirt – something that average people like you and me wouldn’t even spot on the floor. I have a feeling, he is honing his skill.. Everyday we were forced to remove at least 5-6 small items that he put in his mouth. He could gnaw the smallest element of plastic in the plastic ball. Put a titanium pen to shame by biting the head of it. (I wonder if i can get him to open my beer bottles)

Harsh could also crawl into any space – even the six inch space between our treadmill and the wall – and come out unscathed. When I tried to do the same, I got stuck and we had to call the fire fighters.

Now that he has learnt to stand by himself, he spends a lot of time standing against walls…trying to feel the surface. He probably wants to scale them….and is feeling the texture of the wall. He is also seen licking the surface…guess that’s how the superheroes decide on which trick to use to scale a wall.

When I tried to play with him, he kept on waving his hands up and down…and then looks at his palm…as if something that was to come out of his palms…wasn’t coming. A web, perhaps. When he isn’t looking at his palms, he enjoys making strands of her saliva and playing with them.

After seeing all these activities, we have confirmed that he is indeed a superhero in the making….and now are debating which superhero he would grow up to be. We couldn’t arrive at a decision till late last night (Saturday) when Chachu spotted a spider biting his on her exposed thighs. Or was it the cockroach... It should be the roach.

Another C-Man in the making. Good! I have company now !

When he started going to his prep-school he used to hate I-Cards. All Superheroes want to be anonymous. He would rip the i-card apart with the shirt pocket. Because i was doing my MBA-Chachi asked me a managerial question. 'How can i stop him from doing this?' Like all MBA students I did not have an answer but confused the hell of her :D (When u cant explain-confuse. When u cant confuse-Run). I thought hard. I had a solution finally after rattling with my bean-sized brain.

He now goes to school, with his i-card still on. But at his back. The only student with his i-card on his back.
Awesome. (That was for me) That's called out-of the-box thinking.

PS: Chachu+Chachi how about giving me the treasure box you promised when I would write about Harsh.

Past is Past..

Travails of the past... Encounters of the GF kind !

I was innocent. For I thought she loved me. I was obviously (and naturally) thinking like a man.

J used to call me at least four to five times during College timings. If I include calls made to remind me to pay the phone bill, drop the Credit card cheque, or book train tickets…it would amount to about ten calls a day.

For long, I thought the amount of calls that a wife makes during college is directly proportional to the love she has for you. Guess, it is just the opposite.

The first call would be around 10 a.m. “So, did you reach safely?” she would ask.

“Yes. Nothing happened to my bike.”

“Good,” she would say and keep the phone down.

The other calls would be timed for 11.00 a.m. (she knows that’s the time I go for coffee), 1.00 p.m. (that’s the time I go for lunch) and 3.30 p.m. (afternoon coffee).

Though not a daughter of a Army General (or was she :D ), J sure was punctual with her calls. So much so, once I got the second call of the day, I would yell at my classmate, “Hey, looks like its coffee time. Wanna come?” Guys generally like to have coffee with me. That is, if I offer to pay. Otherwise, they prefer females. Their motto is simple; if you are not saving money…at least have some fun.

As I have already told you, I am a man quite chaste. And the innocent me never suspected any ill will in J’s calls.

A few days back she calls me when I was having lunch.

“So, what you doing?” J asks.

“Me? Nothing…I am just having my lunch. Alu Poori, but why ask?,”

“I can hear a lady near you. Whom are you having your lunch with?”

“Hooo…that’s Ritika. A classmate.”

“Married?”

“Nah, but she would get married soon,” I turn an astrologer.

“So she is pretty?”

I wanted to ask her…Arre if only pretty girls get married…how did YOU get married. But such questions are best wrapped up in an aluminum foil and kept safely inside your heart.

“Yeah, kind of,” I tell her.

“From tom, you shall not have lunch with her. So it took you only two months to start flirting again?”

“What flirting? I am only eating!” I exclaim. I am furious, but then gentlemen like me do not show their anger out in the open. So, I speak into my mobile lovingly: “My dear J, I am only having my lunch babba.”

“That’s all fine. I am glad I called you. My two months of keeping a watch finally paid off”

I ask her softly. “What watch? Just two months into our relation and you have hired detectives to tail me?”

I am sweating with anger and indignation…but I am not suffering from mad cow’s disease and hence would not reveal my anger.

“No. I have not hired any detectives. Why do you think I was calling you so often?”

I don’t recollect how the conversation ended. But it hurt. Now she doesn’t call me that often. But knowing her, I am sure…I have a few detectives behind me. Might be its one of my recent friends i've made or even my office colleagues.

PS: All u spies... I know u r out there! Screw u!

Into the Future: What if i got married to a cleanliness freak !

This entry takes u into future when im married to a cleanliness freak.

There used to be a time in my life when I was obsessed with cleanliness. Now, I
leave it to my wife M. (Lets call her Madam M)
Most bachelors have clean habits. They brush their teeth once a week, take bath on Sundays, and wear washed clothes for parties and what not. But once they marry, cleanliness goes for a toss.
If you are a lady and are reading this, chances are you would not agree. But read on and I am sure you would be convinced. If you are married, I request you to turn a new leaf and stop pestering your husband about his cleanliness. As I was saying, after marriage Madam M has started finding fault with everything.

It starts as early as 3 a.m. I am sleepy and could not careless for cleanliness but she wakes me up and says my saliva is spoiling the pillow cover. She forces me to place a folded towel on the pillow and I get back to sleep. She wakes me up at 6 a.m. – and that’s pretty early for me – and says: “Look, you have spoiled the towel also!”

Bathrooms are a horror. Here are some of the sentences I get to hear…
“Come on…I told you not to take the newspaper inside the bathroom?”
(For the God in me, I can’t understand why she hates me taking the newspaper when I go to the loo. She hates it so much that she does not read the paper. Or is it her excuse?)

“Hey, you left the toilet seat up again!”
(So what, put it down again! Of course, I don’t say it in as many words.)

“The walls are all soap. Can’t you pour some water, or be careful while taking bath?”
(The walls are all soap? Good…we don’t need to buy soap for another two
years. And anyways what am I supposed to do? Lie down on the floor and take
bath?)

“Did you notice the soap box? It is full of water!”
(Yeah right, I was just trying save water for the rainy day. Or was I trying to make some liquid soap?)

And just when I am done with the ‘bathroom bashing’ I am in the dressing room trying on my new CharagDin shirt (I am lying, I buy only cheap ones) when she barges in and says: “Just look at your wardrobe.”
I turn around and look at my wardrobe. I like the tone she uses…as if I were the Maharaja of Patiala and I were caught wearing stupid brands like Allen Solly, Luis Philippe, Color Plus etc.
“Yeah, I saw…what is wrong?” I ask.
“Now, look at mine. Everything is washed, ironed and kept properly,” she says.
“Yeah,” I reluctantly agree. More because, I am late for office and I also need to squeeze in that smoke that she does not know about.

Now we move on to the breakfast table, where I get scolded for being magnanimous enough to drop a cereal for the ants that have formed a cantonment in my house.

I also get berated for not keeping my helmet clean, for not washing the dishes I use, for leaving the water bottle un-capped. Anything I do in my house needs to be done in another way - the supposedly cleaner way.
Now, I am all dressed up and ready to leave. I am happy that I can be myself for another 9 hours – that’s the time I spend in my office. When I close the door behind me, I hear her shout: “Look at the mess your shoes have done to the floor?”

I grind my teeth, promising myself that I will also make her life hell, and walk into the sunset….


PS: I know God dsnt read my blogs-but if You do-Please Please dnt make my life like this !!