Haseena Chamkeeli ka Phone Number

** H.E.L.P M.E. **

There is this company called "Foster Wheeler" with its offices at Chennai and Calcutta . If you work here , or know anybody who does , please drop me a mail at abhinavj8008@gmail.com . I will be your slave . You say sit , I sit , you say run , I run , you say kill me , I will kill you . Please help me out guys .

PS - if your aunt knows a guy who works in an office a couple of blocks away from Foster Wheeler , thats not exactly a contact .

** EXIT H.E.L.P REQUEST **

So , I made the leap . I have quit my job .

Last week , I walked into my boss’s room and said the words . I had actually practiced the entire thing , that fiddling with the mobile as I walked in , saying it with the right emphasis on words and tones , that pregnant moment of silence , when our eyes locked and none of us knew what to say ( why do I feel this sounds romantic ? ) , the entire setting you know , including the last part where I duck to avoid the chair hurled at me by him .

So , anyway , now that I am out of it , I have decided to follow my heart . In another month , I will be on my way to Kenya where I intend to be a part of a team and research if Gorillas can be trained to play cricket . Ok , don’t believe the last part . ( Waise topic interesting hai , I think they can , I mean , symonds does play cricket . Haha , kitna racist hoon main )

I will soon be joining a fresh job which does not involve any animals , and I know I will love it . Remind me to steal all the mousapads and paper weights before I move out. Delhi , I am back . Wait a minute , I must pick up the coffee machine on the second floor too .

But the thing which excites me to the most right now , along with the prospect of eating Chinese tonight ( I mean Chinese food , eating Chinese sounds like I am about to sink my fork into Mr Ching Loo Ming who lies prostrate on my dining table ) , is the phenomenon which has a strong hold on every young manly heart in this country , after the hold exerted by Music Videos of Haseena Chamkeeli ( seriously yaar , Bhojpuri Diva hai ) , that is – Indian Premier League .

Yes , the prospect of not having it before the Indian audience is a little damp . I mean , what’s more intriguing than the sight of a dark , wiry Indian man who , as soon as he senses the camera turning in his direction , invests all his energies into pulling out his kid from his lap and throwing him away , jumping up and down , and waving at the camera without any interest in what’s happening on the field , or the fact that his wife is probably looking at him on TV and asking herself “Is this the man I married ?”.

But I am very excited for the matches to begin . I wanted to support The Punjab team , but then , things between me and Preity just haven’t been the same since I saw Videsh .

About my life , you know what happened if you read the last part of the last post . ( And if you did read that , I will know that you have zero interest in your work . You know , the sort of worker who spends unnecessary time at the water cooler and in extreme moments of boredom , tries counting the number of keys in the keyboard . I mean , kitna blog padta hai yaar ? Itni padayi school mein kee hoti to aaj NDTV profit par aa raha hota tu suit pehankar . )

So , about what “happened” , I have never been so sure of anyone else before this . I thank you all for your wishes and I will return the favor by inviting you whenever I get married . You know , you can all dance in the baraat and freak the brains out of the ghodi. Waise that reminds me , these ghodies who carry the dude in the baraats must have so many dinner table stories to tell their families . I mean , imagine a horse family sitting around a dinner table with the papa ghoda , mummy ghodi and the little ghoda and ghodi and the ghodi regaling them with tales of the Red Turbaned Mr Ahluwalia in that Silver Jacket she saw enacting the naagin dance in the Joshi Family’s Baraat earlier that night . Hinhina hinhina kar hansteee hogi poori family .

And some time ago , I saw Govinda in an Amritsar Hotel .I mean , my idol ! Mere sapno ka raajkumar ! Now , if I was a celebrity being interviewed and the sugary host tilts her head to one side , looks at me admiringly and say “So aapko aisa banne ki prerna kahan se mili ?” , my answer would be “Prerna kahan mili ? Mana kar diya tha usne” . Ok , chilling kar , my answer would be “Govinda.” I mean , mast banda hai yaar . You know , to make people laugh sounds like easy , but if one decided to do it consciously , it is like being brave enough to climb a stage without your pants on . I know all these serious types log who think funny people are not really ready for the "kaam dhaam" of the world . I say the day you understand the mind of a funny guy , you will know how much of guts and stealing from Joke Books that needs.

And I hear there is a naya reality show on TV called “Rakhi ka swayamvar” . There will be a number of men ( what ? are they suicidal ) who will try to woo Rakhi and winner will actually marry Rakhi . Oh Jejus ! I mean , real shaadi man . Pandit and varmaalas and kids running around aloo chaat stalls and everything . One question for all the participants – “Kyun Bhaiyon ? Iss duniya mein suicide karne ke aur bhee tareeke the na ? apni socks doon ? soongh lo .”

