Dusht-ka-Drishtikone

Total Atyachaar

2011-12-20T12:17:00.001+05:30

It was a weekend... and somewhere into the mid of the second month after marriage.

Dheet, the husband, was enjoying his videogame while his wife Rondi was hanging clothes outside to dry in the Sun. And:

The very next day:

And the next day:

Rondi seems to have had enough. She is hellbent now. And... the next day:

Dheet is tired of seeing her cry. So, he decides he'll get up and do it the moment she asks him. He won't make her say it so many times. And so, the next day:

He's sick of this thing now. So, he just does it the next day without her needing to remind him. And then:

God! This has become tough for Dheet now. No matter what he does, Rondi keeps crying. He decides he'll give another go. He will do it properly this time. And so:

WTF!!! ^$%$&*@#&*@

Dheet is pissed off now. He is doing everything... and still, he's been made to feel guilty. The next day, he decides to do the damn thing again... and not talk about it.

He does as planned. Rondi sees this... and:

...and no, am not speaking from personal experience

...biwi maaregi

Expressions Depressions

2011-12-08T13:02:00.001+05:30

I have a problem.

I watch a lot of movies in theaters. But that is of coursenot the problem.

The problem is - Idon’t know what face to put while coming out of the movie hall. I have tabulatedmy situations below:

Situation	I Found the Movie	Thoughts that Were Going on in My Head	Expression on My Face
1	Good	I liked the movie. But what if others didn’t? If I smile and move around, will people think I am below average intelligence? …and so much below that I ended up liking something like that? Shit – I don’t have to make a fool of myself being happy about watching something others may not have liked.	Stupid + Giggling (Balancing my happiness about watching the movie with the intention to not look like a fool to have liked the movie no one else did.)
2	Average	The movie was ok-ok. Just about a one-time watch maybe. But… If I show happiness, half of the people will find me crazy… …and If I show sadness, the other half may develop perceptions. I don’t want either. I could try keeping a normal face.	Stupid + Trying to put a poker face (Pretending to be normal after watching a normal movie… when in reality I feel just as normal I am trying to pretend to be. So, the pretending part makes me look stupid now.)
3	Crap	The movie was shit. I am sure all of us realize that we have been fooled. Now where do we go from here? And how do we face each other? What reaction to give? What expression to carry on face? Smiling like ‘oops-I-too-got-fooled-watching-this-piece-of-shit-movie’ would amount to absolute stupidity. Better to keep the head lowered and walk off. Do not make eye contact with anyone—not even your partner.	Absolutely Stupid (Scared of making eye contact with people… just trying to find the way out of the hall with head lowered and eyes on the ground.)
4	Crap… BUT Liked by Others (and I know that by the laughter and the overall atmosphere)	Why were they laughing throughout the movie? Why do they seem so happy? Did I miss something? Why am I not on the same page? Not again… I am out of place!	Stupid (Because I am trying to look cool and gel into the crowd… when I feel like a fool to have watched something like that.)

So, no matter how good, bad, or average a movie I watch, Icome out of the hall looking like a stupid.

And that’s my problem.

Sallu ke Ullu

2011-10-20T15:39:00.000+05:30

Salman Khan,

Hello brother. I wanted to tell you something, and I hopeyou and your bodyguards are ready for it.

You must be really happy these days. You have given hitsafter hits and broken records after records.

Let’s see – Wanted, Dabangg, Ready, Bodyguard… and coming upare projects such as Ek Tha Tiger. Of course, we know how this ek tiger would perform; don’t we?

Ok, time for a question. Did you watch bodyguard? Once, atleast? Were you able to sit through? Did you feel like renaming it to torture?

Personally, I think I was better off watching the itchguardadvertisement 300 times than Bodyguard once.

I think you know what I am going to talk about here. Inhearts of hearts, don’t you know you’ve been selling crap to us for a couple ofyears now? And to top it all, you’ve been taking all the laurels in yourstate-of-the-art manliness.

However, in reality, any person with worthy intelligence canmake out what you are doing.

Here’s the deal – you will portray yourself as alarger-than-life person, crack some stupid jokes, sing some good songs, walklike a maniac, and kick some ass… Oh yeah, then you will realize you forgot toadd a story to the whole damn thing. And so what will you do then? You will puton your being human t-shirt and go to some TV serials… followed by randominterviews elsewhere… and release the movie! And of course, it will sell!

Why?

After all, you have been able to gather a huge fan base thatcalls you bhai. Bullshit, bhai!

To serve you the starters – your movies, especially Bodyguard,are crappy! Let me rephrase it for you – in reality, you’ve been giving us shits after shits… And your shits are devoidof any sense and logic.

Do you know how expensive are movie tickets these days? Anouting with one’s spouse to a PVR or DT Cinema is about 1.5 to 2k easily. Ofcourse, that is plus the food and drinks that are consumed. In fact, it isworth noting that on days I watched your recent movies, food was the best thingthat happened to me.

Now! Don’t you thinkyou ought to give us some good movies in return?

I know you are basking in glory for now; but, trust me, itwon’t be long before people realize you’re just toying with them. Yes, you areactually taking your fans for granted.

Now, you might want to say that you are making masalamovies… and public loves masala movies. But Salluji, you cannot sell crap inthe name of masala movies. Can you?

If, in Bodyguard, you were not the hero… but, let’s say itwere Saifu bhai. Do you know how badly the film would have done? Do you think aSaifu-starrer Ready or even Bodyguard would have sold? Ghanta.

Anyways, let’s not talk about Saifu Bhai for now. I’m sure he’salready pissed with you and Aamir. You guys took his girl and made yourbig sellers – Bodyguard and 3 Idiots... whereas, he doesn’t get anyopportunities… and the limited ones he gets are only through the presence of the quota system.

Everyone knows you are the difference. And why are you thedifference? Because of the fans. So, don’t you think you should give somethingmore meaningful to these fans?

Your movie Dabangg won the best film award in Filmfare lastyear. I agree it was entertaining... but not the best that year. But again,that’s a personal opinion. Oh! On that note, this whole post is a personalopinion. Anyways.

Bodyguard was imbecile. Trust me. Don’t be happy it has donegood business. In reality, your fans took money from their pockets and gave itto you. Keep it.

If you like being human, be human to you fans as well.

Yours,

The Spot Next to Me

2011-09-18T11:40:00.001+05:30

Aerobics… a girl thing! Oh really?

In my gym… rather in the gym I go to, a small section hadbeen reserved for ladies and their aerobic exercises. I know I am calling it a section,but it was hardly one. It was just an area in the middle of the gym,uninhabited by machines and all.

There were about 6-7 women, ladies, girls, whatever you callthem… and a guy… who did aerobics there. Actually, let’s just call them girlsbecause the guy used to be me. ‘Me and girls’ sounds cooler.

Okay, so, coming back to myself… while some men were seenpumping their bodies with weights and overweights… pushing ups and pushingdowns… and while others were on treadmill and cross trainers… I’d be seen doingmy jigs with the girls on aerobics.

While they flexed their biceps and other muscles I didn’tknow existed, I’d be dancing around doing salsa-like moves partnering myobesity.

Needless to say, Indian men that they were, most of themlooked at me in ‘what’s-wrong-with-this-fatso’ kinds of stares. They looked atme between their reps… between their rests… between their walks… and even runs.And at other times as well.

And on some days, people even misconstrued me for the aerobic ball.

Or maybe they didn’t…? And I was just thinking too much?Well, for the moment, let’s just take my side and assume that they did. Whatever!As if it reroutes the story I’m telling you.

At this end, I just tried to make it look like it wascompletely normal—for a fat guy to jump around like that… matching steps withbeats of dhikchoo dhikchoo numbers.

And to be honest, I believed it was. I still do.

Okay, now, why am I telling you about this aerobic stuff?

Actually, my intention is not to tell you about what went onoutside the aerobic group… but inside. I want to talk about something that happenedbetween me and the girls. Do I hear you saying ‘wow’ already?

Okay, so, since the first class, my spot had been fixed. Thetrainer had told me where to stand ‘always’ for all classes. Probably,considering the risk this truck would pose, while moving around, to the carsnearby, he was just being prudent to keep it at the corner of the road. Mostprobably. Or maybe he just wanted me to have more space for my free manlymovements. Needless to say, this spot of mine happened to be at the corner ofour so-called aerobics section.

Sounds cool till now.

Now, I used to reach gym at 7 and do my warm-ups… while thegirls came in around 7:20-25, just 5-10 minutes before the start of our class.

Which is where my problem started.

There was a strange thing happening every day. It had evenstarted killing the curious cat in me. Consider my query now – ‘why the hellwere the girls hell bent on getting the single possible spot next to me?’

No, seriously. Whoever entered first would just go and takethat spot on a first-come-first-serve basis. Two of them even fought over it ona particular day. At this end, I used to have a new person next to me almostevery other day.

Why god, why?

Not that it helped me with anything… our exercises did notinvolve physical contact with partners. But it made me curious. I even comparedthe whole thing with the solar system one day. The big sun being static andplanets moving around it… but it didn’t actually compare. That’s because no onemoving around me. I was just thePluto right at the corner, not even proportionately sized to other planets,come to think of it.

So, I was curious. Were they interested in standing next tome? Oops, I have to control this sheepish smile I got at the moment.

Oh, mind you—I was not in talking terms with the girls… sothere was no way of confirming what exactly it was about.

Anyways, I thought and thought and thought a lot… and cameup with the following:

1. I smelled good… this was very likely because Nike hadobviously researched and invested a lot in making the deodorants I used.

2. Two, probably, someone from the group liked me. Duh! I mean the male in me said that tome. They used to smile at me. If that justifies my thought process. Nevertheless,it was the typical male saying typical stuff, I know.

I discarded the first option and decided to play along with thesecond. After all, at least, I was male enough to think like males…compensating for the time I was not male enough to work out like males. Andthis male kept saying cute little things in my ears. I smiled.

And so, days passed… turned into a couple of weeks. And wecontinued exercising with the same old routine—me and the girls, me static andthem ‘desperate’ to take the spot next to me.

I had even started wondering who were the girls that likedme… rather who I wanted them to be… Wow, look at me, talking only in pluralsfor the moment.

I knew this trivia could not go on for long. And I had to dosomething. How could it continue to happen the way it did? A girl rushing forthat spot... upsetting those who couldn’t.

So… one day, I finally decided to ask! Who knows I mighthave been governed by the possibility of finding leads on the girls who likedme.

It took some courage, but I did ask one of them.

And all that the girl I asked… said… ‘coz of the fan’. Ihadn’t noticed that the spot next to me was directly under the fan.

Dear Indian Cricket Team

2011-09-11T13:00:00.000+05:30

I know that you have caused terrible pain in chests of people like myself--over the last two months. You have lost, lost, and lost. Probably, tosses are all you may have won.

And your so-called fan base might have resorted to depletion... I don't know. But I know. They'll come back. Indians forget easily and way too quickly.

The 4-0 drubbing in tests against England was as unbelievable as... probably... England beating someone 4-0 in tests.

Day on day, we sunk into what would be a tar-filled drum with no bottom. And match after match, we watched you guys with rekindled hopes. But then you lost again, and we slept again.

We lost the rank 1 in tests... lost our 'test champions' status... lost our goddamn Indian izzat. Haha. But then came the t20 and ODI stage, and we woke up again.

The damn t20! Aaah. That would be a t20-volt jolt to our drenched hearts. Another loss. And we slept again.

Well, still, we woke up and geared up for the ODIs--wurrld champions we were, you see.

So, having spent 10 more days in agony, we now see you trailing 2-0 with 2 matches to go. Ahem! That obviously means you can't win the series. Ahem! And win the series bullshit; you don't seem to be winning a match for now.

Okay. So, why am I writing all this worldly news here?

Ah! Well, because I love you. And I want to tell you that I support you whole-heartedly. And, as I tell others, I support you unconditionally.

If 4 years ago I were told that my team would give me so much happiness over the course of next 4 years... all those world cup wins... test series wins... ODI wins... and blah blah wins... BUT only to be followed by a damn beating in England... a once-in-a-lifetime jhaapad.... err, I would have taken it!

And so I take it.

Marreceptooning

2011-06-08T14:57:00.001+05:30

Of course I was busy:

Marrying...

Receptioning...

& Honeymooning...

...and am back to the blog now!

Best Day

2011-04-03T01:29:00.000+05:30

...and that's how I looked on the best day of my life

...2nd April'11, when we won the world cup!

Change

2011-03-05T22:48:00.021+05:30

SHAMpoo!

There was this new company called Marle-G. It manufactured shampoos, and the first brand it came up with was named Heads & Balders.

Psst: It was meant for their Indian customers.

Well, okay!

And like other brands, Marle-G had been successfully able to identify the advertising strategy that worked best with us (stupid Indians).

The strategy? What strategy?

Okay, think no more. How about taking a look at what Marle-G actually did?

Their 1st Advertisement: They began by introducing the product and claiming how it was the best thing around. They even declared the product to be bringing about a revolution in hair care.

'For all types of hair... the solution is here', they said.

Surprisingly, or rather not surprisingly, at the end of the advertisement, somewhere, somehow, it said, 'From Marle-G... serving you since 1930'.

1930? What? WTF, actually?

Really! How come they have been serving us since 1930 when they have just recently begun their operations... at least in India?

If you ask me - it's just another company trying to sell its shitty product to us. There are hundreds of other companies doing just that... to us since long... and claiming to be in existence since longer.

Anyways, the story moved on.

Their 2nd Advertisement: This probably got aired 6 months after the first one.

Herein, Marle-G claimed 'a new and improved Heads & Balders... exclusively for the Indian hair'.

And yet again, it was the best shampoo around; they said again.

Okay! Does this mean the product was not really the 'best' the first time around? As they claimed in the last advertisement? How come there was an improvement on something that was already best?

Their 3rd Advertisement: A couple of months later, Marle-G came up with the next advertisement for Heads & Balders. This one looked more aggressive in nature.

They said, 'The New Heads & Balders... with xyriporithomenum...'

Aha! Xyriporithomenum!

Now what the fuck is that? An average Indian wouldn't know what it is. Why engage us in this jargon?

Their 4th Advertisement: This was their last advertisement for the year.

O hell! They said that the new Heads & Balders was now coming with the OQ protection that other shampoos didn't.

Man! They even showed other shampoo bottles in a blurred-but-easily-recognizable way on TV.

God! I definitely need this OQ protection. But before that could you tell me what it does for my hair? Bullshit, I think!

Anyways. A year has passed since the launch of this product. They have done well and captured a market share. Mission accomplished.

They bloody kept claiming to have changed the shampoo the whole year... but we couldn't change the channel once.

सूअर के बच्चे

2011-02-15T21:19:00.000+05:30

सूअर के बच्चे करने लगे सड़क पार,

अचानक तभी आ गई एक कार,

सूअर ने दूर से देखा, पाया खुद को लाचार,

पर वो कार न रुकी... थी तेज़ उसकी रफ़्तार,

दो बच्चे कुचले गए, हुए मृत करार,

सूअर के तो दिल में जैसे पड़ी एक दरार,

शायद जीवन से अब उसने मान ली थी हार,

नज़र नहीं आ रहे थे कोई ख़ुशी के आसार,

लगा उसको ऐसा सदमा, वो गया एक BAR,

गटागट चार बीयर पी उसने, और फिर मारी डकार,

और नशे मे आत्महत्या का वो करने लगा विचार,

जीवन को कहना चाहता था टाटा, और मौत को नमस्कार,

पर अगले ही दिन सूअर को मिला यह समाचार,

कि ड्राईवर को पुलिस ने कर लिया गिरफ्तार,

सूअर हुआ बेहद खुश, किया उसने श्रृंगार,

और पास के एक होटल गया, होटल चमत्कार,

आर्डर किया उसने... एक प्लेट पोर्क, रोटी, और अचार,

वेटर बोला, सूअर सर, हमको दीजिये minutes चार,

दो छोटे सूअर फ्रेश है, हुए थे एक गाड़ी के शिकार,

कढ़ाई में डालके हो जाएंगे आपके लिए तैयार|

सांड का कांड

2011-02-03T00:33:00.002+05:30

Heyo. This is my first ever Hindi Poem. So please ignore spelling mistakes.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

वज़न हो गया था हमारा 90 किलो, बदन था बड़ा मोटा,
जो भी कपड़ा अलमारी में दिखा, वोह निकला हमको छोटा,

यहाँ बचपन जा रहा था, तो वहां जवानी छा रही थी,
पर कॉलेज में सैक्सी लड़किया हमको नहीं बुला रही थी,

खैर... कौन देखेगा ऐसे गैंडे को, यह मैने सोचा,

जिम करूँ या जौग्गिंग, दिमाग में हुआ लोचा,

चला मै फ़िर जिम की तरफ़, बनाके इरादा,

सिक्स पैक एब्स चाहिए अब, न कम न ज़्यादा,

जिम तो मै जाने लगा, पर हो गयी थी एक दुविधा,

बाहर एक रेड़ी वाले ने, की थी गन्ने के रस की सुविधा,

फ़िर क्या था...

