Monday, December 28, 2009

My First Invention: The F-Cutter

Welcome back!

I always wanted to invent something. The idea was to give something back to life. Something weird... but still useful...

I do have something now. Let me assure you this is the first of my 'n' number of inventions I have planned to detonate. I have the blueprint ready. I will now explain my first invention, the 'F-Cutter'.

Take a look at the image. This is the F-Cutter... a mini stadium/chamber kind of a structure... call it what you like. The F-Cutter is a fat-cutting mechanism. This is how it works:

A person (fatso in the image) enters the F-Cutter. Next moment, the killer spikes start moving toward the fatso.

The fatso, in order to protect himself/herself from the spikes, has to start running. The path, as seen here, is circular. This means that the fatso HAS TO keep running untill the spikes stop. Now, one must note that these are real deadly spikes... so you can't possibly fool around with them. The only option is to run.

Everyday, a person could use the F-Cutter for jogging/running... by simply entering the time duration (along with the desired speed for the spikes) in the Digital Data Feeder... all, at the risk of life of course...

This invention is ONLY for those who CAN exercise but DONT, just out of laze.

There are some other items in the image that I should tell you about. Just in case a person is killed... there are blood drainage facilities at all sections of the chamber. Moreover, body disposal facilities are also available (for people of all religion).

Last, I have some free space... this will be used for advertising purposes once I get some sponsors. I hope my invention (or its variant) gets translated to reality so that people can benefit from it.

(Note: Being crazy is cool... being fat is not!)

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Spot the Assholes

Hey! Long time.

Look, we all agree there are assholes on our roads. They are roaming around freely... messing around with rules, our minds, and everything else...

I thought I'd do this post to spot some assholes.

In order to do this, I will take use of my hand-drawn images on paint. My observations:

Type 1 (the other-way): If it's a single road shared by both directions, these assholes prevail. When they find their lane is not moving, they take it to the other lane (meant for the opposite trafic). Now, these assholes don't realize that they block the opposite traffic... which further blocks the traffic in their original lane... which eventually blocks the whole fucking road. The main culprits in this category are the assholes who initiate the movement to the other lane... only to be followed by other like-minded assholes. Here's a pictorial representation of what I mean. Spot the assholes - They are in red.

Type 2 (the contradiction in requirement and reality): If you were to turn left at the next turn, which lane would you be driving in? Left-most? Even center at times? But someone care to tell me what the fuck would you be doing in the right-most lane in the same situation. All you'd do is halt all the traffic that needs to go right/straight—look at others as if they have sinned by coming in your way—and go through them to your destined turn. Spot the asshole - He is in blue.

Type 3 (the stop-everything warriors): You do not care more for anything other than that slight dent or scratch  given to you by a fellow commuter. Yes, you have to stop the car right there, in the middle of the traffic, and catch hold of the guy you could beat up for that dent. What do you end up doing? You block the whole fucking lane... and if it's a narrow road, you block the whole of it. Come on. Someone out there could be in real hurry... yeah, do you even care? In green.

Type 4 (the UNscrupulous): Okay, the signal has turned red. It does not make any difference to you, as usual. However, for once,you decide to be the follower this time. Be the man. Be the principled guy. What do you do, of course you stop. But where? Meters ahead of the zebra line. Just look at yourself, you have almost cross the road... why bothering to stop now? Just go on man. Spot the assholes - in this weird color... magenta or something.

Type 5 (the protruders): Well, they think they're doing the biggest favor to you by letting you pass. These guys are mainly found on turns... waiting to join into the main traffic. What do they do? They try to get their vehicles into the action inch by inch. Slowly, you realize they are so much on the road that you ought to stop and let them be a part of the warfare. Spot the assholes - red.

Type 6 (the slow motion): Ah! These guys promote road rage the most. They have to be at their slowest in the fastest lane. They often successfully manage to keep the rest of the traffic at pace with them. Usually, old uncle aunties are discovered in such vehicles... and at times you do apologize to yourself for abusing unknowingly... but then there are others too who do this. These assholes often end up getting killer stares by people who manage to scrape through. I say this - at least give way... or drive on the left or some place else... Yellow please.

Type 7 (the double-slow motion): Oh I hate this one. Another category of road-rage promoters. Imagine two guys in front of you... covering the whole passage... and driving slow... and on top of it - at EXACT same speed. Usually, in the given situation, you dont know which of the two drivers to curse. Both are equal assholes. Pink.

.... Lastly, let me tell you about the biggest category of assholes... and these are us. Coz either we tolerate other assholes or become like them. That's it. We don't do anything to correct the situation.

If all of us stick to what's right and not follow other assholes... the other assholes will soon start following us.

Monday, November 2, 2009

The Bang Data (BD) & GIJ


You see this man here? Anything you notice about him? Anything weird?

Well... His name is Choo, and this story is about him. Choo is from UK. You see the number on his forehead? 25? What is that?

This number, 25, is the number of times Choo has had sex after BD came into his life. He purchased the Bang Data (BD) software and was one of the first licensed users of the same.

About the BD Software - Invented by Japs, the BD is a software that counts the number of times a person has sex and displays that count on the person's forehead. With each session, 1 is added to the number and the forehead count is increased. How do you use it? Though I don't know the exact details... but you got to run the software on the system... then, wear some special headphones and stuff like that. That's not really important at the moment.

