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>