हम रोज़ जिम गए, और रोज़ पीया जूस,

गलती कर रहे थे बड़ी, हुआ न महसूस,

महीने के बाद जब वज़न चेक किया, मन में लेके आस,

यह क्या? वज़न तो हमारा हो चला था सौ किलो के पास,

हाय राम... मै लुट गया... मै हो गया बर्बाद,

सारे मोटे गैंडे अब मुझे कहने लगेंगे उस्ताद,

सोचा दुनिया त्याग देंगे, ख़त्म होगी टेंशन,

धरती पे होगा बोझ कम, और बचेगा थोड़ा राशन,

रस्सी बांधी पंखे पे, अलविदा कह रहे थे हम,

जैसे ही गला बांधके लटके, आवाज़ आई...

धड़म!

The Parking Slip Fraud

2011-01-28T20:05:00.002+05:30

Hey!

You in Delhi? You drive? You park your car? You pay for the parking?

Well, the chances are, you may have, at some point, paid more than what you needed to. There is this new fraud happening in Delhi; and it's being done by the parking wallas.

Now let me explain.

Let's first look at the slip that we are handed (below). This is the most common format of parking slips in Delhi... only the name of the place changes and the rest usually remains same.

Now... if one were to give a cursory look at the slip to find out the 'price' for car, he/she would probably identify it to be Rs 30. Remember, it's a cursory look I am talking about.

And why 30? Of course, because we read from left to right and the number probably comes after the item it represents.

But but but! That's not the case!

This 30 here is for tempo (if you notice, there is no number next to tempo and 30 belongs to tempo). Moreover, that 10 is for car (as opposed to what it looks like at the moment being next to sct or scooter).

And what are these parking wallas doing? Well, they say that 30 is the rate for parking a car for full day... and 20 is the charge for any thing less than full day. So, eventually, they end up charging us 20 bucks... for something that is only 10.

That's plain cheating!

And you know why I say that? Because every damn slip is cut in a manner that shows 10 next to Sct and 30 next to Car. Trust me, it's a neat cut they have been making.

In reality, just before that Sct, there is a 5, which represents the charge for parking a scooter/bike. However, these guys take it off the slip while cutting.

And trust me again when I say that this is happening at a LOT of places in Delhi. It's like the parking mafia in operation.

I caught the thing in first go and asked the particular attendant to show me the whole slip... he smiled, and said 'aap dus hi de do' (you give me 10 only).

I am sure many of us did not/do not realize this thing's been happening and are actually paying more to these frauds.

Read your slip carefully the next time, please!

Ess A Mess

2011-01-17T18:32:00.001+05:30

Mind blowing!

Happy new year bodies. Good to see you. This is my first post for 2011 and what better to do than crib. Yeah yeah, c.r.i.b, it is!

I think it will be my phone today. Let me take you through a couple of uncanny features it offers. For starters, it's a Sony phone.

And in the SMS section, there are two particular features:

Next Word Suggestion - It means what it should mean. While typing an SMS, the phone suggests 'next' word(s) and it is on my discretion whether or not I want to take it (the suggestion of course).
Full Word Suggestion - Here, while typing an SMS, if I start writing a word, the phone tries to complete it. I think it searches its memory and tries to guess what I may have written. I hear that my previously written SMSes contribute a lot to its memory base.

Sound good? Please don't say stuff like 'ah, it's a common feature', because I don't know other phones. And mind you, the above features don't concern the T9 thing. That's a separate thing all together.

Now then, as cool or comfortable the features sound, they often end up irritating me.

To elaborate... If I write any sentence and end it with a period (full stop), the phone automatically and probably conveniently adds a com after the full stop.

Which basically means my messages look like this:
a. Hey, am leaving for office.com
b. Please reach on time.com
c. blah blah blah.com

Got my point? Many a times, I am in a hurry and click the send button only to realize the presence of that .com in the message that I just sent. Irritating!

Let me think of more.... oh, yeah!

The name of my manager is Gurpreet... and, the moment I type Gur, this bloody phone changes it to... Gurkha.

wtf.

I must have changed this gurkha into gurpreet so many times but the phone does not remember. Dumb ass, I say.

Then, there are occasions when this thing throws up such weird weird sentences as suggestions. Gosh, they dont even mean a shit. Example - If I am typing am going... the phone changes it to am going hm.woh

Ya ya, that is it! What would that mean? Ghanta!

You know something... I can't possibly list all that this phone does. But am sure you get the point.

I know I have been harsh with the lovely features... and so I take this opportunity to tell you about the best thing about the two features - you can turn em off.

The Mystery

2010-12-04T23:51:00.027+05:30

A recent piece of news had made it to the headlines. It was about a court case that was to be contested very soon. The defendant (a shop owner) was being accused of physical, psychological, and sexual molestation on one of his staff members. Surprisingly, he claimed that he had never hired a staff member in his life.

...and that's why they called it the 'mystery' case!

Let's look at what happened in the courtroom!

'Order, order', said the judge,
He was fair, without any grudge,

'Next case please', he loudly announced,
'Staff vs. Shop Owner', someone pronounced,

There were murmurs; people paid attention,
The case was big; one could feel the tension,

It was a mysterious case, everybody knew,
And everybody was interested, not just few,

Walked in the lawyers, black coats they wore,
They charged big money, pockets they tore,

Anyways, the proceedings began, people were quiet,

While the judge prayed for a smooth sail, and not a riot,

One of the lawyers rose and walked toward the middle,
He claimed this case was simple, and not a riddle,

He said, 'my lord, my client is aggrieved',
'She worked at the shop, your help we need',

'She has been tortured, a torture that's rare',

'By the shop owner, the man who sits there',

'She cries day and night, hungry she stays',

'For the shop owner's deeds, she quietly pays',
0

'What did he do to your client', asked the judge slowly,
'My lord, he's a terrible guy, his class is lowly'.

'Please be specific, don't go round and round',
'I want to know what he did, with your next sound',

'He's a monster, I promise I will easily prove',
'And once I finish, a death sentence you'll approve',

'Please begin now', the judge pointed a finger,
'And I dare you now... do not try to linger',

The lawyer pointed at the defendant and said, 'this man',
'Has done to my client... what only a pervert can',

'He stripped her every night, not once did he fail',

'O lord, just get him executed, don't send him to jail',

'He'd see her naked, and smile once or twice',

'O lord, you tell me, do you find that nice?'

'He'd dress her later, after some time',

'And mind you, that's not his only crime',

'He'd make her work nonstop, without giving a break',

'Lord, please to be hanging him till death, for god's sake',

'And to top everything, he did not give her any money',

'These are some serious issues, nothing so funny',
0

The people in the court felt bad for the girl,
Abuses at the shop owner, they started to hurl,

'You fucking asshole... you piece of shit',
'You should be thrown into a dark pit',

'Quiet, quiet', the judge ordered everyone,
This courtroom had become anything but fun,

'Call the shop owner, we will listen from him',
'If he's done all this, his survival will be grim',

The shop owner rose, and smiled ear to ear,
He knew pretty well; his time to speak was near,

He said, 'my lord, this is complete crap',

'Someone has worked hard to put this trap',

'This case is nonsense, this hearing is absurd',

'And you are listening to them, you must be a nerd',

The judge got angry... and said, 'careful mister',

'The crimes we are talking about are pretty sinister',

The owner started laughing loudly, 'haha hehe',

'O lord, I swear, nothing wrong's been done by me',

'I have never ever hired anyone, not since an eternity',

'And if you don't believe me, ask my shopkeeper fraternity',

At that point, all the local shopkeepers rose and said...

We stand by him, his words we confirm,

He is innocent, he deserves no term,

He's been a one-man army, and we are quite sure,

The allegations against him don't seem to be pure,

The judge got annoyed; he said, 'what the hell?'
'Something's really fishy here, I can easily smell',

'I think I know what's happening', said the defendant,
The judge looked in his direction, a listening ear he lent,

'But before you say anything, I warn you not to give me any mystery',
'Better tell me the facts and facts alone, else you'll be a part of history',

'Yes my lord, I have indeed done all this',
'But there's something crucial you shouldn't miss',

'There you go, so you confess to your crime',
'To gallows you go now, to serve your time',

'Wait a minute my lord, there's more that you should know',

'Something so crucial that it should reduce my term to zero',

'You are a sinner, for the things you have done',

'Now what could possibly save you, you demon?'

..
..

The guy looked at the judge... and said.....

'My lord, whatever I have done, how can it be a sin?'

'When it was being done to my shop's only mannequin'

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This post had been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 17; the seventeenth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers. Although I was expecting the post to do very well, it fetched me just 4 votes ;p

Celebrations

2010-11-07T23:53:00.010+05:30

In the words of a ragpicker...

Hahaha... I can't stop giggling. Maybe it's the aftereffect of our Diwali celebrations. Maybe.

But, to tell you, we did have a blast. It was just the usually amazing Diwali that we have every year. You rich people tend to think we ragpickers have no life and live in poor conditions. Oh please! Give me a break. We are quite well off when it comes to happiness and celebrations—much more than you guys actually.

Today, I tell you all this because some of you have this guilt that you enjoy life while we starve. 'Awwww', so sweet of you to think like that. But, that's not quite! Atleast not for us ragpickers.

Okay, let me ask you a question. How do you guys celebrate your Diwali? I am guessing some of you dance in parties, some of you eat good food, most of you burst crackers... and the ones who claim to be sensible just decorate homes... right?

And what do we ragpickers do? What if I were to tell you we do all of the above? Haha. Well, you might be doing one, two, or maximum three of the things I listed... but, we do all. I repeat, 'all'.

There are four of us in my group - Gharru, Tuktaki, Bangola, and Surri (that's me). We have been friends since long. We even work together... and when it comes to celebrating Diwali, no one beats us.

This time around, our celebrations spanned, like every year, across two days. The first was the actual Diwali day... and the second was the day that followed. Here's a brief on what all we did:

We Danced: You guys are obnoxious and loud. It is not at all difficult to find a house where there's a party going on.

You know what all happens inside. But I guess you never know what happens outside. Do you? Well, we are making merry outside, dancing to the latest music popping out of your show-offable music systems. This is what happened this time as well. Munni badnaam hui... darling tere liye...

Surprisingly, our tastes in music match big time. Dancing to second-ear music is real fun I say. Keep it up people; we love it.

We Ate: Again! Not at all difficult to find a house where a party is going on. And of course, if there's a party, there's going to be wastage.

You guys waste food like anything. Lol. But, we love that thing of yours. Psst... because we don't let it remain wasted actually. We pick up the food from your bins and consume as a part of our Diwali rituals. It's a real feast I swear. There are just so many options you provide us with.

We really enjoyed the food this time as well. Promise us something... next time onward, you will not feel guilty whenever you waste food. Always remember that it's not really getting wasted. It's getting consumed.

To continue our celebrations, once the food was done with, we rushed back to our homes concluding the first of the two wonderful days of our celebrations. Sounds fun till here? Am sure, am sure.

We Burst Crackers: Then came the next morning! I'd have to admit we slept less between the two days.

The very next morning, we set off on our tramping activities, picking from roads the crackers you left over. We even caught hold of crackers that did not burst and you never managed to pick again.

To tell you a truth - we so love this cracker-collection part. The anticipation of finding good bombs is just too exciting.

We then went back to our secret place and burst the crackers, dancing to the joys of the great festival simultaneously. And yes, you guys are amazing but I bet if you even knew that.

I think I should point out something really important here. One may tend to think this writeup is like a satire on the activities of rich people. Blah blah blah and how the poor are suffering. Bullshit... you must be kidding me. In reality, this article is to show our gratitude for what you rich people have been doing for us ragpickers. We love you.

We Even Earned: This was our last of the activities of the Diwali celebrations. Once our cracker bursting was done, we set off in the evening, all dressed in our torn uniforms.

It is Diwali time and you guys are supposedly more generous. Maybe you guys think that helping us would bring you good luck. Maybe it gives you some karmic massage. Lol. Keep bringing it on, I say. We got a lot of money from you and your likes during these days.

All we had to do was to appear like we were lying idle while the world was celebrating... and you gave us good money. As they say, 'dil khol ke'. Am sorry, not sure if I should have confessed that.

Nevertheless, that concluded our lovely Diwali celebrations. You agree?

Ah! There is one little thing though. One thing we want to say at this stage. Why do you guys never waste your drinks??? I mean... we never get to drink you know. There's just nothing you leave for us.

On that note... I think you guys always throw up. You should throw out... from next time ;)

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This post was published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 16; the sixteenth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write.

The post fetched 5 votes... decent enough... considering that the top 3 bloggers got 7 votes each :)

A Lesson on the Redlight Area

2010-11-01T01:26:00.001+05:30

Dear All,

Congratulations!

The Education Ministry of India has finally decided to act. I am so happy they have realized that the current education belongs to the previous century. Someone out there figured we badly needed to update our syllabus with something that is more realistic. I am so happy.

I hear that the first change they are making is to the lesson on Traffic Lights. You remember the lesson? Oh jolly well you do. It was all basic; red means STOP, yellow means LOOK, and green means GO.

Rubbish! Good that they are tuning the lesson into the current situation.

Here's a look at the new concepts that will be taught next session onward:

1. Red: This does not, anymore, mean that you HAVE TO stop. No no! Red means you can now cross the road... but a little carefully.

Why carefully? Because others will have 'green' for them and they might be following the old education system thinking they can cross freely on green. So, a little caution is what you need to exercise.

The next rule for red is that you must never be in the front-most lane during a red light. This is because only fools are found in the front-most lane on red. All the intelligent ones are supposed to tag along with the traffic that crossed in the last 'green'. Remember that there is always the space for an extra vehicle in the group that crosses the road... irrespective of what the light says.

Another thing - if you are moving on red and someone stares at you abusively, you will have all the right in the world to give it back to them; alright?

2. Yellow (Amber/Orange): Ah! This used to mean that it was going to turn into red and people must prepare to stop. Crap!

It, rightfully and thankfully, now, indicates that the light's going to turn into red and you have to raise the speed of your vehicle so that you don't fall into the category of foolish people who end up stopping on red.

So, as a rule, if you see yellow, speed up. This is the only light where you get to test the acceleration of your vehicle.

3. Green: It used to mean, 'go freely'... you must be kidding me! That was long ago; wake up dude.

The green now means that officially you are allowed to cross the road... but you have to be careful and not bang into people who are moving on their red.

Remember that most of your accidents will happen on your green. Be very very careful on your green. Green is for danger.

4. No Lights Working: Wonderful! That is a new addition. A new concept, I say. You know what it means? You little naughty wicked person... am sure you do.

It means it is free-for-all. Everybody from every direction is free to cross. It's a winner-takes-all kind of situation. Survival of the fittest... ever heard?

There is a note of caution here. This particular arrangement of lights (rather the lack of it) often leads to traffic jams. This means that you must know how to safeguard your interest... doesn't matter if you end up leaving behind the whole of your generation in 'jam' because of your actions.

5. All Lights On At the Same Time: Confused? Of course this happens all the time. It's the new system... the new century!