Back to Choo - Things seemed okay in the beginning... Choo's very private life was being made public... and Choo was enjoying it.

The sad times started when Choo realized he had been stupidly quick in disposing the software packet... which ironically contained the code to the uninstaller. Unfortunately, there wasn't another way the software could be uninstalled.

Sticking with a bang counter for the rest of the life? 'No way', thought Choo.

Six months had passed and Choo had become a laughing stock. Every news channel criticized the Japs citing Choo's situation in life. He had become famous but with a little 'in' prefixed to it. Moreover, Choo had become so dumb in the eyes of the public that his count never increased from 25. A stagnant personal life... viewable in public!

Anyways, Choo was not going to give up.

He first went to Japan hoping to find help. All that Japs could offer was another software to reset the count to zero. That did not help because he basically wanted to get rid of that counter... it didn't make sense to replace a number with another one. Additionally, a zero could make him even more despicable. Had he uninstalled the second software, the counter would revert to the original '25'.

Next, he went to the USA. The Americans experimented with him by making him do 'it' the other way round... hoping the count to reverse and disappear after zero—but in vain. Apparently, this thing was only a forward counter. What a software.

Third, he went to Germany. They offered a plastic surgery... but, it was later realized the count was coming from the skull and not the skin. They could not possibly replace the skull. So, the surgery was canceled.

Fourth, he went to Russia. They made a cap for him that would keep his forehead covered at all times. 'That does not really solve the problem', thought Choo.

He later went to China, but they could only manage a mask that exactly looked like Choo's face minus the number. Choo didn't like the thought of wearing a mask of himself. How stupid is that!
He went to a few other countries... only to realize those countries did not even know about BD. In fact, a lot of them thought this guy was crazy to have written a number on his forehead.

Tired... helpless... hopeless... there seemed no light at the end of the tunnel. Choo had already spent so much time (1 year) and so much money (10 lakh pounds) that it wasn't funny. Cursing the Japs, Choo decided to spend the rest of his life in stealth mode. He packed off and went to India.

It was Choo's first day in Delhi. He wanted to buy stuff for the newly acquired home. He was suggested the Palika Bazaar by his neighbors, who later made fun of him behind his back. Even their opportunistic dog didnt forget to bark at this stranger.

Anyways, at Palika Bazaar, in the first shop, having met the first salesman, Choo decided to start his home shopping. He started his act of surveying.

Most of the stuff he saw was extremely cheap for the utility promised. Five minutes later, in the computer section, Choo saw a duplicate CD. You know what it read? "The Great BD of Japan - Uninstaller"... for rupees 20 only!

That's when he learnt the powers of the Great Indian Jugaad a.k.a GIJ!

The above post was published by TechGoss on their Website. Link:

Friday, October 9, 2009

Unlimited Dosti

How many stories have you heard on friendship? Lots?

The one that I am narrating today has never been heard before... it's never been told before... it might have been witnessed by the people of Sheecha village. But, they did not disclose it to anyone except me.

This is the story of two friends—Haggu and Guggu (original names - Haggarjeet and Gughneetham).

They watched Sholay 39 times... together! Isn't that enough to speak of their friendship?
The Usual Scene:

... yehhhh dostiiiii, hum nahiiiii chhhodenge....

chhhhoddengeee... hummmm magarrrr....

teraaa.... laaaaaaaa.... lalalalaaaaaa..... lalalalalalala....

As seen here, Haggu is driving and Guggu is singing. As a part of their daily routine, Haggu joins Guggu in the lalalalala bit of the song.

They both wear similar clothes and always predecide the color combination over the phone.
One Day:

Guggu's hands were on Haggu's waist. They were riding... singing... enjoying ...all usual stuff!

Haggu: Guggu, had you not been there, this life would have been boring.

Guggu (smiles and sheds tears simultaneously): Haggu.... ummmmm... ummmmmm... (sob) (sob)... same to you Haggu (Guggu hugs him tightER).

After a lengthy discussion on 'what-ifs' and 'what-nots', the two decided to travel around the Sheecha village.

On one of the turns, the bike lost balance and the two friends had a major fall. Bhadhaaaaaaaam. While Haggu hurt himself on the knees, Guggu hit his body against a wall next to the sidewalk. The bike was damaged too.

Haggu got himself up; he was desperate to check on Guggu.

The site was horrific. Guggu was lying in a pool of blood. He seemed extremely critical... and even maybe a 'gonner'. His moans could be heard in the 20 meter radius.

Haggu: Guggu, my friend, are you ok?

Guggu: Aaaah... f...f...ff....ffreand... Hag g g g gooo... aaaah...

Haggu: O no... nahiiiiii... yeh kya ho gaya Guggu? Hey bhagwaan... Gugguuu, mai abhi ambulance ko bula kar aata hoon.

Guggu: Nahi... mere dost... iss gao mei ambulance nahi aati... aur vaise bhi mera waqt aa gaya hai. Tuu mujh chhod ke mat jaa... mujhe kahi hospital vospital nahi jana... mujhe bas apni lap mei leta de...

[Haggu did not worry about the blood stains and did as Guggu asked.]

Haggu: Mujhe chhhod ke mat jaa Guggu. Mai kya karunga iss gaon mei?

