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>