The rules related to this are EXACTLY the same as the previous point. However, there is one slight exception. One little tiny extra thing you need to do.

Now, while attempting to cross the road in this all-lights-working situation, you have to abuse the government. You have to abuse the government for systems it has provided. 'Bloody, it is not even capable of providing properly functioning traffic lights to the law-abiding citizens'.

You should cross the road and only focus on how poor the political system of India is... do not forget to mention their useless claims at the time of elections... and wish for a better tomorrow simultaneously. Sounds good?

6. No Traffic Pole: Well. This could be due to a lot of reasons. The most probable cause, given the century we are in, is that... it probably got stolen!

That's it for the new lesson. Hope the changes sound okay.

And as we know, nothing in life comes without exceptions. There is an exception to this lesson. If you are strong... large in number (in your vehicle), you should not really bother about the lights system. You can do as you please. Fuck the lesson!

Grrrrrrrr

2010-10-28T00:18:00.001+05:30

For those of you who've followed this blog since long, you might be aware every now and then I come up with a weird list of points that irritate me.

I have done two such posts till now, Annoying Me...Easilyyy and What the Ufffff

This particular post is the third in the series. I take this opportunity to begin my crib session. My next set of irritants:

1. We all have become smarter, and we sort of 'get' the feel as to which movie will be worth watching. We watch the trailers on TV and are usually able to decide whether it's worth or not. Now, what irritates me the most is some lone-life looser coming out of the theatre and claiming it to be a super-duper hit. I know he/she might have been paid to say that, but it's really irritating. What more, a few days later, you see this ticker around the movie that says, 'running successfully'. God. Especially when every human you know who's watched it says it's very very very crappy.... and all along you knew it was crappy... still!

2. God. This happens so so so many times. So many times I realized that the DVD case I was returning to the movie parlor just had the part 1. The part 2, at the same time, was sitting handsomely in the player at home. Very irritating! This usually happened when I finished a movie late night... and set out for the parlor next morning.

3. I ask how come... How come every random thing is dating back to centuries ago? For example - Pahalvaan Halwai, serving you since 1954. Wait? What? O hello! 1954? What are you talking about? This Halwai (sweet seller) was not in existence a year ago... and now it says this. I'd call this the 'since' factor. Bloody liars. I guess these random people/companies/products dating really back in time represent a fancy hand-picked number.

4. This is a common but trivial point. You'd say I've gone mad. But, assuming I am dialing a number for someone. Post that, I hand the phone to this someone. And if this someone, without wasting a second says 'hello', it irritates me big time. I don't know why but I expect this person to listen to what's happening and then act accordingly... after all, it may just be ringing at the other end. Why say hello straightaway?

5. Then, I dont like the fact that every person who tries to imitate Shahrukh, does the 'aeeee aeee'.. god, I dont even know how to spell it. But you what I mean, right? The point also holds for everyone attempting to imitate Sachin by saying stuff like 'haila... ayela...' whatever. Get something new, guys.

6. This is the last point guys. Enough of whining I say. I hate the way Bollywood kids cried in old movies. You know what am saying? Like - when they rolled their fists in the cavities of their eyes...back and forth... and simultaneously sounded, 'oooooooo..' blah blah blah. I get an award for the the patheticEST description. But, come on people! Gimme a break. Why would someone cry like that? I think if someone cries like that, he or she probably deserved to cry.

That's it for Part 3 of my cribs in life. Thank you reading.

Damn Phool

2010-10-24T23:01:00.001+05:30

Straight to the point!

What is the stupidest thing you have ever done? When do you think were you at your foolest best?

The question brings an incident to my mind. Something from my past. I was in class 6th or thereabouts. There was something I did on one fateful day; it still embarasses me. Just look at me - am getting embarassed while writing this... this... and even this...

So! I wanted to switch the light off before leaving the room. The moment I was going to do it, a thought struck me. Now, not more but a moment later, I wanted to do it without touching the switch. Fair enough, I say.

So, I removed my chappals and aimed at the switch from a couple of meters. I am not sure about the number of attempts it took, but it was done real quick. The switch was switched off.

You think that could be the stupidest thing I've done? Read on.

The success did not satisfy me. I switched it on again. Next, I wanted to do it without using my hands. Can you guess what followed?

How do I say it? But I'll have to now that I have started it... I sipped a mouthful of water and proceeded toward the switch. Na na, don't get scared yet.

I did what I intended to. The switch was successfully 'OFF'ed again. I had aimed the stream of water at the switch perfectly. To be honest, even today, I am not sure how and why I did not get an electric shock. Not sure of the science that works there.

But, you think that was it? Stupidest of me? Read on.

Apparently, I was still not satisfied. I wanted to do something more with that switch. Supposedly, I wanted to be more imaginative in finding ways for switching it off. And so...

My index finger motioned toward the switch to ON it again, and... within a couple of inches of the switch happened the inevitable.

^&%$%@$%^^^$($!HUGE ELECTRIC SHOCK!&%&(%$*^%)^@#(*

...to mark the stupidest I've been.

Public Ka Choo...ha

2010-10-18T15:16:00.001+05:30

Mr. Pugland used to work for an IT company in Delhi. He was originally from Pune but had been in Delhi for 4 years. He lived in a double-room apartment with nominal rent and good neighborhood.

Life had been okay for him until a... came into his life and kept coming back.

One day, after bath, Pugland opened his undergarment drawer and witnessed a horrific scene. The piece of clothing he was going to pick jumped toward him. Yes, jumped! The clothing bounced off Pug's stomach and fell on the ground. Meanwhile, having had this piece of clothing suddenly jump and strike his stomach, Pug took a couple of hasty steps backward. He simultaneously wrapping the bedsheet around his bare body.

Three seconds later, one of the corners of the undergarment moved upward and a mouse appeared. It quite looked like a tourist who'd spent a night in the tent and was lifting a side of the tent to embrace the beauty of the next morning. Duh! The mouse (chooha in Hindi) then ran out to some corner of the house.

'Phew', said Pug! He was happy that it was a mouse. A ghost in an undergarment was never going to be an educated guess.

Next, he ignored the garment that had been floored, wore an alternative, dressed up, and left for office. Little did he know his life had just taken a strange turn.

The following days were not something to speak highly of. The mouse, the stupid little bugger, kept showing up at the most unexpected of places. Shaving kit, vegetable basket, television top, dining table, washing machine... just everywhere. You name a place in the house and the mouse would surely have made a special appearance there.

Mr. Pugland kept tolerating everything... until one day!

It was a Sunday afternoon and the mouse made an appearance from behind the washbasin while Pugland was in position lacking in dignity. Such positions are usually attained in 'Indian-style bathrooms', you know. 'That's it', said Pug. 'Time for you to go choohe', he thought.

Pug went to his local market, bought a mousetrap, laid the trap, and caught the little bugger, all in a matter of 4 hours. Pug then teased the mouse by making some weird squeaky sounds and left his home with the rodent.

Having released the chooha a couple of km away from home, Pug returned. He felt victorious.

The next morning, chooha made a special appearance at the refrigerator. It had apparently returned. Pug was shocked. He knew it was the same chooha; he had noticed it way too often to be able to distinguish it from other choohas.

Pug was not going to give up. He again managed to catch chooha with the same old trick. This time Pug released the chooha 10 km away from home.

But... the chooha returned!

This releasing and returning happened on a couple of more occassions. Pug had become extremely irritated now. He wondered,
a. how come the Chooha kept returning?
b. how come the Chooha kept getting trapped in a couple of hours of putting the trap?

Anyway, he did not want to kill the chooha. But, chooha was not leaving Pug with many options, mind you.

Pug was to leave next day for Chandigarh for an official 1-day visit and little did the train staff know that one of their passengers intended to carry a mousetrap... with a mouse trapped.

Apparently, Pug had caught the mouse again and put the trap in one of his old bags. On reaching the Chandigarh station, Pug boarded an auto and threw the mouse trap on the first available opportunity. He was happy for the rest of his journey.

A day later, Pug returned home and unlocked the door to his apartment. Right next to the door... was the... chooha. It looked like the chooha was waiting to welcome Pug home.

Pug dropped his bags and looked in the direction of the kitchen knife. And...
.
.
.
Cuttttt...
.
.
.
...said the director.

He had just completed the shooting of yet another breaking news on the famous Indian news channel, ChaalBaaj Tak.

Sure enough, soon after, the breaking news flashed across the channel:

'Ganesh ji ka jaadui jaanvar, vaapas aaye IT executive ke ghar'
'Lord Ganesha's magical mouse, keeps returning to an IT executive's house'.
--

PS: I hate you all for killing the meaning of 'news'.

Sadistic Maids

2010-10-15T11:05:00.001+05:30

This is no story.

This is a real-life account of what's been happening to me over the past one year. It takes great courage for me to write about it. I never thought I'd reveal this but...

'my maids torture me'

Yes! I have said it now. I do feel a little relieved, but that, in no way, reduces the hurt I carry. My friends, it's true, I am being tortured by two of my maids on a consistent basis. I will tell you what exactly they are doing... but before that, you need to know something else too...

'they torture me through my ceiling fan'

Of course you did not understand what that meant. But you will, soon. They both are using my ceiling fan as an equipment to torture me. Let me do a profile on both of them and tell you what they are up to.

Maid Number 1 - The name's Pramila. She's a middle-aged woman who is responsible for doing jharu pocha every day. Her accent is so complicated that I have to repeat her words in my mind to make some sense of the information she intends to pass. Mostly, I'd prefer she has nothing to say to me.

Talking about the torture she inflicts - Every day, without fail... I need to pause here and put extra emphasis on without fail... To continue - she switches the fan off for jharu... and never... I need to pause again and put extra emphasis on never... switches it back on. Every single day!

-I have tried most of the ways of telling her this switching-on-again needs to be done, but she is deaf I think.

-And if she isn't deaf, the information doesn't reach her brain I think.

-And if the information reaches her brain, it fails to interpret the intended message I think.

Whatever! I feel harassed every day. I have to get up and do it myself while cursing her in my thoughts and agony. On the right is a secret pic I took of my tormenter.

Yesterday, my dad was seemingly angry at something. He was howling... errr... shouting. I reached his room to check 'wassup pitaji'? All he said was, 'iss pramila ko sau baar samjhaya hai pankha chalu kare... par kabhi nahi karti'

So you can see what mess we are in. Let's talk about maid number 2.

Maid Number 2 - He is in his twenties and named Shyamal. He cleans uninhabited areas of the house every Sunday. One of his usual chores is to clean the ceiling fans. And this is exactly how he targets me.

Picture this: I am lying on my bed, sleeping/watching tv/laptopping etc. It's all good. Suddenly this guy comes with a home ladder (don't know what else to call it) and starts cleaning the fan with a cloth... dropping all the dirt on this poor little harmless blogger on the bed. Whatever's on fan - finds me in moments.

And I look at him like a person staring at a bird who pooped on him. All clueless and helpless. Why do you do it Shyamal? Why don't you ask me to move away before firing the dirt bullets through the forces of gravity?

I have clicked this tormenter too... and just when he is at it. Check it out.

Can you feel my pain? Even while clicking the pic, there was something crap coming in my direction. A video of this scene would have accounted better for the brutality, I think.

Mind you, this particular tormenter is so fierce that he does not care even if I am eating something. I am a lowly creature, it seems.

So, did you get it?

My maids are harassing me.

Please help!

Diggers and Buggers

2010-10-02T19:34:00.001+05:30

It was just two days ago that a site in the outskirts of the Lallupanju village gained historical importance. This village is in UP, some 30 km from Noida.

So, what happened there?

Well, a couple of days ago, an excavation was carried out. The officers of the DFOS (Digging and Finding Old Structures) had some information that the site bore historical bearings on kings and kingdoms and what nots.

The excavation and digging-up continued for half a day and nothing was found... but a photograph. Now, if you are an Indian who watches tv, you must have seen this photograph all over the news channels... and we're sure you must be sick of looking at it by now.

Let's take a look at the picture first.

Notice the different aspects before we talk further.

It looks like a deserted railway station... and one that you'd base your horror stories on.

So, where is this place? What about it?

Since yesterday, all news channels have been showing the story throughout the day. It's just everywhere... and all of them are showing inconsistent views.

Let's look at what we're facing:

-Channel 'No-Laaj Tak' has been showing the photograph in the 'breaking news' section. It claims that the Lallupanju village was once a railway station. Then, there was a huge storm and everything was annihilated. 'In fact, the remains of the station could be found several kms deep inside the land', is how they conclude.

-Channel 'Andy Biwi' claims this was a house that belonged to King Davai Maan Singh. They continue, 'the king was pretty lazy to travel in cars and got a railway track made right outside his house'. They also claim the photograph is from 800 years ago, and surprisingly, even before the railways and cars and digital photography got invented.

-Channel 'Makkaar Plus' is confident this proves that primitive Indians were cleanliness freaks. The channel has been continuously making red circles around the blue dustbin and claiming how clean the station was being kept. Surprisingly, they don't have a version on the existence of the station itself... at least, yet.

-Channel 'No-Idea TV' has, like their usual stories, one of the absurdest versions around. The channel is claiming that the gods of Lallupanju village have been facing difficulties travelling around... and interestingly, they want a railway station built here. The photograph is a signal they have sent to humans.

The whole nation is beaming around the different versions, trying to add pieces together, and make some sense out of it. People are seemingly split with their loyalties to different channels and their versions.

Caught in this brouhaha, we decided to interview the minister of state Sataya-wati. She has expressed happiness on this historical event and ordered for her statues to be built on ground zero. People of the country are yet to react to that.

So... finally... we reached outside the office of the executives who were working on that 'digging up'. We wanted to understand what they think about it all.

Our conversation with the senior officer lasted... a minute.

We asked him what the photograph conveyed. He stood silent for some time. Then, he answered, 'it was only a post card... they just didn't bother to shoot the back side of it'.
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This post was published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 15, the fifteenth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers. The topic for the edition was the image that you see above.

The post did not fetch even a single vote; hahaha :)

Kahani Khaali Ghar Ghar Ki

2010-09-19T02:42:00.000+05:30

How do we respond when a good friend tells us...

"mere ghar pe koi nahi hai"

??

Well, the response to this depends on our gender and age. And here's what I observed:

@ Males, Age 20-25: Ok. So, mai apni bandi (gf) le aau? Look at them - just licking their lips. These guys can just think of opportunities to get physical with their girlfriends. Jawaani ka josh hai ji!

@ Male, Age 25-30: Cool. Peene ka scene banaye phir? For males, there comes an age when girls take a step back and alcohol takes one forward. Now, they are in search of places they can drink without hassles.

@ Male, Age 30+: Achcha? Khana kaha se kha raha hai phir? Poor guy. Now he is married... and not much into alcohol equally. He would now only be interested in petty things.

@ Male, Age 60+: Hey bhagwaan? Kab hua yeh? Toone bataya kyo nahi? Well, it's the age factor now. Old man think his friend's wife's dead. Not his fault.

That was all about males. Stupid males.

Now, talking about females, the sensible gender, they will probably say...
.
.
.
.
.
@ Female, All Ages: Why? Kaha gaye sab?

Return

2010-09-04T23:45:00.002+05:30

It's 9:30 a.m., time for the milkman's greeds,

He gets the cow, her milk is all he needs,

Then he says, it's 10 a.m. now,
So go get lost, you stupid cow,

He pushes her outside and beats her with a stick,

And sometimes a punch, and sometimes a kick,

Then he lets her go and wander in the city,

And like every day, the cow leaves in self-pity,

And then the cow keeps roaming, that's her daily routine,

The milkman takes the milk and disowns her, he's so mean,

He won't keep her daytime; he doesn't want to arrange for her lunch,

So he just sends her away, knowing she'd find something to munch,

While the cow remains clueless on the milkman's behavior,

And so she prays for someone to become her savior,

On the roads she sits, and sometimes the pavement,

While people abuse her and, sometimes, the government,

Every day, she puts her life at great risk,

While the traffic goes past, quite brisk,

She looks everywhere for something to eat,

While the milkman sells milk and buys some wheat,

In the evening, she heads home, just after being caned by the traffic cop,

And on the way, kids throw stones at her, while she wishes for them to stop,

The milkman sees her enter and abuses her twice,
While the cow wishes every day for him to be nice,

This keeps happening all the time, so I decided to ask her one day,
"Dear cow, why do you bear all this, why don't you just run away?"