Guggu: Hag hag haggu... guu... mai khush hoon tere saamne marte hue. Khush rehna mere dost.

[Haggu is crying so bad that he's hardly able to utter a word.]

[Meanwhile, some villagers have circled these guys.]

A Villager: Arey... eee kaaah hua... chalo chalo inko hospitalva le chalte hai...

Haggu: Nahi... Koi haath nahi lagayega mere dost ko...

Guggu: Thanks mere dost. Ab mai mar sakta hoon.

Both of them have been staring at each other. No one is uttering a word. The time passes by... as both of them wait for Guggu to die. The villagers have circled... some waiting for the tragedy... some thinking of taking them to the hospital... and some, just for the fun of it.

Ten minutes have passed... both friends are still staring at each other. Haggu manages to smile... and Guggu manages to return it. Some of the villagers are starting to get impatient. One of them offers to carry Guggu to the village hospital but Haggu stares him away.

Fifteen minutes have passed... and Haggu is starting to get a little annoyed... sitting like that. His knees are paining. He still holds Guggu closer. Guggu is half asleep... but breathing. A couple of villagers started to hold Guggu' body but Haggu went mad. They had to step back.

Twenty minutes have passed... Haggu is in pain. Villagers keep expressing their desire to help... only to be shooed away by Haggu.

Twenty-five minutes have passed... Guggu is half awake.. Haggu is staring... he wants to throw Guggu away... but friendship prevails... The looks on his face suggest that he wants to say, "Ab mar naaa... Marta kyon nahi hai?"

Thirty minutes have passed... Guggu is still alive... Haggu is even more frustrated... Most of the villagers have gotten bored of this non-activity and left. Some of them have preferred to stay till the end.

Forty minutes have passed... Guggu is wide awake now... He's realized he's not dying. There are some injuries... but nothing life-threatening as such. Not knowing what to do... and how to confront Haggu who must be so sad in the heart... and even the villagers... Guggu gets up and starts walking toward home—while Haggu and the villagers stare.

Two minutes later, the villagers make a huge laughing stock of Haggu.

Embarassed to the core, Haggu gets up and walks for home. He does not know what to do. To be happy? To be sad? To be embarassed?
Both of them... don't know how to react. They don't know how to confront each other... or even the villagers....

Still, they think of each other all the time.

Sunday, October 4, 2009

On Duty

I drive a Hyundai Verna. There is one particular tyre on my car that frustrates me the most. Reason—it keeps puncturing. The tyre has even maintained an average... 1 puncture per 2 months. Things were cool in September; however, it happened again a couple of days ago.

This time, I took it to a 'new' repair shop. This shop had been boycotted by me a year ago for another shop that was nearer to home. So, I reached the shop with a disgust on my face, disappointment in my heart, and a puncture in the same bloody tyre. I gave the tyre for repair and started surveying the scene around me.

Hey, what's that? I saw this structure; it was never there a year ago.

It looked like a public loo, but it was too small in size for that. Plus, there was no drainage system that I could see.

Anyway, I decided to ask one of the locals about this mini monument before I could take a look myself. This guy told me the structure was kind of a post for a policeman. It was built to accommodate a gunman on duty.

"Very interesting", I thought.

Although I had seen a lot of such posts in movies and at high-security places, I didn't know what they looked like from inside.

I started walking toward it. After all, there was no guard on duty... and it had to be the right moment to carry out some inspection.

What all could be inside?

-A chair?
-Some cement bags?
-Some place to keep guns... and even bullets?
-Water bottles?
-A small fan?
-An ash tray?

I must confess the post looked dirty from outside. The paan spits from paan spitters had not spared the post... just like the rest of the city.

Ok! So... I reached...
When I peeped inside, I could not believe how precise I had been in my guesswork.

I returned to the punctured tyre. That tyre, for that moment, seemed less irritating.

Sunday, September 13, 2009

Button Ka Jeevan

Hi. My name is button. I have been with humans since the time they felt like covering their filthy bodies with clothes. I have gone through a lot. I have taken so much that it's not even funny anymore.

That's because I have been molested at each possible instance. I am psychologically harassed. I now describe my feelings:

a. My pain is overlooked - Have you seen fatsos wearing shirts that they are not supposed to fit in? I am talking about the spectacle where their body parts form convex impressions on the shirts they wear. What does one usually comment on seeing them - "Iski toh shirt phat jayegi". What the fuck? And I mean it... What about me? Did you realize that I was at more pain than the damn shirt? It was because of my tenacity that fatso was still able to wear something. And all I expected was for someone to say - "Iske button tootne wale hai". But... you guys are thankless; trust me.

b. I am made to feel less important - Do you realize how trivial I am? Laajo saw Bamman's shirt and commented - "Arrey.. Bamman.. tumhari shirt se toh button match hi nahi karte" What shit! Did someone ever say - "Tumhare buttons se toh shirt match hi nahi karti." I ask why? Dont I need to feel important?

c. I am a bad adjective - How do you recognize a tapori in Bollywood? Simple - "Tapori apni shirt ke button khol ke ghoomte hai". Is that fair? Why the hell am I being used to describe them? I am just doing my job.

d. I am mistaken for identity - So many people use my name to identify so many different things. I want to make it really clear right now. A SWITCH (and not me) is used for turning on the fan. A KEY (and not me) is pressed to receive a call. Just don't keep calling all the things you press 'button'.

