Don't Care

That Christmas eve, nine years old, 

Thousands were killed; they weren't even told.

And today...

A massive earthquake has jolted the earth,
And massive waves have been given a birth,

The coastal areas have been sounded a warning,
They should expect a Tsunami by tomorrow morning,

Yes! Tsunami! The killer waves,
And when they strike, only God saves,

Well, the giant waves are expected soon,
God knows what this place looks like, tomorrow noon,

It's sunset time, and the coast is empty,
The people are gone, in heaps and plenty,

But... Hey! Wait a minute!

Some people are walking toward the beach,
All warnings and dangers, they intend to breach,

They must go back, it's not at all safe now,
Against the nature's might, they must learn to bow,

I shout at them, 'are you all mad?'

Go away right now, or the consequences will be sad,

An elder from the group, shouts back at me,

'Son! This is exactly where we want to be,'

'This may be the last sunset, this beach gets to see,'

'And now that we are here, so do we...'

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This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 30. The title for the edition was the image. The post fetched me 4 votes (many more than I expected). To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

Positions on Bed

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That Last Night

Hello! My name is Mister Teeju,

And my age is fifty plus two,

Happy life I have... says who?

Let me tell you what is true,

My wife’s name is Miss Tippani,

Pretty woman, soft voice, said many,

She’s a lovely housewife, unlike any,

Even though we don’t have enough money,

But the problem… is not really her,

Instead… it’s our damn daughter,

Daughter’s name is Girja,

She is like a lady ninja,

She is 24 years old,

Rude, and very very cold,

Since we survived under financial restriction,

Between us there was a lot of friction,

…

Ok! So, what happened that last night?

Well, Girja and I had another fight,

And, as usual, I was always right,

But she kept shouting at me inspite,

We had gone together to drop her mom to a train station,

On the way back, Girja asked money for makeup and foundation,

What the hell, I thought… and I said no, in frustration,

She yelled at me; it felt like attending my own cremation,

I shouted back at her, “You rude girl,”

“Just for money, such abuses you hurl?”

“I will not give you anything till you behave,”

“I am your father, and some respect I crave,”

Girja said, "Ha ha ha ha, you a father?”

"You are a miser, live without you I rather"

I got shocked… and shouted, "Okay, I will die",

And she laughed again, seeing me almost cry,

We reached home, and I decided something I had to try,

So, I reached for the rope, it was time to tie,

I decided to commit suicide by hanging myself from the fan,

Not serious, all drama, that's the best I can,

To make Girja realize that she needs to respect the old man,

I came up with a farcical suiciding plan,

I thought… seeing me trying to hang myself, she will hate,

And just when I’m about to, she will shout, “Hey, wait”,

So, I made all arrangements, the fan, the stool, and the rope,

I had to act well, well enough to look someone without any hope,

And when I was ready, I shouted her name,

I knew that now on, things won't be the same,

She entered my room with her usual attitude,

And saw me standing at some altitude,

A rope around my neck, my escape from the feud,

Her expressions changed, she no more looked rude,

She shouted “WAITTTTT”, looked like she really meant,

And trying to look serious, a listening ear I lent,

On my table were a pen and a notepad, toward them she went,

And asked me loudly, “What's the number for our insurance agent?”

I could not control myself; this was not at all fun,

And I shouted… 9-8-7-3-2, five triple one,

She did not write anything, threw the pen and the notepad,

And I thought she finally realized the worth of her dad,

Then, she rushed toward me like an emotional fool,

But when she reached… she kicked the stool.

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This post had been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 26; the 26th Edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. The topic for the month was 'That Last Night'.

There were 27 entries...
...and with 6 votes, I ranked second in the competition. :)

Beta, Jai Kar Ke Dikha

Does the title ring any bells?

Have you ever imagined how torturous it must be for our kids? Okay, do one thing. Pause for a moment and think of a child (6 months - 2 years) you have seen. Of course, it could be your child as well.

Do you remember the child performing different 'acts' for you on the orders of his/her parents? Or, did you teach your infants crazy little things that serve no useful purpose but to show off how bright they are... or how entertaining they can get?

I mean what the heck.

Consider these:

• बेटा, जय कर के दिखा
• बता दे किसका बेटा है? 
• बता दे Doggy कैसे भौंकता है
• Fan कहाँ है?
• खासी कर के दिखा  
• पिट्टी कर के दिखा  
• बेटा नमस्ते कर दे एक बार 
• Nosy nosy कहाँ है?