Anyway , aaj to Baisakhi ki chutti hai ( Background mein “Harippa” ki ek dumdaar shout ) . So I am lazing in my room since morning . Now I must get up and do something more than write on a screen . Kulfi khaane ka mann kar raha hai , jaakar kulfi khaata hoon . Tu bhee kuch kaam kar le . Chal ja na , abhi bhee dekh kya raha hai screen mein . Bye .

PS – Subject Line ka koi sense nahi hai . logic mat doondh . Main jaanta tha aisa subject line dekh kar tu padega zaroor . Sudhar ja yar . Umar ka to lihaaz kar apni . :p

A forgotten page from that brown little notebook

I will respect my elders.
I will help others.
I will say the truth.
I will be a good human being.

Sometime in the late eighties. A school classroom. Charts with drawings in crayons hang around its walls. A stocky lady teacher with thick plastic rimmed glasses perched on her nose stands facing a class of six year olds , who sit on little wooden chairs and write the above lines in their brown little notebooks.

There is a child .The first bench. She makes the short children sit in the front so that she can see when they are not listening. The child writes down the lines too. Hesitant , unsure handwriting. Maybe a word or two is spelt wrongly. I think that child used to spell a being as beeng at that time. But he did write the lines.

I will be a good human beeng.

A simple sentence. A sentence that is made up of simple thoughts. Respect elders. Help others. Be kind. Say the truth.

Six year olds are innocent people. They believe everything their teachers tell them. That child too believed what she told him. That he was to be a good human being when he grows up. That child wanted to be a good human being when he grew up .

Twenty One years later , that child sits on the carpetted floor of this living room typing words you read now. He has grown up now . He studied his books well . Went on to become an engineer , then went to a good management school . Now works at a big company .

Over the years , he was faced with a lot of choices . And he made many choices . I don't know if he evolved , but he changed .

Amongst the trigonometry lessons , the thick books of software engineering and the prolonged lectures on service marketing , he forgot that sentence he wrote in that little , brown covered notebook that day. No , wait . Maybe he did not forget . But he did not care much about it . The world did not care much about it , either . Nobody , including himself , asked “Are you a good human being , as you promised once ?”

They applauded when he proved himself better than others . Faster than others . Sharper than others . He went faster when others went ahead . That is what matters . Better than others . . Being a good man did not matter much to anybody , and he believed it did not matter to him . He was no longer that child .

I have not been good so far . I have hurt people , I have said things which have tore apart hearts of good souls , I have been indifferent , not caring about who I really am now , who that child was , and not caring if me and the child would ever meet again , talk again , be one again .

But today , the dusty clouds have parted a little , and a long forgotten , once familiar sound of a child has managed to flow in like the first rays of a winter dawn. And the voice says “I wanted be a good human beeng . Why have you become this ? Don’t you remember me ? ” And today , the grown up man wants to listen to that child , and believe in that child , and be that child . Because after a long time , he has found a friend who believes in being good more than being better . Who wants to help a million hands rather than control a million people . A friend , who looks at the world from the selfless eyes of that child I once was , without the layers of selfishness this life wraps around us adults . A friend , who gives me a strength and direction , not by loving me , but by being who she is . A friend , who gives me the confidence that I can find myself , because I see a part of me in her . A friend , who more than being loved , is worthy of being respected .

The white cloud of simplicity I have found gives me the strength to try to be that child again , to realize who I really am , and to be good again.

I know people will read this . Some people who think I am not a good man . Some people who think I am not practical enough . Some people who think I will change , and probably would forget these words soon enough . Some people who think I do not have the courage to be who I say I want to be . Some people who think I do not know what I really want to be . Some people who would not understand , and will think I do not understand.

All I can say is , I know what this means to me . And I do not expect many to understand what this means to me . Thanks to you , friend , I am talking to that child again . I had some good people with me always , but before you came along , I had given up on trying to be who I really wanted to be . Even though I do not have that brown little notebook today , that page has not been clearer to me before today . And I will be a good human “beeng” . Maybe not faster . Maybe not sharper . Maybe not a winner for the world . But definitely a good human being .

~ To my many unseen , and some seen , friends here :

I know I have found the one I want to share my life with . I assure you she won't manage to make my posts any less stupid , but I know I will be happier . Since I have shared so much with you since I started this blog when I was 22 , I thought yeh to bata do !

Aap Kahin Sune Sune Lagte Hai..

The other day, I was talking to this friend, who by the way, is the only girl on this planet who can mimic a dog bark to a scaring level of perfection. I am told she once bit her Office cafeteria manager because he refused to include Doggy Bones in the Office Lunch Menu, so I really don’t know to what extent she carries the canine tendencies. But that’s not the point. The point is that we veered off to discussing the Filmy Dialogues we have grown up listening to. Incidentally , me and her , both grew up during the era of movies when Kimi Kaatkar was identified as the epitome of Feminine Elegance , and seven out of ten movies involved kids who watched their ‘ImaanDaar’ parents murdered from behind Huge Flower Pots and grew up to murder the killers after several years of scouting Bus Stops and Dance Bars for them . I mean , you get the idea of the era , yeah ?