She looked at me and smiled, and then I saw her laugh,
"You fool, return, I have to, for the milkman has my calf".

She returns home despite bearing all this torture... for the love of her calf! A typical mom.
---------------------------------------------E---N---D-----------------------------------------------------

This post was published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 14, the fourteenth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers. The topic for the edition was 'Return'.

Another Adult Annihilated! (55 F)

2010-09-01T20:07:00.005+05:30

Azaad and Aman altercated at aunt Annie's abode.

Afterwards, Aman absconded.

Aunt Annie arrived and asked Azaad about Aman.

Azaad answered, 'am ain’t aware'.

Aunt asked again.

Azaad answered, 'an alligator ate Aman'.

Aunt, agitated, averred, 'asshole'.

Azaad answered, 'abuse again and…'

Aunt, annoyed, aimed an axe at Azaad’s abdomen.

'Aaaaaaaaahhhh…'

----------------------------------------END---------------------------------------

That was my first 55 Fiction.
'Okay, that's nice!! But what the hell is a 55 Fiction?'
Err... simply put - it's a fiction in 55 words. I tried to make a unique one by having all words with A. The above was published by GingerChai on their Web site at: http://www.gingerchai.com/2010/07/29/another-adult-annihilated/ Thanks GC.

Aah Want a New Technology

2010-08-29T04:50:00.000+05:30

This post is my submission to HP's 'My Demand contest' on Indiblogger. The contest simply wants participants to think of a new technology... and demand the same! My demand follows...
-------------

"And the judge has sentenced the chief minister Papayawati to 20 years of rigorous imprisonment for causing 29, 384 lakhs Aah of pain to the people of Uttar Pradesh."
-
-

I want a technology that measures things that we allege to be non-measurable. Basically, I want everything to be measurable!

Pain, Love, Hate, Boredom, Anger, Corruption, and so on... can you measure them?

...wouldn't it be great if you could measure everything non-countable as well?
...and how about a unit of measurement for everything?

Confused? Let me explain. Since Papaywati caused pain; let me use 'pain' as my example.

--
Pain should be measurable from now on, physical or mental. The unit of pain, I propose, should be 'Aah' (as you see in the judge's verdict above). And we should have some basic thresholds like anything above 50 Aah is severe.

So, all I want is a technology to measure pain in Aah. Note that Aah does not take a plural form - it does not become Aahs. (And why? Ask the creator please...)

Now sample this: 'Mom, dad just fell down in the porch... and he is having a pain of 28 Aah.'

To which mom replies, 'relax son. 28 is less. Remember - it has to be 50 or more to be serious!!!'
--
And here are some other usages I could think of:

a. Office Gossip: I heard Rita had 88 Aah of pain during her labor. God! She must be brave.

b. School: Ma'm, I did not come to school yesterday because I had a stomach ache of 36 Aah... and here's the certificate.

c. Lovers: 'I could go through hundreds of Aah for you.'

d. Death: 'O.. I have been hit by a bullet... and it's really painful'...to which the listener would respond, 'yes, I can see. 91 Aah it is. O, and it's increasing'.

e. Facebook Status Message: 'Had a 36 Aah toothache today'.
.
.
.
...and so on. Make it measurable, will you.

Okay, here's a bonus example: I had 49 Aah of pain in my head after reading this post ...and you know where that comment goes, don't you?

But yes - I firmly believe... everything should be measurable. I would also propose the unit of love as 'dil'. I love my blog more than 99 dils.

Bring on the technology please.

Chao-ffic

2010-08-21T12:00:00.001+05:30

9:45 p.m., Delhi...
Voooooooooooooooooooo.... Voooooooooooooooooooo.... (ambulance)

The sight of an ambulance in the rear-view mirror discomforted Resham. 'I hope none's dying', she said to herself. Next, she moved her car to the adjacent lane giving way to the ambulance. While the ambulance passed, a quick peek inside did not reveal anything. 'Maybe it's going to pick someone... or maybe someone's actually there... god bless', were her last thoughts.

In the meanwhile, the ambulance driver was coated with perspiration. It's a hard job, mind you. He had to reach before it was late. His assistant, sitting next to him, understood the seriousness of the situation—he did not speak a word. There were another 4 kms to go.

Four kms would have been an easier job in any other city, but this is Delhi. The traffic is so heavy that every meter you travel is itself a successful outcome in life.

The driver looked at the traffic, which was as-usual congested. Next, he looked at the assistant in a what-do-we-do-now kind of manner. The assistant looked at his watch. It was 9:50. He then looked in the rear of the van. It was all lifeless there. No movement no nothing. He then looked behind the van.

The madmen they are, Dilliwaalas were fighting for the spot immeditely behind the ambulance. They knew the ambulance would pierce the traffic and move forward easily. Why miss the oppotunity then? Just get behind the thing and you progress too!

The driver cussed the traffic and blew the horn incessantly. The Vooooooooooooo continued simultaneously!

It was getting really nervy. The assistant hurled truckload of abuses at a couple of two-wheeled vehicles that the van encountered. It was getting late, he knew. I personally don't think anybody could feel as helpless as these guys. But they were professionals, is my second thought.

The driver's phone rang at 9:55. He did not bother to pick. Actually, he never got to know about the phone call because of the Voooooooooooo. By the way, I am not even sure if he'd pick had he heard.

Desperate times now! Just 1 km left and there was so much traffic. It was so bad that the vehicles in front did not even have much space to let the ambulance through. It was all clogged... jammed... and disgusting!

The ambulance then scratched a car. O shit! But, the car owner did not mind. This was his share of karma. He just hoped the patient reached on time. The driver did not look apologetic. He was on a mission and could not be late.

A number of onlookers watched the ambulance struggling. They all prayed. Some wondered what if their family member was in there... struggling with life and the traffic equally. Others just abhorred the traffic situation. Anyways.
..
..
..
..

Finally... after much Voooooooooooing, the guys turned right and stopped a 100 meters later. The time was 10:05.

But... instead of hurrying things up, they just sat there. Both of them were really sad. They stared at each other.

They knew the Dilli thekaas close at sharp 10 p.m.

---------------END!

PS: Through this post, I thank my friend Maneesh Makheeja (InfoPro). He has helped me on a number of occassions on a number of things. Thanks Maneesh. Why this post? Because I know you love beer :)

I hate you... CHARUUUUU!

2010-08-14T11:21:00.000+05:30

Charu is a fucking piece of shit,
He knows cricket not one bit,
Still he blabbers with his zero wit,
I say feed him a candle after it's lit.

I don't want to see Charu on TV,
People please go and burn his CV,
And ask him to stay with his biwi,
And then we do haha hoho hehe.

Chunnu, Pinki, Pappu, Simmi

2010-08-07T12:34:00.001+05:30

Mom: Pinku, tumhara friend Mohit aaya hai...
Pinku: Maa... Please Pankul bolo.
Mom: But uska naam toh Mohit hai na?
Pinku: Offo... mujhe Pankul bolo. Friends ke saamne Pinku mat bola karo.
---

I am going to write about nicknames in this post—the same nicknames that we run away from in public... and are indifferent to in private.

I don't know if any other country uses nicknames like we do... and as much as we do.

But I have to tell you that nicknames are wonderful!

There are just too many pluses about nicknames. I can't even guess why you are embarrassed of your nickname. Here's my take:

a. Nicknames Don't Want Your Intelligence: You don't need to be intelligent for nicknaming someone. Do you? You can just call him/her anything as you please. Even the dumbest of people nicknamed others.

And probably that's why we have nicknames that sound so stupid—for example, Dabbu. By the way, what the hell is Dabbu, if I may ask?

b. Nicknames Don't Want Your Time: Do you know, girlfriends-boyfriends, often, in their midnight calls, talk about how they would name their kids?

"Ladka hua toh Pratap... and ladki hui toh Pramila..."
"Uska naam 'L' se rakhenge... classroom mein roll number beech mein rahega..."

I am telling this only to reflect upon the time and thought that go into naming your kids. You spend so much time and thought on thinking of real names. In fact, real-naming a real kid is a real trouble... so many suggestions from people, dictionaries, FB messages, midnight calls, Google searches... etc etc.

Whereas, nicknames don't ask for your time. No, seriously, who spends time thinking about nicknames? You can nickname someone in the time you take two breaths. Seriously. If you take two deep breaths, that itself can give you an idea "Deep"... leading to Deepu! Am I talking like a wacko here?

c. Nicknames Are Short: No hassle at all. You can call the person quickly... shout at him/her quickly... type his/her name quickly... SMS quickly... write his/her name on sand quickly... write his/her name on paper and do a new kind of voodoo quickly... tell his/her name to goons for giving a supari quickly... and do many more things quickly.

Ever heard someone with a nickname like Padmanathan? Never! I'm sure Paddu is so much better.

d. Nicknames Convey Love: If you recall, a nickname is like something jo pyaar se bulaya jaata hai. Isn't that a stamp of love itself? Someone calling you by your nickname is like someone calling you lovingly, if I may translate it that way.

e. Nicknames Are Funny: How does Minni sound? And what about Haggu? Pappu paas hua kya?

There is an element of casualness and humor in nicknames. They sound friendly. They don't throw an air of seriousness. Ok, look at the following sentence:

Duggu, mai tera khoon pi jaunga... It doesn't sound too great, does it? Do you think Duggu would be the kind of person someone would say this to? Don't think the speaker is serious. Duggu ofcourse sounds like a stupid and harmless fellow.

f. Nicknames Can Be Multiple: Once you have a real name, you are likely to take it to your grave. It will stick with you on all marksheets, appointment letters, insurance plans... and wherever. Just wherever. Even on the damn shaadi ka card that I am running away from at this point of time in life.

But nicknames... you can have 100 nicknames! ... and still counting. If you have 20 close friends, you are bound to have at least 4 nicknames. Very cool, isn't it?

g. Nicknames Don't Have to Mean Anything: Well. Do I need to explain this? The real name is supposed to mean something, which is why parents are so much into this business of finding good real names.

But nicknames, oh, we don't care a shit if they don't mean a shit. Look at the title of this post and tell me if any word means anything to you.

h. Nicknames Are Easy: Remember, it's not what you would want to call someone... but, often, it's what you feel like calling someone.

There are many off-the-shelf ones lying around... just pick anything. It does not have to be really different from the world. You don't really have to put much thought into it.

And the second and very easy option is to mutilate the real name... for example, Tajas becomes Teju, Rajesh becomes Raju. So on. So easy.

i. Nicknames Are Lover Friendly: This is easily one of the most overlooked advantages of a nickname.

Suppose a girlfriend dumps her boyfriend... and the boyfriend is filmy... what do you think he'll do? Of course, he will inscribe his gf's name on his hands, legs, forehead... wherever. Of course!

Now, imagine if his gf's name is Rajyalakshmi. He will have to cut his whole body to fit the name somewhere. In such a case, he could use her nickname. A simple Rajjo will be fitting and less painful.

Don't you think so? Just look at our lover boy on the right.

-----

That brings an end to this post. I know there were some points that could be merged... but hey, chill "Readu" (nickname for readers)!

So... do you agree? The concept of nicknames is so wonderful.

Then why get embarrassed when someone calls you by your nickname? ... at home or bahar... office or playground... meeting or conference... personal call or client call... anywhere!

In fact, you should now ask people to call by your nickname... pyaar badhta hai!

~~Written by Sonu~~

-----------

PS: In case you are commenting... do tell me your nickname, please.

Under the Clock

2010-07-31T23:24:00.007+05:30

It was the 12th of January… doesn’t matter what year!

Every year, the 12th of January was our mini-alumni day. That is the day the gang used to meet up and discuss the happenings of the year. It was on the last day of college that we decided for this mini-alumni event. All of left with a promise to make it to the event year on year.

Of course, we did use to stay in touch through sporadic phone calls, but the 12th was special!

Members of the gang:

Me (Keku), the fattest of all
Dalip, the dumbest of all
KC, the smartest of all
Bakshi, the craziest of all
Raahu, the bravest of all
Paandu, the stingiest of all

Yes! Our gang had a number of superlatives personified. We all stayed in different parts of India. Only KC and Bakshi came from the same—Gwalior.

Oh! I forgot to tell you the place of meeting. It had to be, of course, our favorite post-college hangout spot… the clock tower, 3 km from the engineering college in the town of Nahan in the state of Himachal Pradesh. Pretty interesting choice, eh? We loved the place.

So… coming back to the 12th this year—the last we met… and maybe the last ever we met.

Four of us had reached on time. The two Gwalior boys were missing… and late, as usual.

I remember the day well. It rained all through the day and maybe till the next morning. It was 2 p.m., an hour after the scheduled meeting time. The four of us were really happy to see each other. All three claimed I had become fatter… and they wanted me to shed some kilos before the next meet. As it continued to rain and we were waiting for the Gwalior boys, we had nothing to do but tell stories.

It was 5 p.m. and still no sign of the Gwalior boys. We could wait… and continue our chitchat. Possibly stirred by the incessant rain and the general monotony, the topics of our discussions turned to be a little paranormal.

Dalip recounted to us the tales of buses losing their control and falling into ravines after encountering ancient ghosts that haunt the bends on mountain roads.

Raahu then told us of jinns who engage themselves sportingly in fierce battles on moonless nights, leaving huge trampled circles in the corn fields. If not to the jinns, Raahu said, "to what else could these circles be attributed, for there were generally no storms or even rains on the previous night?"

As the sky turned gray and the downpour heavier, we had become confined to the old clock tower. As the clock struck 7, we saw a young man approaching toward us. Hey!!! That is KC. We were so happy to see our gang about to get complete. But why was he alone? Where was Bakshi?

The clock tower was desolate at that hour of the day. All shops were closed, except for a dimly lit tea stall that faced the clock tower. We could see steam coming out of hot tea that a merry old man was pouring into glasses. A young boy rushed to the tables to attend customers with a sense of emergency. We looked towards the tea stall as we talked and derived pleasure from the sight of steaming tea—it was very cold now—before it descended upon us that we wanted to have some tea too. Paandu gestured to the boy in the tea stall to bring five glasses of tea.

We all hugged KC and let him settle while the tea signaling was being done. The next thing had to be obvious. I asked, "where is Bakshi?"

The downpour still continued, and the last bus was making its appearance at the bus stop next to the clock tower.

Next to Dalip sat KC, who, after the question was hurled at him twice, opened his mouth for the first time. I forgot to mention earlier—KC looked very tired and sad. We had in our minds blamed it to a tiring journey.

KC said Bakshi was not…

"Not???" we asked.

"Around," he said.

"Not around," what does that mean KC?

KC cleared his throat. It looked like he was about to begin a story. I guessed it was some long story that would explain why Bakshi was missing and what KC meant when he said that Bakshi was not around.

KC was a fine storyteller! It must be mentioned here—he could describe faces with astounding precision, mimic voices and walks, and tell of mannerisms and habits of his subjects. Such were his talents that if he’d ever describe to you a man you haven’t met before, you’d recognize him the next time you bump into him. KC lit up a cigarette and immediately put up an air of thoughtfulness, while Paandu gestured to the tea stall to bring the tea jaldi. Meanwhile, we made ourselves comfortable on the low concrete fence that bordered the clock tower. KC continued…

"As you know, Bakshi liked boxing and would practice for hours at the club, sometimes with me and sometimes alone. Hours of practice had made Bakshi quite good; he moved his feet briskly and delivered powerful punches. In some friendly bouts, he had almost knocked his opponents down in a few blows. Though not very strongly built, he derived tremendous force from the speed with which he administered his blows."

KC then stopped to puff at his cigarette. It was still raining just as hard, and dark had begun to descend. All of us were now immersed in the story, keen to know what was wrong with Bakshi. After a couple of long puffs, KC continued.