e. I am illtreated by horny people - Give horny people a room with no observers. What do they do next? They don't bother to unbutton the shirts... they 'disbutton' the shirts. They just rip each other's clothes... dropping me on the floor.

f. I am often used while women disrespect their husbands - Channo to her hubby - "Gavaar! Apni shirt ke button toh lagana aata nahi naukri kya karega tuu?" What the hell man? If that hubby is a dumbass... why does Channo have to take my name while rebuking him?

g. They make fun of my name - My name is button. Simply - BUTTON. Lalu ji, I make this really clear; my name is not buttonwa... as in "buttonwa toh kholiye Dabri ji". Bloody gavaar. Did I call you Bhalu? Did I call your wife Baavdi? Why mutilate my name?

h. I am used in courtrooms to describe extramarital scenes - Advocate Goggi to the judge - "Judge saab mai aapse poochta hoon. Mulzim Tatiya agar apni padosan ke saath aadhi raat ko dekha gaya... aur uske button khulle paaye gaye... Toh iske kitne matlab nikalte hai?" As if it leads to just one thing. Can't it be possible that Tatiya was showing his tattoo to the padosan? Why make the whole issue extramarital? Moreover, why use my name in this adultery?

i. I am replaceable - You replace me when I dont fit the scheme of things with your shirt. Did you ever replace a shirt to fit me? Fuck off!

j. I am cheap - You need me... you go to the masterji in the colony. Then, if Masterji charges you ten rupees... you say "Masterji... mazaak mat karo. Ek button ke dus rupaiyye?" Ah! It hurts! Kya mai mazaak hoon?

k. I have been made dirty - You humans wash your hands after doing your filthy work in the loo. But there is something you do before washing hands and after doing the filthy work. What's that? Obviously, you button your pants. You realized something? Despite the hygiene you maintained, I always got touched by your dirty hands!

What kind of life is this? Don't screw me. Please only button me.
PS: I think I am in a 'buttony' mood today. My other blog has got a similar story. Do visit:
The above post won the first prize in the 'Best Blog Post (Category - Creative/Funny)' contest hosted by Achyut Kelang on his blog.

Find the details... and winners of other categories here:

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Horny Porny

Huhhu, aged 22, is an always-horny kind of boy. It's the age factor I guess. He locks himself up in the room day and night just to watch porn on the Internet. It's completely gotten into his head... he simply loves it!

Life could have been wonderful for Huhhu had his dad not been a computer literate. Dad, seeing the frequency of Huhhu's lock ups, was always suspicious of some unholy activity. It was all at that level until he decided to check Huhhu's browsing history. The history check revealed that Huhhu was a damn sex maniac. This boy, every morning exactly at 8 AM, would visit Every afternoon at exactly 3, it would be And every night at 11, it would be

Huhhu's dad was saddened at the 'results' of the check. Just when he was about to shut the computer down, dad saw a folder 'Project Work' on the desktop just centimeters away from the Recycle Bin. Dad did not get good vibes off this folder—that's because Huhhu had never done any kind of project work ever. On opening the folder, dad found a number of downloaded files—all porn. Dad was sad. He'd talk about this with Huhhu's mommy.

The discussion about son's pornographic interests saddened both dad and mum. They decided Huhhu was the type of boy they could discuss this with. They could get him on the right track. The discussion time was fixed for next day.

Huhhu, being spoken to about his ill deeds, became uncomfortable. He, at first, said, all the stuff belonged to his friend Jhaam... but parents wouldn't buy it. Huhhu had to finally succumb and say sorry. He promised he'd not do it again.

(3 weeks later)

Huhhu's dad was happy because last 3 weeks had not seen Huhhu's room locked up at any time. Still, he decided to do another history check. He thought the issue was serious and things could not be taken lightly. Do you know what came out in this round of history check? Guess... Well, all the porn was there! The surfing time had changed to late nights... very late. Moreover, the Project Folder still existed.

Another discussion between the parents ended in mum shedding a tear or two. However, don't forget that they were strong, practical kind of parents. They wouldn't let their son go that way. So, they made a plan. It was tough to be executed... a lot of emotional drama... but they wanted to do it.

They shot a movie of themseleves... you know, indulging! The plan was to put that movie in Huhhu's Project Work. The idea was that if Huhhu sees his parents like that, he would definitely understand that porn is all shit... and people he loves watching, are someone's family too. As planned, a mum-dad movie was made... and put in Huhhu's collection.

(2 weeks later)

The door bell rang. It was the milkman. God knew why he was smiling so much that day.

Anyways, dad thought it was time. He decided to check the effectiveness of the plan they'd executed. He was really confident things would have worked out their way. With a lot of anxiety, dad opened the surfing history... and... o shit... Huhhu was still the same! That was a heartbreaker. He and his wife had given up so much... but in vain. With a lot of sadness, dad clicked the Web Site Huhhu had been visiting.

The first video, titled 'My mum dad', uploaded 1 week ago by Huhhu, had fetched 38 comments!
PS: That dumbass... why couldn't he bloody delete the history?
PPS: Our kids are getting into porn big time... let's stop!

Sunday, August 30, 2009

Appu Ghar (gaye tum kidhar?)

