Randomness magnified

Ten types of people I want to throw paper clips at. And I love paper clips.

2011-10-11T02:44:00.000-07:00

1. Girls who hang their chaddis and round things on their windows. Lajawanti Lingerie Collection . 20% off. Kindly ignore the crow using hanging round things for ‘shady’ purposes.

2. Khatmal (bed bugs) bikers riding on the pavement. They will ghusao their vehicles ANYWHERE they can, at every chance they get.

3. Slow staff members at checkout counters EVERYWHERE. The only thing slower than these people is a snail walking on glue.

4. Vehicle Owning Mental People who will not drive in the left lane, will not drive in the right lane and will not be in the centre also. WHAT THE PHOCK IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?

5. People who change their Facebook Profile Display Picture EVERYDAY. What no kaamdhandha you got or what?

6. Hypocrite bandariyaas. Yes, I am referring to the girl who says she hates a ‘friend’ more than she hates dandruff, then she goes and compliments hated friend on her new haircut. WHAT IS THAT? (Men are not like that. The men who are like that, are bandariyaas)

7. People who go touring and then pose in front of every landscape and monument and other awesome buildings/statues. Just. Stop. Ruining. The. Picture.

8. People who walk with their tiny children on the vehicle side of a road. And also people who sit in the front seat of a car, with a child in their lap. When you were busy in the act of reproduction, did you get brainwashed or something?

9. People who think pets are accessories – ‘something to decorate our doorstep’. Your kind disgusts me more than the sight of loose motions floating in the potty

10. People who are rude for no reason because they think it's cool. It’s not. It just means that you are constantly constipated and are venting out the frustration through your mouths.

Now give my paper clips back.

Love Letter to Bangalore Rickshaw Man

2011-09-26T10:10:00.000-07:00

Dear Bangalore Rickshaw Man,

I will get straight into the point.

I have been living in Bangalore for barely a year and a half. Enough material to write a love letter to you.

Every time I ask you to go somewhere, you say NO to me. Every time. I wait so much for you to make my day with your beautiful appearance. Then also why do you hate me so much? I thought first that you hated me because I do not know Kannada/Malyalam/Tamil/Telugu and that my Hindi is worse than your Hindi. But even after I joined classes for ‘How to speak Hindi like a True Blooded South Indian’, you still ignore me? Why?

And when you do decide to come, after much coaxing and endless waiting in sun, rain and other kinds of unpredictable Bangalore weather, you tell me that you will not charge me as per the meter. Why? Why must you torture me like this with all your nakhras? My father did not put that meter in your rickshaw no? If he did, I would tell him to remove it and use it to scratch your back. But the Government put that meter in your rickshaw, so you must show respect and use it no? If you don’t like Indian Government, then why do you remove all your hate on me? I sit nicely and listen to your South Indian music. Then also you will not charge me with the meter. If you won’t scratch your own back with the meter you do not use, at least scratch mine. That also you won’t do. After all the love I shower on you, this is what I get.

And to top it all, why you rob your own beloved of so much money? If the fare is 17 rupees, you will not return 3 rupees if I give you 20 rupees. What is that? I own one bike, but my husband works very hard so he cannot get up in the morning to drop me to class. So in pity I come to you, you silly rickshaw man. That way morning morning, I get to see your lovely face also. But how you repay me? You charge me insane amounts of money to take me from home to my guitar class and back! And both times, you charge different. When I am going to the class you take 50 rupees. When I am coming home you take 70 rupees. What is this double timing you are doing with me? My father’s fault or what, that the roads are bad? My father doesn't own anything but one tiny house in Malad in Bombay. If he owned the road, then both of us would go cavorting in Bangalore Volvo AC bus to airport and back no? But he doesn't own the road with so many holes. Then why you take out all road anger on me and make me pay so much?

And if it rains, instead of getting all romantic and Tollywood song-singing-types, you unleash ‘Rate Card from Hell’ on me. For 1km travel, you will charge me 40 rupees. And if I am carrying one onion in my hand, you will charge me 60 rupees. Why you hate onions and rain so much? I was going to make kanda bhajiyas for you and make some tea by collecting water from the leaking roof of your rickshaw. So much I love your rickshaw and its nature-friendly ways. And yet, you want to make me poorer? And what happens to you in the night time? The bhootiya (bhoot + ch**iya) enters your body or what? Why you charge me some three times the original fare? Night time people get all romantic and all you can think of is money? Why silly man why?

Now after all this also, I still persist to show you how much love I have for you. After you have vehemently refused to acknowledge my shadow also, you rudely tell me hop in. I hop in, you go 3kms, then stop in the middle of nowhere and tell me to get down and walk the rest of the 10kms. What is this new nautanki you have started? If you want to leave me, just say so, I will go okay. But don’t tell me to leave after I am all comfortable and about to sleep to the sweet hum of the roaring South Indian music. And if you think that this is your way of telling me to exercise because I am fat, then I am seriously very hurt. After all I lost so much weight just trying to stop you. If you had so much as looked in my direction, you would have seen how much weight I had lost. And looking in rear-view mirror that shows amazing angles of my chest does not count. Thankfully, I have not lost any weight there ok. That much you know very well na, you silly rickshaw man.

But you won’t leave me, you will roam around me and ignore me like I am a dirty big fart from an elephant. And you bring your friends also to join you in this ignoring parade. Why you make fun of me, I do not get. And yet, I do not disown you, even though I know that any ride in the lap of luxury that is your rickshaw could be the last day of my life. I risk life, limb and guitar every time I hitch a ride with you. The loving curves that your vehicle take has drastically changed the positioning of my internal organs. My childhood dream of reaching out to moving buses from a moving rickshaw is realised every single time, sometimes so closely that someone from the window of the bus can reach out and spit some conditioner onto my head if they are inclined to.

So much I suffer for your love. One ride is too much to ask perhaps, so one look also will do.

But at least, oh silly rickshaw man, show me some lovin’.

Yours truly,

Disgruntled Loveless Passenger

Dear People Who Hate Cities and Communities and Countries

2011-09-14T06:05:00.000-07:00

This 'open letter' is a response to all those who hate people because they belong to a certain city or community or whatever.

You are not being cool when you start writing hate write-ups and posts about North Indians or South Indians or East Indians or West Indians or whoever. Whoever you hate, keep the hate to yourself. We do not want another Raj Thackeray in the making.

And if you cannot keep the hate to yourself, kindly leave this planet and get the phock out of our businesses and Twitters and Facebooks. You can go there and start hating Indians for all I care but at least you are not doing it here, on Indian soil, spreading hate around by being such a dork at generalising, thus starting fights among communities.

And understand this: You do bad things because you are a bad human being. That’s about it.

If you cannot comprehend this simple logic, then please do not marry and procreate because we do not need more of your kind on this planet.

Good luck to you. Not.

Sincerely,

Fellow Human Being

Six reasons why Ajmal Kasab is still alive.

2011-09-05T05:11:00.000-07:00

So much has happened in our country since November 26, 2008. Some good things, like India winning the World Cup and the Lokpal Bill getting a go-ahead.

And some bad things, like Ajmal Kasab being all alive and kicking, enjoying regular bouts of chicken biryani in jail.

Biryani that we paid for. Eaten by a terrorist who attacked us.

Now I feel truly sorry for all the media-persons who risked life and limb to get a good video or photograph of the criminals who went on an unleash-maximum-terror rampage in the city of Bombay. The police officials and army personnel did a commendable job of killing the terrorists and also managed to capture one alive, some of them having died in the process. One would have thought that these photos/videos would serve as incriminating evidence against that gun yielding coward.

Alas, it was not meant to be so.

Three years later, he is still alive.

It took our Government roughly two years to sort out the court cases, to ‘prove beyond any reasonable doubt’ that yes indeed, Ajmal Kasab is nothing but a cold-blooded murderer and should be punished for his crimes. Now even after the Supreme Court has ‘okayed’ the execution of Ajmal Kasab, pray, why is he still alive?

This is not a lovelorn man, pelting stones at the window of a now-married-to-another-man-girlfriend. This is a vicious and twisted murderer, who came in like the breeze, went berserk with his rifle, and shot anyone who came in the line of fire. He and his troop arrived with a pure intent to kill and destroy. Meticulous effort has been invested in him and his team to churn out the results that they did. Their bosses had been planning this for months, and may have also hosted ‘triumphant parties’ when they saw the aftermath of their doings.

So am wondering, what possible logic could explain why Ajmal Kasab is still thriving, and thriving well at that?

Here’s what I think could be some of the reasons:

If Ajmal’s security bills cost the nation 10 crore rupees (yes, go ahead and pick your jaw from the floor), imagine the gargantuan amount of monies the Government has to shell out to hang him (shudder). So the Government has decided to leave him be.
If we keep him alive, his terrorist brethren may attempt to rescue him, and maybe (just may...be) we can nab the other terrorists and lock them up as well
We want to send out a direct message to terrorists that if you turn yourselves in, you will get better food (“The chicken biryani is awesome guys, trust me”, Kasab was quoted as saying), triple the security and possibly get an Internet connection too, so that you can update your Facebook regularly. Show your bosses how we do it here baybee!
Maybe the parliament is planning to rope in Kasab as its brand ambassador. He has one of the most recognised names in our country; hence it is obvious that wherever he goes, the media will follow. And publicity will filter in rapidly. After all, any publicity is good publicity. In addition, he could be employed as a peacemaker. Imagine this; instead of throwing shoes and chairs at each other; they could employ Kasab who would throw bombs at everyone. Arguments would get settled faster this way.
Our Government has a heart that is overflowing with the milk of human kindness. It doesn’t do anything that would even remotely contradict the peace and calm of the well-balanced society that we live in. Moreover, it wants to set an example to the likes of USA and Russia that violence begets violence. (Please do ignore the July 14 2011 blasts. And while you’re at it, do blatantly ignore the daily blasts in Kashmir as well)
Entertainment Purposes of Indian Audience for Make Benefit Funny Nation of India. Simple macha! We have stopped watching soap operas, now that our news channels provide more entertainment than non-news channels. However, when they do provide us with some news, we get to read some sensational articles such as the following:

How Kasab went bananas during Ramzan

How Kasab could possibly opt for a ten-year insurance plan, since the case would not go anywhere for another ten years

How the miscreants responsible for the July 14, 2011 Bombay blasts wished Kasab a very Happy Birthday

Or how Kasab could possibly delay our infrastructure from getting any better

Now if this isn’t entertainment, then what the phock is?

So, if you are (still) reading this, let me tell you that I have written this article with one goal in mind. To get you a little more angry. To tell you that please, do not sit down and be okay with our Government protecting the man who killed our brethren and treat him like some royalty. Be involved a little more, for this affects you directly. The terrorists are watching us. They see how we are a little shy of laying down the red carpet for them.

If we don’t want to do anything with this, then the next time there is a bomb blast, please do not blame the Government. Because it thinks you are okay and you can ‘move on’.

It’s so many of us against them. If we raise the issue and the Government helps us, we can definitely make a difference.

Because the question is not really what is the Government doing about this. The question that we really should be asking, is this – do all of us, including the Government, care enough to try to do something about this.

What happens when bomb blasts strike any city in India

2011-08-30T03:35:00.000-07:00

It’s been, what, a month, since Bombay was targeted again with bombs.
Bombay (Special note to Shiv Sena: I have used the taboo word ‘Bombay’. Boo) being targeted time and again is not much of a surprise, since, well, it’s a city that is used to these kind of ‘interruptions in the daily routine’ every now and then.