"You know Bakshi had a very uncommon temperament. He would always get interested in bizarre things—anything that would give him a sense of novelty or adventure. He’d pretty easily get bored of routine. That, to me, seems the explanation why his passion for boxing gradually left him and why he turned to ganja (drugs). I remember him telling me how wonderful he felt after a round of ganja. He would advise me to try it, but I resisted. I knew this thing was not good and tried to get him interested in something else, but nothing worked.

He lost health, vivacity, and even confidence. Within a matter of months, he looked enervated—a lost soul plus an absolutely purposeless fellow. It saddened me. He began to miss his boxing sessions and would spend time at lonely places. On one of his lonely strolls down the Pir forest, he even discovered a little creek at the foot of the mountain—which was also the location of the royal cemetery. Bakshi had somehow developed a real liking for the cemetery. He once told me that ganja and the cemetery were all we wanted."

We sensed something bad had happened to Bakshi. Dalip’s face clearly suggested he was upset that things went that bad and he was never informed. KC resumed.

"A few days before Diwali, I had accompanied him to the cemetery on his insistence. I read the epitaph on one of the tombstones—it suggested that the grave belonged to the commonwealth war, when English soldiers were stationed at Gwalior cantonment. I have to confess that I immediately took a liking for the place; there was something inviting there—in the indolent October sun, bright marigolds that grew in plenty and the sensuously warm tombstones. Peace everywhere. No doubt Bakshi liked the place and would spend hours reclining at the tombstones or taking strolls in the narrow trails that winded down the creek. Often he’d bring a marigold or two along on his way back. As of me, I didn’t visit the place again. And as Bakshi began to spend more time at the cemetery and in the forest around, I didn’t meet him for days... until Diwali, when I saw him walking up the market street in the middle of the night. He passed by like a stranger. I noticed that he was carrying a pale marigold in his hand. I called out his name, but he kept walking. I then walked up to him, turned him about by his shoulder, and asked if he was alright.

For the next two minutes or so, Bakshi kept uttering something in English. He was talking about his "troops" being given some wrong information about the location of the "enemy". Moreover, Bakshi claimed that the enemy had shot everyone in his unit… and he should die too. He then stopped as abruptly as he had started and walked away into the dark.

What Bakshi had said was undoubtedly weird. But what struck me more was the fact that he had hardly uttered one correct sentence in English all his life. You remember how he used to stutter when it came to English?"

We nodded.

"And there he stood telling me the story of some troops killed by the enemy… with a diction that was so unmistakably English… as if…"

"Then?" said Dalip.

"On the same night, his lonely strolls came to an end when he reportedly fell off the cliff near the cemetery… and died."

"WHAT?"

I can’t even describe our reaction to what KC had just mentioned. I admit I was not very shocked because the way the story was unfolding, I had started to expect it. Dalip and Paandu cried. KC wiped something off his face and continued.

"The doctors at the civil hospital said it was the effect of excessive ganja. The drug, they said, made Bakshi act in rather peculiar ways and it might have been the delirium that took Bakshi on that night to the edge of the cliff. People believed this explanation; it was, after all, the most educated one. But… I know! It was not ganja."

And that was all that KC could tell us. He then puffed at whatever was left of his cigarette and started walking toward the back of the tower. Our public open-air urinal stayed there.

We were really sad. Something terrible had transpired. I began to ponder over what he had told us.

The noise of the rain suddenly returned and seemed to grow louder by the moment. It had grown quite dark by then, and the rain was coming down just as hard, which made a jet of water on the road moving swiftly down the slope.

The stillness broke with a honk, and the headlights of an auto rickshaw pierced the dark. Someone stepped out of the rickshaw and started walking toward us. The visibility was poor initially.

But as the person came closer, it turned out to be… Bakshi.

We all froze at once. He looked at us, a little unsure as to why his friends weren’t so welcoming. He did not look that happy.

We had no clue what was happening. But then I figured KC had made a fool of us. It was a really difficult point of time.

Bakshi looked at us, and said "KC is no more. I got late because I was at the cremation ground… had to take the next available train."

I looked in the direction that KC was supposed to come back from. No sign. Paandu, Raahu, and Dalip just sat. I have no idea what was going on in their minds.

Bakshi continued. "KC had been depressed since last few months. He claimed one of his friends from the the Gwalior cantonment had died at his hands in the war."

We listened helplessly.

"And then one day, KC fell off the cliff next to the forest."

The next moment we saw KC joining us. This had to be the most helpless I ever felt. I did not know what was going to happen next. Were they both lying?

The moment Bakshi saw KC, he jumped in his direction. KC screamed, "Officer, I’ll kill ya… ya enemy" and charged toward Bakshi.

The two crashed into each other right next to us… and whoosh…

...they disappeared!
---------------------------------------------END------------------------------------------

How Many Stars... Mr. Mohan?

2010-07-12T16:02:00.003+05:30

Vikrant Mehra: O my swee'heart... You're a born magician... You've performed a magic trick on me—I just don't seem to think of anything other than you.

Sweetheart Kumar (name undisclosed): (chuckles) Will you allow me to go out and perform these tricks on others? Like... I mean... Show my talent to the world?

Vikrant: You naughty baby! Don't even think of others... The world consists of just the two of us now onward.

...and they kissed each other...
...
...
...and another one... followed by a third... while a hidden camera captured the scene and made a 10-minute movie.

After the sweetheart left, Vikrant went to the camera controls, viewed the tape, and said, "perfect." Next, he took the tape out, put it in an envelope, sealed it, and wrote on it.

The envelope was addressed to Mohan Kumar who worked as the Senior Correspondent for a high-ranking newspaper. Mohan's job included movie reviews. He was often referred to as "Mr. Reviewer."

Oh! Another question—Who's that Vikrant... and that sweetheart?

Vikrant was an actor who'd done three movies in all... last being Papa Jaag Jayega (PJJ). And by the way, his sweetheart was Mr. Reviewer's daughter. No need to mention her name. Kyon badnaam karna faaltu mei?

Clearly... in the above scene, Vikrant was doing what he did best... acting! He was fooling her.

Coincidentally, two couriers were delivered to Mr. Reviewer's house that day.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

...CLICK...

...CLICK...
...CLICK CLICK...
0

Someone was clicking photographs without the subjects having any knowledge of it.

"Ah, this one will do," said the cameraman Paras. "This one" described a guy chatting with his colleague... pure chatting... no hanky panky, mind you!

Paras then put the photograph in an envelope and sent it to Mr. Reviewer's wife. The envelope read "Your Husband's Latest Affair."

A note about Paras—he used to be a cameraman in Bollywood movies, last being PJJ.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Helppppp... Helppppp... Helpppp...," shouted someone.

This someone was being kidnapped. The kidnappers had been hired by a certain Mr. Kranti Singh.

Kranti Singh who? Kranti was a prominent villain of the Bollywood industry. His last role was in a movie called PJJ.

...and the guy shouting for help was the teenage son of... you know... a movie reviewer known as Mohan Kumar.

On hearing the 'confirmation' from one of the kidnappers, Kranti picked up the phone and dialed a number...

Mohan... bahut review ka shauk hai tujhe? Tera beta mere kabze mei hai... hahahahahahahaha... hahahahahaha... hahahahahahaha... (hangs up).

[Mohan, you are very fond of reviewing, right? I have kidnapped your son... (laughter followed by phone hanged up)]
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

News of actors, cricketers, and all do-biggers joining Twitter was making headlines. But, something that had been totally overlooked was the new blog created by a movie writer, Telgi.

Telgi was a Bollywood movie writer... his last movie was PJJ. After the disappointment of that movie, Telgi realized how the success of movies also depends on critics and other frill reviewers. Telgi had been gutted at the fact that one such reviewer had made the whole of his last effort look so dumb.

Anyways, this blog that Telgi had created was for giving review comments to movie reviewers. Yes, you read it right. Telgi, in his blog, would review the work of movie reviewers. The name of his blog was something similar to tu-toh-gaya-mohan@blogspot...

In this blog, Telgi had decided to make one particular reviewer's life hell. No prizes for guessing the reviewer's name.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Meanwhile, a pretty lady was seen entering a local police station.

"I want to complaint about this guy... he has been calling me late nights... sending SMSs... and may even be stalking me..."

"Do you have any idea who it could be?"

"Yes... seems like this guy who works as a reviewer for this newspaper. His name is Mohan Kumar."

"Okay ma'm. Let us find out what's happening. Give us your mobile number..."

Meera Gagroo, the Bollywood actress, last seen in PJJ, had just made an exit from the police station.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

ENOUGH...

Ok. What's happening here, guys?

Kyon peeche pade hue hain sab Mister Reviewer ke... ??

This goes a month back in time. The movie PJJ was supposed to release. Its cast and crew were super excited about the whole thing. Most of them were quite fresh into the industry, and therefore, they had high hopes from the movie. They had put in a lot of effort over a period of 8 months, and naturally, all of them were nervous.

The movie was to release on Friday, and unfortunately, its release date clashed with a big-budget movie. It was a known fact that the public had become smarter and started going for movies only after having read the movie reviews floating in the market. A known name in this business of reviewing was Mohan Kumar (Mr. Reviewer).

So... while PJJ was being released... a sad story for its crew was unfolding simultaneously. As it was later known to the crew, the guys behind the big movie that was releasing the same day had paid a huge sum to Mohan Kumar and asked him to thrash PJJ—this would by default benefit the big movie.

The next morning, an excited crew read this in the movie-review section of a newspaper (on the left).

Now... of course, please don't for a moment think that such reviews were allowed. Mohan got a big warning from his boss. The boss wanted Mohan to be specific and write about actual stories than generically talking about filth contained in movies. Mohan was okay with the big warning... the money he had received was big too.

Going back to the crew now...

Dejected... was of course the word. Even though the review did not talk anything specific about the movie, it had changed the revenues considerably... and in the negative direction. A lot of people, after having read the review, did not give PJJ any chance. Some of the people who watched it were confused as to why such a review was given... after all, the movie was okay for watching once at least.

And hence... it resulted in a pissed-off crew of PJJ. Making movies was their job... and now they wanted to seek a movie-style revenge... on Mohan! Therefore, they did what they did.

However, do you think the story could end here? Of course not!

Life always has its ways of getting back at people. Mohan was struggling big time... being hit from all directions. Let's summarize his state:

His daughter was kissing flop actors and making videos out of it.
His son had been kidnapped.
His wife was complaining of him having an affair with some random colleague. She left for her mother's place... blaming Mohan for the kidnapped son.
He was being questioned by the police for stalking this actress.
His work was being ripped apart in some random blog by a movie writer.
His boss was pissed off at him for making use of the newspaper's review section in the way Mohan did. Thankfully, the boss did not know the motive. Else...

Not good!

A month later, Mohan's things had considerably improved. His daughter vowed she'd never get close to anyone. The son had god-knows-from-where returned two days after the kidnapping. Wife was still not around, but he was okay with it. Police had acquitted him in the case of stalking the actress. His stories were still being scrutinized by Telgi's blog... and his boss was normal now.

Mohan knew very well what had happened. The timing of all the incidents and some of the people involved could not have been coincidental. He knew that PJJ's people had everything to do with everything that had happened. Not surprisingly, he even knew why they did what they did.

A month later, Mohan was visited by some of the crew members of PJJ. They wanted to apologize for everything. The producer even invited Mohan for the exclusive premier of their next movie, Chal Phoot Le. The producer told Mohan that most of the cast of Chal Phoot Le was the same as PJJ... and all were happy to invite Mohan over for the premier.

At first, Mohan did not believe what was happening. Anyways, he did not care much.

He had never for a minute thought the episode was over. He was waiting for opportunities to get back... and opportunity is exactly what he got!

...in the form of that invitation.

Having sat through the premier, Mohan was flabbergasted. A movie shot in a room with just one person sitting and narrating the incidents of his life... what kind of a movie was that?

Here's a scene from the movie... the actor sat like this for 3 hours... in almost the same angle... with almost the same expressions... and kept uttering something or the other. Replay this video in your mind for 3 hours, and you could almost get a pirated copy of the movie.

Rubbish!

"One stupid-looking actor... in the whole movie... blabbering nonstop all through. You call that a movie? You must be kidding me."

Mohan thought this movie was made with a budget of Rupees 100/-.

Anyways, he got what he wanted.

The next morning his reviews would be on paper even before the first show was played in theatres.

---------------------------

As expected, Mohan did a royal thrashing of the movie.

His comments were so harsh that a number of people felt pity for the director. Mohan knew he needed to be specific else his boss would go mad again. He did so.

On the left is the article that Mohan did for Chal Phoot Le.

BANG!

A day later, a cyclone had hit Mohan's life.

He lost his job and reputation....

…immediately after his newspaper lost its high rank and credibility
…immediately before being sued by the team of Chal Phoot Le

Chal Phoot Le, apparently, had turned out to be a normal family movie... with usual scenes... usual songs... usual comedy. Its story was based on unwelcomed guests... bell-ringing salesmen... etc.

Mohan's review was not even 1% close to the actual. He'd been duped. He realized that the director-producer duo of Papa Jaag Jayega was planning bigger things while the other crew members were playing around with him.

The premier... the crowd... even the movie... all was a hoax! They never showed the real movie that day.

However, Mohan's bevakoofi was showcased for real!

--------------------------------------------THE END----------------------------------------

Nutcase of a Race

2010-06-28T22:37:00.007+05:30

.
.
'Buddy, yo're forgettin... Lance Armstrong comes from our countree'
'Well... if you got Armstrong... we got strong arms'
'Bullshit! U sure you wanna do it? There'z laat of embarrassment ya'll be facin'
'Laat? Woh toh tumko padegi... angrez ki aulaado... we'll see'
.
.

Those were some of the last exchanges between the Indian and American HR Managers. Excuse me!?! Which HR Managers are you talking about?

Well, it's the HR Managers working for AccentPuncture Consultants (ApC), a global organization with more than 20k employees across 30 different countries. ApC was in the process of hosting its first ever cross-continent 'sports event' for its employees. The venue was India.

...and the managers in question were throwing their pre-race tantrums. To be specific, they were talking about the cycle race that was to take place in a few days between an Indian representative and an American representative from the ApC.

That was an introduction, a prologue.

And now, it's time for the report. This comes directly to you from our journalist - Cheepad Kumar - who covered the sports event. He was well assisted by our cameraman, Jayantilaal.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Date: 12th November'09
Start Time: 9 a.m.
End Time: 11:20 a.m.
Location: New Delhi, India
Distance: 15 km
Route: Kendi Po Colony to the ApC premises
Participants: 2
Participants' Description: Stig Heckeler, a senior consultant with ApC America, and Tukaram Janjeera, a janitor from ApC India

Key Facts

The event was very prestigious. Forget ApC, the participants were, in a way, representing their countries.
Due to the non-availability of the racing space, the contest took place on the road... in the middle of normal traffic. This is what had been told to the world; however, in reality, the Indian HR Manager wanted to make the full use of home conditions. He knew his racer would be skilled enough to handle the adverse traffic situations... and, at the same time, the American racer would not even start the race... forget about the completion bit.
Stig, the racer from ApC America, represented his university for a couple of cycling tournaments. There was nothing else to speak of his cycling... till the ApC race of course.
The Indian racer had been coming to office on his cycle since long... and so... somehow... by default... he became the first preference for the event. Smart choice, you think?
One day, before the race, the two participants had been shown the route, the pit stops and the finishing line. Stig was happy it was a simple straight-line route, and he did not need to memorize stuff.
The participants had also been warned about the impending traffic conditions. They both knew traffic would be playing a big role in the event.

Cycles: Stig preferred a sports cycle. His favourite colour was blue. So, obviously, he got a blue sports cycle. When Tukaram was asked about his choice, he suddenly started feeling very important and became very excited about the whole thing. Anyways, he opted for his own cycle, which he was most comfortable with. On the left is the cycle that was used by Stig... and on the right is Tukaram's.