...and so on!

I mean... what is all this? Even if you have taught the poor little infants some wacko stuff that includes barking like a dog, why would you want the kid to perform in front of strangers? Because it gets extremely entertaining to look at them doing all that stuff? But what about them?

Do you ever wonder how retarded these kids look doing stuff like that? I know they look cute... but the acts are retarded mostly.

The other day I heard someone ordering the child... beta, aaai-koj karke dikha... And I wondered what it meant till the child showed the demo of 'eyes-close'. Oh! Wonderful. The poor little kid will now feel embarrassed in nursery when the teacher will ask him to close the eyes... and the kid wouldn't know what that means. He only knows how to koj the aaai.

And do you wonder what they must be going through repeating the same old stupid acts infinite number of times day in and day out?

It must be hard for them.

Well, I know that is probably how the learning process begins for them... but please. At least, make them do some sensible stuff. Make them solve some Maths problems. Probably I was made to do that... and that's why I am writing like a retaaaaard.

Wyn Will I learn?

I want to give you an account of something that happened day before yesterday. I was supposed to leave for Bangalore for an official visit.

Too early to digress, but I need to tell you something about myself here. There's a thing I do, and I don't know what to call a person who does it.

Well, I try to save money everyPOSSIBLEwhere... only to be able to spend in heaps wherever I want. So, for example, if I were just hanging out, extremely thirsty... I would NOT buy a bottle of water... and prefer to stay thirsty till I get home. At the same time, I could spend lots and lots on food.

Back to my Bangalore trip. After having thought of numerous possibilities of reaching the airport at low costs, I realized that nothing but a cab would work. Duh... as if it was some rocket science.

Well, the most popular cabs in Delhi are Meru Cabs and Easy Cabs. Both very professional I think. And both charge rupees 20 a kilometer in addition to some 40 or 50 bucks as convenience charge. Well, that's a lot! So, I, being myself, started searching for a cab service that would charge lesser than that.

After some consideration, I finalized on calling Wyn cabs. They charge 15 a kilometer and don't take any convenience charge. Alright, sounds good till here. The cab was booked for 1:45 p.m. The calculation was simple - I start from home at 1:45, reach airport by 2:45, check in maximum by 3:15, and wait for about an hour for my 4:20 flight! The checkin gates were scheduled to close around 3:35... so the plan was okay, I thought!

When the time was 1:45, I had my wife call Wyn cabs... only to realize that a new driver had been assigned to me. They gave us the number for the driver. When I called him, he said he'd reach in 10 minutes. Okay! There goes for a toss some part of the buffer in my plan. Anyways, it turned out that the 10 minutes were 'Indian' 10 minutes, and the driver took 25. I got a bit nervous but thought we'll make up for the lost time by driving a bit fast.

So, we started at 2:15, about an hour and 20 minutes from the checkin closing time.

Phew!

The driver looked friendly... until the time he started driving at 60-70km/hr... on a combination of second and third gear! Can you believe it? For those who drive, you know what I'm saying, right?

To add to the situation, he started driving like a crazy lunatic mad weirdo! He was doing a bit of zigzag in decent traffic... where it wasn't quite possible. And to add, on a road without the divider, he was over and over again going into the lane meant for the oncoming traffic. At one point of time, I started holding on really tight to whatever was available. He was actually driving like a crazy man. Now you may say I could have stopped him... but there probably was a part of me that was having cheap thrills simultaneously.

He continued his ways for another minute... and then banged into a car. B-A-N-thud-G-E-D. A Swift was at the receiving end.

wtf!

I was so late for the airport, and my supposedly professional taxi driver banged the car into another. I knew that was it! I'd not be able to catch the flight. All sorts of combinations of next available flight and justifiable excuses started doing rounds in my head. Just then I realized this psycho was doing a hit-and-run. He started driving away from the crime scene... and I got him to stop immediately. I asked him not to run. The last thing I wanted was the Swift guys to chase us... and then beat the hell out of us.

The crazy wacko looked at me, smiled, and got out of the car. Amazingly, nothing had happened to the Swift. Moreover, the owner didn't even seem interested in making a scene.

So, this guy came back! Yes, the psycho came back. He said the bumper of our car had been cracked, smiled, and started driving again.

And guess what... he started his psychodriving again.

It was the second time in last five minutes that I asked him to stop. He did. I said "let me drive... you don't know how to drive". To which he said... "sure".