Anyhow, Ajmal Kasab, the sole ‘survivor’ from the blood battle that occurred on November 26, 2008, is still alive. And so are his best friends, who came by, planted the bombs on July 14, 2011, and possibly participated in the anti-corruption morchas in support of the Jan Lokpal Bill as well. So, well, bomb blasts mean nothing much to anyone in this country, expect of course, to those who are affected directly by it.

Hence, while some of the terrorists get arrested and enjoy chicken biryani in jail while some others plot and plan about the next plan to unleash hell, here’s what happens in the rest of country on the day of the blast, and the day after the blast:

Media reports about the blasts
People get panicky and start contacting family and friends to check if they are okay
Some intelligent people post FB/Twitter updates about offering any help to ferry people from office to home or offer information about the nearest hospitals, blood banks, the like
Most of us express sorrow for those affected in the blasts on the various social networking platforms
And most of us also condemn the blasts, the terrorists and the apathetic Indian Government

On the third day after the blasts, this is what happens:

The anger and furore displayed by the general public on social networking sites die down
People are now back to their routine lives, boldly facing whatever obstacle comes their way—bombs included—and are proud to display the ‘Bombay Spirit’

A month after the blasts: Hardly any one even remembers that on this day, last month, a bomb blast tore apart a section of their city.

Now don’t get me wrong; there are some people out there, trying to portray how ‘concerned’ our ‘system’ is about the terrorist situation. What irks me is that the very ‘system’ that is supposed to protect us, is trying to shut them up, for reasons that defy logic.

And when the ‘system’ is not arresting people who uncover the truth, they are acting ridiculously stupid, by issuing a ‘statement condemning the blasts’ from a Microsoft Corp Hotmail address.

And then, there are some of us who, merely two days after the blast, return to the movie halls to catch the latest release.

Quote from a TOI article: Said movie buff Harsh Thairani, "Blasts have now become routine with us Mumbaikars. Life moves on. Besides, I think the period after the blasts is the safest. The police are on alert; nothing untoward is going to happen."

I am trying really hard to not take pot-shots at anyone. Really trying. But it is becoming increasingly difficult for me to ignore the unrealism of the situation.

So here’s my conclusion.

Nothing really affects us until it happens to us
We are completely willing to let dirt be thrown into our eyes and believe that going back to our routine lives is the same as ‘moving on’
And when we get into power and actually do manage to catch a criminal who bomb blasts the shit out of our cities, we waste huge amounts of money just to provide food, clothing, shelter AND protection for him
And the rest of us complain about it, on Facebook, Twitter, Google+ or blogs (like this one)

PS: If you going to write a self-righteous comment, please, don’t even bother.

Five things that every client wants

2011-04-25T02:35:00.000-07:00

Anyone with a brain has, at some time in his or her life, stopped to think, “Why Am I Here?” or “What is My Purpose In Life?”

I haven’t arrived at those moments yet. Perhaps it could be so, because I do not have a brain. But that is a story for another day.

However, the even more baffling question that has plagued me and the rest of the world is this – What The Hell Do Clients Want?

What? WHAT????

After much deliberation, I have come up with a few plausible discoveries that could perhaps, in a trivial way, satisfactorily answer this question. Hence, according to me, these are few of the simple requirements they seek, and the origin of these humble requests:

When the dinosaur was born and man saw the dinosaur, he was impressed with the beast’s size. That impression stayed on his mind, just like the tail bone stayed in the ass. This is the reason why clients demand everything DINOSAUR SIZE – Dinosaur Size Logos, Dinosaur Size Fonts, Dinosaur Size Images etc.
When some people dope and get high, they claim to see shades of new colours, the kind they have never seen before. Clients demand THOSE EXACT KIND OF SHADES in their web pages/ ads. They want the target audience to get an awesome high every time they see the website / ad; perhaps even lose consciousness once in a while out of sheer amazement. Now you know why most people look doped half the time!
Most clients are ancestors of Karan Johar. Why, you ask? Well, because for the client, it’s all about loving your parents / family. So when they get some work from you, they want the opinion of every Tom, Dick and Harry they know since the day they were born, and they make sure that no one is left out. After all, sharing is caring.
Most of the clients started working the day they were born. As such, they never really had the chance to play indoors, much less outdoors. During school hours, they would moronically stare at the slide in the playground, wondering about its amazing technology, but never really having the time to actually partake in its fun. Now you know why they will not accept less than 80 slides in every Microsoft Office PowerPoint Presentation.
“No man is an island.” Someone in the corporate world took this proverb quite literally and decided that if anything that needs to be done, should be done together. Hence clients love meetings; it doesn’t matter that everyone likes to think that they are lazing on ‘an island’, lulled to sleep by the soothing monotone of the informative presentation / topic; as long we have a meeting room and there are people are in it, the world will survive!

Now that you know what clients want, you can stay rest assured that your clients will be very happy with you as long as you ensure that all your work is produced in Dinosaur Sizes, sports a mess of many colours, where every feature is elaborated upon in a PowerPoint Slide, which is presented in a lengthy meeting.

Now for those of you who love mathematics or just like feeling intelligent by seeing mathematical calculations, here’s a disturbing question:

Clients = Do not know what they want
Female = Doesn’t know what she wants
Hence Female = Client
Hence Female Client =?

Well, I am a woman. How am I supposed to know? :P

The best to NOT happen to mankind: Human Resources

2011-01-11T10:30:00.000-08:00

The job of a coal miner. So dangerous. Exhausting. Risk driven. Fatal even.

Obviously an HR person doesn’t think so.

Welcome to undeniably the most feared department of any organisation – The Human Resources Team. If ‘you’* do not tread carefully here, you will be minced into tiny shreds of unrecognisable flesh. *Here, ‘you’ is the gullible employee.

Anyone worth his coffee has wondered, mostly on a daily basis, about the purpose of an HR department. The upper management on the other hand, of course, sips into premium blends of varied concoctions (very expensive water), hires an HR Team and never wonders about its whereabouts again (Unless they want to do something evil, in which case they call everyone for a meeting, which, in my opinion, is the third most evil weapon ever devised by mankind).

I really don’t need to dwell into how notoriously diligent an HR person is. What I would rather do is list down the occurrences that you will NEVER find in a HR department.

1. An HR person doing work
Remember how you had requested for your appraisal confirmation papers many many many years ago? And remember how you got married, gave birth to fifteen children, got them married off too, and yet, your appraisal papers have never graced your eyesight?

2. An HR person caring about you
Remember how the HR person told you that he is very sorry that you are not being recognised for your proactive efforts and commendable performance? Well you don’t remember any such thing, simply because it never happened.

3. An HR person ensuring that you get a good promotion
Remember how you got promoted? Yes, a good memory can be a bad thing.

4. An HR person who really doesn’t care about timesheets
I really don’t know how many hours have been clocked in which section and why. Which is why I opine that timesheets are the second most evil weapon to be invented by mankind. Of course we all lie about the hours, because no sane person can keep track. Unless he is an HR person. In which case, the following happens:

You: “Gee, I was working so hard, I just couldn’t keep track of the time.”

HR: “This is a clear evidence of laxity in time management and disability to remember under pressure.”

You: “What? It’s a trivial timesheet!”

HR: “Subject also shows signs of disrespect to uninformative excel sheets.”

You: *FML.*

5. An HR person not paying attention to trivial matters such as dress code
So you wore a bright orange tent-like shirt coupled with latex green coloured pants. Now here, sane people chose to ignore you as much as they can. An HR person, on the other hand, braves the possibility of losing eyesight owing to the bright glare from your attire. He instead goes a step further, calls you for a one-on-one meeting* and mentions exactly why your superior calibre and awe-inspiring leadership skills can totally be ignored in a performance review due to the colourful mess that you have adorned on your being.

*One-on-one meeting in a room alone with HR person solely doing the talking tops the list in the ultimate torture to be unleashed on the unsuspecting.

6. An HR person not ignoring your mails
You receive mails about every unrelated-to-you news in the world such as the following:

Happy birthday to our new joinee, Mumbo Jumbo.
Mumbo Jumbo completes 3 days
Mumbo Jumbo got married
Mumbo Jumbo now has quadruplets
Mumbo Jumbo grew new hair on his ears

Ok, so maybe I went overboard there. But remember how you sent a million mails to the HR department about an XYZ issue, which magically did a Matrix-like stunt in avoiding their attention? And yet, you regularly receive updates about Mumbo Jumbo and his experiences at office and random things growing out of his earlobes.

In my entire life (till date), I am yet to come across an HR person who actually does what he is recruited to do: make life simpler for the employees. Not that I can boast of having come across many HR people, as I try all means to avoid any form of contact with anyone who works in this department. As it turns out, that would be a futile attempt for me, as the HR department excels in avoidance therapy as and when it suits them.

And this very avoidance therapy is what I am hoping will save my life if any HR person happens to read this post :P

People we could do without in the New Year

2010-12-28T04:55:00.000-08:00

The New Year is approaching and everyone is preparing their lists of resolutions, which they plan to forget exactly two seconds before the clock strikes 12 am on 31st December.

I, on the other hand, am making a list of the people who excel in the art of ‘infuriating someone to the end of his tether’. Also known as ‘royally pissing off’ in fanciless English. These are the people whom I imagine running my car over - twice in reverse gear, for added effect. The good thing here is that I do not know how to drive. Thus, maximum damage is guaranteed.

Bikers riding on the sidewalk

Sidewalks were built to provide additional safety to bikers who are scared of riding on the main road. What about us pedestrians you ask? Monkeys are our ancestors for a reason. We can simply climb from tree to tree.

But wait. The sidewalk is where a tree was used to be.

See now why bikers are number one on this list?

Jaywalkers looking at the opposite side when crossing the road

Surely there must one idiotic, errant driver who opined that it must be fun driving from the opposite end of a one-way road. Must look out for these people!

So what if the vehicles are coming toward him from the other end? The empty end is all that matters.

Attention seekers

Attention seeker educating himself / herself: "The world revolves around you. Your world also revolves around you. The solar system is going 360 degrees on your axis. Any rotation happening in the universe is around you."

If the world exploded into bits, it’s because an attention seeker somewhere in the world broke a toenail. Trust me, the horror of this is unimaginable.

Everything that is, is because of an attention seeker. Don’t believe me? Look how in some remote, unrelated way, the likes of attention seekers influenced the likes of me to write the crap that is the post.

Double faced people

It is kind of forgivable to find out that Sonia is actually Sunil. Hurts a lot to know that the girl you have always loved for 15 straight years and wanted to have babies with, is actually a boy and a closet cross-dresser. Hurts real bad, but forgivable.

What is not forgivable is being downright cunning and kind at the same time. Now this combination is freakishly scary.

Example

Two-face: You have such a bad cold. Here, wear my sweater.

Gullible: Oh, thank you so much!

Two-face: Office boy, now lower the damn AC temperature to 12 degrees!

Gullible: (thinks) WTF? (What the finger?)

Do you thank two-face or punch him in the face(s)?

That, my friend, is why you should own a car and not learn driving.

Managers

These are the people you adore to bits. You cannot stop thinking about them and you discuss about them with everyone you know.

They ignore you for most of your working life. The only two isolated situations during which they acknowledge you are when they are in trouble or when you are in trouble. Not surprisingly, the ratio of you being in trouble as to them being in trouble is 1000000:0

Otherwise, they do not even look in your direction.