Appu Ghar! Ah! That name brings some smiles! It'll always will. Appu Ghar was such a cool part of our childhood (mostly Delhiites). It always remained an exciting prospect... always!

It's sad that Appu Ghar had to be closed down.

Anyways. I was missing Appu Ghar today... so I decided to publish a poem that I wrote more than 11 years ago (in class 8). It's about my erstwhile favorite ride at Appu Ghar, The Appu Columbus.
I bought a ticket for rupees ten,
For the ride I enjoyed the most,
It was the ride of Appu Columbus,
And if I tell the truth, you’ll say I boast,

After waiting for some time, when my chance came,
The ticket checker checked my ticket, and asked my name,
I said Kshitij and jumped on to the seat,
Then I was asked to belt my feet,

When the Columbus came into motion,
I became happy, with lots of emotion,
All the people were happy, they loved the swing,
And from their faces, it looked like they wanted to sing,

When the swing went down on its way,
I thought I was on a ship, travelling in a bay,
And when the swing went up in the sky,
I thought my heart was escaping, saying bye bye,

And when the swing came to rest,
I said to myself, that ride was the best,
I bought another ticket for rupees ten,
And decided to ride the Columbus again.

Kshitij – 1998
PS: Now I'm wondering why did that ticket checker ask my name. Any thoughts?

Thursday, August 27, 2009

Annoying Meeee... So Easilyyyy

Hey. This time, I am going to talk about some things that annoy me. There are these things that I really do not understand. Some observations on my fellow Indians:

  • Showing so much love for the movie Sholay - O hell! Go to Orkut and import the fav movies data. Sholay will figure in every 3rd Indian's profile. I mean... what the $%&&$? See, the movie was nice... but did it really deserve this much? I know some Sholay fans are going to throw stones at me. However, take it this way - I had to create a blog, posts some 12 articles in order to get an audience... and finally... when I had some readers... I wanted to say, Sholay isn't that big a deal. There are so many better movies around. Go find them. Get rid of this vox populi.

  • Sounding 'asleep' on phone when someone wakes you up - Tring tring, heeeelllollloowwwww! You recognise that? That's a person who's doing his best to sound asleep. We do it all the time. Somone calls up early in the morning, and we drag eeeeeach and eeevvvveeerrrryyyy word to the core. Moreover, the deplorable tone we support it with... is disgusting. It's all fake. We could easily sound close-to-normal even a second after being awoken. We just don't make the effort.

  • Making the person on other end listen to your conversations with people around you - I can't tell you how much I hate it. You call a friend and start a conversation. Suddenly, this friend needs to talk to a person around him/her. So, basically, your friend needs to talk to someone about something that you shouldn't know, right? But, what does your friend do? He/she does best to let you know of everything that's going on. And how, by not moving the receiver away from his/her mouth... and it's like he/she is still talking to us. I ask why? Why should I hear that stuff? I don't want it in my life.

  • Watching 'Saas bhi kabhi bahu thi episode', where Mihir died + Uphaar Border Show - Now, how is it possible that everybody watched that episode? You ask anyone and he/she watched it. What crap. This crap has an equivalence to another crap - People claim they were in the Uphaar Cinema watching Border just before the tragedy occurred. Some even say their show was next. How is it possible that everybody had some sort of connection with it? Really! Those who don't claim tickets... will say, Yaar, hum vahi jaane ka soch rahe the. Achcha hua PVR chale gaye. God is great. And you are a great loser!

  • Cutting cake on birthday - O come on! I know it is nice to do so... but why make it indispensable? Why can't a birthday (especially adults) be marked complete without the act of stabbing a birthday cake? I know you guys must be thinking what a lone life loser I am... but that's that! I like the idea of cakes... but they should not be undispensable. Although, I admit, cakes do serve a good purpose—can't think of a gift? Go to the bakery!

  • Asking about the honeymoon destination - Do you want to accompany them? You want to be IN the action? Why the hell you keep asking where the couple's going for the honeymoon? Will you not attend the marriage if it turns out to be a sad choice of place? Is that the only thing you want to know? Are you crazy?

  • Wanting to learn to play guitar - Of the sum total learners, 90% learn just to show off. They don't want to make music—they just want to go to Barrista and play. A party will also do. Just learn two or three Hindi/English songs and you're there! What's the big deal in guitar?

  • Showing a hatred for emotional movies (males only) - Come on! Everyone of us watches nice senti movies. We even cry. What's so non manly about admitting it? Why hate Sharukh so much (he's my fav)? Be a man! Admit it! Noone will doubt your manliness if you're heard of talking about these movies.

That was my take. There must be more... but I penned some of the ones that came to my immediate mind.

Friday, August 21, 2009

Happy to You

I have this crazy observation. It's related to the time people are wished on their birthdays. As per my observation - "The point of time when a person receives his/her first set of birthday wishes keeps changing. Moreover, this 'time' is proportionate to the age of this person."

Now, let me try to explain. I am 100% sure I will make 0% sense to you, but I want to try. PS: This is for an Indian male only.

I am taking example of this guy Agyaan who was born on 12th November. Here are my observations on his life:


  • Agyaan's 10th birthday - His first wishes (actually semi-wishes) arrive on 9th November (three days before the birthday) itself. His mom dad tell him, "Beta ji, aapka toh birthday aa raha hai. Kya gift chahiye hamare laal ko?"