And we exchanged places! We did! This is fact, okay... trust me.

So, now, I was driving him to the airport... only to step out of the car and pay him in the end. All I thought was... "heck! I just want to catch the flight".

So, I started driving... through the traffic of Delhi... with a huge Wyn cab sticker on the car. And, you know what this guy did during the journey? Here's him, the psycho!

..

..

.p.

.s..

.y.

.c.

.h.

.o.

.p.

.s..

.y.

.c.

.h.

.o.

..

..

Hell, man! He slept through it. I swear he looked liked the first person extremely deserving to be killed.

I was getting pretty tensed because I was getting late... the traffic was heavy... and I had to drive this shitty cab. And the fact that this guy was sleeping didn't help either.

Anyways, having entered the airport premises, about two minutes away from the departure terminal, I stopped the car. I told him that there would be police ahead and if I'm caught driving a commercial vehicle with a non-commercial license, there would be trouble. To this, he yawned... and said something to the effect of "it's just two minutes... you only drive". @%#%#^$@!

I didn't want to get into any sort of tiff with anyone irrespective of the frustration that had crept for the last one hour... so I again asked him to drive, very politely. He obeyed. We reached airport about 10 minutes before the checkin closed.

I rushed out... got a trolley for the luggage... and asked him how much it was. I had done the mental calculations already - the meter showed 27 kms... which is 405 rupees (15/km). He looked at me cutely and said rupees 420. While placing the luggage on the trolley, I said it should be rupees 405 and not 420. He said "thoda hi upar maanga hai". And I gave him the amount.

So - let's summarize - I drove all the way. I placed the luggage on the trolley. And I even tipped him 15 bucks.

Who's the psycho, now?

While leaving, he looked at me and said he could wait for me just in case I missed my flight. I didn't respond... and neither did I miss the flight.

Meru/Easycabs would have cost me around 650 bucks... this one cost 420. Worth it?

Total Atyachaar

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

I have a problem.

I watch a lot of movies in theaters. But that is of course not the problem.

The problem is - I don’t know what face to put while coming out of the movie hall. I have tabulated my 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, I come out of the hall looking like a stupid. 

And that’s my problem.

Sallu ke Ullu

Salman Khan,

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

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

Let’s see – Wanted, Dabangg, Ready, Bodyguard… and coming up are 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, at least? Were you able to sit through? Did you feel like renaming it to torture?

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

 vs

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

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

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

Why?

After all, you have been able to gather a huge fan base that calls 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 devoid of any sense and logic.

 

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

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

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

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

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

Anyways, let’s not talk about Saifu Bhai for now. I’m sure he’s already pissed with you and Aamir. You guys took his girl and made your big sellers – Bodyguard and 3 Idiots... whereas, he doesn’t get any opportunities… 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 the difference? Because of the fans. So, don’t you think you should give something more meaningful to these fans?

Your movie Dabangg won the best film award in Filmfare last year. 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 personal opinion. Anyways.

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

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

Yours,

The Spot Next to Me

Aerobics… a girl thing! Oh really?

In my gym… rather in the gym I go to, a small section had been 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 call them… and a guy… who did aerobics there. Actually, let’s just call them girls because the guy used to be me. ‘Me and girls’ sounds cooler.

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

While they flexed their biceps and other muscles I didn’t know existed, I’d be dancing around doing salsa-like moves partnering my obesity.

Needless to say, Indian men that they were, most of them looked at me in ‘what’s-wrong-with-this-fatso’ kinds of stares. They looked at me 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 was completely normal—for a fat guy to jump around like that… matching steps with beats 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 on outside the aerobic group… but inside. I want to talk about something that happened between me and the girls. Do I hear you saying ‘wow’ already?

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

Sounds cool till now.

Now, I used to reach gym at 7 and do my warm-ups… while the girls 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 even started killing the curious cat in me. Consider my query now – ‘why the hell were the girls hell bent on getting the single possible spot next to me?’

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

Why god, why?

Not that it helped me with anything… our exercises did not involve physical contact with partners. But it made me curious. I even compared the whole thing with the solar system one day. The big sun being static and planets moving around it… but it didn’t actually compare. That’s because no one moving around me. I was just the Pluto 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 to me? 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… so there was no way of confirming what exactly it was about.

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

1.      I smelled good… this was very likely because Nike had obviously 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 to me. 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 the second. 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. And this male kept saying cute little things in my ears. I smiled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dear Indian Cricket Team

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.