The Human Resources Team

Ah. My most favourite team in the world! What I wouldn’t do to display my undying love, adoration and loyalty to the single most underrated, underestimated, undervalued and underdog department of any organisation!

Ok. Seriously. Why else would they UNDERPERFORM all the time?

Well what do you know, turns out I do have a New Year resolution!

*Demolish people in above list* :D

And this resolution, I will not forget. x-D

Mirror Mirror on the wall, who has the lowest self esteem of them all?

2010-10-12T05:07:00.000-07:00

Everyone is obsessed about the way they look, and everyone wants to look the best. As such, self esteem is the cheapest item you can find these days.

Here’s how you can earn millions by creating delusions of low self esteem and tell the most beautiful person in the world about how they are, well, not beautiful.

Self-esteem hunter: Wow, you have lovely eyes!

So-called beauty not wearing makeup: Why, thank you!

Self-esteem hunter: If only you had worn this raccoon-like eyelash enhancing product.

So-called beauty not wearing makeup: What would I need that for?

Self-esteem hunter: You have great eyes, mind you, but do curtains fly every time you flutter your eyelashes?

So-called beauty not wearing makeup: Why should curtains fly?

Self-esteem hunter: Because raccoon-like eyelash enhancing product gives you great eyelashes.

So-called beauty not wearing makeup: Oh! Give now!

See? It’s THAT easy.

People will buy anything that comes in the form of a fancy bottle, with a difficult-to-pronounce name, providing some outrageous miracles that will occur post usage. Now that I mentioned it, there happens to exist a exciting and budding career option in this field:

The Miracle Product Line Writer
Job Description: Write sophisticated lines, none of which are the truth, or even related to the product or the user.

Example: Gardener Shampoo and Conditioner

"Concocted with special, exotic herbs, your hair will outshine the brightest diamond and redefine physics and geometry with the perfect way your hair straightens itself out IMMEDIATELY after you have towel dried it. It also gives you the liberty to have toe-length hair in one advertisement and ear-length hair in another!"

The perks in this field are high and rewarding, what with three miracle makers being born every second, in the harried attempt to improve every organ of your body, its good health notwithstanding.

Speaking of good health, (as much as I wish to avoid this particular topic), I am forced to bring to mind the illusion of being fat when actually one is pencil thin:

62 kg woman (may be slightly overweight for her 5 inch 3 foot height): Hi sweetheart!

23 kg woman (is grossly underweight for her 5 inch 5 feet height): Do not talk to me, I am fat!

62 kg woman (may be slightly overweight for her 5 inch 3 foot height): *FML*

Every woman does obsess about her weight, true. But there is healthy obsession and then there is the illogical logic that makes me want to pull out every nail, dip it in my eye, then swallow the nail whole, washed down by the purest form of undiluted sulphuric acid.

Here’s how you can tell a painfully thin person that she needs to lose weight, and FAST.

Self-esteem hunter: Wow, what lovely legs you have!

Stick-thin person: Oh thank you!

Self-esteem hunter: If only you could show them off in these ultra-slim, skin-fit, bone-hugging jeans!

Stick-thin person: Why not, here, let me try them!

(Two hours later)

Stick-thin person: *Sob sob*. These jeans do not fit me!!

Self-esteem hunter: WHAT? The ultra-slim, skin-fit, bone-hugging jeans that was originally made for the frame of a 5-year old, do not FIT you?? The horror!! Stop drinking water girl! You have put on weight!

Stick-thin person: (gasps) I am fat!! I am doomed!! I am fat!!

Now thin people who think they are fat, can surely lose all their ‘fatness’, which merely involves peeling off whatever little flesh is left on their bony frame. That way, they won’t be fat no more! But how does one solve the itching ugliness that is threatening to creep out of our darker-than-the darkest-hour skins?

HOW?

Worry not, my gullible friend with no value for your own self esteem. The miracle makers have solved this problem too.

Got an upcoming pageant to participate in? Never mind that you have a perfect body, amazing features, a lovely personality and flawless skin. If you aren’t fairer than blinding light, then you stand no chance of landing any job other than scraping the dirt off your own impeccable nails.

Have been called to a hotshot company for a new job? The interview that you are attending requires you to be a fair, handsome, girl-like man. Preferably with pink lips. The MBA and PHD can rot in hell for all we care.

The all-knowing, omnipotent fairness cream. Fulfils your dreams. Changes the way world looks at you. Which is pretty much bound to happen, since your face is unusually fairer than the rest of your body.

Now cannot-be-seen-in-the-night sort of dark skinned people may have some logical use for the fairness cream. What makes me want to continue the aforementioned sulphuric acid fiasco and add some nitrous oxide to it is the fact that the fair skinned are the target audience for this segment. Stupid? Well not if you have low self esteem people around you.

Self-esteem hunter: Oh my, aren’t you Miss Snow White reincarnate?

Miss Snow White: I AM Snow White.

Self-esteem hunter: Oh well, surely you cannot be THE Snow White!

Miss Snow White: WHAT? Why not?

Self-esteem hunter: Look at those invisible blemishes! And those aging eyes! And the microscopic lines on your forehead! Surely you are not ignoring your own fading beauty Miss Snow White, are you now?

Miss Snow White: Fading beauty? I am 20 years old!!!

Self-esteem hunter: And wouldn’t you like to stay twenty forever?

Miss Snow White: (hopefully) CAN I??!!

Self-esteem hunter: Why yes, dear!

How can beauty be skin deep, when your skin is barely there, hidden under all those multi-layers of make-up and miracle creams?

Damned if I know.

Mail Tales

2010-10-04T05:43:00.000-07:00

Dear Sir,

As I am getting my kidney operated the following month, I would like to apply for the leave in advance. Please sanction my leave from June 17 to June 30.

Kindly grant me the approval at the earliest.

Thanks and Regards,
Tanmay

Re:
Dear Tanmay,

Our client from the USA is coming down next month to meet us. The date is not fixed yet. Unfortunately, your kidneys would have to hold on till then. Please take your medications and drink plenty of water. Maybe this would help?

Best regards,
Mr Rao

Re: Re:
Hi Sir,

I am not in the position to postpone the operation. My kidneys are on the brink of collapse and an immediate operation is required.

Please consider the sensitivity of the situation and grant me the leaves.

Regards,
Tanmay

Re: Re: Re:
Hi Tanmay,

You must understand that for a client to come down from another country to our office is surely a big deal?! You should have informed me earlier that your kidneys were not in working condition.

Regards,
Mr Rao.

Re: Re: Re: Re:
Sir,
I am sorry my kidneys failed to match upto your expectations. While my heart is worried that this may affect my appraisal, my kidneys surely cannot withstand the pressure. Please grant me my leaves.

I may die!

Regards,
Tanmay

Re: Re: Re: Re: Re:
Tanmay,

You have signed a contract of three years and are expected to fulfil every clause in it, one of which involves your presence during this entire period.

Also, since you are the project manager, you are expected to handle all client interactions.

Please request your kidneys to be a little cooperative.

Regards,
Mr Rao

Later in the week.

Dear all,

With deep regret, we inform you that the client couldn’t make it to the ‘have nothing else to do on a week day’ meeting today.

However, the management picnic will not be postponed.

Please note that work continues as is for the rest of the team.

Regards,
Mr Rao

Re: Re:
Dear Sir,

Request you to please sanction my leaves now that the meeting is postponed.

Regards,
Tanmay

Re: Re: Re:
Dear Tanmay,

You have taken undue advantage of my leniency and patience. Please go on and take your leaves.

Note that they will be unpaid leaves.

Thanks.
Mr Rao

Much later in the week.

Dear all,

Since Mr Rathod has arrogantly gone on an unpaid leave and left us in a lurch, we will have to further postpone the client’s ‘can we meet for effective time wastage’ meeting today.

However, our management picnic, which was cancelled last week due to the worry over Tanmay’s absence, will be scheduled for the forthcoming weekend. We should not postpone fun because someone’s kidneys refuse to function for whatsoever reason.

However, for the rest of you, work will continue as is, picnic notwithstanding.

Cheers,
Mr Rao

Careers in Advertising: Defining the actual job descriptions

2010-09-20T10:58:00.000-07:00

Head of Agency: Ability to treat all clients as long lost relatives.

Brand Manager: Should be able to bullshit the client and the team.

Client Servicing: Must know how to say yes all the time.

Copywriter: Should have the knack of saying no.

Art: Should assume that no one understands them.

Client: Must multi-task between assuming, refusing and confusing.

A day in advertising

2010-09-20T10:51:00.000-07:00

Client: I want three options delivered on this in half an hour.

Brand Manager: It’s not possible, but we can try.

Client Servicing: We have a brief. It’s just a 15-minute job.

Copywriter: Tell the bitch I do not work here. So my opinion obviously doesn’t matter.

Art team: This is against my artistic principles.

Client Servicing: Everyone hates me.

Head of Agency: Tell them to do it in one hour.

Brand Manager: Half an hour is all you got.

Client Servicing: The team is working on it.

Client: I think I don’t want that copy anymore.

Love in the time of management

2010-09-03T03:55:00.000-07:00

Scene in meeting:

Boss: “We need to downgrade the bandwith to amplify our budget and augment individual productivity.”

Foreign language translator person: “We have to make do with snail speed internet connection.”

Boss: “I was talking about the length of the toilet tissues we will be using from Q4 onwards.”

Foreign language translator person: “AH.”

It’s unbelievable how people from the management, manage to communicate at all. It’s like they don’t want you to understand what they are saying. Take for example PPT sessions. The PPT was of course, meant to clarify; now that is the ideal situation. In reality, PPTs are designed to confuse – they contain words that were invented before the dictionary was, with ambiguity deeper than the Black Hole. Notice how every new slide is accompanied with faster closing of eyelids and yawns with wider circumferences. But that of course, is me, in a meeting. Other PPT viewers look like they really are loving it, but in actuality, they are planning what to wear for Monday’s job interview.

So, this had me wondering; if and when management people, ‘managed’ to take out the time to, you know, ‘procreate in the name of emotion’, which in simple human language means FCUK for the hell of it, then how do they communicate? I think their conversations may include the following:

When in the mood:
I think I need a raise

When not in the mood:
I don't think I have the bandwidth to touch base*

When complimenting:
You have exceeded my expectations

When reprimanding for being too fast or too slow:
This is not professional behaviour

When discussing ways to innovate:
Maybe I should work on improving my skill sets*

When directing the other person through a ‘maneuver’:
The position has to be directly / inversely proportional to the upward swing of the graph

When making silly jokes (after above dialogue):
What graph?

And most important of all, when playing safe:
Pull your socks up

Now, try not to laugh the next time your manager uses one of the above phrases, or else you may get ‘fired’!

*Susanna Athaide's contribution

Let's talk.

2010-07-23T03:26:00.000-07:00

Conversations. Everyone loves conversations.

Especially if it’s about themselves.

You want to tell your friend about how you tripped the other day and almost broke your hip. However, even before you reach the part where you tripped, BANG! She will think of an incident, where, she too almost broke an organ. So what if it’s just a fingernail that broke? It’s SOMETHING! At this point, you are taken back to your memories of watching the American Pie movies, with Michelle and her “This one time, at band camp” instances which are more boring to hear than it is to hear an HR personnel speak about human kindness.

You never finish your conversation, but you know all about your friend’s broken nail and the exact measurement of ointment used to ensure a speedy growth too. You could probably write a thesis on it, which would be titled, “Nailing it. Not.”