  • Agyaan's 15th birthday - His first wishes arrive on 11th November at 10 PM. Mom says, "Kal toh birthday hai janab ka... arrey nahi... abhi bas do ghanto mei hi hai."


  • Agyaan's 20th birthday - His first wishes arrive on 11th November at 11:58 PM. His friend Jigya calls him on the phone. She says, "Yo. I wanted to be the first one to wish... so I called before anyone else could."


  • Agyaan's 25th birthday - His first wishes arrive on 12th November at 12:30 AM. His friend Geeta calls him on his phone. She says, "Hey, I thought everyone would be calling you at 12. So, I thought I'd call a little later."


  • Agyaan's 30th birthday - His first wishes arrive on 12th November at 8 AM. His friend Beena calls him up on his phone. Beena and all other Agyaan's friends think it's not the age anymore to call at 12 AM on birthdays.


  • Agyaan's 40th birthday - His first wishes arrive on 12th November at 7 PM. His wife Sujata completely forgot about her hubby's birthday. She says, "Happy birthday ji. I am sorry I forgot. Let's go out for dinner."


  • Agyaan's 50th birthday - His first wishes arrive on 13th November 2:00 PM. His wife Sujata calls him on his office phone. She says, "Aji.. I am sorry. Kal toh aapka birthday tha. Aapne bataya kyo nahi. Abhi maine newspaper mei date dekhi toh yaad aaya."


  • Agyaan's 60th birthday - His first wishes arrive on 29th November at 11:00 AM. His wife Sujata wishes him. She says. "Abhi mahine ka akhbaar ka bill aaya toh yaad aaya iss mahine toh aapka birthday tha. He he he, aap bhi bhool gaye the na?"


  • Agyaan's 70 birthday - No wishes.


So, as I noticed, the time for wishes keeps changing. And... it has some relation with the age. Now, after I have made no sense at all, I request you to forgive and forget. I will come up with my humor story to make up for this. lol.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Ambulance Turbulence

Hi, I am calling from 245, Punchmeal Park, near the Round gol chakkar. This is emergency; my brother has a lot of pain in the chest. We suspect it's a heart attack. Please come over quickly. (Hangs up)

Mr. Gilgit had a mild heart attack! Strong or mild, a heart attack is a heart attack. The ambulance has reached in time and Mr. Gilgit is being rushed. I suspect he'll be okay. But who cares what I suspect. Alright, the status check tells me the hospital is about 12 kms away, and they might encounter some traffic.

At the same time, there are atleast 2 drivers on the MG road who are sick of this traffic... this life... they just want to end this daily piece of torture... but, as a matter of fact... that's what they think everyday, in traffic. Don't worry. They're harmless, just irritated souls.

Soon, there is a wooooooooooooooo woooooooooooooo wooooooooooo woooooooooo whooooooooooo on the MG road. The traffic makes way for the ambulance to pass. Most of the drivers giving way have this happy feeling—they think they did their share for the humanity.

At the same time, those 2 pissed-off drivers I told you about see an opportunity. They want to follow the ambulance like it's shadow. You know, people will give way to the ambulance and these gentlemen, too, will be able to scramble through easily. Isn't it normal? Well, that's quite normal on Delhi roads. Where there's an ambulance, there are multiple people behind it immeditely.

Coming back to the situation. These 2 drivers chase the ambulance. A split second saves them from crashing into each other. But, who wants to give up? Who wants his ego hurt? So, they are both trying to throw each other off the ambulance's trail. Stiff competition I must say. Nasty stares and nastier abuses. This is huge. They act as if they both have a relative inside that woooooooo van. And the one who manages to stay closer to the ambulance; his relative survives.

Let's now add to the situation. I see a 3rd car attempting to do what the 1st and the 2nd are doing. Let's say the 3rd driver cherishes the spot behind the ambulance equally.

Status check, 3 kms to the hospital and the ambulance is being dearly chased by 3 cars... rest of the traffic giving way to the ambulance... and feeling good about it.

Continuing with the tussle saga, apparently, one of the first two drivers has claimed the real estate behind the van, while the other is still trying hard, while the third (new entrant) is struggling to match pace. Meanwhile, Mr Gilgit is feeling better, unaware of the things his state caused... rather, causing.

Status check:
Car 1 - Ha ha ha. Take that you piece of shit. Now, you must follow your daddy, me.
Car 2 - Fuck... I really need to beat this a$$ h*** now.
Car 3 - I need to be quick. I wish these guys moved away.
Ambulance Driver (singing with the radio) - Bidi jalai le....
Mr. Gilgit - O God, will I survive? Forgive me for my sins, if any.
Car 4, 5 and 6 (random cars nearby) - O god, please bless the patient. look at these f%$^ chasing the ambulance.

Creeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeechhhhhhh... booooooooooom... thuddddddddddddddd... bhadhaaaaaam.... dhadhaaaaam...

Cars 1 and 2 have collided. Car 3 has crashed into car 2. Car 4 has gone into car 3. Car 5 has just managed to save itself from the mess. Car 7 (another random car) is being driven by a psycho who's extremely happy at the sight of a live accident. Cars 8 onwards are keen on watching the follow-up action.

Isn't it obvious what the follow-up action is? My guess is car 1 and 2 will beat the hell out of each other. Car 4 will kick car 3's ass. Something similar happens. Total mess.

