Mar 16, 2012
The more things change, the more they stay the same.
Another realization..FB is NOT a place for venting emotions. Too much garbage, sorry, friends.
So FUCK YOU SACHIN..and people who have followed this blog know, I am NOT a turncoat. It has been fuck you sachin forever.
Apr 21, 2010
Har Fikar Ko Dhuen Mein Udata Chala Gaya
Barbadiyon Ka Shok Manana Fizul Tha
Barbadiyon Ka Jashan Manata Chala Gaya
Har Fikar Ko Dhuen Mein Uda
Jo Mil Gaya Usi Ko Muqaddar Samajh Liya
Jo Kho Gaya Maein Usko Bhulata Chala Gaya
Har Fikar Ko Dhuen Mein Uda
Gham Aur Khushi Mein Farq Na Mehsoos Ho Jahan
Maein Dil Ko Us Muqaam Pe Laata Chala Gaya
Har Fikar Ko Dhuen Mein Uda
Apr 2, 2010
Dogs have been my closest friends ever since I can remember. And something 'doggy' in me has always ensured that irrespective of the place, breed, training, mood or weather I have made licking acquaintances with most of the dogs in any locality I have lived in so far. Without sounding too cliche-ed or melodramatic, I have found solace on many a dark, horrible and gut wrenching day in the unfailing greeting and unconditional display of love.
So it came as a huge shock a couple of months back when I first saw 4 semi domesticated strays in our locality playfully catch and kill a pigeon. And then 3 others somewhere else actually killed and ate one in front of me. And today i saw a couple of them fighting over the body of a dead puppy...playfully tearing it apart.
Something is going very wrong somewhere. And if you, like me, have known and loved dogs, then you would start getting scared as well.
I had always heard of the term 'its a dog eat dog world' but had never taken it literally, the thought having never ever crossed my mind. Is it the beginning of the end then?
Jan 23, 2010
Its not like the pakis (oops soory again)are racist or anything right? Because in THAT case there would have been no noise on their exclusion. After all, a team like South Africa, who had 7 world class players in their ranks, could be banned for 22 years because their government was racist. But who cares about a thousand odd bloody indians killed in paki instigated terror strikes? At least the apartheid south africans were just killing a bunch of faceless blacks. Its not like they were a crucial factor against the 'war against terror' in the 'axis of evil'!
At the end of the day, a big FUCK YOU to the politicos - none of whom have so far had the balls to say yes it was deliberate. To the media (as usual, since the post is in this blog) for gleefully watching from the sidelines and not asking a single straight question. To all the psuedu armchair cricket experts, bemoaning the loss of the world champion side, in a format like T20 where the world champions of one day can lose to their domestic help team the next.
I think the pakis deserve us as their neighbors.
Aug 24, 2009
Taking this one step further, i investigated the names of swine flu victims and guess what? No Muslims there.
Research is on mad cow and chickengunia.
Will keep u posted.
PS: inspired by Steven Levitt who has made some amazing correlations just by crunching numbers.
Aug 11, 2009
Promise to quit the addiction the day the other person gets married.
This way, the game always has ONE winner.
Dont need the Nobel, a bottle will do.
Jul 14, 2009
Jul 6, 2009
So here goes..
From tomorrow..its 'CRIB TARGET OF THE DAY'...a lucky guy in the morning newspaper will get it from me every morning..and i will do it like taking quinine(sp?) in malaria..no creative bullshit here..just meeting the target.
SO..if u guys want to join my driver..meet me here.
Ghetu: i am open to syndication negotioations.
Apr 23, 2009
After ages, finally here is a desi who has a killing wit combined with a vivid imagination. And he has captured the imagination of blogsphere. Combine that being the guy who has made SRFK forget to shave his white stubble before appearing on television..well i think i have become a lifelong fan.
And if you want the cynical sign off..here's the cloud behind the silver lining. A guy who has sent cricket and bollywood (yes, bollywood AB) into a frigging tizzy deserved to be rewarded hugely. But those doors are closed to this poor bloke. In order to earn money he has to divulge who he is so sponsors can pay him. If he does that he will no longer be in a position to be privy to any of the inner gossip.
Sad for him. But for us, I wish he would go on forever!!
Apr 9, 2009
What do you want?
What the fuck do you think? I have come to take you.
What are you? The dumbest motherfucker in the world or something? I have come for you..your time is up.
What? What the fuck do you mean no? You think you have a bloody choice or something?
No..i meant i am not the dumbest motherfucker..in fact i am not a motherfucker even.
DEATH GROANS Let me try and explain this to you fuckface. You are about to have a heart attack. And that will be the end of you. Then we will go together to the Other Side.
WHAAT? Because I say so dickhead..now get the fuck up and get ready for that attack. What are you doing?
Pudin Hara..its good for acidity..just had some chest pain..must have been the vada pav i had in the evening. So what were you saying?
EVIL LAUGHTER Thats not acidity you dung brain..Prepare for the end!
Wait...LOUD BURP Aaah! That was better..Oh sorry..excuse me. You were saying?
Enough!! Its 9:15. Time up stink face. Let's go.
Lets go lets go..so much in hurry all the time..one of these days you will get a heart attack..ok baba ok..i will come where you want to take me..i know what this is..must be those hidden camera programs..but i am too smart for you. Wait!! just let me watch the news headlines for a minute. Ok?
DEATH SIGHS AND SITS DOWN. MAN TURNS ON TV AND STARTS FLIPPING THROUGH THE CHANNELS ONE BY ONE..DEATH'S FACE TAKES ON A GREENISH TINGE
No..no!! Stop that! How can you watch that? Please..for satan's sake! Please!
Huh! What happened? Some new joke? Haha.
No no no..please! I will leave! If this doesnt kill you I dont stand a chance!
Leave? Are you crazy! Just wait for the next program! It will blow you mind!
DEATH CONTINUES WATCHING AND SUDDENLY THERE IS A LOUD BANG AND HIS HEAD EXPLODES. A PUFF OF SMOKE AND HE IS GONE
Strange fellow. But good special effects. I wonder which channel it will come on.
MAN CONTINUES FLIPPING CHANNELS
Mar 26, 2009
Now, before you start hammering on your keyboards writing crap like 'stealing is stealing, whether its a car or a movie' and all such nonsense drilled into your brains by the owners of content - PLEASE! Lets leave the morality part out of this discussion. Piracy is banned by 'LAW' not by 'GOD'. A very interesting angle was presented in 'The Reader' where a lawyer argues for a Nazi camp gaurd saying that she was only following what was the law at that point in time. No Vedas say piracy is a crime. So all our Vedas and epics were copied and read out in festivals and ceremonies and none of the rishi-s and muni-s earned a single red cent out of the deal. If Mr Johar had written the Mahabharata...well that would have been a different story right?
Anyway, so leaving out the moral and legal aspect of the discussion here are a few additional laws I would like to be implemented along with the anti piracy crackdown laws:
1) Arrest all directors, producers, writers, music directors and lyricists for copying any idea or content without acknowledging and paying the source.
2) Declare all earnings and let the government do Tax Deduction at Source.
3) Mandate part of the money earned goes back into the industry. So music labels should produce x number of new artists per year, film producers should open y number of acting schools etc etc.
4) Provide money back facility to the consumer. If the viewer/listener feels that shit is being dished out, he returns the shit and gets his money back.
5) Provide breakup and pricing justification to a central board or commitee to explain why a particular DVD costs Rs 500 in some label and Rs 29 in another label after 3 months.