Participants (in their gear): We clicked the photos of the two participants just before the race began, but ApC did not want us to publish them. We have not been given any reason for the same. Anyways, we've cut the heads to at least show you the gear. Left is Stig in his cycling jersey... and a pair of shorts under it. On the right is Tukaram posing exclusively for us... looking ever so relaxed. Note that he changed into a brown pullover after we clicked the photos. Maybe this green one was his 'photo' pullover. His lower half was covered by tight and ill-fitting pants. It's good that Jayantilaal didn't capture the pants.

Helmets: The ApC made it compulsory for both participants to wear helmets. Stig asked for a blue helmet that would match his cycle. On the other side, Tuka did not want any helmet. He could not quite understand why he needed a helmet. Anyways, after being forced to wear one, he picked a helmet from one of his scooterist friends. Left is Stig's; right is Saif Ali Khan's. Kidding! Of course, Tukaram's!

Water Break Arrangement: It was decided that both riders would have to compulsorily take a water break at the 5 km mark. On being asked for their preferences, Stig chose the branded stuff... while Tuka wanted his usual.

Energy Break Arrangement: The managers had decided for another pit stop... this time at the 10 km mark. At this juncture, the participants were to be offered their choice of energy boosters. Stig was very happy with the idea of an energy break... he definitely wanted the best cycling drink around. Tuka got confused. He had no idea what to ask for. Eventually, he uttered 'khaini aur gutka'.

Any Other Requirement: Stig was unsure what that meant. What other requirement? He declined. However, Tuka knew what he wanted. He wanted to carry his tiffin box. He said that it helped him shoo away pedestrians. The American HR Manager agreed to this absurd demand.

Race-Day Events: We now bring to you the events captured by Cheepad Kumar. He was on his motorcycle with Jayantilaal, covering the event. Here are the details of the event... in the words of Cheepad himself.

1. Even though the race started at 9 a.m., Stig was first spotted at 9:12 and Tuka at 9:14. Because of the extreme traffic conditions, it had become impossible to spot the two racers earlier. I must say it was bizarre to organize the race in the middle of heavy traffic... and during the office hour.

2. At 9:20, apparently, Stig was leading the race by 12 cars, 18 bikes, 2 buses, 3 scooters, 12 other cycles, and 28 pedestrians. This may sound like a huge difference, but surprisingly, it was only 30 metres that separated the two racers.

3. Stig had never raced in such conditions. But to his advantage, he had prepared for all this. He had clearly been told what to expect on Indian roads... and he knew that vehicles could be found on his left and right and even above him. The thing that worked in his favour was that he hardly understood any of the abuses hurled at him for getting in the way and, at times, overtaking some of the 'engined' vehicles. No distractions!

4. Tuka stared at all the women he possibly could. Be it on the road, in buses, at home windows... just wherever they could be found. At the same time, a lot of women stared at this fair-skinned guy in racing gear... coming from nowhere... going nowhere.

5. At 9: 40, Tuka, around half a km behind Stig, took a left turn. Now that was not part of the race. However, three minutes later, Tuka was found back on track. It was later realized that Tuka took a diversion to return the helmet to his friend, who was about to leave for work... on his scooter.

6. Stig took his water break at 9:50. Tuka took his at 10:02. This clearly indicates Stig was ahead at the 5 km mark.

7. At the 8 km mark, the leadership changed hands. There was a heavy traffic jam on one of the red lights... and all Stig could see was the big butts of the guy on a scooter. There was no way out. However, when he glanced towards left, he could not quite believe the scene. Tuka was carrying his cycle on his head... and walking on the footpath meant for pedestrians. 'Cheater, cheater', he shouted. People around Stig couldn't quite understand what was happening. And so, we had a new leader in the race.

8. The next stop was the energy break at the 10 km mark. Tuka made it at 10:25 while Stig, who clearly had some catching up to do, was there at 10:34. Tuka took the khaini, rubbed it on his left palm, mixed some choona... and stuck the whole thing in some random corner of his mouth. A couple of Americans who were present could not quite understand what that was about. They suspected it to be some performance-enhancing drug. They wanted to complain. When Stig came, he took his energy drink and left in 20 seconds. It was more like a drink between two heartbeats... than on a break. He knew he needed to catch up.

9. At 10:40, Stig banged into a family... well, a family on a cycle. A man, his wife, and three children were going somewhere on a cycle... when Stig hit them from behind. Apparently, someone in front had pressed his brakes for no reason, and a chain reaction of breaks engulfed the lane... which ended when Stig hit this family. He said, 'am saari'. The family man stayed quiet... while his wife thought the stranger had passed a remark about her saari.

10. At 10:50, the mudguard of Tuka's cycle came off and started rubbing against the front tyre. Repair time! Tuka managed another 20 metres before he stopped at the Bittu Pincher Wala. Well well... the leadership changed hands again. Stig passed Tuka without noticing the events at the repair shop. A point to note—this shop was 3 km away from the finish line.

11. As soon as Tuka got the necessary repairs done, he restarted at full throttle. The only thing was... he didn't know where Stig was. At the same time, even Stig did not know where Tuka was. But we knew where they were. Stig was a km away from the finish, and Tuka was a km away from Stig.

At that point, 11:15 a.m., Stig seemed to be the clear favourite. Standing at the finish line, just outside the ApC premises, Americans were extremely pleased on sighting Stig a couple of hundred metres away.

The Indian contingent had already started abusing Tuka; they even planned to fire him.

Anyways, just 50 metres were left... and Stig could be clearly seen in the left-most lane. The whole of his right was occupied by a truck and a tractor, moving exactly at the same speed, blocking the whole traffic.

.
.

40 metres...

30 metres...

.
.
.
.

Finish!!!
0

...and we had a winner - Tukaram Janjeera - representing the Indian ApC.

Wait... err... how come?

Thankfully, Jayantilaal clicked just at the right time... for you readers! We've highlighted Tukaram in the pic.

Damn! He was holding onto the tractor that had just overtaken Stig... and so he won... making the Indian ApC proud... and the American ApC clueless!

What an event... what a finish!
:o

~~Cameraman Jayantilaal ke saath, Cheepad Kumar~~

-----------------------------------------------END-------------------------------------------------

Just One Peg Please

2010-06-14T00:01:00.016+05:30

The Pee-paa-k family was a wealthy one. They owned a highly fertile land in some obscure village of Haryana. Moreover, in addition to being known for their land earnings, the family was regarded for having the most unique surname around. The only problem, if ever there was one, was the fact that they were uneducated.

It was because of this lack of education that the father accidentally named his kid 'Peg'. He had been fond of foreign names. And when this child was born, he approached one of the tourists for getting a suggestion on... an English name, maybe! The tourist, in complete apathy and inebriation, said 'Peg' and walked away. The father liked the sound... and thus, we have a Mr. Peg Pee-paa-k—the central character of this story.

Now then! Peg, unlike his father, completed his city education and with good grades. With the exception to his name, he was a decent fellow on all counts. Peg could manage a job in the city, but he chose to go back to his village. He wanted to teach. He wanted to teach the adults... so that they could make something better of their lives. Who knows... maybe Peg did not want another case of such stupidity in naming a child.

He advertised his 'classes' for a number of days. The age limit for eligibility was +35. I clearly remember it was the first day of school and three students turned up. Here's a description on the students and their first classroom words:

Lakkad Singh (Carpenter, 36) - Waah waah... furniture kitna achcha hai class mein...
Subjee Singh (Vegetable Seller, 40) - Class ke baad yaha maal bech lunga thoda...
Dhishoom Singh (Wannabe Local Goon, 34) - Koi aunty nahi aayi?

Peg welcomed his students before introducing himself. Although he was disappointed by the turnout, he was kind of happy to at least make a start. He was even amused to find them sharing the same last name... 'still, much better than mine', he thought.

He began his first session with some basic sounds and pronunciations. His students fared well in their pretest... except the fact that none of them could pronounce the name of their teacher. The best, actually the worst, they could manage was a subtle... Pig Sir...

An hour that day and the school was over. 'Slow and easy to start', thought Peg. His day was okay... except for some bullies from Dhishoom and a gross manifestation of his name.

The plan for the next day was A-B-C-D. Peg educated his students about the importance of A-Z and how it formed the base of the English language. His students seemed to agree with him. Peg instructed the students to repeat after him... and expected them to memorize simultaneously. The students nodded.

Peg began...

A for Apple (Students, chorus: Aeee faaar Ayappal)...

B for Boy (Chorus: Bhee faar byee)...

C for Cat (Chorus: Seee faar Kate)...

D...

E...

F for Fish (Chorus: Effh faar Pheashhh)...

...until Peg wondered, 'do they even know what these things are?'

He asked if the students knew the items in the A-B-C-D. The students nodded in unison. Although impressed, Peg still decided to take a mini test. What is fish? Fish kya hoti hai?

Here's what the students said:

Lakkad - Lakdi banane ki FEES...
Subjee - oFFIS ke bahar sabji bechta hoon mai...
Dhishoom - kele pe ladki FEESliiii...

Ahhh, said Peg. He was happy he enquired in time. 'It wouldn't work this way; they don't know anything.'

Peg thought of two options... (a), he continues the usual way, explaining the meanings on the way... or (b), he uses words that are known to his students. A minute later, Peg thought of a third option - (c), he'd explain the sound and ask them to come up with words. C, he finalized.

Peg explained how the sound system worked and gave them some examples. Next, he informed them of the assignment—he would say the alphabet along with its sound, and his students were to give him words from their personal dictionaries.

Can you guess what happened next? Well, next, we had three amazingly absurd versions of the alphabet. I say absurd, but I know they were the most relevant ones for the people in question. Take a look below. This comes to you direct from the students.

(Note: These are samples... the complete list is right at the end of the post... for reference.)

Carpenter Lakkad Singh's responses included...
A for Aari...
B for Baksa...
...
D for Dehaadi...
...
G for Gutkaa

H for Hathoda...

...

N for Namastey Ji...
O for Ozaar...
P for Paechkas...
...

Peg had to control himself big time. He could not stop laughing the first minute but was in awe of Lakkad Singh the second. It was brilliant. Lakkad had grasped the sounds so well that he actually managed to create something that can be termed as 'Alphabet for Carpenters'. Peg was very happy; he had a bright student. Next, he turned to Subjee Singh.

Veg seller Subjee Singh's responses included...

A for Aaloo...

B for Beans...

...

D for Do Kilo...

...

H for Hari Sabzee...

O for O Madame Ji...

...

Q for Qaraari Moolii

S for Sabzeeeeee Layyyyy Lowwwwww....

...

Y for Yashomati, Humree Biwiii...

...

Whoa! Subjee Singh had stunned Peg. He not only caught the correct sounds but also the perfect words... most of them. 'This is brilliant.' Peg was equally impressed with his second student. He had realized he was teaching a class of at least 2/3rd brilliant guys. To be honest, he did not expect much from the last student... but the last student's turn it was.

Wannabe goon Dhishoom Singh's responses included...

A for Aawara...

B for Bhai...

C for Chiknaa...

D for Don...

...

K for Kutte Kamine...

O for O O Jaane Jaana...

...

S for Supaari

...

X for XXX Filam...

Y for Yawn Shoshan...

...

Brilliant were all the three students. They just needed some education on the sound system... and within half an hour, the class was able to produce three new sets of the English alphabet.

It was the day learning had taken place... more in Peg than the students. He went home and reflected on the day. Something terrific had happened. Peg realized that:

Not getting the right 'start' does not make anyone less smart... people often learn more in real life than in classes.
Education, with relevance, is much more fun and retention oriented. People he thought to be uneducated came up with stuff he couldn't dream of. Only because they spoke of the stuff they could relate to... given the total comfort zone!
Education is necessary for all, adults and children. After all, only an education-seeking wannabe goon would say 'H for Hey Bhagwaan and not Hathiyaar'.

That does look like the end of the story, but it isn't!

The classes went fine and the school gained mileage... and Peg did manage to teach a lot of adults. They made good use of the learning they gained from the village adult school @ Pig Sir.

Peg, just like his father, had become a notable public figure. He was loved by villagers... so much so that two of his first three pupils named at least one of their kids... in utter respect for the teacher... PEG!

------------------------------------------THE END------------------------------------------------------

Reference: Only for those interested in the complete set of alphabets produced by the students...

Keep Learning!
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About the Post

This post was published by me as a team member of The Wordsworth Legions for the SUPER 5 round of Bloggers Premier League (BPL) – The first ever unique, elite team blogging event of blog world - hosted by GingerChai.com.

The topic (category - humor) I had been assigned was 'A Humoros Post on Adult Education'.

...and this post won the 1st prize in the category mentioned above!!

kanKaal Center

2010-06-11T13:44:00.001+05:30

The Bank of JoJoPePe opened its branch in the Chaknur village, somehwere in Haryana. Surprisingly, the bank, though low-staffed, had call center services as well. The number to their call center was advertised all over. This seems to be the story on papers. However, in reality, there was no call center. The telephone number reached the personal desk of the Branch Manager.

This concept of call center was just to lure customers. If somone did call the telephone number, a human intervention was considered divine. That's because all that existed on that number was a machine that would only irritate the callers.

Mummu, one of the bank's customers, is seen here calling the call center. He wants to ask for a new chequebook.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tring Tring... Tring Tring... Tring Tring... Tring Tring... Tring Tring... Tring Tring... Tring Tring... Tring Tring... Tring Tring...

The phone is picked and put on hold. There is some music playing in the background. Mummu doesn't know he'll have to listen to this music for the next 15 minutes. Moreover, after every 2 minutes, he hears this - (in the Vodafone tune) Youuuuuu and aiiiiiii, in this Chaknur village..... Youuuuuu and aiiiiiii, in this Chaknur village.....

After 15 minutes

Welcome to the JoJoPePe Bank. To continue in English, press 1. For Hindi, press 2. For any other language, please get someone who understands Hindi or English.

'1'

English. If you are an existing customer, press 1. If you don't exist anymore, press 2.

'1'

For bank account, press 1. For credit card, although we don't deal in credit cards, still, press 2.

'1'

For knowing the balance, press 1. For requesting a new chequebook, press 2. For closing the account, press 3. For closing the bank, press 4. For hanging up the call, press 5 and hang up.

'2'

Why do you want a new chequebook? For 'old chequebook finished', press 1. For 'old chequebook lost', press 2. For 'old chequebook stolen', press 3. For 'old chequebook burnt', press 4. For 'old chequebook bhow bhow eaten', press 5.

'1'

Where did you use all the cheques? For business purposes, press 1. For personal purposes, press 2.

'1'

What kind of business are you into? For kheti-baadi, press 1. For factory, press 2. For chowkidaar, press 3. For others, press some other number.

'2'

Does your factory emit gases? For yes, press 1. For no, press 2.

'1' (By this time, Mummu is getting real pissed)

(Music plays in between - Youuuuuu and aiiiiiii, in this Chaknur village..... Youuuuuu and aiiiiiii, in this Chaknur village...)

What did you have for lunch? For roti sabji dal, press 1. For roti sabji minus dal, press 2. For chaval dal, press 3.

'8' (Mummu, in anger, presses 8 to see what happens)

Sorry. We know they don't have Pizzas here. It was not an option. Please choose from 1, 2, or 3.

'1' (Mummu wants to kill someone now)

.
.
.
.
.
.
Ok, coming back to the point, you want a new chequebook? For yes, press 1. For no, press 2.

'1' (Mummu is happier now)

Do you know that our bank is the only bank that has bank at the bank of river? For yes, press 1. For no, press 2.

'1' (Half an hour has passed and Mummu has started abusing the machine)

Do you promise to make good use of the chequebook? For yes, press 1. For no, press 2.

'1' (Now, the default patience limit of half an hour has passed, and the machine decides it's time for humans.)

In case you wish to speak to our customer care officer, press 9.

'9' (Mummu decides he will rip apart the officer and the bank for all this)

Our phone officers are busy at the moment; please wait.

'9' (Mummu waits for 15 minutes... listening to lousy classical music.... and presses 9 again... in disgust)

Okay, as you wish. You have been put at the end of the queue. Please wait.
(Mummu curses himself... and waits for another half an hour. Finally, the Branch Manager picks up the phone. It's time he gave his customer some service.)