Here is an example:

A: So, today I embarrassed myself in front of my boss

B: Wow, what happened?

A: Well, my boss sends me a mail which I had to reply to, and I punched in the wrong email id, hence mailed a non-existing id and....

B: I know!! That happened to me too! I mean it was just so weird you know!

A: Wait, I didn’t...

B: So what happens is, I am mailing this funny mail to my friend at work...and it gets forwarded to the boss! Like what are the odds of that happening?!

A: Er....

B: I know!!! Anyway, so this boss calls me in, and guess what? (doesn’t allow other person time to guess) She LOVED the mail!!! Isn’t that the coolest thing ever! I thought I was so getting fired today!

A: But....

B: I know!!!! She even told me to include her in my mailing list next time onwards! I hope this gets me promoted!

A: You don’t.....

B: I know!!!!

And some other times, the Conversation Stealers talk about things that are not even related to the topic at large, small or whatever.

Here’s an example:

A: Hey, so I was walking my dog and this weird looking thing bit him and now he is unwell

B: What bit him?

A: Looked like a bug....don’t know...I think....

B: Must have been a shark bug

A: Huh?

B: Dude, did you see the way those sharks bit Joe in that movie? So I was seeing this awesome movie on cable that day.....is called ‘Shark or What!’ Is a funny movie...and has this scene where this shark bites the main character named Joe and it gives him this ugly scar! And you know what he goes around telling people? That he fought a lion! I mean is that funny or what?!

A: I....

B: No! It’s Shark or What!! HAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

Someday. These people will be &^%$#^&*@!%^$%$^#@^&$#@. Someday.

When boredom strikes

2010-07-21T05:03:00.000-07:00

Have you ever noticed that most of the things we do during our sessions of boredom are activities of pure genius?

Here’s a list.

Making funny faces: There is a potential stand up comedian / clown hiding in each of us
Inventing new games: You think Twister was invented when someone saw coloured dots after he fell down the stairs? I hope not
Writing comics: As much as all our famous cartoonists would probably deny, all their creations have stemmed out of sheer, extreme boredom
Practising scenes from movies: What other valid reason for theatre anyway!
Staring at a fly on the wall: The fly population owes boredom one
Shadow talking: If only they could talk back to us. (Source of inspiration for most horror films)
Thinking up ways of Armageddon and how we will save the world: (Steven Spielberg and James Cameron were at the moment-to-kill-self-due-to-boredom before their phenomenal movie scripts took birth)
The way we would die: (EVERYONE has outplayed this scene in their imagination, for countless number of times. Movie Directors are lucky to get other people act it out for them)
This blog: (What! Why are you reading this then? Cos you’re bored? Refer to Line 1 :P)

All dressed up and nowhere to go

2010-06-14T00:32:00.000-07:00

Hot summer days. Hotter summer nights. Chilly winters. Mayhem-filled monsoons. Indian weather is as unpredictable as the Indian Weather Board is. Every weather season hits us with one question: ‘Can you survive this?’ And no, we cannot, but we try our best, through our seasonal clothes, optional make up, terrain specific shoes etc etc etc. But this is how the normal Indian functions.

Now, our telly soap star actresses, they belong to an entirely different league. They hail from another planet, where the extremity of the weather doesn’t seem to affect them, where sweating is perhaps an abnormality rarely (if at all) visible and where a person’s attire is not in any way related to the weather, the situation or the television serial itself.

So.

Here is a crash course on how one can become the Ultimate Indian Television Soap Queen:

Wear make-up. Don’t stop.
Wear colourful sarees. With bright motifs and big diamonds. Ask someone to comment on your saree. If they cannot comment due to lack of sight on witnessing your attire, you have draped the right cloth around your lithesome body. Oh, and yes, wear these at home. Going for a party to some fancy hotel? Just top the garishness of what you are already wearing.
Wear jewellery. All of it. Make sure no body part goes without a decoration.
Wear shoes that defy the texture of every terrain.
Change clothes every time the camera moves away from you. Try to top the garishness of every outfit you adorn. It isn’t difficult. Aliens keep donating their discarded skins to the production units every time.
Go to bed with the outfit you last wore when the camera swayed twenty times around you. Let the make-up stay. Apply some more just to ensure it stays. Wake up looking like you never went to bed at all, where an invisible iron ensured that the creases stayed out of your garments, and where your hair bears the did-not-let-the-air-touch-my-hair look.
Exaggerate every emotion. Mosquito died? Let the tear ducts flow. Dam vessel not making the beloved clinking sound? Murder your mother-in-law’s sister’s husband’s father’s niece’s sister-in-law for the heinous crime of not washing vessels as advised.
Plot. Your husband’s family welcomed you, but there is this one evil lady / man in the family who just hates the way your eyelashes curl. Can also not stand the shadow it throws on the bridge of your nose. So both of you begin the game of plotting, where you plot to stay out of all plots, while the evil lady / man just plots to ensure that you are in the middle of every plot.
So they made you the vamp huh? Easy. To look like a vamp, just increase the occurrence of things mentioned above, to say, 40 times more. For eg: If the nice lady wears only 10 layers of make-up (Indians love the natural look), you just have to put on 40 more layers (We really love the natural look). Ensure that your eyes have some really charming make up that prompts us to think that you are a cross breed between an ugly doe and a hideous snake. Do not forget to adorn gravity, sensibility and length defying jewellery and bindis. About the acting, well...wait, acting? My bad. Just pretend that you were constipated since you were born. Rest should come naturally to you.

It doesn’t take a lot to star in Indian serials. Our soap stars have the ability to make Osama Bin Laden come out of his hiding place and yell, “Enough of the terror! I give myself up!” The only reason why anyone has not tried this yet is because, well, we really are not THAT merciless now, are we?

In a FOUL mood

2010-04-21T02:57:00.000-07:00

There has been much debate on the world’s foulest word. The F word doesn’t really mean anything. For a word that applies to countless situations, the F word has lost its significance. Soon, babies will enter the world, saying “Who the f*** switched on the light?”, and the doctors will nod in agreement about how healthy this baby is.

Hence.

What could be the foulest word then? For a word to qualify as the world’s foulest word, it has to generate ample satisfaction and sadistic pleasure in the person using the foul word and the desire to crawl and die for the victim of the foul word. The word also needs to be applicable to one situation: that the person is absolutely pointless and is the biggest scum of the earth. When you wish to convey this powerful message, only one word comes to my mind: You MANAGER!!

Ouch.

While reading this, some of my readers out there may have already said, “What rubbish”, while some may have used the foul word for me too. This should bother me, of course. But there are people, and then there are managers. And there is no possible reconciliation for that. (If you said WHAT RUBBISH, you know who you are:-P)

Below are two situations where you may need to call upon the powers of this word. These are hypothetical situations. (Yeah right).

A: Bitch! I waited you for FOUR LONG hours in the bloody park!

B: I was getting my hair done.

A: Yah, and I was asking the ants to pedicure me to death!!!!

B: Who?

A: I am so NOT waiting for you next time.

B: Would you rather see me in a weird hairdo!

A: Hahahahaha….am I not NOW???

B: You non-appreciating imbecile!

A: you MANAGER!!

And another one.

A: Did you clean the attic?

B: Do I know you?

A: Clean the attic

B: Give me a good reason why I should waste my time doing something YOU think is important.

A: Because I have knives that I cut vegetables with.

B: (silence) you MANAGER.

If you have used my patent bad word RIGHT NOW, you owe me some amount of money. And try not to insult me with a ‘YOU MANAGER’, as you finish reading this.

We all are MANAGERS at some point in our lives after all :P

Karthik calling Karthik

2010-02-19T23:46:00.000-08:00

The much awaited movie, Karthik calling Karthik, is generating its fair share of publicity. So I decided to join the bandwagon and contribute – for free, mind you. Farhan darling, you owe me one.

So I am speculating. What could this movie be about? Here’s what I think. Karthik (Farhan) is wooing Lambi (my assumed name for Deepika) and they like each other and all that jazz.

Moving on to the main plot:

Lambi and her miniature genius are having a whale of time. However, as all famous couples of Bollywood movies, they come across a major hurdle that threatens the very core of their rock solid relationship (yeh Fevicol ka jod nahi hai?! Saala duplicate maal!). Things happen, people die, a bridge collapses somewhere in the world and Lambi announces that she is bored of her hair now and cannot tolerate Farhan’s good hair days anymore. (Adhuna Akhtar, you’re so sacked) People do get bored you know. Farhan pretends to not notice and continues singing songs while Lambi fumes in a corner. The movie is pretty boring until THE CALL.

Conversation

Caller: Hi, is this Karthik?

Karthik: Yeah, this is Karthik, who’s this?

Caller: Yeah, this is Karthik.

Karthik: Yeah, this is Karthik, who’s this?

Caller: Yeah, this is Karthik.

Karthik: I just told you, this is Karthik. Who the hell are you man?

Caller: Dude, this is Karthik. What’s wrong with YOU man?

Karthik: Why you little prick….

Caller: Dude, its Karthik.

Karthik: YEAH. THIS IS KARTHIK!!!!! WHO THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU?????

Caller: THIS IS KARTHIK!!!!!

Karthik: Dude, just stop repeating what I say or I will cut your….

Caller: THIS IS KARTHIK!!!!!

Karthik: YEAH THIS IS KARTHIK!!!! JUST WHO THE #*^% are you?????????

Caller: Karthik!!!!!

Karthik: WHAT!!!!?????

Caller: WHAT what?

Karthik: YOU piece of….(Suddenly there is a cross connection…and both idiots hear Lambi giggling on the phone)

Caller: What the fu…

Karthik: SHHH!!! This is my girl's voice. Listen to what she is saying….

Lambi: Can you believe it sweetheart? Those dimwits are not getting beyond their own name….so damn funny….I KNOW!!!! Khee kheee kheee giggle giggle….(silence)….oooooh yes let’s do that baby….meet me in an hour…..yeah Tanya I will be on time….muahhhssssss (air kissing sounds)

Lambi’s line goes dead.

Silence.

Caller: Karthik?

Karthik: Don’t start that shit again……

Caller: Dude, my girl’s name is Tanya.

BOTH: SON OF A BITCH!!!!!

I am SO waiting to see whose version is better :D

My name is Khan. I am not a terrorist. (Killing people with my boring movie doesn’t count)

2010-02-17T11:31:00.000-08:00

Herd mentality can be a bad thing. You have a nagging doubt about going ahead with what the majority seems to recommend, but instead of voicing out and vehemently protesting the atrocities of having to subject to another individual’s opinion, you gulp down your insecurities and hope for the best. This is when things like My Name is Khan happen.

After proudly announcing to the world that I would not, under any circumstances, watch this movie even for free, I took the bait and paid a precious 180 bucks for this sob fest. Had I known about the ordeal I was about to go through in the next four hours (K-Jo wtf?! FOUR HOURS?!), I would have happily switched to drinking sulphuric acid from a cocktail glass while smoking up on poisonous fumes instead.

I am not going to write about the story and the director’s vile attempts to make me gouge my eyes out after every five seconds. I will, instead, write about a few observations in the movie, the glaring flaws and of course, the weather, as and when I get bored. Which is a strong possibility considering what I am writing about.