Into this land of freedom let my country awake.
Mar 3, 2009
So when India pulls out of the Paki tour post the Mumbai incident, Mr Ranatunga steps in as the concerned brother and long suffering empathiser. The heavens open and petals shower on him and a voice assures him of an ICC position in the near future! Shame on you India!!
Well..screw you brother. I sincerely wish you were on that fucking bus in Lahore today.
And it probably also lays to rest an age old debate about whether cricket administrators should be ex cricketers or not. As Mr Gavaskar had done his share in his ICC stint, I will now rest my case.
Feb 24, 2009
So, lets discuss the movie itself. It's not even good, forget great. The screenplay has gaping holes, the storyline is ridiculous, the performances are extremely ordinary, the script is juvenile, the cinematography is as good as what we see in most hindi movies these days and the direction is average. Rehman is good, but way way short of his best (but I guess even that is good enough for the Oscars so that’s all right). And of course it has the following scene:
Poor Boy Fucked by Fate (PBFF) working as guide to American Tourist With Golden Heart (ATGH) is caught stealing and is thrashed by Insensitive Indian Goon (IIG).
PBFF while getting belted tells ATGH – ‘see..this is the real India’.
ATGH stops IIG, scolds him, hands PBFF a C note and tells him ‘this is the real America’.
Amazing!! Real goose bump and lumpy throat stuff right?
And the reaction!! Funniest thing yesterday was how both the British and Indian media were going bonkers that ‘their movie’ had won. And there were celebrations in the Bandra slums and in Pali Hill bungalows. At the end of the day, the hype is all about Bollywood. This entire ‘spontaenous eruption of joy’ has been carefully choreographed since the BAFTA nominations. So, while the movie ran to empty theatres across Mumbai, the film fraternity came out with media bytes blazing – no doubt mentally rearranging their dates to accommodate Hollywood directors they think would be lining up after this phenomenon.
Was the reaction similar when Pt Ravi Shankar or Pt Zakir Hussain got the Grammy? Or when Ray (who???) won the Oscar?
As Borat would say…’Naaaaat!!!’.
Jan 16, 2009
BUT NOT ANY MORE. 'I can see clearly now the rain's gone' as Mr Whittaker had sung. 'I have seen the light' as Buddha said. And so here goes.
Huge hoohah in India with 2 issues - Sachin not figuring in ICC top 20 list of test batsmen and Mr Amitabh F Bachan expressing his disgust at Slumdog Millionaire showing poverty in India.
A big FUCK YOU to all of you.
Dec 3, 2008
'Who is it darling', she whispered in her ear.
'Its mommy', she said.
With trembling hands she took the phone and said 'hallo??'
A woman cackled wildly on the phone and disconnected the line.
Nov 27, 2008
Jul 15, 2008
When he bought the ticket he KNEW. He had gone for the state lottery. And the state wont cheat him. And it came as no surprise when he got the call from New York saying he had cracked the jackpot. 150 million dollars. 150 million roads to redemption. A thousand million dreams waiting to be fulfilled. Goodbye frustration. Goodbye abuse. Goodbye going to sleep and not sleeping. Hallo life.
Before entering the building he rechecked the address. As he entered the foyer he looked at the clock in the lobby. It was 8:15 AM, September 11, 2001. He would remember this date forever. He got into the elevator and pressed the button for the 98th floor.
Jul 9, 2008
He would be revered by 2 billion people and vilified by the other 2. But in the end, he was sure they will all pay homage to him. Because he had discovered the elixir of true happiness. And no one who was happy would be able to deny the fact when it will be in front of everyone to see. In one swipe, 90% of global problems will be gone. For he had discovered the ultimate pill. And it was called Manlinex.
The fundamentals behind this were always simple and for everyone to see - increase of testosterone would lead to male symptoms. The challenges were dual - how to restrict the symptoms to only affect behavior and attitudes, rather than having physical effects. And the second was how to achieve all this through a single dose achieved by a single pill (that can be administered surreptitously to an unwilling patient), rather than a long drawn out clinical process. And that was what all these years of research was about. And he was ready for the first human test case.
Everything was in place when his wife returned from work that night. The mood lighting, the soft music, the diamond bracelet and the glass of wine with the dissolved pill. He had absolutely no doubts that the pill would work and he was not wrong. The night was probably his best with his wife - where they polished off the wine and migrated to whiskey, and Richard Chamberlain gave way to Led Zep, and the living room was strewed with empty pizza boxes and cigerette ash, and the sex was uninhibited and raunchy and physical.
After it all, he laid a content and happy man. Not only for himself, for the incredible success, adulation and money he will get, but also for the millions worldwide who will live happier lives.
He felt his wife move beside him. He sat up and saw her getting ready to go out. Rubbing sleep from his eyes he asked 'Where are you going? Its almost midnight!'.
'I will be out with a few friends..will be late. You lock the door behind me', she said as she sailed out into the night.
Jul 5, 2008
It always seems that way
And Ive been thinking about you almost everyday
Thinking about the good times
Thinking about the rain
Thinking about how bad it feels alone again
Im sorry for the way things are in china
Im sorry things aint what they used to be
But more than anything else
Im sorry for myself
cause youre not here with me
Our friends ask all about you
I say youre doing fine
And I expect to hear from you almost anytime
But they all know Im crying
I cant sleep at night
They all know Im dying down deep inside
Im sorry for all the lies I told you
Im sorry for the things I didnt say
But more than anything else
Im sorry for myself
I cant believe you went away
Im sorry if I took some things for granted
Im sorry for the chains I put on you
But more than anything else
Im sorry for myself
For living without you
May 12, 2008
One can of course argue that its just trivial time pass and if someone is so insecure about their partners that they let a scrolling bar control their lives then they deserve what they get. I tend to agree as well..but thats not the point. Its the desperation for 'creative ideas' we keep on seeing on Indian television that never ceases to amaze me.
Add dollops of attitude on top of that and the impression these guys give of being the protectors of human rights, peace and democracy in the world and the combination always makes me want to grab the nearest heavy object and smash the screen in.
Apr 1, 2008
If you became a pitiable drunk?
Wallowing in your self pity,
Meandering meaninglessly through life;
And I find you sitting alone somewhere,
Surrounded by the tattered fragments of your ruined life,
Putting up a brave front
And smiling that heart wrenching smile;
And saying 'It was all worth it,
and I would do it again'.
Would I think of my life?
How it was when I was his age?
How it still is,
Now that the excuses are gone,
The parameters have changed,
The paradigms have shifted,
But my behavior hasn't.
Where everything could be justified,
Because within my heart i knew i was always right;
And the heart never lies,
And the heart beats for you night and day,
And you need to save your heart from all that pain,
And you can do that all by running away.
Mar 10, 2008
So this the official 'closure post'. Will keep on visiting your blogs..and you all know how to contact me in case my wisdom is required to guide you through the troubled waters of your lives.
Goodbye. And good luck.
Feb 28, 2008
Protects you from the torrential rain
And when the weather is fine
And its lovely to walk
You push it to some damp dark corner
And forget all about it.
But there will come some day
When you will be out in a storm
And you would reach out for one
To find its no longer there
You had neglected it for far too long
And someone has taken it away.
So, take care of that umbrella.
Did that make any sense?