Manager: Good afternoon. Welcome to JoJoPePe Bank. How can I help you?

Mummu: I think you are a fuckin... (pauses) ummm... I need a chequebook.

Manager: Sure sir. Please visit the bank branch for the same. You will get a chequebook request form. On the form, there will be a unique reference code. You need to call back with that unique reference code. Thanks. Have a good day (hangs up).

Three days later, Mummu's chequebook is delivered to the Chaknur jail.

Penning the Love

2010-05-31T00:23:00.009+05:30

Dear Diary

Love is of course there. But, we share a great physical relationship. On every single visit, he leaves marks all over my body. And on every next visit, I am blank... waiting for his love to fill me again.

Some might say it's not wise to get involved everyday. I don't buy that. I love every minute of it. Infact, I was born for him to do that to me.

The curves on his cylinderical body turn me on. However, in reality, I don't do anything. I stay still while he does what he does best. That's our way. Oooo!

Often, we take a break... and that's the time he lies on me. Ah! God knows how much I love it. I could spend my whole life that way. God even knows how I keep asking for more and more time with him.

I clearly remember the first time we met. I was new in the neighbourhood, and I presumed he had been there for quite some time. He came to me on the second day of my 'new address'. He took off his cap and made immediate contact with me. That day onward, he comes everyday. That day onward, I wait everyday.

And everyday, I feel him all over my body... from left to right... left to right... left to right... left to right... while he moves from top to bottom.... top to bottom... over and over again.

I sometimes wonder, what is the end of this story? Are we going to be like this always? All physical and no talks! But then, I also wonder why I didn't know him earlier. Had we been in the same class, we would have spoken much more. Moreover, I am damn sure we would have been quite together in many tests in the class—after all, P is not that far away from N!

It's night and I should sleep now. Tomorrow's another day... with my darling.

Notebook

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That was a diary entry from Notebook. She loves the pen that works on her during days... and she thinks about him at nights.

Below is the diary entry from Pen... for the same day.

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Hey Diary

Bored of these females now. Pad, File, Paper, Notebook... go away and get lost!

Hoping to get introduced to a new girl... What about Sheets? (wink) :)

Pen

Daughtered and Slaughtered

2010-05-18T00:49:00.003+05:30

I don't remember my parents. I mean, the biological parents. As long as my memory takes me, I have always been with the couple who adopted me... so, they became my parents by default.

Because they have been my parents, I am in a bigger shock for what they did to me. Was that because I'm a female? Yes, I am a female... and in India, females have not enjoyed a lot of freedom since the beginning. I know the times are changing... and I am sure there will be perfect parity some years from now. I hope.

Coming back to my story. My parents asked me to sleep with a stranger! What kind of parents would do that to their child? Even though I may have been adopted; still, who does that kind of shit?

So, I did as I was asked. Did I have any choice? This guy totally overpowered me for I don't know how long. When the thing was done, he went his way and I went home. God knows what deal he'd struck with my mommie daddie. You know what followed next? Don't you? I was expecting soon after! No marriage no nothing... and I was expecting. I wouldn't raise a voice... because I couldn't. They were my parents.

Anyway, I clearly remember it to be January when I delivered twins—a cute male and an unfortunate (as I realize the status of females in here) opposite gender. Okay... so, I didn't know. Seriously, what could I do with the kids? Who and where was their daddy?

But the love for the twins proved overwhelming! I started enjoying their company, but it turned out to be temporary. A month later, my parents gave away my son... to god knows who. I kept crying, but they hardly noticed the tears.

Just because I was adopted and given a home... did not mean I could be subjected to all that! Do you think they are humans? I think otherwise.

Ignoring the pathetic parents, all I am left with is my lovely daughter. Now, I just hope they don't take her away.
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Written by a female doggie who's badly missing her male pup... and wondering what her owner got out of sending him away... and how come the female stays back in this anti-female place...

"You love your kids like hell... and sell ours... I ask why..."

I'm Embarassed

2010-04-16T03:11:00.002+05:30

Like in the previous post, I still don't have a new story to tell. There are three ideas in the making, and one of them should be out very soon. It almost feels like I am talking about the release of my next film. Anyways...

So, for this time, I am going to continue with the 'personal' label. I feel like talking about some of my most embarassing moments. Although there is a huge list... I am interested in talking about four. Why's that? Because you don't have time to read many.

1. This happened a year ago. Let me give you a brief first. I am a flexible person... with multiple personalities... and friends at completely different ends of the society.

I could speak hi-fi stuff with a sophisticated person... and replicate the ease in my conversations with Gujjar boys.

So... one day, one of my friends, a Gujjar boy, almost at the stroke of a new relationship (girlfriend), asked me to send some romantic hindi one liners to him on SMS.

I wrote some cheap off-the-shelf stuff and sent the message... but not to him... but to my client. HUGE MISTAKE!

The client was a female... and my message read stuff like:

"Mai pagal ho gaya hoon tumhare liye... aur tum ab tak deewani bhi na ho paai?"
"Tumhari aankhen mei khud ko mai sundar dikhta hoon... vaise badsurat"

Grrr... I am getting embarassed even while writing this. haha. I wonder what she thought of me... coz the messages didn't even look like ones I'd send my gf.

2. This is again a year ago. I was quitting my ex organization and during the farewell speech, I said some stuff that could only be misconstrued.

At a particular point, what I intended to say something like "... it does not attract me to... blah blah blah..."

The exact terms I ended up using were "... it does not arouse my thing to..."

Yuck yuck.

3. This incident is purely out of laziness. I was in class 6th or 7th. The recess usually got followed by Games period on one of the fortunate days. We had a separate uniform for games (PT), which we used to change into during recess.

I remember the class was empty... people had left for games. I was yet to change... and in total insanity... I took off my shorts right there in the classroom. I mean I was quite confident about maintaining privacy. But, as you can guess, it was not to be.

Right at the moment I dropped my shorts, two girls entered! Holy shit. I sat on my chair—put my bag on my lap—and let the shorts remain on ground—all in a second. Shit! Shit ! Shit!

The girls knew what was happening... but walked off soon... thank you R and S!

4. We (family) were going somewhere... and putting stuff in the car - a precursor to usual Punjabi family outings.

In a moment of I dont know what... Instead of saying "Isko gaadi ki dikky mei rakh do"... I said "Isko gaadi ki dick mei rakh do".

Dad was the at the other end of the conversation.

Homely Anomaly

2010-04-07T01:11:00.000+05:30

Ever heard somone leaking out family secrets?

Today, I am going to do just that. I am going to tell you one thing about my mom, dad, bro, and grandma each—that I find weird. I choose today as the day because all four things happened today. Read on.

1. Mommy - She is somehow... how do I put it... I mean... adamant. She is adamant that all meals of the day should be eaten irrespective of whatever. So, to explain this... suppose I am not hungry enough for breakfast one day. It is at about 1 o clock that I feel the craving, and I end up eating my share of parathas from the breakfast. It all sounds good till here... parathas have been yummy. But... what next? Well, she comes back at 1:20 to offer lunch! I mean.. wait... what? I just had food... didn't I? To her - breakfast and lunch are two separate things... and can even be consumed one after the other.

2. Daddy - Ever since he bought Tata Sky Plus, he is of the opinion that every damn thing in the world can be and should be recorded. That is still acceptable... but my problem starts when he treats a TV serial and a live cricket match at par. I mean he somehow manages to assign me a task at the time a live match is keeping me busy... and coolly says, record kar lo... aake dekh lena. Well, that is really irritating. A live match is supposed to be watched live - in my view. One can record a serial and watch it later... which is what he loves doing :)

3. Brother - He is in class XII... is a little shy and practical... does not open up with people easily. Moroever, this ten-year gap between us ensures we have a bada-chota kind of relationship and not the usual bhai-bhai. He comes across as a reserved person... keeping things to himself. All is well till here. My problem starts when he starts singing the songs of advertisements... when they are on air. I mean.. these are not funky punky songs... no foot-tapping numbers... but simple gharelu rhyming songs... I have never ever heard him sing any movie song... but he goes whole heartedly for the advertisement songs. I think you might not find this very weird... but considering the kind of person he is, it is weird for him to sing in open... and that too, those lousy mini songs.

4. Grandma - She is 80+ and amazingly active. That is perfect. The issue I have is this habit of hers of shaking hands. She does it only to me... I mean whenever I go and hi hello to her... she likes to shake hands. It's not terribly weird... but somewhat weird :)

That's the immediate family... and they're great!

The School tRIP

2010-03-26T15:31:00.000+05:30

The RDX International School is the best 'terror' school in town. It boasts of producing the finest of national and international terrorists.

Just for your information, only terrorists' kids go to this school. Parents, in order to apply for their kids' admission, have to submit the application form along with a proof that they (parents) are/have been 'wanted' by the police. Moreover, a 'reward' announced by the police on any one or both parents of a kid gives them preferential treatment... of course!

The school is organizing a trip for kids, and a note about the same has been sent to parents. Here is how it reads.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear You Bloody Terror Parents,

Dhishoom dhishoom dhishkiyaon dhishkiyaon!

We have detonated a school trip for your 'future bomb' kids next month. We will first go to Pakistan, spend 15 days there, and then move to the heavenly Afghanistan. The most fun part will be the quiet and peaceful border shared by the two countries.

The whole trip is sponsored by the money received from the noble acts of extortions and kidnappings. So, you don't need to make any similar efforts and collect the money. Attendance is compulsory! Note that it is a great opportunity to see our bullets turning into grenades.

Some of the key activities of the trip will be:

1. Jigsaw Game: The kids will be taken to a nuclear power plant, and each will be given parts of a nuclear missile. They will then need to assemble the parts and create proper missiles.

2. Hide n Seek: The denner, instead of saying 'I spy', will fire rubber bullets at the 'hiding' kids. Whoever is hit first is the next denner.

3. Nursery Rhymes: We have a collection of lovely nursery rhymes that we will teach the kids. For example:

Jack and Jill went up the hill to keep an eye on the border,
Then Jack came down and so did Jill, on the commander's order!

4. Chess: We will play chess with real horses, camels, elephants, kings, and queens. The only variation from the usual version will be that this will be an all-out war like Mahabharata and not about moving here and there on those stupid black and white boxes.

5. Shooting Shooting: There will be a number of open-air shooting arenas for target practice. This includes the cool game in which some kids will keep apples on their heads while others aim and shoot.

All of the above are just a small part of excitement. There will be a lot more.

Oh… forgot to add - we will also teach your kids respect for elders. The kids will stay with our learned people who are hiding and staying in camps… there is truly a lot to learn from their experiences.

Excited? It's obviously a great opportunity!

Still thinking whether to allow your kids? You must read the note below.

NOTE: Parents not wanting to send their kids will be termed 'against' the community and shot dead. And even after that, we will still be happy to send their kids over.

Your consent will be much awaited... but only till tomorrow morning.

School misManagement,
The RDX International!
Our motto – "Bhadhaaaam & aaaaaaaaah, forever"
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A Typical Unique Person

2010-03-10T00:59:00.003+05:30

My name is Chumbhi Kumdaar, and I live in Delhi. I am unique. I say this because of what I feel and do in Delhi traffic.

Delhi traffic makes me sick. It disgusts me even when I am not in it. I don't want to go anywhere now!

What if there is traffic on the way?

I have become abusive... people don't drive properly... they have no road sense... in fact, they have no sense at all. I hate them.

Here's how I tackle 'em when something goes wrong (read: when they are at fault... I am never wrong you see):

1. Pedestrians - I stare them like I'm the king and they are my slaves. At times, I steer the car toward them. Truly, I dont care if I frighten them. They dont have any right to be on the road. They are just meant to be scared. Damn, now I remember, they don't even pay road taxes.

2. Cyclists - I have a standard one-liner for them, "Saale andhe... yahi marna hai tujhe?" What good is a cyclist's life? Bloody hundreds of them do a tour-de-France from Khanpur to Okhla and keep increasing the level of frustration they cause every day.

3. Motorcyclist

(weaker than me) - "Dhang se chala le" - with full confidence and self-strength belief. These skinny motorcyclists are just too easy to handle. They roam around without helmet, licence, RC, Pollution... and without any respect for red lights. They don't deserve any respect.
(stronger than me... like huge build and broad shoulders) - I just stare. I know it's usual for glitches to happen in heavy traffic. I am a nice person and I don't enjoy staring or figthing others.

4. Carwalla

(weaker than me) - "Abbey o" should do the trick. If the person did not hear me, I could manoeuvre my car in his way... at certain angles... that tell him I am upset with his misdemeanor.
(stronger than me) - A polite stare is what I manage. I wish I could do more.... but, you see, the world needs peace.
(more than two men) - I don't even look at them. They didn't do anything wrong. They are good people.

5. Ladies + any vehicle - "Kyon chalati hai gaadi yeh auratein", is what I think... the typical male that I am. Why are they driving, will someone tell me?

6. Kids - I ask, "Kis bevakoof ne inn ko sadak pe faink diya hai". Ahhh! I don't want anything to do with an accident involving kids who could see but acted blind while checking out the tyres of a car (when they were moving of course).

So, that's my thought process... and that's why I am unique!

Game Over, Name Over

2010-03-04T04:36:00.001+05:30

Baskar-Hai-Tauba (BHT) was the new face of terror. They had 3 executives in all and claimed to be growing strong by the minute. Anyway, the fact that they had big plans made them quite dangerous.

The story began when BHT threatened India about spoiling it's Commonwealth Games to be held in 2010. India beefed up the security but still goofed up.

The whole workforce of BHT (3) somehow managed to enter Delhi. Their plan was to spread terror by killing sportspersons... which would mean that the rest of the world would not find India 'safe' for the games... and the games would get canceled! This would be a tremendous boost for the reputation of BHT.

The targets chosen by BHT were the local sportspersons who had begun practicing a month before the actual event.

Now, BHT chose the 'practice' time over the actual event time for multiple reasons:

a. they did not have a huge manpower to plan big operations.
b. high security was expected at the actual event.
c. and most importantly, it was a known fact that practicing sportspersons seldom got high security... they were easy targets.

So, the day arrived... and the BHT men, loaded with knives and guns and other weapons, entered one of the Commonwealth Stadiums...

BOOM...one killed
BOOM...two killed
BOOM...three killed ...all killed

No security, no nothing, just innocent sportspersons... and still, the whole of BHT was killed! Terminated!

BHT men had entered the arena where sportspersons were practicing 'shooting'.

In Doctor Thoo's View

2010-02-18T17:18:00.004+05:30

Recently, a unique research was conducted by doctor Thoo of China.

According to Thoo, his men had invented a machine that could be strapped around a human's body... after which it gathered a very strange kind of information. The machine ascertained the top two words most spoken by the human in his/her entire life.

Moreover, the results were in the language spoken by the person. Thoo decided to travel around the world and conduct his research on men.

About 24 countries participated in his research. The results were nothing much to talk about. As expected, out of the difference in culture, most men had different 'top 2'. Men from the same country did not throw consistent results; forget about finding matches in other countries. Thoo was not very impressed untill he reached India.

The results obtained on Indian men were amazingly consistent... and led Thoo to view Indian men differently from that point onward.

Here are some of the test results...
o
Australian Men
The Most-Spoken Word: Mate
The Second-Most Spoken Word: Fuck
o
American Men
The Most-Spoken Word: Coffee
The Second-Most Spoken Word: Holy
o
Japanese Men
The Most-Spoken Word: Technology
The Second-Most Spoken Word: Kimono
o
Chinese Men
The Most-Spoken Word: Chowmein
The Second-Most Spoken Word: ideechivaa (yet to be translated)

British Men
The Most-Spoken Word: *$#@&$@
The Second-Most Spoken Word: $#@%%$

(no, that's not profanity... with the heavy accent on display, the machine just could not figure out)
.
.
.
.
.

... and finally

Indian Men
The Most-Spoken Word: Sister (बहेन)
The Second-Most Spoken Word: Mother (मादर)

Doctor Thoo has published his reports in the papers with the headline 'Indian men - family men'. I so wish his machine could report on the words (read: word) spoken immediately after the top two Indian words.