I do not know whether Shah Rukh Khan was acting or was just being his normal self in the movie
A thirteen year old boy with Asperger’s Syndrome pumps gallons of clogged water by cycling away for many tireless hours and no one even thanks him. Unless you count bragging about the boy being one’s student as appreciation
Is it just me or does Shah Rukh Khan look more blind than unfocussed?
Coherent speech be damned, our hero does his imaginary singing in perfect clarity as and when the situation demands it
Kajol meets Shah Rukh for the first time as she went about rescuing him from the crowd that had alighted from a bus, as they were pissed with Shah Rukh for standing in the middle of the road. Kajol then goes on to lecture Shah Rukh on the philosophy of fear. In the middle of the road. Note the absence of the crowd
Kajol’s heart wrenching trust in just-met-guy-on-road-a-month-ago. “Please take my son to the museum. I do not care if you have Asperger’s Syndrome and certainly have no regard for your dislike of crowded places.”
Kajol – “Oh, you have Asperger’s Syndrome AND are jobless! My faith in love is restored! My son will finally have a father! So what if it means a whole lot of adjusting for you. This movie is not about Asperger’s Syndrome anyway.”
Shah Rukh, with such touching innocence, emphasises to pronounce Khan, his surname, in a way similar to the process of trying to get some phlegm out of your throat
Note how boy and wife call father and husband, not ‘Dad’ or ‘Rizwan’, but ‘Khhhhhh-hhhhh—hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-----hhhhhhhhhhhh---an’
Indian boy is killed in broad daylight, in awesomely big soccer field, and not a single soul notices this. The pleasures of murdering in a big school! *Must execute all my enemies here*
Kajol doesn’t apply make-up when she is accusing her husband of being a Khan, but remembers to put some on when she goes around making people aware of the case of her murdered son *sniff*
Shah Rukh goes backpacking through America without so much as a steady job in place, donates all his money to a fundraiser and STILL manages to travel without a hitch. Oh, and please take special note of ‘I am constantly travelling and am almost broke, but I still look bath fresh’
Where there is water, Shah Rukh will cycle - (scene of floods caused by Hurricane Katrina). BMC team, here is your long awaited candidate
Inspite of being afflicted with Asperger’s, our protagonist seems to know the A-Z of organisation when repairing a falling church (Superman, eat this!)
News shows anchored at BBC / PBC are aired in Hindi or Hinglish. Indians, be ashamed. People of another nationality, who do not understand the language, are willing to tune into shows where our Indian correspondents will talk in Hinglish. Maybe they really dig the English parts
Indian correspondent is scared of turban attracting violence in post 9/11 America, but retains beard. Is also fair-skinned, so the beard literally stands out. Is hoping that prospective attackers will ignore his reputation as a reporter, his fancy clothes and watch, and assume that he is too poor to have a shave
Barkha Dutt (which I keep mistyping as Bra-kha for some hilarious reason). I am not sure what the lady is doing here
While the US government lacks apathy, Indians come to the rescue of the people stuck in flooded church. Of course, it doesn’t matter that an actual rescue team is missing. Main hoon na!
President Obama look-a-like wannabe. (goes into laughter fit). He is the REAL hero. He gives a rat’s ass to all security protocols of the USA and allows the barricades holding a surprisingly behaving crowd to be opened, so that our hero can come through *standing ovation*

I watched this movie with a friend who has sworn me to secrecy for fear of being socially rejected. I don’t care about social rejection anyway. After watching My Name is Khan, you pretty much stop caring at all.

One-liner truths

2010-02-02T23:43:00.000-08:00

In all fairness is an insult for the dark-skinned

This meeting room is good for my sleep cycles

Look! A good manager!!! Hahahahaa! Gotcha!

I don’t participate during a meeting? Who is doing all the yawning?

My feelings are no match to your lack of ability to feel anything

Suppose you die.

The boss is angry with me. Maybe it was the 24-page long report that he requested for. Last year.

See? I TOLD you he would sell your report to the ‘save-paper-for-chanawallas’ foundation

In Corporate Limbo

2009-12-28T22:29:00.000-08:00

I: I sent you the mail you requested for.

They: What is it about?

I: You are kidding me right? Right?

They: Should I colour my toenail ghastly red or lovely pink?

I: (descends into gradual insanity)

They: Perhaps you could turn the light tube a bit toward my direction? That should help me decide

I: (should I bring a mini blow dryer to dry your nails) The mail?

They: Oh yes.

Brief silence. For 30 minutes

They: (looks up) Oh, I decided. Lovely Pink it is.

I: (removes gun) Do you want to shoot me?

They: Let my nails dry first

The Engagement of Sushant and Anita (Gulp)

2009-12-07T07:04:00.000-08:00

Girl: So! We are getting engaged!

Boy: (Gulp) Yes.

Girl: What’s that?

Boy: (small gulp) What?

Girl: You gulped. Why?

Boy: I gulp when I’m happy.

Girl: You didn’t gulp when I chose the ring that you bought for the engagement.

Boy: I was too happy to gulp (Gulp)

Girl: You seem to gulp at the wrong moments.

Boy: You can say that.

Girl: I wish you had chosen a ring as pretty as mine.

Boy: I like simple rings (gulp)

Girl: Simple rings make you happy?

Boy: (Gulp)

Girl: Oh I can’t wait for the engagement day!

Boy: (Gulp)

Girl: We will be starting a new bond, a new life!

Boy: (Gulp) (Gulp)

Girl: Forever!!! And ever!!!

Boy: (Gulp) (Gulp) (Gulp)

Girl: Just how happy are you right now?????????

Boy: (Gulp)

Fatness is a state of the fat mind.

2009-11-21T09:38:00.001-08:00

There are fat people. And then there’s us. We aren’t fat by BMI standards. But, if you look at us, you wouldn’t say, “Wish I had a body like that.” In addition, the chance of the likes of us being noticed by anyone is not even a once-in-a-blue-moon thing. In fact, the blue moon may just not come out that one time it does, if it happens to lay its eyes on us.

So we are fat.

We invented a few terms – jelly, dump of a lump, lump of dough / jellyfish, pregnant-yet-without-child etc. We are not exactly proud of this. Perhaps Urban Dictionary likes us for being the two-hundred millionth word on their database. That’s an achievement for us. We find solace in negative things. Are compelled to.

And we are fat.

We feel fat. And the feeling translates into believable reality. Of course, if we feel thin, it doesn’t work that way. (Wonders why). Clothes hate us. But we try to maintain a platonic relationship with them. Also, the camera doesn’t add ten pounds to us. There isn’t any further scope for that. And oh, gravity hates us too. (Einstein, our sincere apologies).

Fat.

But we look at the world from a larger perspective. (Maybe it’s the fat eyes). And that’s where, we see the bigger picture. Pun intended? Perhaps.

The Nokia N73

2009-11-21T08:44:00.000-08:00

Is this what computers have become? The N-Series by Nokia poses this question to the new-generation customer, signifying that technology (more so, Nokia) has come of age, and how! If global warming doesn’t get the better of us, it won’t be too long before the humble cell phone in our palms replaces the computer entirely.

I was gifted the N73 for my birthday, on October 29, 2007. I couldn’t have asked for a better gift. After using a very simple phone—one with a black and white display and pixelated images to pass for graphics—the Nokia N73 was an entire new experience for me. The first feature that gripped my attention was the large display screen. The Nokia N73 has one of the biggest screens in its league – 2.4 inches of screen space (240x320 pixels to be precise). Once I had managed to look past the width of the screen, the sleek design of the phone came into my view. The 116 gm model may seem bigger than most phones in size, but is actually light to hold and fits comfortably into my palm or pocket. The shiny black surface, accentuated with the neo-blue light of the keypad, only intensified my growing affection for this model. And, I had yet to explore the plethora of features embedded in this phone. Such is the magic of the Nokia N73. Its exterior design so captivates you that you can’t help but spend a minimum of fifteen minutes to simply gawk at the phone in sheer admiration.

I then sat myself down to browse through the many features of this phone. Good old Nokia, never too confusing to navigate through, no matter how complex the model. Although the N73 is a complete upgrade for me as compared to the nature of phones I used earlier, the Nokia N73 posed no difficulty in understanding its user interface. The first feature that I sampled upon was the sound functionality of the phone. My phone is a music edition, specially built to produce the finest quality of sound possible in a mobile phone. I was exhilarated with the supreme quality of sound of the N73; crystal clear, crisp, bass-based music, with a complete blocking off of all other sounds in the background. Somehow, the radio sounds better on the N73 than it does on other phones. The set of Bose headphones that comes with the phone, is as sleek as the phone itself, and performs even better in terms of sound quality. Another plus point of this phone is that it supports most of the file formats such as MP3, AAC and WMA to name a few. In short, the music edition of the N73 provides a musical extravaganza that is nothing short of sheer bliss for a self-confessed music fanatic like me.

The third feature that I may never stop raving about is the camera. The model has a 3.2 mega pixel Carl Zeiss lens camera, producing a picture quality that is so fine, it almost could pass for a photo taken from a regular camera. The lens is protected by a sturdy cover, which when flipped back, will get the phone into the camera mode. The camera will produce good images even in poor light conditions. A little button next to the shutter button allows you to directly access the photo gallery, and get back to clicking mode. So, I can click a picture, go to the gallery without getting out of the camera mode, view any image, and get right back to clicking pictures. Saves so much time and is so much more convenient. The model also has a VGA camera, which pales in comparison to the main camera. But it’s the main camera that allows no disappointment to set in the modest picture quality of the VGA camera. In addition to this, the phone allows you to organise your pictures as you please, with a host of intuitive and creative options to choose from, akin to an online album. The most appealing feature in this arena is the slide show option of images. It is like viewing a PPT! Very neat transitions of slides, with a song of your choice playing in the background.

An inbuilt memory of 42 MB with an extendable memory of 2 GB is just about enough to store at least 200 images and 100 songs as well, not to mention every message that you may have received from day one! On board are Microsoft Word, Excel, PowerPoint and Adobe Reader softwares as well as the PC suite enabled Outlook synchronisation. The usual features such as Bluetooth and Infra red are present as also are the SMS and MMS functions, voice recorder, unit converter, GPRS and games.

The Nokia N73 is worth every penny it costs. A wonderful phone that encapsulates a multitude of features, which, after almost two years of owning the phone, I still have to explore! I am still in the stages of enjoying the music and the photography. More is yet to come!

Irony.

2009-11-21T08:36:00.001-08:00

Girl to boy: How much do you love me?
Boy to girl: I would have to leave you to know that.

Its easy.

2009-11-21T08:32:00.000-08:00

This is dedicated to a certain someone I know :)

When I frown.
When I’m down.

When I’m angry.
When I’m cranky.

When I’m frustrated.
When I’m devastated.

When I’m lonely.
When I’m melancholy.

You’re not here, but no matter where.
Here, there, everywhere.

When I need you.
I think of you.

It’s easy.

Look.
Sing.
Laugh.
Feel.
Smile.
Joke.
Cry.
Shout.
Sneeze.
Frown.
Wave.
Snicker.
Grin.
Jump.
Breathe.
Guffaw.
Poke.
Cringe.
Shiver.
Wait.
Walk.
Tickle.
Snigger.
Point.
Sleep.
Cuddle.
Kiss.
Hug.

“Our Love.”

The ant amongst us

2009-11-21T08:18:00.000-08:00

He peeps out of his home. Ms White is cleaning her window again. Mr Smith seems to have had a good night’s sleep because his zipper is not open this time around. Cory Mcfinn is digging his nose again. He is disgusted. No taking anything that falls out of his hand – that’s for sure.