Feb 20, 2008
There was another party on that he didnt particularly want to go to. He hardly knew anyone there and it was a stuffy high brow crowd. But there was nowhere else to go, and his ego was too big for him to call his friends and tell them that he was coming. So he went.
He suffered alone in that big crowd that night. Everyone else seemed to know each other and he was standing in a corner nursing his drink and cursing his luck. He saw her then in another corner of the room and she seemed to be in the same kind of situation. She was the most beautiful woman he had seen in his life. And she was alone like him in this big bad world. And he fell in love.
Today it was exactly 10 years to the day. And there was no particular reason why his mind went back to that night when he had met his wife for the first time. Except the lawyer's letter lying on the table asking him to meet for a consultation regarding the divorce proceedings. And that his mother was in the nursing home in shock. And that his son had stopped talking since being explained what it meant.
He slit his wrists that night. And while he watched his blood lazily snaking down the water in the bucket he thought of how things could have been different. But mostly, he thought of the friends he had fought with that night.
Nov 21, 2007
Sep 15, 2007
When he got back home and watched them huddled around the television watching the usual junk, THEIR junk, but he didn't shout at them or told them to switch the damned thing off as was his usual practise. Instead, he made space for himself and pulled his son on to his lap. It would be the last time he would do so. He looked across to his wife and gave her a wink and it was the first time he had done so. And when his mother reached across and caressed his hair, he allowed her to continue, and it was the first time in years that he had allowed her any such public display of affection towards him. And he thought of what might have been, how he could have lived like a human being instead of like a hunted animal, and how THEY had not made it possible for him and for thousands others like him, and his resolve strengthened.
And then he looked across to his father and saw that he was crying as he was watching the TV, one of THEIR idiotic talent shows. And he looked at the screen and saw his brother singing on a stage, and all the people watching him cheering him and loving him, then people rushing onstage to hug him and everyone spreading the message of love and brotherhood, about peace and harmony, about history and roots, about a future of togetherness..and he lurched out of the room.
He triggered the bomb at precisely 10:45 AM in the crowded market place. And in the split second before he was torn apart by the force of the blast, he thought of his grandfather's village in Punjab, and he cried.
Aug 23, 2007
I mean, do they themselves realise how they are wasting the best years of their professional lives? Or do they actually think that they are smart because they are getting away without doing any work?
Aug 6, 2007
I'm left with only tears
I must remember
Even if it takes a million years'.........The Who
If I could have asked for 3 boons, one of them definitely would have been for a chance to be a teenager in London in the swinging 60-s. I mean, can you imagine yourself in those glorious years of the british invasion? Being one of the first few people to hear bands like Beatles, The Who, Floyd, Kinks, Stones, Derek and Dominoes, Ramones etc etc etc, collecting bootlegs, queueing up in underground pubs to watch them play live, the psychedelic shows, the guitar smashing concerts, the LSD, the flower girls..
And can you imagine the devastation on hearing about the mindless deaths and breakdowns? Duan Alman, Hendrix, Morrison, Stevie Ray Vaughn, Lenon, Bonham, Barrett, the Lynrd Skynrds, Buddy...again the list is endless.
My last trip to Calcutta put me through a similar experience. A couple of musicians I knew have died. Bands I used to love have broken up. Some have given up the gig scene altogether. And the places where I used to be on first name terms with most of the people are now full of unknown faces.
And I felt old.
'The sun is the same in a relative way but you're older,
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death'.
And it wasn't a nice feeling. I think its not always a good idea to revisit the places from your past.
Jul 27, 2007
Jul 26, 2007
'I am home', the sonofabitch called out, from the living room, taking his shoes off.
'Under the bed' the bitch hissed at me, wrapping a towel around her before going out to meet him halfway. I had no options left. The bastard was bigger than me, and on top of that he was some bloody treasurer or something in the apartment complex. I knew what would happen if I got caught. At best, they would thrash the shit out of me and parade me around naked on the Gurgaon streets. At worst, they would call Aajtak or some such nosey parker motherfucking channel and blacken my face live on national TV. So..I dived under the bed.
I hate being under beds. Even when I was kid playing hide and seek I didnt like them. I hated cobwebs, cockroaches and forgotten junk. I hated the claustrophobia. I hated the smell. And in this case, I hated having to lie there hearing the groans and pants.
Because, nympho bloody bitch that she is, the escapade had made her horny. I saw their legs as they entered the room and then predictably, saw the towel slide to the floor. She giggled playfully and I saw one of her legs start rubbing the bastards pants.
'I am tired darling', he said, and I mentally cheered. But..the bitch was not to be denied so easily.
'A quick one sweetheart', she whispered, guiding him towards the bed, 'I need it badly'.
'You always do', he protested, as I rooted for him to stand up and be a man, 'but you also have to realise I just back from work'. But it was too late. As their weight settled on the bed, I watched aghast as one by one his discarded clothes started floating down on the floor. Soon, she was moaning and he was groaning, and then the bed was shaking and creaking and it started becoming so fucking unbearable that I started toying with the idea of trying to sneak out.
But I had underestimated the bitch. Just when her frenzied screams gave me a glimmer of hope that she was getting done, a hand snaked down and grasped my privates. I mean it was bloody unbelievable! The bloody woman was trying to fondle me while she was bloody shagging her hubby and I was just supposed to bloody lay down and bloody take it? Who the bloody hell did she bloody think I was? But my bloody dick has a mind of its own. I mean it actually quite exciting and all, and soon it was too late to resist and I gave in.
We all were done soon after that. I mean this communal orgasm was pretty ridiculous! It would have pretty funny if I had seen it on TV but at that time I wasnt laughing. She kissed him and said 'That was the best darling. Wait for me while I take a shower...and then we can do it again'.
We both groaned. She went in.
'You can come out now', he said, and I almost had a cardiac. I tried to make myself believe that he was talking to his wife, but I knew.
'Come out unless you want me to call the security', he said again without raising his voice, and I knew I was finished. With as much dignity as I could muster, I came out bare arsed and stood in front of him like a bloody kid caught stealing candy.
He measured me up very slowly and thoroughly and gave a satisifed grunt.
'You'll do', he said, lighting a cigeratte. 'From now on come here every Saturday afternoon..2-4PM..else your wife gets an anonymous call'.
I was hugely relieved. Fucker was a pervert who got off watching his wife getting screwed!! This was turning into something very good, I mentally gloated. Grinning I started putting my clothes on till I remembered something.
'Boss you forgot something..she goes to her kitty party thingies on Saturdays', I reminded him kindly.
'I know. You will come for me. Why do you think she sleeps around like a slut? I dont like women. But you will keep both of us happy'.
Jul 11, 2007
'Try it', he said, with a smile, 'and you wont regret it'.
'But its too much for me. What can I possibly do with one that big?', she asked in anguish, as if its been shoved down her throat.
'Its not always that you will come across one this big', he said, obscenely caressing and fondling it as he spoke. The woman seemed rivetted. It was as if she was hypnotised by the size and texture of it. And sure enough, as if in a daze, she reached out and grasped it and pulled it towards herself.
'How much?', she asked, as she bent down and with a long, deep breath inhaled its fragrance.
'For you, 12 rupees a kg', the sabziwala said, wrapping up the cucumber in a take away pack.
And the spell broke.