So , shuru karein bakar , lekar Kaamdev ka Naam ( Abbe ! Kaamdev is a type of Prabhu , maine internet par pada hai !)

1. “Main tumhare Bacche ki Ma Banne wali hoon”

I first heard this statement during one of the movies , when I was six . I vaguely remember some demure Gaon Ki Gori saying this to Pran , who , obviously , had this roving eye and tried to grab anything which showed any movement.

At that age , I had no idea what that meant , and I instinctively thought , “Tumhara Baccha ? But babies to God ke hotein hai na?”.

As I grew up , I think I have heard this statement being said to men such as Ranjeet , Sadashiv Amrapurkar , Amrish Puri ( On more than three occasions ) , and Shakti Kapoor . Obviously , everytime , the reply is “Gira Do” , but notwithstanding if the lady chooses to say ‘Nahi ! Main isse paaloongi , you Pig’ or a more compromising ‘Ok , that’s cool.’ , this remains one of the most overused statements.

2. “Tumhari Ma aur Behan Mere Kabze mein hai”

Now , I really think all the mothers and sisters of that era , went around tapping all the bad guys on their shoulders , smiling coyly , and whispering “Hey Handsome , wanna kidnap me , eh ?”

How else can I explain that towards the end of almost every movie , the bad guy called up the Hero on his landline ( It’s the pre 1991 era dude , don’t expect a cellphone ) , and informs him that his White Clad Mother and Young College Going Sister have been kidnapped and have been comfortably chained between thick pillars at some abandoned remains of some Haveli.

I mean , Yeh Ma aur Behan hamesha Kidnapping ke liye available kaise rehti thi ?? I mean , if I was Hero in that time of the century , and the villain called me up to inform about their kidnappings , I would have said “Abbe Shit ! Fir kidnap ho gayi !! Ab ki baar tu hee rakh le , main nahi aunga !! Tang aa gaya hoon !!.”

3. “You are under arrest”

This used to the director’s signal , ki bhaiyya , the movie is about to end , please plan to gather your water bottles , chip bags , kids , and move out the cinema hall before the exit gets too crowded . In short , Inspector saab and his gang of Brown Shorts wale Hawaldaars have barged into the final fight scene , have pointed their cheap , Holi Wali pistols at the baddies , and the Inspector Saab has quipped the line which is the dream statement of every policeman who has ever walked this planet – “You are under arrest”. The only scene which could possibly follow this statement was a shot of the Hero and Heroine kissing under an Overgrown Pink Flower with “Happily ever after….” Written at the bottom of the screen .

4. “Main Teri Asli Ma Nahi hoon , Beta”

If there was ever a phase when non-biological mothers flourished , this was it . Kids swapped at the local hospitals , kids left crying on the stairs to the century old Shiv Mandir , little babies found squealing in trash bins , you name the way to find a kid who is not yours , and it was in there .

The mother raised the kid , made her do his homework , combed his hair , taught him how to ride the tricycle , and then watch him grow into a fine young man . But then , as she gets older and older , and as she finally reaches her deathbed , she calls the young man , looks at him lovingly , and with the heart breaking mix of love and guilt , murmurs , “Main Teri Asli Ma Nahi hoon , Beta”

The hero sits stunned , not knowing what to say , except maybe “Shit ! Does that mean I don’t get all that property you have ?”

Ok , you know the hero doesn’t say that yaar . Movie hai . Hero Accha Banda hai .


To be Continued …( Abbe , TV Serial mein ‘To be continued’ nahi dekhta ? Come on , you expect a guy to spend all day play solitaire at his office , and then come back home and write all that in one go ? )

Baad mein aur likhunga Bhai . And haan , you contribute whatever you can think of . I love interactive blogging ! Sabse mast dialogue report karne wale ko meri left kidney ! Muft ! Wo bhee polythene mein packed ! )

Title nahi hai Baba . Aage Bado .

Today being a Sunday , I spent 76.32% of my day in bed . ( Notice we MBA types , har cheez ko 2 decimal places tak specify karte hai . Meri kaamwali ki age hai 23.48 years hai ).

So during one of the innumerable “karwats” I katofyed during the day , I suddenly stumbled upon this beautiful sight on the other half of my bed . ( Don’t ask me why I have a double bed in spite of being a bachelor . Long Term Planning has been my hallmark since childhood.)





Now , I swear Geeta par haath rakh kar ( Waise Geeta par haath rakhunga to Geeta ko koi objection nahi hoga ? ) , I did not change / arrange / manipulate anything in the visually appealing stting captured in the photograph above.