He comes out. It must have rained in the morning – good ol smell of the earth. Ok. Who are we kidding? That was just old Jones farting away to glory. Humans are such filthy creatures. If he so much as let out a molecule of flatulence, the crawly creature would gobble him up in no time.

Let’s venture out today, shall we? A cautious step forward. No Woodland shoe on him. Not yet anyway.

So much to look forward to. Every step a mystery, every breath a luxury. How is it that the humans look so bored then?

He scurries forward.

How to identify a manager

2009-02-15T06:57:00.000-08:00

Their designation. Very fancy title. Makes no sense. For eg: Strategy Manager. I am not sure what does a Strategy Manager do. I am not sure that even the Strategy Manager knows what he does.
The facial expression. Looks constipated all the time.

The manner of walk. Oh yes, check out the walk. Will assume a very straight posture, as though the Taliban is breathing down their neck. It’s the walk that’s supposed to instil fear in the hearts of those who cross their path. All it does is make me laugh.

Steal a peek at their PC. Ninety-nine out of hundred times, they will be working on any of the following three: MS Excel sheet, Internal-software-that-puts-employees-in-trouble or a mail.

They eat at their desk. Always. If possible they would sleep, shit and mate at their desk as well.

They work on a holiday. Not because they have no life. Just so they can boast about it.

They fanaticise a lot. Example: The deadlines they set. They somehow believe these crazy deadlines are achievable.

Their brains know not what their mouth expresses. And vice versa.

They are selectively deaf. They pretend to not hear you when you have a problem, but are all ears when someone is blaspheming you.

They love to gossip.

They are the bullies who never grew up in school and think that the office is one big school playground.

Logic and managers were never meant to be.

They prove their worth by conducting meetings after pointless meetings. And encourage team participation by not allowing anyone to talk.

They are the original soap stars. They create drama around petty things like the non-availability of a drawing pin that will pierce a white board that is as fat as their pompous ass.

Their spoken English is best left unspoken. And they speak it all the time. Even when they know that no one is listening.

They have fake accents and use heavily jargonised language. They believe that aspects are proof of their intelligence. No one has proven them wrong, for no one listens anyway.

They have the irritating habit of speaking to you as though you are dumb. Can’t blame them. It’s difficult to look interested when they talk.

They are fat. The ones who are not fat in body mass are fat-headed.

My very first article in the Economics Times

2008-10-01T04:52:00.000-07:00

This is my article that was published in the SME dialogue page of Economics Times dated September 30, 2008.

Citizen Blogging: The new mantra

The mediums to provide an 'online face' to an opinion are plenty, with a number of blogging networks having cropped up in the past few years. The cut-throat competition and the demand for online visibility are high, and spearheading this platform is difficult. But, Instablogs has overcome these obstacles to emerge as India's first high-profile blogging network.

Launched on October 5, 2005, Instablogs is one of the fastest growing blogging networks in the world today. Instablogs is similar to an online forum, where bloggers, citizen journalists, and traditional media can meet and interact with others. It commands a strong readership base with participation from various countries. "With over 4 million page views and 25,000 registered members, Instablogs has been profitable from its early days," says Nandini Maheswari, the founder of Instablogs. It was the vision of Anil Maheshwari, the father-in-law of Ms Maheshwari of Instablogs, that inspired the latter to create a global interactive platform. "Anil Maheshwari always wanted to run a global newspaper.

When he approached me with this idea, I took no time in grabbing the opportunity,"says Ms Maheshwari. Having started with niche blogs, Instablogs has now expanded into citizen journalism (CJ). "We initially had planned to launch small but highly targeted niche blogs. The idea was to build small communities around these blogs, and then launch a CJ platform on these communities." Instablogs caters to a multitude of interesting facets. Apart from posting blogs on a variety of topics, people report for the site and submit news feeds. Ms Maheshwari adds, "The Citizen Newspaper feature on our site is like any newspaper. The community writes, promotes, filters and consumes the content."

To expand the network, Instablogs worked on several revenue models. Earlier, Instablogs generated revenue through ads, but later moved to a revenue model, which reaped healthy profits. "Revenue for a long time was through advertising. But now, we sell our ad inventory by ourselves, using third party ad networks only for unsold inventory." Though Instablogs was making profits, growing from the break-even level involved challenges. "We had zero marketing budget and few writers and programmers. There wasn't proper content management software available, which could handle multiple domain blog network," says Ms Maheswari. Instablogs had to adopt strategies that were ahead of conventional forms. This became possible after Instablogs identified issues and designed its own tools. "We built our own software. This enabled us to tweak our software as per our changing needs. This gives us an advantage over our competitors".

Like any other start-up, Instablogs also faced challenges and later grew from it. Instablogs' business model sets an example for other SMEs to learn and tread on the growth path. "SMEs can benefit from these news communities by having a dialogue about their products online. Blogs should be like tools in the hands of consumers encouraging them to participate in brand conversation," says Ms Maheshwari.

Ms Maheshwari had her share of rough days. However, the entrepreneur in her only finds new ways to enhance the Instablogs network. "We want to be the 'citizen's' CNN. We want to make an impact in today's world by increasing collaboration and dialogue between people of different cultures, nationalities and religion and inviting them to work on news together and see beyond the noise," she concludes.

Movies of substance

2008-09-27T01:19:00.000-07:00

Mammo, a movie directed by the multi-talented Shyam Benegal, was made way back in 1994....it is more of commercial cinema and not the kind of movie every person would want to watch. I saw it by chance on Doordarshan, when I was a kid, and although I didn't understand much of it, it stayed in my mind. I saw it again around a year back and this time, I understood every bit.

Riyaz, a 13-year old boy, lives with his grandmother Fayyuzi (Surekha Sikri) and her aunt Mehmooda Begum a.k.a Mammo (Fardia Jalal). He lives in a humble house, isn't rich and is quite bitter about his father abandoning him. They are a delightful trio, with tiny harmless squabbles over petty issues occurring between them every now and then. Although the grandmother is quite conservative, which for her age, is not surprising, Mammo on the other hand, is quite free-spirited, modern (for 1994) and an out-of-the-box thinker. And she is about the same age as her elder sister too. Yes.

There is this one scene where she finds Riyaz playing around with some cigarettes in his room, and she sneaks up on him and catches him red-handed. Instead of scolding him severely, she lights up one cigarette, takes a drag, coughs and grimaces over its filthy taste, and then tells Riyaz that this not worth his time and tells him to put it away. It works! Jalal smoking a ciggy is also captured on the DVD cover of the movie. Ultra-cool!

Mammo was born during the British Raj in India, but was one of the thousands who fled to Pakistan during the partition era. Having settled down there, she was automatically termed as a Pakistani citizen. All was well until she realised that she couldn't conceive. To add to her woes, her husband expires a few years later, and property issues and the 'barrenness of her womb' resulted in her relatives throwing her out of the house. With nowhere to go, she comes to India to stay with her sister on a temporary visa, which has to be renewed every month.

To end the constant trips to the visa guy, Mammo somehow scrapes for some money and bribes a police inspector to issue her a permanent visa for staying in India. As luck would have it, the police guy who issued her a permanent visa gets transferred. The police inspector who comes in place of him gets hold of Mammo, labels her an illegal immigrant, and arranges to have her 'transported back' to Pakistan. She is forcibly put onto a train to Pakistan, and no heed is paid to the fact that she has a visa, and the heart rendering pleas of her old sister or young grandson are ignored.

Riyaz and Fayyuzi make many attempts to trace her, but all in vain. Many years later the boy grows up into an adult (played by the versatile Rajit Kapoor, of Byomkesh Bakshi fame), and starts penning down memories of his beloved grand aunt, who in her little ways, made the burden of their lives, a little easier to bear. He hopes to reach out to his lost aunt through these memoirs, and be reunited again.

The movie is a beautiful rendition of how political games can override humanitarian values, and how the Partition has caused many unhealed wounds to this day.

What happens in the end? Watch to find out.

The last movie I watched was Wall-E

2008-09-20T08:59:00.000-07:00

As is the case with every Pixar movie, the characters in this movie have emoted beautifully, almost seeming like they were anything but inanimate objects, which i believe, only accentuated the wonderful display of emotions.

Set in a few light years ahead of the new millennium, the movie showcases how, a simple robot, unknowingly, through his simple ways, goes about waking up human beings to the cause of saving their planet from complete extinction.

The storyline is beautifully carved around the protagonist, WALL-E. His simplicity and innocence, and his heart-rendering affection for female android EVA, is almost reminiscent of the character played by Tom Hanks in FORREST GUMP. However, when the movie ended, I couldn't help thinking that the love angle in the movie (of that between WALL-E and EVA) could have been avoided. If they were to be friends, a brother-sister duo, or just two plain strangers out to save the earth, it would have been just fine. But as lovers, I opine that a little focus was unnecessarily shifted away from WALL-E — who with his inability to speak coherently, could yet convey the message more comprehensively than words ever could.

Somehow, the love angle tainted an otherwise flawless movie. It's not that the love angle was not explored beautifully. It was not handled in a crass or comical manner. The simple devotion that WALL-E nurtured for EVA is indeed touching and cute, at times. But I feel that movie makers ought to do away with the tactic of having to drag a love angle into every movie they make. Two people don't need to fall in love to save a planet. Or make a splendid chef, as was the case with Ratatouille, another brilliant (and my favourite) Pixar movie. A mouse and a man become the best of friends. What a combination, and a winning one at that. For me, friendship always score above love.

But overall, a splendid movie. Nothing beats the graphics quality of a Pixar movie. A must watch, on the big screen. Four out of five, I would say. Watch it.

Translating corporate lingo

2008-08-21T20:34:00.000-07:00

You must try to adjust to the situation.
Stop acting like a whiny bitch and get the work rolling.

We have to do something about this.

You’re fucked.

Can you tell me the status of the task?

Get it done already, you slow retard!

We should discuss this in a meeting.

Let’s waste some more time in solving your petty issues.

I need to have a word with you.

Where’s my gun?

I’ll have a look at that.

I don’t even want to have a fleeting glimpse of that.

Yeah sure.

No.

Do you have a minute?

I want all your waking and sleeping hours dedicated to me.

Is she coming to office?

Her ass better be on its way to the office now!

How may I be of help?

Can you do anything without anyone’s help?

We have to meet the deadline

You have to meet the deadline. I have to lounge around in the bar down the street.

Yeah sure, I understand.

Seriously, where’s my gun?

Is there a problem?
Have you screwed up again?

I was looking for you.
I wasted my time searching for your scrawny ass.

What?
What the fuck?!

Why Santa Claus is NOT a woman

2008-07-28T23:13:00.000-07:00

God (if there is one) is a smart chap. He chose man to take up the responsibility of being Santa Claus (if there is one). Think why.

Shopping for gifts
A woman shopping for children? A woman shopping? Stop right there.

Children
Children can be real pests. Women too. No good pairing them up. Push the man in the front.

Driving the reindeer around
Women can’t drive. Period. You can’t kill a reindeer, giggle about how stupid you are, show your lovely teeth to the parole officer, and get away with it. This is not Earth.

Ho Ho Ho!!!!!!!!
What would the woman say to announce her arrival? Hee hee hee? The children will think that a witch has come and will run for their lives. And what would we call her? Santina Clausina? Lady in red? Sounds like the name of a porn movie.