Well I am sure u have heard some variation or the other of this story. But this is something I have been facing on and off for the last 6 years or so. Since 6 years, I have been living a so-called 'lonely' life. Staying 'away' from my family, commuting to meet my wife and kid, returning to an empty bed after work and whatever after office activity i choose to pursue, taking extended weekends to visit my family whenever I feel like, deciding to visit relatives and friends on the spur of a moment if I feel like it irrespective of their location in India, going out on family trips to some goddamn weekend break place if the city is getting too claustrophobic..i don't know, generally sleeping well.
Some people are so concerned about me. Be it some childhood friends, some casual aquantainces, some faceless meddlers...they are convinced that I am miserable. 'Some' is the operative word here. Anyone who knows me well is happy for me. Because I won't trade my life (at the moment) for anyone else's.
So all you people..thanks for your concerns..but no thanks. Get a life and let me live mine.
Jul 4, 2007
I cant. And the reasons are obvious.
So, I refuse.
And its a good thing that I have never expressed my feelings to you. And that you don't have a clue. And that this entire tragedy resides entirely in my imagination.
Jun 19, 2007
Maybe it is. Maybe not. That's not the point. The point is, Hollywood (and then automatically Bollywood and then any wood) INSISTS that 'the golden age has gone'. The age of communal living, sharing, helping, adjusting, frustating...i dont know, i have run out of 'ing' words. But that's maybe because i have never lived in a chawl, or a 'para' or whatever vernacular a commune goes by.
AAAAH! The concept of the chawl! Where else will one find a potboiler such as a chawl, where everyone's worry is everone else's and every joy, sorrow, rage, madness is distributed and broken down in tiny little pieces, so that finally there is nothing left, apart from the numbing dreary meaningless existence where nothing really matters, where it all comes down to the lowest common denominator, who wakes up to fill the buckets, who gets the first shot at the virgin loo, who gets the first steaming loaf of bread from the yawning delivery boy. But then, at the end of day, if u havent done anything of the above, have failed to achieve each and every one of these magnificient tasks, well..the chawl is waiting. You go back, and find other people who are at your level, failures in all that they have attempted today, and cosy, comfortable and cushioned in the communal feeling..that fraternity of failed brotherhood, a brotherhood where everyone is happy, and no one dares voice their deepest, darkest insecurities, where brothers in arms perish together, happy for the warmth, succumbing to that numbing nothingness.
So..which 'chawl' are you in?
Jun 13, 2007
One can't be hyocrite when it comes to religion, can one?
Jun 11, 2007
So the question that popped up was...what defines a movie experience? When does bad cinema capture one's imagination? Does a chilling movie like Taxi Driver not stay with you because you do not relate to it? And by the same logic, does a rank bad movie like KANK grip me enough to make me sit through it because i can identify with the characters?
I dont know. I guess I should stick to No Entry in the future.
Jun 1, 2007
May 30, 2007
The last few days have been such that I have decided to write things down. I am not much of a writer, but I just want to record the events for future reference. You see, I have this nagging suspicion that things are not as they appear, that everyone around me is wearing a mask, watching my every move, uttering memorized lines while speaking to me. You may think I am being paranoid, but let me start at the beginning and let you be the judge.
Last Sunday I woke up without a memory. I didnt know who I was, where I was, what I was. I dialled random numbers from my cell phone, different people called me different names and spoke to me in different languages and I didnt have the guts to ask them how I knew them or how they knew me. I spent the entire day in terrified loneliness, totally helpless and desperate with no idea what the next step should be. It was then that the doorbell rang and I opened the door to find a beautiful woman standing there..and when I looked into her eyes I knew that she was my lover. It all came out then, my fear and my helplessness, and she took me in her arms and I knew things will be all right. We discussed our future and she told me not to worry, that we should let time heal things. She has moved in with me and in the evenings, we lie in each other's arms and she tells me how I used to love her, about the wonderful moments we had shared, and the beautiful life that lay ahead of us. Looking into her eyes, I believe her.
That's it. Its been over a week now. No contact, no news. No responses to messages. I think I have had it. Probably its best that this ends this way. We were meandering towards nothingness and I guess its fitting that the end came as a fizzle rather than a bang. Anyway, I sincerely hope he has a happy life..and I desperately hope that I do too.
This will be the last entry before I burn the diary. All the pages filled with angst and tears after he dumped me are behind me now. I always believed that if I didnt give up hope he will come back to again some day. The months of playing 'good friends' are thankfully gone. He is now mine. Completely. And forever.
May 17, 2007
Girl: God I hate that slimeball! The way he looks at me makes my skin crawl man!
Boy: Yeah..he is a total frustrated arsehole yaar!
G: I mean, like, if his eyes had hands all the girls in this office will be walking aroung nude.
B: Well thats the only way he will ever be able to undress a girl anyways.
G: Doesnt the fuck realise how obvious he is? Cant he bloody make out that all girls are aware of his roaming eyes?
B: Chutiya thinks thats the way to get a response.
G: Yeah right! Like a kick to his balls.
B: Haha...be careful though! That might make him think that you want to be physical with him!
G: UGH!! Whats with guys anyway? Why the fuck do they always have to think with their dicks? Cant they fucking view women in any other position except lying under them with their thighs open?
B: Hey come on! Dont generalise man! I accept that most of the fuckers are like that. Its how they have been brought up, what company they mix in, what kind of sexual experiences (or lack of) that they had..
G: Maybe you are right..i mean i am totally comfortable with you. i just hope those fuckers learn something from u dude.
B: Yeah, well, one can only hope..shall we go?
Pub - 7:30 PM
Boy1: Abey saale aaj G se saath bohut khusur fusur kar raha tha behnchod?
Boy: Kuch nehi yaar aise hi.
B1: Shut up man..bol na behnchod kya scene hai.
B: Abey sahi maal hai baap..do teen din me aa jayegi khopchi me.
B1: Boss tu bhagwan hai.
B: Saath saath reh beta bohut kuch sikhega.
May 16, 2007
He had to be careful. The last time he was caught,his father had given him a hiding his arse still remembered. Joseph was normally a god fearing, mild man. But he was a fanatic about discipline. And Hienrich knew that he had just about reached the last few inches of the fuse that was wired to the keg of gunpowder that resided in Joseph's mind. So, he had been careful for the last few months. But today the temptation was too much.
He spotted his target soon. It was a beautiful Labrador pup, about 2 or 3 months old. And it was sleeping alone on the pavement, it's ears pricked and eyes closed. It looked so beautiful, so vulnerable, that Hienrich's heart swelled with love for the helpless creature. He took out the glass and carefully positioned it so that the sunrays focused on the delicate soft pink tissues of the inner ear. As the pup screamed out in pain he moved in for the kill, the blunt hammer halfway out of his pocket. He felt a sudden movement from behind and before he realised what happened, a hand clamped down on his shoulder and another wrenched the hammer out of his curled fingers..he turned around with a thundering heart and his worst fears came true..it was that wretched Rabbi Efrati again.
'You are sick', he said, 'and its time Joseph realised the depths of your depravity'.
He took the struggling, kicking boy to his home and when Joseph opened the door, one look at the rabbi and the hammer and the struggling boy in his hands told Joseph the entire story. He grabbed both and before the rabbi could say anything, the door slammed in his face.
'I think you and me have to talk boy', Joseph said, taking out the horsewhip from the cupboard.
Late that night, Hienrich lay face down on his cot, with his flayed back swathed in bandages and made a vow.
'I will get you, you fucking jew', Hienrich Himmler said.
May 2, 2007
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
Poet: W.H. Auden
Kick arse rendering: John Hannah in 4 Weddings And A Funeral.