What the Ufffff

2010-02-05T00:02:00.002+05:30

Have you ever analyzed the irritants in your life? Are they big/small/worth it?
o
I did an analysis of the petty things that turn me into a freak. I am wondering if it is ok for me to be pissed at the following:

1. When some unknown person calls and says 'aap kaun bol rahe hai'. Man... Even writing about this is making me angry. Why should I tell him/her 'mai kaun bol raha hoo'? You called, you tell me aap kaun ho... mai kyo bolu? bhaad mei jao!

2. When I have to go back to check whether I locked the car... though I know I would have done it subconsciously in the first go. But, it's so irritating to go back... and always find it locked. This is such a dilemma that I can't even risk not going back thinking the car must be locked.

3. When people say random shitty lines and make them sound like universal statements of truth by adding 'it's all about'. For example: Life is all about caring. Cricket is all about angles. Love is all about respecting... bullshit bullshit bullshit

4. When someone who's met with an accident tells you something like 'I got hit by a...'. Trust me, I have never heard anyone say 'I hit a truck'. Everybody keeps getting hit... only god knows who's been hitting them.

5. When my side-view mirror moves because of contact with some external force. Imagine this - you are a fucking awesome driver who uses all the bloody mirrors available. You are driving to some place alone and suddenly, a cycle wala brushes past the mirror of the non-driver side and the whole angle gets screwed. Now, you cant reach the mirror to adjust it... and you cant drive without it. So disgusting I must say.

6. When you are getting some work done by someone and on asking him/her the cost, the person says 'jo aapko theek lage, utne de do'. Now, there's a situation to be handled. You don't know what is the fair price and you don't want to end up overpaying either. To add, the person is looping the statement and the call is entirely yours.

7. When you were super drunk the previous night, are burping of some food in the morning, and can't make out what exactly did you eat. Haha. I know this one is terrifically weird. But I have had that feeling at times... and have often failed in the what-I-ate-last-night-that's-burping-now test.

So, how justified am I to get irritated by these? Do you relate to my despair?

Liked the post? You might also like Annoying Me, Easily (similar post).

Zehereela Chumban

2010-01-22T15:52:00.006+05:30

Cokeela and Narcotesh were girlfriend boyfriend. Haha. That sounds very funny. But you know what I mean. Nevertheless, their story is not funny.

I take you back to 1998. The two met in college and felt for... oops, I'm sorry... the two met and fell for each other. Those were the days of love, flowers, gifts, CDs—very beautiful, just like the initial days always are. There was so much love between them. Skipping classes and taking them at movie halls was quite usual.

Like any other couple, they had their share of quarrel and banter. But, overall, things were pretty cool... of course, until one day.

That day, Narcotesh was caught smoking weed by the narcotics department of police. They took him into interrogation to find out where he'd got it from. Narcotesh, although revealed the source, was beaten black and blue. That was supposedly his penalty for the weed deed. The police released him soon after.

The wounds and bruises were heavy. Narcotesh got rushed in to a local clinic by his friend Charsam... who also informed Cokeela of the incident. Charsam asked her to come to the BB clinic.

An hour later, at the BB clinic, Cokeela saw her love resting in one of the rooms. There were wounds all over his body. Cokeela decided to stay till the evening while Charsam left for home.

She was so sad to see Narcotesh in the state he was... and managed a tear or two in the process. She could feel his pain. She even replicated a Hindi movie stunt so common in the situation—kissed him on the forehead and other bruised parts of his body... wishing him a speedy recovery.

The next moment there was a thud in the room... Cokeela had collapsed. You guys must be thinking it was the agony that she could not bear... or stuff like that... but that's not true.

Next to Narco's bed could be seen the bottle of medicine that had been applied on his bruised skin. This bottle clearly stated: Poisonous; Do not swallow!!!

That, she did! ...accidentally, while kissing him the Hindi movie style.

Jeeru ki Chaal... Bachcha Behaal [A Pakau Film Story]

2010-01-15T02:43:00.002+05:30

Jeeru belonged to a poor family. They were so poor that he did not even know his surname. I mean, at that time, locating the next meal was more important than surnames and religions. Most of the family members (mom, dad, 4 sons - Jeeru being the youngest) begged at south Delhi traffic signals/temples and so on.

Jeeru's earliest childhood memories were the most significant ones. They take him to the time he was offered a 'Melody' toffee by a couple in a big car. Jeeru noticed the couple even had the 'Eclairs' toffees. He asked them for Eclairs instead of the Melody... only to be shunned away! 'Beggars can't be choosers', is what the guy behind the wheel said to him while rolling up the window in disgust. This hurt Jeeru big time. He ran away from his family in search of a new life. The beggars' population was all set to lose count by 1.

Jeeru quit begging and started selling mundane items. He worked very hard. Balloons, toys, incenses, gajraas, hair clips etc were some of his saleables. Being the intelligent guy he was, jumping jobs soon became a usual activity for him.

Interestingly, by jumping one job to another, Jeeru started gaining momentum in life. He was kind-of on track. He worked hard during the day... and at night cursed the rich in his thoughts. Jeeru claimed that the rich people lacked compassion... and were undeserving b******s!

With some years of work experience in bag, Jeeru joined a big hospital as an assistant nurse (ward boy). The training was basic and Jeeru did well in clearing the test. The salary from the job was good enough for Jeeru to maintain a savings bank account... which he planned to disperse at the time of marriage!

Things were going well and within six months of joining, Jeeru had been shifted to the labor room. His job was to take care of all the equipment that was used in meeting deliverables.... He was enjoying it...

A point to note here is that a ritual had become a part of Jeeru's life—regardless of whatever, Jeeru always used to curse the big-money guys who he used to encounter in the hospital... He used to think of them at night and wonder how artificial they were...
0
It was during the seventh month of the employment at the hospital that Jeeru reunited with his family. One of his brothers had tracked him through some desi word-of-mouth networking. Jeeru was kind of happy to meet them. Apparently, they had opened a pakora shop... and it was the only source of their livelihood. Interestingly, they had a special 'jeera' pakora in memories of their absconding family member.

The marital status of 2 of the brothers was same as Jeeru's; however, the eldest one had gotten married a year before and his wife, Laaji, was expecting.

Jeeru's dad saw the opportunity and asked him for a favor... "son, what if we get Laaji's labor done in your hospital?" Jeeru felt like running away the second time; however, he declined the idea. He later spoke to some senior doctors and they agreed for it—BUT only on the condition that Laaji will stay in one of the cheaper ward rooms post the operation!

On the day of the delivery, there were 3 other deliveries scheduled in that time frame. Jeeru had made sure all equipment was in place. Waiting outside the room, something weird had started cooking in his mind.

"What if I exchange Laaji's kid with the rich man's next door? We will get a fair kid in the family... Laaji will accept whatever is handed to her... The rich family in the next room will learn a lesson. How will they react when they can't choose to have a child of their own color?... beggars cant be choosers!"

Leveraging the power of his association with the hospital, he did! That day, a black baby got delivered to a white family... they were happy.

On this side, Jeeru's brother was sad. Initially, Jeeru thought his brother was doubting his wife for producing a white baby... but the brother soon revealed that his baby had born with a defect... the baby, although extremely fair, was deaf...

Jeeru now hates the rich more than before... while I hope he realizes 'hatred' is never the solution.

My First Invention: The F-Cutter

2009-12-28T00:17:00.003+05:30

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!)

Spot the Assholes

2009-12-02T17:31:00.004+05:30

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.

The Bang Data (BD) & GIJ

2009-11-02T03:15:00.012+05:30

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!
0
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!
-----------------------------------------------------END

The above post was published by TechGoss on their Website. Link: http://www.techgoss.com/Story/2085S14-The-GIJ.aspx

Unlimited Dosti

2009-10-09T10:49:00.004+05:30

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.
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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?
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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.

On Duty

2009-10-04T11:13:00.003+05:30

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.

Button Ka Jeevan

2009-09-13T21:22:00.004+05:30

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.

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PS: I think I am in a 'buttony' mood today. My other blog has got a similar story. Do visit:

http://mitti-ka-sher.blogspot.com/2009/09/le-li-button-ki.html

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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:

http://achyutktelang.blogspot.com/2010/03/best-blog-post-contest.html

Horny Porny

2009-09-01T11:03:00.006+05:30

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 sex-me-up.com. Every afternoon at exactly 3, it would be ooh-aah-oh.com. And every night at 11, it would be raatrimaaya.com.

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!
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PS: That dumbass... why couldn't he bloody delete the history?
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PPS: Our kids are getting into porn big time... let's stop!

Appu Ghar (gaye tum kidhar?)

2009-08-30T01:37:00.015+05:30

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

Annoying Meeee... So Easilyyyy

2009-08-27T12:40:00.005+05:30

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.

Happy to You

2009-08-21T18:03:00.020+05:30

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:

0

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.

Ambulance Turbulence

2009-08-19T20:48:00.004+05:30

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)
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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.
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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.
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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.

Shit!

Muhavre Time

2009-08-15T18:45:00.017+05:30

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.

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

10.

11.

12.

That's it! I hope you enjoyed.

Type KLPD and Send to 55*420

2009-08-11T00:04:00.000+05:30

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.
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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).
o
They start with a normal gk question.
o
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)
o
Type A/B/C and send you response to 50505. The winner will get a free air tickets from Babban Ltd.
o
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.
o
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.
o
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)
o
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.
o
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.
o
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.
o
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.
o
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.

Reporting Earthly Matters

2009-08-07T01:22:00.000+05:30

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.

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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".

o
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".
o
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".
o
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.
o
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!
o
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.
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The Proverbial Quiz

2009-07-31T10:49:00.000+05:30

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.
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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.
kk
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
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8. Level 1

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9. Level 2

10. Level 4

11. Level 2

12. Level 2

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

Screwed Mathematically

2009-07-26T23:35:00.000+05:30

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.

It Won't Take Us Anywhere

2009-07-20T21:48:00.000+05:30

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:

..in 2025:

...in 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.

See Wee

2009-07-17T11:16:00.000+05:30

A lot of times we hear about beggars who make it big just by begging. I think that industry is on a roll. I want to assume that there are people/organizations who run that industry.

Let's say one such organization is Unbathed Limited. This organization is on a hiring spree. The prospective beggars see a good opportunity here.

Now, let's take a look at the cv of one such candidate who's applied at Unbathed:
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Name: Haboo Khutri

Current Designation: Senior Beggar at Rimjhim Chowk

Objective: I am looking for a red light that cares for me, understands my strengths, and gives me opportunities to improve my legerdemain. I want to go deep into the business of red-light area.

Total Experience: 2710 day hours. 1200 night hours.

Skills: Disguising, Becoming handicapped (one arm illusion only), Contorting facial assets, Tearing clothes just at the right places, Targetting the right kind of vehicles and people.

Projects Handled: Here is a brief account of the projects:
a. Jhampu Gali: I handled the entire stretch single-handedly for almost a month. The key tasks involved targetting aunties.
b. Pesha Colony: I acted as a mindless, bodyless person for 3 months.
c. Ghoo block: I carried a dummy 1 year old baby doll and lured people into sympathy for the child.
d. Boku vihar: I sat on the sidewalk during the days and slept at the same spot at nights. That was like an SBB (Spot Booked by Beggar) junction.
e. kaiko sarai: I purely asked... no disguise visguise.
f. Ghanghorpur: I stayed quiet and asked. There was a lot of grease on my face... could not open mouth to ask.

In all the above projects, I earned approximately .95 rupees per signal. This also means that I qualify for the BAI (Beggar Acceptability Index).

Academics: Studied BCOM for graduation. I am an MBA in finance.

Hobbies: In my free time I like to rest. At work, I do my best.
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What say? Will he get the jaab?

Gajjodhar's First Complaint

2009-07-14T10:00:00.000+05:30

How cool we are.

Today, I bring to you the story of a guy, Gajodhar, who spent an hour on orkut immediately after marriage. He had to remain updated you see. People in the world would die if they didn't get to know about his marriage... his marital status.

So, what exactly did he do? Here are the chronicles of the changes that happened in that crucial hour:

a. About Me: Changed from 'I am a fun loving guy, love to be with frands... luv 2 make new frands... I am cool, and that's why I am. Wanna keep in touch, I don't care much.. ya ya, I am the cool dood with attitude'
to
'I am a simple, honest person. I love eating.'

b. Relationship Status: Changed from 'Single - waiting for the right person'
to
'Marrid'

c. Sports: Changed from 'Ah! Anything I can play. As long as I enjoy - wanna challenge me in any game? Warning: Am up for it. Dont camplain when you lose'
to
'Cricket'

d. Passions: Changed from 'Biking, gals, glares, rafting, anything that's supercool, just like mee you see'
to
'I love reading.'

e. Books: Changed from 'Chacha Chowdhury... actually I dont read much'
to
'The monk who sold something'

f. Music: Changed from 'Ooooo, i love moozic...rock n roll... hipp hoppa, jazzy... m a music maniac... give me anything and i can dance... your words are music to ma ears!'
to
'Lucky Ali and Shankar Mahadevan. They are really grate.'

g. TV Shows: Changed from 'Gimme a brake from that saasbahu crap. I love AXN action stuff'
to
'Mahabharat'

h. Cuisines: Changed from 'I have one cousin only'
to
'Chinese'

i. Career Skills: Changed from 'I am smooth talker... can sell you a sold item'
to
'Sales'

j. Ideal Match: Changed from 'Some1 who understands me - loves to be adventurus... caring...lovely... beauti! O Gawd, where are you?'
to
'Neha'

k. First Thing You Will Notice About Me: Changed from 'My attitude - cool dude. I am the lie in the truth, the white in the black... darkness in light... and am out of your sight'
to
'My smile'

l. Turn Offs: Changed from 'Tharkis.... any uncool stuff'
to
'Bad breadth'

m. My Idea of a Perfect First Date: Changed from 'A candle light, hand in hand, right at the beach... followed by wine... and a meal of swine... and after that, :)!'
to
'A movie + lunch'

n. From my Past Relationships i Learned: Changed from 'Shit happens... but thats ok - be a man and move on'
to
'No past relationship.'

o. Five Things I can Live Without: Changed from 'Gals, Bikes, Money, Mobile, Moozic'
to
'Food, water, air, family, friends'
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Post this, Gajjodhar greets his bride good morning.... and complains about her Orkut profile being too jazzy and college-like... inaugurating the married life!
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Crack

2009-03-04T02:32:00.002+05:30

Thanks... for being crazy enuf!

I

2009-03-01T23:12:00.133+05:30

Kshitij Khurana... born in 1983... 12th November... scorpio!

And the pic is an old one... I am much fatter now!

This blog was born in July'09. It's meant to entertain till the time I don't understand my fix.

I love cricket. Test? T20? ODI? One-tip-one-hand? Bring anything and I will watch ball-by-ball. Be it India, Australia, Bhutan, Burma, Rampur, Raheja Colony...

Anyone who discusses cricket matches with me is my best friend. Oh, I should mention... these guys can take me for granted all their life... or lives (am unsure) - Yuvraj Singh, Mitchel Johnson, Sachin Tendulkar, Ricky Ponting, Shane Warne, Brett Lee and Viru Sehwag. These are the 'fixed' favorites. I even have a position for 'floating' favorite. Currently, it is set to Sean Marsh... and was previously held by Greame Swann.

Next hobby... I create word documents for every fu##### thing. I don't know what's wrong with me... but I thoroughly enjoy doing it.

Additionally, I enjoy sudoku and other puzzles... anything that challenges the mind. Am in love with computer games. I like to talk... experiment... try new things... confuse people... joke around... preach what I never follow... crib and when the other person joins me, get him/her out of that cribbing... and so on.

I love to help people...

I put ellipses (...) in my write-ups.

I am a hardcore extremist. I do not believe in in-betweens. It's like all or nothing.

I am extremely inconsistent on my thought process. What comes out of my mouth is not what my brain has been conditioned to... but what I feel on that minute and at that hour.

I'd like to get superpowers... there's enough that needs to happen in my country. Oh my... did I mention? I love my country.