Slinking down the chimney business
Imagine a woman doing that. She will not go down the chimney. She is bound to make all sorts of excuses such as how the soot will spoil her manicured legs and spotless clothes and blah blah blah. Who needs this grief? Down you go man.

And most importantly…..
Who is going to tell the children that the jolly old (?!) woman is not Santina Clausina (chokes) but is actually their MOM!! They have to know that at some point. You don’t won’t them writing letters to Santina Clausina at the age of 30, asking for a job.

Now imagine a DAD (read MAN) explaining that to his child. Yes. 99 times out of 100, he will be cursing his wife a.ka. Santina Clausina, for putting him in this situation. It somehow seems worse. And there is a huge chance that he will screw it up.

So man is better off being Santa Claus. The one thing he is good at anyway.

Interesting conversation

2008-07-28T07:59:00.000-07:00

Girl: So, dear, will you come to meet me in the evening?

Boy: Depends.

Girl: Come on, you have to come.

Boy: Yeah sweets, I know. But I have to see how much work I may have at office.

Girl: So you won’t come?

Boy: I didn’t say that.

Girl: You said you have to see how much work you may have at office.

Boy: Yes, that is what I said.

Girl: So, if you have too much work, you won’t come?

Boy: I will try.

Girl: That means you won’t come.

Boy: I said I will try.

Girl: You won’t come.

Boy: I didn’t say that.

Girl: You said you will try.

Boy: Which means?

Girl: That you wont come.

Boy: No, it means that I will try my level best to make it. I will TRY to come.

Girl: Trying is not the same thing.

Boy: It’s better than not coming at all.

Girl: That means you won’t come.

Boy: I will. I said I will try.

Girl: Say you will come.

Boy: Will try.

Girl: Means you will not come.

Boy: You must stop saying that over and again. I said I will try to come.

Girl: It’s not the same thing.

Boy: Have you said anything different in the past 10 minutes?

Girl: No. Neither have you.

Boy: I just did.

Girl: Stop that nonsense now. Are you coming or not?

Boy: I will try.

Girl: No you won’t.

Boy: I will.

Girl: Come?

Boy: Try.

The conversation is not so interesting now, is it?

The verdict is out

2008-07-23T05:53:00.000-07:00

I went to the doctor again to get my ankle examined. The reports stated that I have internal swelling of some soft tissue (thankfully, my hard tissues are intact). I have been advised to take rest for atleast a week. Yay. Now I can finally count how many tiles are there on the floors of my house.

Add to this, the strong medication has altered the health of my digestive system. I now have a mild case of dysentery. The very thing that I find difficult to do, I now have to do it every 10 minutes.

WHERE IS THE JUSTICE IN THIS WORLD????

Come to think of it, I now have all the time to count the number of tiles in my bathroom. Yay.

Where do you see yourself five years from now?

2008-07-21T02:16:00.000-07:00

In an interview, if one was asked,

Where do you see yourself five years from now?

One would normally say:

“Stabilised in a senior position in my field of expertise”. Blah blah and so on and so forth.

What most would really want to say is:

* In the CEO’s seat
* I am sorry, but I am short-sighted
* Happily married with twin boys. And I also hope that I am the CEO of this company
* Selling porn for a living
* I want to be the President of India within five years
* I don’t know what I will be doing five HOURS from now
* Do you know what you will be doing five years from now?
* The same place where I was five years earlier. My house.
* God knows
* Dead, I hope?

Such a funny question.

Alive but not kicking.

2008-07-20T23:32:00.000-07:00

My left ankle is 3 months pregnant. Conceived on Thursday, July 17, 2008. While I was running for a train.

The time was 7:10 am. I had all the time in the world to take a leisurely tour of Malad station, talk about the weather with the paanwalla outside, and also count how many bikes and cycles are parked outside the station; and after all this, I would still have managed to reach office by 8.00 am. Yes? No.

There! The train is come, I better run for it. My brain (or the lack of one) decided that 7:10 am is too late and Andheri is 1000 kms away and there is no way I can possibly reach office by 8:00 am. No sir. Jogging across the bridge, scampering slowly down the stairs (have vowed not run down the stairs after a very nasty fall down the stairs at Bandra station)…the train is on the platform now…make a run for it…RUN!!!

Run I did. A little sprint….train has stopped now…you are almost there Anita…stupid women in my way…do a Neo-Matrix thing and dodge them….swish swoosh… cannot miss the train…RUN….uh oh…losing my balance now…regain it immediately… ….OUCH!!! Dear LORD of the heavens, MY LEG!!! But thank God, I am in the train!!! I won’t be late for work now. Victory at last! Everyone is applauding me…Yay.

I spotted an empty seat and sank down…and then realised that my left foot is sending very painful signals to my stupid brain. I wanted to cry out in frustration and pain…but I couldn’t. Public place you see. According to my intelligence-defying logic, you may have an arrow sticking out of your chest, but if you want to sit down, you should always smile and say, “Excuse me, is that seat taken?”

I clutched my foot and noticed a very big swelling forming on my left ankle. I couldn’t keep my leg down on the floor and for a good half hour, I was completely numb (aside from the foot, of course. That pained like a bitch). The pain was unbearable and I thought I was maimed for life. Goregoan went by. Jogeshwari is on its way now. I tried to think and decide my point of action.

I debated fiercely in my head. Should I go home? Should I go to work and then tell someone to drop me home? Maybe I should go to Churchgate and then back to Borivali and back and forth between Churchgate and Borivali till I was sure that I could get up and make a move. The last idea seemed like the most humane thing to do at that point of time. I could sit and never get up. Such a relief.

As this insane idea swam about, agreeing with all the dead cells in the junk of a brain in my head, the train was in the process of leaving Jogeshwari station. And that fact suddenly came to my attention. I could have gotten down here and waited on the same platform for my next train! I wouldn’t have to climb any bridges or stairs (which at that time was equivalent to climbing Mount Everest) to get my Borivali train! Goddamit! Great ideas make a conscious effort to avoid me—and spring up only at the last moment. Always.

The lovely idea of sitting in the same train and making countless rounds of Churchgate and Borivali, didn’t seem lovely anymore. Someone might report me to the railway officials as a terrorist with a swollen leg, who has been in the same train since three days. No, that won’t do.

I thought of getting down at Andheri and hopping to work and asking someone to drop me home. I told you, I don’t have a brain. Andheri was almost 2 minutes away. I had to get up now. Considering my speed of walking, I thought the train will reach Churchgate by the time I reach the door. But thankfully, I alighted at Andheri. Yay. Another victory (?!)

By now, my entire left leg was in sheer pain, as my nerves screamed for relief. I decided to go to work. I walked towards the stairs and looked up. Suddenly, Mount Everest loomed in front of my eyes. There lay the huge staircase in front of me. How am I ever to climb that without falling down and breaking some more bones? And then it dawned on me that if I can’t climb a few stairs, then maybe going to the office was not such a good idea after all. Yay! My brain DOES work on few rare occasions!

I climbed the stairs, went across the bridge, climbed down the stairs and limped to the platform. Did this in 20 minutes. On a good day, I would be in the train in 5 minutes. THREE trains came and left by the time I reached the platform. After what seemed like an eternity, I was finally in the train. Going home. The only good part of this cursed morning.

And here I am, back at work. Had to sit or lay on my ass for FOUR whole days. Just sit and count flies. But at least, I was at HOME. Maybe I should run some more on the platforms…..

YOUR INTELLIGENCE DEFIES LOGIC. Touché. Was that rude? I mean was that RUDE ENOUGH? No? Let me try again….

2008-07-09T04:24:00.000-07:00

It is a common misconception that everyone can be sarcastic. I object. I didn’t want to use the phrase ‘Beg to differ’ for a couple of reasons. First, I won’t ‘beg’ for a chance to make a point. If I have something to say, I will say it right out. Secondly, it displays such fake modesty. ‘Beg to differ’. So, you can be all humble and sophisticated and say stuff like “I beg to differ, but you are just plain brain dead and ugly” to someone who thinks that she / he should be walking the ramp and has intelligence that surpasses genius? Yeah, if you are sarcastic like I am now….perhaps you may….

So, going back to where I left off, it is a common misconception that everyone can be sarcastic. But then, nonsensical stuff is always commonly known and often is a stupid misconception. Really now, can everyone say something in such a way that the victim is rendered speechless or doesn’t even know what hit him? It is a rare art, mastered by a few and ‘practiced’ by many fools.

Why do I love sarcasm? Simply because I derive a sadistic pleasure from it. It satisfies me immensely to know that I have shut the opposite person’s filthy mouth up. (Hopefully, for a few years). That what I said has made the victim stutter to say something remotely fitting for the generous insults I have bestowed on him. To know that the truth has been conveyed with such little effort and so much impact. Sarcasm. It’s my favourite tool.

Little wonder then that my boyfriend is ten times more sarcastic than I am. He is so sarcastic that he looks like what sarcasm would look like if it had a face. Very few actually look like what they feel in general. Very few. It’s called the ‘default feeling’. You better not ask these species, “So how are you?” at a wrong time. They will say something so vicious, and in such a normal tone, that you might scrunch up your pitiable face and start crying. At such times, your insides have melted and crying is the only thing that you can do. Literally.

It’s not like sarcastic people are eternally pissed off with the world and everything in it. No. That again is rubbish. COMMON MISCONCEPTION. They have so many things to look forward to, and most have what you would call ‘the good life’. Happy as a carefree bird and satisfied with the way their lives are shaping up. It is just that they are surrounded with morons. Wannabes. Impersonators. People are so driven away from reality (out of their own personal choice) that it makes us cringe, scream our lungs out in frustration and then take each moron and fry them up, limb by limb. But then, why all the mindless effort directed at something so insignificant? Talking is so much easier.

What is even funnier (and very pissing off at times) is that most of the victims JUST DON’T GET IT. They sometimes even LAUGH, thinking that you cracked a very hilarious joke. And then, they will break out into some absolutely irritating and fake, hyena-like howling / laughing. And it gets you thinking, “Oh cool, he is laughing at his own expense”. Or they will just stare at you dumbly. No reaction. Snap your fingers. They won’t even blink. Sometimes it makes you wonder, why even bother?

Sarcastic people are brutally honest. That is why people avoid such ‘sarcastic species’. They think that they are downright rude. Which at one point, may be true. But the fact remains, that no one is strong enough to deal with the truth. That is reason for the apathetic state that the world lives in today. Everyone is trying to ‘get away from it all’. Which is good enough, as long as they survive. What happens when it finally comes to you? That’s when the shit hits the fan. And then, it is too late, to, you know, switch off the fan or pray for an electricity cut.

I have observed that many GENUINELY sarcastic people, more often than not, are atheists, or else, their belief in the ‘HIGHER POWER’ is standing on shaky grounds.

Is there a connection? Maybe. God wouldn’t like it if we keep telling everyone ‘the truth’, now would he? There is a reason why Jesus Christ was crucified. He told the truth. And he also was sarcastic. One of the best. He told the truth like it is. But with such subtlety that I can’t help but admire his wit. He made the Romans think. They never had before. And they couldn’t handle it. He may be a fictional character for all I care, but fiction or not, he was sarcastic, to say the least. And that is all that matters to me.

There just might be a connection between being sarcastic and being atheist; perhaps, we can’t seem to apply any logic to the existence of God. Or of a higher power. Why will someone waste all their time ‘up there’ and monitor all the nonsense going on ‘down here’? They might as well be a part of it and enjoy it rather than sit on their ass the whole time, just looking at millions of morons go from one crappy day to the next.