Apr 19, 2007
To give you some background, this team is comprised mostly of guys fresh out of college or out barely a few months back. And let me tell you, for the new blokes, the first few 'office parties' have a lot of significance. If i try to recollect personal experiences, it used to feel like I have finally become an adult - being able to booze with a boss 15 years my senior, and being treated as an equal, irrespective of their knowledge, standing and years of experience. So, a lot of these guys were pretty excited.
We reached the place. It was a restaurant. A family one. With 4 sitter dining tables. And soft music. And NO BOOZE.
Shit I pitied these guys man! Everyone was roaming around with a dazed expression on their faces. I mean nobody had a clue! It was 7PM and the buffet was laid out. Some optimists refused to believe that there could'nt be no provision for booze, but by 8 everyone was pretty convinced. So, one by one, they shuffled towards the buffet tables and dinner started.
And mingling with them, with a kind, beatific expression of a proud patriarch, was the big boss, asking everyone to enjoy themselves to the fullest, saying that they deserved this 'treat' after the hard work they had put in. And the scream was that, this guy actually believed it himself! And you should have seen the expressions on the guys' faces man!!
Anyway, I had a great time. Set an all time personal record - had food, dessert and coffee for dinner for the first time in my 'adult' life. And being the kindly soul that I am, I have promised these guys that I would take them out next week for a booze-only party.
You guys are invited as well.
Apr 16, 2007
There is a huge ruckus about Richard Gere necking with Shilpa Shetty yesterday. And why should'nt there be? We are from the land of mughal and victorian slavery. We dont have sex. Some dirty bastards wrote the fucking Kama Sutra. Their bastard cousins sculpted the Khajuraho temples. Our widows shave their heads and eat veg to make themselves unattrative to 'preying males'. Our children fill up forms where there is no space for 'mother's name'. Our father (of the nation) slept with his nieces to prove that he was above the 'weakness of the flesh'. In all his greatness he went on record saying that he failed....
But so what? We are a nation that respects women. Where our country is our mother, where the mother and sister are goddesses, where words like 'behnchod' and 'motherchod' are more reviled than 'uncivilised' or 'uneducated'. But that again is not important..
What is important is that for the last 779 years we have conquered our sexual drive. We are a nation that believes, truly madly and deeply, that sex is BAD!! Our movies show swaying flowers when couples kiss. Our heroines get slapped around by 'manly' heroes and then go home and justify the fact saying that the its the responsibility of the woman in the house to maintain peace and harmony. 2.7665% of our women achieve orgasms, 97.2335% of those who dont, have some 'problem'. We are a country where a guy indulging in a screwing spree is a stud while a girl doing the same is a slut. We are a nation of 'men'.
So Richard..lay off man. Do your shit with the Julias of the world. In our country, even the whores are virgins. If they are not, it because they had been raped by an uncle or an office boss and they have been forced into that world. You can take your charms elsewhere...'it don't impress us much'.
|You Are a Pinky|
You are fiercely independent, and possibly downright weird.
A great communicator, you can get along with almost anyone.
You are kind and sympathetic. You support all your friends - and love them for who they are.
You get along well with: The Ring Finger
Stay away from: The Thumb
So what happened was that there was this family. Handsome dude, sexy wife and a smart 6 year old son. And they go to the zoo on a nippy Sunday morning and the kid has the time of his life. They come to the elephant enclosure and the father tells them to wait there while he gets something to eat.
The elephant was in heat and was standing there with a gigantic hard on. The boy spots the appendage and tugs at his mother's T shirt and asks her 'mom, mom look!! what's that coming out of the elephant's stomach?'
She looks and gets all red and tells him 'that's nothing. look at the tigers'.
'What nothing?' he asks. 'Look at that. Something is coming out of his stomach!'
'I told you its nothing', she snaps. 'Keep quiet!'
The bewildered kid decides to ask his dad. His father usually talked to him in a language he could understand. So, when the father returns with the chips and sodas, he sidles up to him and whispers 'dad! what's that?'
Dad looks and tells him 'that's the elephant's dick son'.
The kid asks 'then why was mom saying it was nothing?'
Dad says 'son..to your mom, even an elephant's dick is nothing'.
Apr 14, 2007
Apr 9, 2007
Civilised conversations had long since ceased. Any attempt to do so invariably degenerated into mud slinging exercises. But these days the sheer weight of cohabitation was proving to be too much for her. On one of the rear occasions when they had sat down and talked like mature people, they had decided that at least for the sake of the child, they would make a final attempt to coexist. 'Working relationships' they were called, at least according to the hollywood movies that they enjoyed watching separately. But she had never imagined that his sheer presence could be so difficult to handle. Not talking to each other could not prevent her from hearing him talking to others, and in each conversation, all that she detested about him crashed on her eardrums in unforgiving waves, choking her with the bile that welled up inside her till her whole body trembled with disgust, leaving her head throbbing with pure, white hate.
She woke up today knowing that something had changed. After ages she felt calm. She saw things in a totally different light. Nothing could justify this existence, this utter wastage of a life, this pathetic attempt to keep up appearances and in the process making things worse. There was no point in trying to enact something for a 4 year old. Soon he will be old enough to see through the facade. And by then it may be too late. She wanted out. She wanted her life back. She wanted to live for herself.
She heard him turn the key in the lock. She went out to meet him and tell him about her decision. Their eyes locked as they faced each other. He dropped his bag and ran to her and fell on his knees and hugged her waist.
'I cannot live without you. I love you. Lets start again', he said.
Apr 4, 2007
So ok I arrived at a theory to explain this. Uncles fart because they are 'socially challenged'. Goras fart because they have confidence in their superiority.
So why can't I?
Apr 2, 2007
This went on for some time. But it seemed that B wanted more. And the fates arranged for a situation where it became suddenly possible for B to have S completely. It so happened that B's parents were going on a 10 day trip to Sikkim and B had the run of the house. And so B called all S's 'friends' for lunch one day, plied them with food and begged them to convince S to spend a night there. B had some contacts in high places and promises of jobs and substantial donations for that year's pujas were hinted at. And so, they took on the love brokerage.
These guys came and it was long hard and bitter battle. S stood his ground, refusing to be pimped around but his friends were up to it. They tried ridicule (can't you handle B for one night you wimp). They tried cajoling (just a night yaar. dont do anything if you dont want to). They tried emotional blackmail (think of T yaar, he will get the job if you do this). They even tried threats (boss if you are so adamant then we have issues about your loyalty towards friends). Whatever factor it was due to, or perhaps because he was so sick of this whole thing and wanted to put an end to it all, S finally agreed.
D day came. S didn't come. A frantic B called up all his friends and asked them to find him and bring him home. B also expressed doubts about the abilty of these guys to organise the next year's pujas. If they cant convince one guy how did they think they are going to convince the people in the neighborhood to part with donations, B was heard muttering. Tempers frayed. Decisions were taken. Everyone bayed for S's blood.
When they reached his place they found a crowd outside. They pushed inside. S was hanging from the ceiling fan.
Drastic you think? You see, B was a man.
Let me know. Its been a dilemma for some time.
There was this creaking swaying suspension bridge (that looked about a 100 years old) where we were fitted with harnesses and ropes. Then you are supposed to lean back over the water while someone holds the rope and then lets go. After a free fall of about 3 seconds you crash into the river and go under.
Absolutely amazing experience man! Try it if you get the chance.