At the hospital... Mr Gilgit has just been admitted. The doctor is looking for Gilgit's family members to fill the admission form.

Noone's around.

They were last seen sitting in car 3, trying to get as close to the ambulance as possible... but unfortunately crashed into another car... and got engulfed in a chain reaction of accidents.


Saturday, August 15, 2009

Muhavre Time

On special request from someone special, I am putting another quiz. This one is much easier. I have drawn some literal representations of muhavres (Hindi proverbs). Try and identify them; have fun.

Please do not look at the comments column before you do your round of guessing; someone may already have answered by the time you visit, and you may lose interest.










That's it! I hope you enjoyed.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Type KLPD and Send to 55*420

There is a contest where you need to SMS the answer to some random 5-digit number to win prizes. Well, you send the SMS... expect a prize... but all you get is a price... anything between Rs. 3 and 5 per SMS. This money you spent is profit for the contest holder. In the time left before you die, you will not get to know who won. Actually, no one won... except for the contest holder.

Meet Babban Ltd; they sell insurance policies. Their second line of profit-making ventures is to hold SMS contests. Let's look at their strategy for earning through SMSes. Here is what they do in July (PS: Radio is where all this %$@^# happens).
They start with a normal gk question.
5th July, 3PM, Radio: Hello listeners. Babban Ltd. presents before you the Mast Mast Jhakaas contest. You need to tell us the capital of Australia. The options are:

- Trinidad and Tobago (A)
- Canberra (B)
- Spain (C)
Type A/B/C and send you response to 50505. The winner will get a free air tickets from Babban Ltd.
They did not even bother to describe the place the aeroplane was going to take the winners to. Anyways, so it happens that Babban gets an ok kind of response. Despite a number of correct responses, no one wins. No one was even supposed to.

Now, they want more SMS money. So, 5 days later, they put in a simpler question for the next contest.
10th July, 4PM, Radio: Hi listeners. The air tickets of previous winners are well on their way. It's time for a new quiz... time for more people to get lucky. Babban Ltd. ka general knowledge of bollywood contest haazir hai. You need to tell us the word that has been replaced in the song by a beep. Here is your song - Chak de, BEEEEEEEP de Indiaaaa.... The options are:

- Chak (A)
- Chaak (B)
- Chaalaak (C)

Type A/B/C and send you response to 50505. Lucky participant will get a free head massage from Babban Ltd.

Ok. They get better response this time. However, still no winners. Who cares.

But, as expected, they want more SMS money now. So, they put in another absurd question. This time the number of responses expected is much higher. This is because in this question, other options may not even make sense.
18th July, 6PM, Radio: Hello, hi to all the listeners. Hmmm, I am sure the winners of last contest are enjoying the head massage. All those who did not win, here is your chance. Babban Ltd, the great insurers, present to you the Angoolimaal Kaun contest. All you have to do is answer this simple question. Who is the relative of Rajesh Khanna:

- Dimple Kapadia (A)
- Simple Kapadia (B)
- Pimple Kapadia (C)
- Triple Kapadia (D)
Type A/B/C/D and send you response to 50505. Lucky participant will get free movie tickets from the one and only, Babban Ltd.
Ridiculous! As expected, people respond in good numbers. Babban makes good money of this deal too. I hate it; really.

Next, the month is drawing close, and as expected, Babban wants more money. Did you realize that in this entire post Babban keeps wanting more money? Their targets have to be met, you see. So, they are ready with the next and last contest for the month.
25th July, 8PM, Radio: Hey all you lovely listeners. It's time you not only listen to radio but watch TV as well. Here is a contest that will help you win a free TV. The contest is sponsored by Babban Ltd, the only insurance company to have offices in all the 9 continents. All you need to do is answer this question. Which is the only insurance company in the world to have offices in all the 9 continents?

- Chaggan Ltd.
- Baingan Ltd.
- Babban Ltd.
Type A/B/C and send you response to 50505. Lucky participant will get a TV from Babban Ltd, the only insurance company to have offices in all the 9 continents.
This has really become disgusting now. People keep SMSing, and their money keeps flowing in. Babban has met its targets; we must be really crazy for that to happen.

Friday, August 7, 2009

Reporting Earthly Matters

Meet Mr. Dadam.