What a waste. Or better still, why not explore the universe? Here is man, trying to conquer the skies, inventing all sorts of devices to enable a deeper study of the Milky Way and other such wonderful things. And wasting precious money and time. And there THEY are, with the entire universe at their disposal. How about taking a tour? Or better still, play with the planets. Like Calvin did when he was solving mathematical problems. (Calvin would have been a great God). No, THEY will just sit and watch. Like freaks.

Moreover, humans live their lives governed by principles that have been brought into existence with due support from the ‘Almighty’. Ya okay. So I will live my life based on what THEY think. And I don’t even get a choice. And no, free will is not free will if there are consistent subtle hints and nudges of ‘doing the right thing’. Suppose I want to bomb my office. But I can’t do it because ‘It is not the right to do’. So what happened to free will now? Anyway, most of the rules are made by humans. Religion / religious books are very much like those ‘How to do this and How to do that’ books, which are full of the opinions of someone who has nothing constructive to do with his time. And these opinions are influencing your life. Religion. People pray for it, fight for it and kill for it. I innocently wonder now why do most of the murders in the world take place in the name of religion. God is as real as Santa is.

Sarcastic people therefore shun religion, for it is full of loopholes. There doesn’t seem to be any good coming out of it. Whether or not we follow a religion, our lives would have been the same. In addition to this, you can’t be mean and sarcky and claim that you love God and all his people. Hypocrisy and sarcasm don’t go well together.

Sarcastic people also have to hear many snide remarks. But a sarcastic person is only truly insulted if the opposite person’s remark is snider than his. Not because they had to listen to an insult. That is not bad at all. They don’t give a rat’s ass about such things. What is unnerving is that they have to tolerate a person who is damn frustrating to be with, but has a sarcasm meter that crosses all boundaries. It’s like meeting your competitor. You hate his guts only because he is so damn good. But if you are sarcastic, you have learnt to laugh and pass comments on yourself too. A guy who is more sarcky than you are has said something viciously sharp to you. You can snap back by saying, “You can insult me better than I can insult myself!” Yeah. A sarcastic person sees opportunity in everything. Irrespective of whom the joke is upon.

All said and done, sarcasm is the best tool you could ever have. It delivers all the time. It can never fail, provided you don’t get brain damaged or something. Sarcastic people thrive on the stupidity of the people around them. As long as stupidity exists in the world, sarcasm will flourish. And the world is full of stupid people. One in three persons is stupid and doesn’t even have a clue about it. It’s true. You didn’t have a clue about this until know, did you? See what I mean?

Hilarious lyrics of DIL DANCE MAARE from the movie Tashan.

2008-07-08T21:33:00.000-07:00

I know it is a Hindi song and all....but this song is simply funny. Read it

Dil Dance Maare - Tashan

White white face dheke dil woh beating fast sasura
Chance maare reeee eehhheeee

Aare
White white face dheke dil woh beating fast sasura
Chance maare re
Ohhhooo
White white face dheke

Aahh…
White white face dheke dil woh beating fast sasura
Chance maare re
Oh very… oh very…
Oh very happy in my heart
Dil dance maare re
Very happy in my heart, dil dance maare re
Dil dance maare dance maare
Dil yeh dance maare
Oh very happy in my heart
Dil dance maare re

Oiye can’t stop my feet
Can’t stop my feet, jo lamwa kare hai zalim beat

Hai can’t stop my feet
Jo lamwa kare hai zalim beat
Kadakti heat mein ban ja deet
Nainan se nain mila re
Baath dil kin a chupa re
Oh aaja mujhko tu baata re
Oh very happy… happy… happy
Oh very happy in my heart
Dil dance maare re
Very happy in my heart, dil dance maare re
Dil dance maare dance maare
Dil yeh dance maare
Oh very happy in my heart
Dil dance maare re

Hoo rose ki jaisan pink pink, humre gaal gulabi
Sky ke jaisan blue blue hi tohara nain sharabi
Bola chera jaise moon,
Kali zulfe jaisa cloud
Ab na aur chupya jaye, dhadkan ho gayi very loud
(Dhadkan ho gayi very loud) — 2

Hoiiii… tohare dil ka theatre ma aaa….
Tohare dil ka theatre ma
Dil deewana booking advance maare re
Aaaa..
Humre dil ka theatre ma
Dil deewana booking advance maare re
Oh very … oh very…oh very
Oh very happy in my heart
Dil dance maare re
Very happy in my heart, dil dance maare re
Dil dance maare dance maare
Dil yeh dance maare
Oh very happy in my heart
Dil dance maare re

White white face dheke dil woh beating fast sasura
Chance maare re
Aahh…
White white face dheke dil woh beating fast sasura
Chance maare re
Oh very… oh very…
Oh very happy in my heart
Dil dance maare re
Very happy in my heart, dil dance maare re
Dil dance maare dance maare
Dil yeh dance maare
Oh very happy in my heart
Dil dance maare re….

EDUCATIONS be damned

2008-07-08T06:05:00.000-07:00

The other day, i was in the train. I saw this ad for home tutors. It read:

Skilled professionals helping your child's educations grow.

I am glad. They help my child's EDUCATIONS grow.

Not just an EDUCATION. EDUCATIONS. Education with a 'S'. Like a free offer. Buy one, get one free.

No wonder there are so many illiterate people in my country.

EDUCATIONS. Sheesh.

Split – the band

2008-07-03T05:10:00.000-07:00

I am ever so grateful to Pradnya Joshi, my giggly and bubbly friend from Netscribes. She took me to Firangi Paani and introduced me to the coolest local band ever. Split. I heard them for the very first time on May 27, 2008. They have been around for a while and I have been missing all the action. Damn it Pradnya! Couldn’t you have told me about these guys sooner? When will you improve? Always late!

Moving on, Split is

Garreth D’Mello (vocals)

Aviv Pereira (lead guitars)

Melroy D’Mello (rhythm guitars)

Shekhar Mohite (Bass)

Nigel Collasco (Drums)

Pradnya knows Nigel etc etc and that is how we got to go to the gig. I wasn’t really keen on this one because frankly speaking, the Indian rock scene is very boring, with a few exceptions of HFC (Helga’s Fun Castle) and Them Clones. Now these guys have such an interesting sound. A song of Them Clones was actually used for a bike ad, can’t recall which one though.

Most of the other bands are aping the West, or at least trying to, and end up making a mockery of themselves in the bargain. It is such a waste of effort, time and electricity. I can’t stand PDV (Pin Drop Violence). I think they are all noise and no music. And Pradeep Miranda is so over-hyped. Get a life guys.

So, with all this angst against the Indian rock scene, I was pretty sceptical of listening to ‘yet another Indian band’. But boy, was I wrong! After some bands doing their thing, which also included an Irish band, whose vocalist spoke more and sang less, (he should be an orator. Or a politician in India) I was about to strangle myself. However, I must say that there was another international band that wasn’t all that bad. The lead vocalist reminded me very much of 4 Non Blondes vocalist, Linda Perry, and she indeed was a delight, both to watch and listen to. Wish I knew the band name!

But that was it. I was getting frustrated by the minute and Split didn’t seem to be coming upfront very soon. I threw daggers-eyes at Pradnya and she patiently told me to wait. So wait I did. And I am willing to wait another lifetime if I just to get hear that voice again. Yeah baby, after an eternal interim period, SPLIT WAS ON!

Perfect guitars, drums were just so right and the songs? Who cares that I couldn’t understand a word? I was intently focusing on the voice. And the man behind that deep, resonating, sending shivers-down-my-spine voice. Ah Garreth. You are simply amazing.

Such an interesting voice. I didn’t pay attention to anything else. Just the voice. It has a mysterious edge to it. And the way the words swirl. Heaven.

I liked the entire person Garreth transformed into once he started singing. It was such a pleasure to watch him perform.

Split played for the longest time and generated the loudest cheers amongst the audience. Everyone in the bar stopped doing what they were doing and listened. Split is playing. Nothing could be more important than that!

You could say I have become a fanatic Split fan. I could say that you were right. But no. I am just a fanatic Garreth D’mello fan. We worship thee!

For more information, you should visit their website:

http://www.splitsplit.org/lyrics.html

Thank you Pradnya! Nature’s eight wonder has unfolded before us!!!

2008-07-03T04:05:00.000-07:00

How about that? The dudhead strikes again!!! I have managed to post a comment on my own blog!!

Susanna Athaide.

2008-07-03T03:01:00.000-07:00

I am no lesbian, but I really love this gal. She is like an extended version of me. Except that I am fatter. I connect with her in a very weird way. The only other person i connected with so well, was my once-upon-a-time-best-friend-Kimberly Almeida.

The reason why I think I am a half-wit is probably because Susanna has the other half of my brain. I say the weirdest things and she understands me so well. Ditto for her. (Stop smirking Susanna). We are voracious readers. Sleepers. (not together, thank you very much). Chocolate lovers. Love music like we love our books. Actually no. We love books more. Can do without music. Will die without books. (I can almost see Susanna nodding her head vigorously).

I dedicate a song to my sweet pal - The Lonely Shepherd by Gheorghe Zamfir. I think the mood, thoughtfulness, calm and solemness of the song fits her well. I miss her. She isn't sitting next to me any more. I have no one to irritate now. This is a terrible tragedy.

I wish her luck in everything. The world needs more Susanna Athaides.

We are as retarded as the rest

2008-07-03T02:33:00.000-07:00

On Tuesday, the heavens opened up, and down came the rain. Unrelenting rains for an entire night and four hours of the following day, and what with the tide coming in at 11:00 am, Mumbai yet again looked like it always does, year after year, after it is hit by torrential rains. (Thank you, you brain-dead news channels. You never made me forget.)

And then, came out the angry young Mumbaikar, lashing out at the BMC, for not doing their job, as they had promised to. How many crores went into making Mumbai flood-free? 2 crores? 3? WHERE IS ALL THE MONEY GOING???

Well, some of it was used to clear the mess that we, civic senseless citizens, so shamelessly, have created, and are completely oblivious of. Plastic bags are supposed to have been banned eons ago. These enemies of the environment are not doing any good to anybody. Dustbins exist for a reason. Littering on the road is equivalent to littering in your own house.

Trees. Beautiful green trees. Ever heard of a tree making your life miserable? Trees. Shade. Calm. Cool air. Breeze. Green solace. Trees. What possible good are we getting out of cutting trees? Trees hog the space that supposedly belongs to man? This Earth doesn't just belong to man, you know.

The BMC cannot function if we don't cooperate. Corrupt officials are not an excuse. We elect them. If they don't perform, it is our duty to have them out of office. We cannot sit on a nail and complain that our ass is sore. Its about time we take responsibility for our own actions.

Save your own soul.

Aamir - post Khuda Ke Liye = DOWNER

2008-07-03T02:22:00.000-07:00

Last month, I saw Aamir (prompted by all the media hype, very unnecessary, might I add). It isnt all that great a movie and pales in comparison to Khuda Ke Liye, the Pakistani hit that had scorched the theatres a while back.

Although both, Aamir and Khuda Ke Liye tackled the same subject— the fundamentalists Muslims v/s idealist Muslims—the former was not as captivating as the latter.

Watch to understand why.

And watch Khuda Ke Liye first and then Aamir.

Bah.

2008-07-03T02:00:00.000-07:00

I am sitting here doing nothing. I am positively bored.