Mar 29, 2007
I dont why the fuck she launched into me from the first day. At first it was trivial stuff like asking me to carry her books back to the staff room. Then she started dropping me off home after school. And then asking me to stay back after school to help me with my homework. And the constant fidgeting with my uniform - adjusting my tie, tucking in my shirt, zipping up a half open fly.
And then one day, she called me to her house one hot sultry afternoon to 'amusez-vous certains' as she put it. Have some fun indeed. That afternoon finished my confidence level with the opposite sex.
Before I entered I heard her splashing in the pool. And when i reached the poolside, I saw her cutting through the water in long streaking strokes. She was a great swimmer, but that's not what I was staring at with my mouth open. It was the first time I was seeing a 2 piece bikini in real life..and Nick Carter hadn't prepared me for that. As an Indian kid surrounded by saree clad women, I had grown up seeing bare midriffs of various sizes, shapes and colours. Never had I thought that it could also be something like that. And when she came out of the water and opened her cap to let her blonde hair cascade out, I thought I saw it all. But I hadn't.
She saw me gaping and a peculiar shadow crossed her face. "Venez ici", she beckoned, patting the lounge chair next to her. I moved like an automation, and as I neared her and saw her leaning back and looking at me with a peculiar half-smile, and I saw her breasts heaving as she was catching her breath, and her nipples straining against the soft bikini top, and tiny droplets of water breaking up the sunrays into rainbows like a prism and to my horror I felt my pinky rushing up to meet my slack jaw.
"You helping me to put oil on my back, yes cherie", she asked me, and I dumbly nodded my head. Oil on your back? I would oil and entire leper colony if I can have one more chance to see you like this, I thought. She gave me a bottle and and lay down face down on the chair and for the first time I can feast my eyes on her body, without worrying that she would know I am doing so. I poured some oil onto my trembling hands, squeezed my eyes shut and touched her back and it felt as if I was getting jolted by electric sparks that travelled from my fingertips and spread through my body, leaving goosebumps on my skin and making the hairs on my arms and legs stand up. I started making circular motions on her back, gently to start with and then faster and faster, but then stopped when I heard her moaning, fearing that I had hurt her.
She sat up and looked at me. I looked back hypnotised as she reached back and untied the string holding her bikini top. As it fell away I realised that this was the most beautiful thing I had seen in my entire life. "Front I can do cherie", said with that curious half smile, and I felt my heart shatter into a billion pieces.
"You go and make swim now", she said, and starting applying the lotion on her breasts. It was too much for me. I felt something burst and to my utter disbelief I discovered that I had pee-ed in my pants. I am saying pee, but to me it felt like my wee wee had gone utterly crazy. I tried to mumble something and slide away before she saw me, but my worst fears were confirmed when I looked her and saw her staring at the patch that was spreading in my pants and her hand groped for the towel lying at her side.
"You go home now, yes Neil?", she asked me in a small voice.
Fighting back my tears I ran all the way back home. I switched to German the next week.
Mar 28, 2007
"What does this fucker Chidambaram think of himself? Look at what he has achieved.."
"I cant believe how Aajtak can call themselves a news channel..did you see..."
"I dont know what's wrong with these Jats/Kannadis/Bongs..dont you think.."
"Ray was better because..."
"Its not a question of good woman or good wife. What i feel is..."
AAAARGH!!!!!!!! I am sick of opinions, discussions and debates man! Just want to go to a secluded beach and lie under a beach umbrella with a good book, a chilled beer and a stray dog.
People talk so much.
Mar 27, 2007
Mar 23, 2007
Mine was huge letdown. Except for my birth (which probably is quite enough in the history of mankind), nothing major has ever happened on that day. I sheer desperation I am listing a few events:
- Socrates executed
- British Labour Party formed
- Soviets invade Afghanisthan
- Dale Earnhardt Sr and Jr win the Daytona 500 (6 years apart from each other)
- Louis XV, Galileo born
Bloody hell!! Let me know yours.
Fuck my liver. I am not quitting booze.
Mar 22, 2007
Mar 13, 2007
'Wait..I have one with Amitabh as well', she said, pulling out another album from a tin trunk that contained all her possesions and memories. 'But with Amitji I couldn't touch him', she said, giggling and blushing as she showed him the snap where she was standing coyly next to the Big B, decked up in ghastly chiffon silks of pinks and greens, but still beautiful with her breathless excitement.
'You are beautiful', he told her, giving her a quick hug. She clung to him, but he had to go. Away from her dark hole. Leaving her with her loneliness, with her pictures of bollywood actors' posters.
Mar 2, 2007
Oh! I forgot to tell you that we were in bangkok..and BKK has these places called go-go bars (i don't know why) where the concept is that everyone (from the waitress to the pole dancer to the toilet attendant or to the sultry siren sitting in the next table) are available..for conversation i mean (what did you think?).So he liked this waitress, and every order was a looong and detailed one, just so she would stand next to him, and their fingers would touch accidentally while pointing out 'kau pak kai' in the menu card. And ultimately, inevitably, Mr Jack Daniels had his day, and he asked her out.
He came back (alone) with stars in his eyes. What a day it had been, he said. There were so many things in Bangkok that we poor souls had no idea about! Especially the boat ride, sitting on the deck with their arms around each other, eating Moo Chops and sipping Singha beer....man! i felt like loser!
And the day came when she arrived unannounced to his place, for the night. I mumbled an excuse about having some work (i was the flat mate u see), went to the nearest pool joint, lost to all the beautiful waitresses, went to the german steak house, over-tipped the lissome lass pouring dollops of Worcestershire Steak sauce, did this did that..looked at my watch (is he a superman? i dont know..better give him the benefit of the doubt)..tentatively scratched on the door, gingerly turned the knob..and the door opened.
There he was, sitting with an inscrutable expression on his face. My cynisim screamed to me that something was wrong, my romanticism told me he was in love (was it the same thing?). Before i could make up my mind he started the narrative..
'When she came in i couldn't believe my eyes man. I had always hoped that she would be easy, but somehow had wished that i was the exception, rather than the rule. And when she came in that's exactly what she said..told me that she didnt know what she was doing in my bedroom..she felt lost when she thought of me......'
i switched off..........yada yada yada yada......
'i had never seen a bra like that'
(i switched on)...
'how many have you seen before', i asked him...
'what do u think i am a chutiya? since i was so small (he said indicating a 2cm gap between 2 fingers in front of his zipper) i have been seeing them..fluttering on a clothesline on the next terrace..with their blue starch marks..some even with safety-pins in the back, and once i saw...'
'ok, ok i get you..so how was this one, if i may ask', i said.
the dreamy look returned..
'i dont know yaar..it was so different..i dont know how to say this..inside there was like something man..like you used to wear chest gaurds while playing cricket na?'
'uh oh', i muttered.
'what do you mean, uh uh', he barked out. 'u think i am a chutiya or what? i know about some women who have smaller breasts and use something to look big.. remember the time you went out on a date with napkin stuffed in your chaddi and...'
'sorry boss..i was just joking yaar. aage bol bhai'
'chutiya' he muttered. 'anyway, so she saw me looking and suddenly she pulled me up and took all my clothes off. i swear, the last time someone did that so fast was when i was 4 and we were entering kalighat temple and i told maa i had done potty in my pant..but then i told you na she was a nice girl. she could understand that i could not take the first step, and she also was new to this experience..'
i switched off..........yada yada yada yada......
'..and there was naked'
(i switched on)...