Mr. Dadam's address is - 11th Paradise Bungalow, Angels and Laymens, Opposite Godly Park, Heaven. Absolutely! Mr Dadam resides in heaven.
You know, every year, god sends some people (fully grown-ups) to earth to perform specific tasks. Dadda, as I would call him here on, was one of the privileged people to have been sent by god to earth this year. Objective of his mission, do good to earthly creatures. A lottery system placed Dadda on a mission to New Delhi, India, Earth.
He spent three months on the mission, came back, and submitted a report to his boss. I highlight below, some part of Dadda's report.
a. I was driving near Lajpat Nagar. There were few pedestrians who wanted to cross the road. I stopped the car for them to cross. No one did. They looked at me in disbelief. All they said, "Maarega yeh humko zaroor. Hum chalenge aur yeh gaadi chala dega".
b. I was standing in a long queue for buying movie tickets. There was a girl behind me. I thought of being nice and asked her to take my place. She got really angry. She stood her ground and said, "So that you stare at my ass? Huh? You pervert".
c. I made friends with a guy named Pajju. It was his birthday three days later. I called him and wished happy birthday. He wasn't expecting my call. He said, "Yaar, treat shaam ko le liyo please".
d. A motorcyclist met with an accident. He fell down. I went to pick him up. He looked at me walking towards him. He first checked where his wallet was, and then said, "Aah. Lag gayi".
e. A car had broken down. I went to help the couple who owned it. The guy looked at me, asked his wife to go back in, and said, "No thanks. Don't need your help".
f. I bought McDonalds' burgers for slum kids. The kids looked really excited about their to-be feast. Suddenly, a guy, an equal slum dweller, came and shouted at them. He asked them not to eat. He said, "Pata nahi kya milaya hoga isne".
g. I saw kids begging at the red light. I thought education might change their fate. I taught them English. The police caught me. The charges that were pressed, "Bachcho ko English sikha ke bheekh mangwata hai".
h. I got out of the jail, somehow. An hour after my exit, I saw a little girl fall down on the road. I picked her, held her by the hand, but then someone shouted. Her parents, they screamed, "Hamari bachchi ko bachao kidnapper se". The police caught me and put me back in. Swoooooosh... I transmitted back to heaven immediately.
God, my boss, how can I help these people? How can I be nice? They have forgotten about being good. Nothing happened as I expected... except for one thing. There was only one thing that went right. Just one!
It was a moment when I was feeding some cows. An hour later, a news was flashed on the channels Baaj Tak and Dandiya TV. They said, "Bhagwaan ne bhookhi cows ka pate bharne ke liye apne saathi ko bheja". That was the only time when people interpreted my deed correctly. Sob sob.

Friday, July 31, 2009

The Proverbial Quiz

Hello namaste. It is finally time! Time to check how proverbial you are. I throw a quiz at you today. It is a picture quiz. There are 12 pics in this post. These aren't lovely pics as such... but just a hand-drawn assemblage. Each of them is the literal representation of a proverb (English). You need to find out which proverb.
The difficulty level (which obviously gets increased because of my naivety in MSPAINT) for each pic ranges from 1-5... 5 is is the toughest and 1 is the easiest. Let's start.
1. Level 1

2. Level 1

3. Level 2

4. Level 4

5. Level 5 (actually the toughest in here)

6. Level 4

7. Level 5

8. Level 1

9. Level 2

10. Level 4

11. Level 2

12. Level 2


So... How did you do? Please forgive the poor quality pics.

Sunday, July 26, 2009

Screwed Mathematically

I hadn't done anything that qualified me for a 20 kg hike in two years. I did not know what happened. People met me and instead of asking me how I was... they asked how I had become what I was. Life sucked. I had to find answers. How did I reach 100 kgs from 80 kgs?

Somewhere in my heart, I knew I had been wronged. Some germs of obesity had missed their target. But, why me?

Then, it struck me that I could utilize that one wish I had been given by god. PS: I had been nice enough to few people so god granted me a raincheck on one wish.

I said, 'God, this is my wish - I want to know how in the hell did I gain so much?'

The god said (in a godly voice of course), 'I can prove it mathematically and pictorially'. I knew there was nothing that could be proved. I still said, 'do it'.

This is exactly what god showed me:





over and over and over and over and over again... is always equal to:

God said, 'that was simple; wasn't it?'. He also gave me this pic to put on my blog:

Now I'm thinking, what a fool have I made of myself! Instead of asking god to explain me all this, why couldn't I simply ask for an automatic reduction of those 20 kgs?
Damn! I concentrated only on cribbing... and forgot the situation could easily be resolved.

Monday, July 20, 2009

It Won't Take Us Anywhere

Hello angry people.

Tonight, I am going to talk about something we confront everyday - the growing aggression in us. Yes, I am talking about all of us who don't care to discuss or sort out... but prefer to get physical when our cars kiss/hit each other. Yes, I am talking about us who tell each other about their moms and sisters all the time. I am talking about the growing madness in all of us.
If you can read this, you will have a good day.
This is the year 2041. I have grown really old. Here I am... in a commercial complex... buying some groceries. I see people fighting over parking. I see the parking board and it reminds me of something... an old story.
If you can read this, you will have a good day.
You know, there used to be a house right where this complex is. The board that was on its gate in the year 2000:

... and in 2009:

... in 2015:

... in 2020: 2025: 2030:

Well. Unfortunately, it happened that someone did park in front of the gate in 2030. Poor guy; he and his family got killed by the house owner.
If you can read this, you will have a good day.
However, the police caught the house owner and put him behind bars. The owner was sentenced to death. His family died of depression. The house was sealed and confiscated by the Government.
If you can read this, you will have a good day.
Later, in 2040, last year, the house was demolished and this commercial complex was built. The no-parking spot suddenly became the parking spot for the complex. There is a new board:

Damn, people are still fighting... for that parking!
If you can read this, you will have a good day.
Well... I really want to warn all of us... this aggression will not take us anywhere. Let's have some patience... Let's be nice! We have already lost enough. How I wish all this stopped in and around 2009.

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All the pictures and contents on Dusht-ka-Drishtikone are protected by Copyright Law and should not be reproduced, published or displayed without the explicit prior written permission from the sole author of the blog, Kshitij Khurana.