'i mean i took her bra off..she was so beautiful yaar..so pure..and when she kissed me it was so beautiful yaar..and she was so innocent. she said she was seeing a dick for the first time..and she said she hadn't seen a bigger one before, and this was the first time also...i didn't understand..anyway, i was so happy and i told her to take her skirt off because i thought i will spoil her nice skirt. she told me this is the first time please switch off the light..'
'uh oh', i muttered..
'again you are doing uhuh u motherchod? remember the time you told T to switch of the light and you will show her magic and you...'
'shut up yaar..that was 16 yrs back man'.
'exactly..she is also same innocent like that..chutiya cynical bastard..anyway..so somehow i controlled and went dripping to the switch..i could hear her unzipping her skirt behind me..and the sound of her underwear going down her legs..i turned the light off, groped my way back and she was on the couch with her arms open..'
'sahi hai baap..chaa gaya beta'
'shut up chutiya sun pehle..i laid my head down against her breasts..'
'abhi bola kuch hai nehi'
'motherchod gaar maar dunga..sun na yaar..it was so nice..she said i was the nicest man she has ever met. all people only use her yaar, they think just pay money and make her do anything..yaar men are bastards, seriously. the amount of torture and harassment. and she said i was the one yaar..she wanted to share a secret with me..'
'let me guess..she was a whore', i said with a smirk.
'raand teri maa chutiya..sun na yaar..she took my hand and placed it on her breast..and slowly guided it down to her stomach..yaar how can they have so flat abs man..and then down. sahi tha yaar..trimmed and shaped..and then i felt it'
'it', he indicated with his hand.
'IT?? MOTHERCHOD WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU SAYING??'
'abey loure sun na..its not her fault..she just wants money for the operation..she is otherwise perfect yaar..she showed me so many things one can do even if a girl doesn't have that..it was an eye opener for me yaar'.
'i dont believe i am having this conversation..u mean u actually...??'
'sun na yaar...just drop your fucking know all attitute for once..let me show you'.
Mar 1, 2007
Its really been a long time since I been on a nature trail.
Feb 21, 2007
The concert was great..the sound, the visuals, the props, the hands and of course Roger himself. I had gone for the 'In the Flesh' tour in 2002 as well and had sorely missed Gilmour. But this time around the hands were magnificient and the lead guitar riffs gladdened the hearts of even floyd bigots like me. All in all..an evening to remember. But...
I was saddened to see that Roger had to come down to our level. His lyrics used to subtle, his anti bush sentiments used to be delightfully scornful. But subtlety is wasted on the non-occidental populace..so his latest song has lines like
'Are these the people that we should bomb
Are we so sure they mean us harm
Is this our pleasure, punishment or crime
Is this a mountain that we really want to climb
The road is hard, hard and long
Put down that two by four
This man would never turn you from his door
Oh George! Oh George!
That Texas education must have fucked you up when you were very small'
Pretty childish stuff i think..but these were the only lyrics that were displayed on the screen along with the song..and hence the only lyrics the srk-karan-bigb-lovers understood..so they cheered wildly and everyone was happy.
But then dont listen to me..i am just a cynical bastard.
Feb 20, 2007
Feb 16, 2007
tick tock tick tock tick tock
But..if you start getting comments on your respective blogs from someone called IamNotShuv or something like that..and if you click on the profile and go to a blog with XXX nostalgia..please dont let on that you know its me.
Feb 7, 2007
Isn't it an amazing shot? And you know why? Because the black camels are just the shadows of the actual camels (the white specks) shot from vertically overhead.
Taken by George Steinmetz for the National Geographic Turkey.
Seems like I have finally met my match in photography.
That was on the road to Rohtang Pass, at midnight on a freezing full moon night. But that comes later. Let me start at the beginning.
Last Wednesday I suddenly came to know that all the top bosses are going to Manali for a 3 day workshop and I was supposed to join them. That could have meant 2 things - i would be promoted or fired. I didnt spend too many sleepless nights wondering which one it would be and utilised Thursday digging out my winter clothing from their moth balled existences.
The flight was memorable in one way - the propeller driven 30 seater Air Deccan airplane. Before boarding I suddenly got this premonition that I should talk to my son once before the thing took off but my fears were unfounded - we landed safely in Kulu an hour later on a nippy sunny afternoon.
4 of us had already decided to use this trip to freak out and so it wasnt surprising that we 'accidently' landed up in the same car for the hour long drive to Manali. A couple of stops for beer and steaming hot trouts later we entered the beautiful Holiday Inn hotel, just on the outskirts of Manali.
The post lunch kickoff meeting confirmed that out of the 2 professional paths, the powers to be had decided on the former, and the rest of the trip was gone in somehow going through the 10 hour meetings, freaking out for 8 hours and crashing for 6 hours.
There were a couple of great experiences...with one great thing in common. Manala Cream is reputed to be the best hash in the country, and boy, did it live up to its reputation! We procured a 'tola' from a small roadside shop in Manali and the last joint was smoked outside the airport before boarding the return flight. And it was AMAZING! Like 5 of us went out at 11:30 PM for a walk outside and suddenly found ourselves flagging down a car and heading towards Rohtang pass. We went as far as the road was open and then wandered around the snow for an hour in the biting sub zero temperatures. And the next day there was this amazing 2 hour trek up a mountain, with the reefers and the beers, and then paragliding down to the amazingly beautiful Kulu valley.
Well I am not much of a travel writer. But if you havent been there definitely plan (and not in the peak tourist season). Here are some of the pics..maybe they would help make up your mind.
Jan 29, 2007
India will win the world cup by bundling out the aussies for 128.
All u guys out there cash in your life savings and go the nearest bookie.
Jan 18, 2007
So what if she is from bloody Bombay, filled with those bloody ghatis and shiv sainiks who want to throw all bongs out? And who can blame them? The bloody bongs are a bloody lazy and parochial lot. And they also want the Gujjus and Panjus out, because those baniyas control 85% of Bombay. And dont forget the bloody biharis and bhaiyas from UP who make up for 97% of the auto and taxi drivers and daily wage labourers. Come to think of it, throw out all the bloody kannadis as well. They make up about 98.2% of all waiters and cooks in the eating joints. And the bloody backward castes, throwing the city in disarray on Ambedkar's birthday or if someone damages his statue. And throw out all the kattus man..all of them are Paki sympathisers and harbor ISI agents in their homes.
And how dare the brits be racist towards us? Our culture goes back 5000 years when they were living in caves. All goras are fucking with each other all the time. Fathers raping daughters, mothers fucking milkmen..thats what they are. And dont get me started on the blacks. All of them are drug dealers. And all black males use their huge black tools to entice innocent white women and fuck them. And can you trust the bloody hispanics? All bloody illegal immigrants, stealing jobs from honest ctizens. And the bloody chinamen, all coming from Taiwan, Vietnam, Cambodia and Japan and all those Chinese countries and making china towns and creating trouble.
But, all that is besides the point. How DARE they subject Shilpa to racial abuse??
Jan 12, 2007
You are The Devil
Materiality. Material Force. Material temptation; sometimes obsession
The Devil is often a great card for business success; hard work and ambition.
Perhaps the most misunderstood of all the major arcana, the Devil is not really "Satan" at all, but Pan the half-goat nature god and/or Dionysius. These are gods of pleasure and abandon, of wild behavior and unbridled desires. This is a card about ambitions; it is also synonymous with temptation and addiction. On the flip side, however, the card can be a warning to someone who is too restrained, someone who never allows themselves to get passionate or messy or wild - or ambitious. This, too, is a form of enslavement. As a person, the Devil can stand for a man of money or erotic power, aggressive, controlling, or just persuasive. This is not to say a bad man, but certainly a powerful man who is hard to resist. The important thing is to remember that any chain is freely worn. In most cases, you are enslaved only because you allow it.
What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.
Jan 10, 2007
"May the good Lord be with you
Down every road you roam
And may sunshine and happiness
surround you when you're far from home
And may you grow to be proud
Dignified and true
And do unto others
As you'd have done to you
Be courageous and be brave
And in my heart you'll always stay
Forever Young, Forever Young"
- Rod Stewart, Forever Young
Thanks for the thousands of hours of pleasure Rod.
Jan 9, 2007
I am thinking that all my good peoples who have knowing me by reading this blog also do start and see how much good funness it is giving to the mind. Maybe I become famous when all world people having talking like this all the time and making happy talking all the time. Because like this no somebody can be having angry talks and have fighting with good friends or somebodies and every peoples have happy and smiling lifes.
Jan 8, 2007
Thou shalt make thyself respectable to people who matter to thee.
A wide spectrum resolution such as this has got one major advantage. If, at the end of the year, I find that I have drunk myself silly, have not exercised, have not been a good father, son, husband, friend, employee, citizen or human being...well, I have just broken ONE resolution, not 127.
That would give me a good feeling moving into the next year.
Jan 4, 2007
Someone told me long ago
There's a calm before the storm,
It's been comin' for sometime.
When it's over so they say
It'll rain on a sunny day,
Shining down like water!
I wanna know: have you ever seen the rain?
I wanna know: have you ever seen the rain
Comin' down on a sunny day
Yesterday and days before
Sun is cold and rain is hot,
Been that way for all my time.
Till forever on it goes
Thru the circle fast and slow,
It can't stop I wonder!
I wanna know, have you ever seen the rain?
I wanna know, have you ever seen the rain
Comin' down on a sunny day?
I wanna know, have you ever seen the rain?
I wanna know, have you ever seen the rain
Comin' down on a sunny day?
And today i read this ...If only I had blogged the idea down!!!
There goes my million buck royalty paycheck...BOOHOOOOHOOO!!!!
Dec 28, 2006
It’s not a nice world.
Kids have this amazingly rigid socio-economic structure. When we were kids the economic part did not exist. Someone was branded a whiney, for example, irrespective of whether he was the son of the local coal shop owner or the son of the para doctor. There was no concept of differentiating people based on their parents’ money, stature or social position. Now I see these kids leading sheltered lives in enclosed residential complexes, with no exposure to the outside world and no idea of how people less fortunate than them are living in the outside world. Most children (and unfortunately their parents) are downright callous and indifferent about the poor and homeless. My son’s idea of charity and social responsibility is that when one of his toys breaks he keeps it aside saying that he would give it away to a street child to play with. Similarly, my contribution towards poverty eradication is to pay for the education of a couple of faceless girls through monthly deductions from my credit card. But then again, I am rambling.
Coming back to the kids, their world beats the competitiveness and ruthlessness of any high-pressure, performance oriented MNC or the machiavellian schemes of a coalition political party. It’s a dog eat dog world out there, allegiances are sworn and forgotten at the bat of an eyelid, bosom friends discarded and ridiculed in front of newly found soul-mates, shy insecure loners ganged up against and banished to their pitiful ignored existences and loud, brash, aggressive kids (or quiet, arrogant kids with the latest Nintendo or Gameboy) suck up to, adored and followed around. Only the fittest can survive here, and ‘fit’ is a person who doesn’t form any lasting friendships, who doesn’t display any conscience pangs and who can go with the tide and always duck the big wave coming their way.
I make no judgment or attempts to influence their world. I won’t stick around long enough to either change their directions or witness the world where the kids of today have taken over. But I can’t prevent my heart from feeling a twinge of regret or a shaft of fear, for innocence lost and purity killed.
Dec 26, 2006
Dec 20, 2006
Not everyone was so lucky though. There were some poor souls who got jobs where the office did not give them briefcases to carry (after all, not everyone can aspire to be an Insurance Salesman, Maintenance Engineer or Sales Executive). These guys were treated with absolute disdain and we used to ridicule these poor bastards when we used to occupy our newly inherited positions of importance in the club house. 'Imagine', we used to say, with a superior smirk and knowing winks, 'Biltuda goes to office without a briefcase and have you seen the superior expression on his face? As if we dont know what a shitpot he must have joined'.
One such dada must have shared the same opinion as us. And after scrapping through his BCom Pass and landing a job somewhere, he started for his first day in office with a gleaming VIP swinging in his hands, looking as if the moment he would be approached, he would point the damn thing and mutter 'go ahead, make my day'. But we knew Keshtoda, and his academic record and his personal magnetism. And we were pretty sure that it was quite beyond him to secure a job that would require him to carry a briefcase. This was discussed in great detail over the next few days and finally a courageous handful of decided to waylay him one morning and demand to inspect what was inside.
That fateful morning, we waited at the curb, with hearts beating slightly faster, but secure in the knowledge that the para would get a scoop that would be talked about for ages to come, ensuring out place in para folklore for eternity to come. Sure enough, Keshtoda was challenged, his briefcase siezed, opened, while he blabbered in forced indignation, shoulders already stooping, downcast eyes fighting back tears as we all stood around his open briefcase containing a ridiculous collection of children's books and stuff and his tiffin of a banana and 2 slices of sugar sprinkled bread.
In the evening it all came out. Frustrated at not getting a job he had joined some social organisation that goes to slums and teaches children how to read write and stuff like that. They pay conveyance (state transport) and a princely sum of 20 bucks a day for lunch. We all had a great time that day, ribbing him for his worthless life, the other successful dadas explaining to him that he should have gone to them, they would have arranged something for him, why even the peon in their office gets 750 bucks a month!
Keshtoda took all this quite well. He just sat there quietly, sometimes giving a rueful smile when someone said something particularly funny (like Ajitda telling him to start helping our uncles with their housework and chores and then all families in the para will pool in with some contribution for him), sometimes clenching his hands when Romada declared that these NGO-s basically supply young women and children to the Arab world (and Romada would know, his uncle was settled in Canada for the last 28 years), but generally disappointing all us neither by breaking down or trying to fight for and defend himself.
Anyway, from the next day onwards Keshtoda started going to 'work' with a jhola slung on his shoulders. Initial ribbing died down soon enough as our interest moved on to other topics and targets. We all moved on in life, in turn got briefcases of our own. Some fell, some soared. The briefcase no longer generated respect. Kids were moving around with mobile phones and laptops. Some carried only combs to work. Some sat at home and earned trading shares on the phone. But all of them had one thing in common. Everyone moved like an automation. Nobody smiled, nobody stopped to talk to people they crossed in the streets. Nobody came to the club room anymore. Nobody knew whether their next door neighbor was alive or dead. Nobody had anyone to talk to when they felt lost and hopeless and needed someone to talk about their memories or their fears or their hopes.
Except Keshtoda. He looked as serene as ever. He looked fulfilled, satisfied and totally at peace with himself. Someone was saying that he was working as an advisor to Unesco. Someone was saying that he might go to the US soon to deliver a paper. But one thing I knew. The briefcase I had lent him when I started using a laptop looked like it had finally found its way back home.