PS – That round black shiny thing in the back is my helmet , and one of the very few non edible things in the picture . I tried chewing on it once , though . Things a hungry man can do.

And for the first time in a long time , I just paused , captivated by the abstract beauty of the scene , mesmerized by the way the light bounced off the torn Kurkure Bag , and I realized , that I need to clean my room today .

So Ladies , Gentlemen and Karan Johars , I hereby wish to inform you , with great pride , and a jhadoo in my hand , that I have cleaned out my room today , and it looks sparkling now .

In fact , as my landlord spotted me sweeping the floor of my room during the said event , he actually commented something about the sun rising in the west today , or something equally impossible . Very smart . I think I need to molest his younger son to teach him a lesson now.

In other news , the probability of me getting engaged is at its raging mad peak now . Mai kisi bhee waqt paraya credit card ban sakta hoon . So I once again appeal to all the ladies who have been secretly admiring me from behind pillars , ghoonghats , bushes , trees and other places of hiding , to please step out and declare your undying love towards my bank balance , C grade and misunderstood brand of humor , and now , newly developed husband-ish skill of cleaning rooms. I personally believe that I am one of the last remaining specimen of Men who have that finely balanced personality mix of Akshay Kumar , George Clooney and Guddu Rangeela . What , Guddu Rangeela who ? Arre bhai , Guddu . Apna Guddu ! The famous Bhojpuri Actor who just demonstrated his skills in the smash hit bhojpuri flick , Daroga Babu Bade Kadak . I think I dance exactly like him.

Anyway , coming back to the appeal , you need to act now , ladies . Guys , if you are adequately rich , you can push in an application too .

On the movie consumption issue , my last view was Ghajini . I liked the movie so much , I have “Submit Shampoo Sales Report to Boss” on the left part of my chest , “Bike ka pollution Check karwana hai” on my right forearm and my gmail password in a place more inaccessible . Password hai yaar , zyada secret place par hona chahiye na.

About Delhi 6 , I really don’t think this movie will bring a Khushiyon ki Bahaar in my life , but I want to take my mother to this movie , because she spent her childhood in Delhi 6 . She goes “Arre Munnu , yeh to mera area hai” just looking at the promos , and I know she will feel nice looking at all the galis and mohallas in the movie . You know , we humans never forget where we came from . I remember the zoo.

And as I write this , the download of this mp3 ends – ‘Gives You Hell’ by American All Rejects . Listen to it yaar . Very Boyish and Girl Hating . In case you want to disguise the lack of a girl in your life with that “Oh , who needs them , bro” types cool smirk , this song makes for a perfect background song . Try it , it works for me.

And did Abhishek Bacchan had a fake accent since the universe began , or he recently started to believe that he is a new Yorker who was accidentally born to an Indian family . Because I recently watched an interview of him on the TV , and he positively sounded like he had the entire dvd collection of American Pie Series for Breakfast .

Anyway , I need to go now . Raat ke 3 baj rahe hai mere aaka . I know this is not a coherent end . But oye , I am not a writer yaar . I just tell you what’s happening with me . Koi itna honest banda hoga jo apne kamre ka kachra dikahyega tujhe ? :P

Rashmi F 26 . Tussi Yaad aoge .

My finger slided down and rested on the name . Rashmi F 26 . Seat 44 .

It was like one of those Uday Chopra Fantasies from Dhoom . Me and Rashmi F 26 on a bike with our two golu molu kids stuffed between us Me and Rashmi F 26 running around trees and bushes and ponds . Me and Rashmi F 26 doing a lot of stuff commonly captured in the pages of cheap hindi magazines . ( Have you grabbed the Jan edition of Madhur Kathayein ? For total satisfaction :p ) .

I snapped out of the Chopraish Fantasy , thanked god for granting me the luck to have a young lady next to me on this train , and granting me the wisdom to take a bath earlier this day ( Yup , I read on the internet that hygiene ranks pretty high on the list of attributes women want in a man . I have spent 60% of my waking hours in a bathroom post that article ).

Two hours later , as I sit scruched in Seat 45 of Coach 10 , Shatabadi , I have a newsbreak for you – Rashmi F 26 has been exchanged seats with a Bald-Guy-Who-Snores-and-sleeps-with-open-mouth M 45ish . Abbe saale , yehi seat mili thee tujhe exchange scheme chalane ke liye ?? Rashmi F 26 to seat 49 par settle ho gayi…Oh shucks , he just turned his head towards me and I think the warm gusts of air I feel on the back of my neck are his breaths . Definitely no Uday Chopra fantasies right now . Jhonka Hawa Ka seems an incredibly meaningful song right now .

Talking of music , I recently chanced upon this from Billu Barber –

Love Mera Hit Hit
Tu fir kaisi Khit Pit
Tu Baby Badi Fit Fit
Fir Kyun aisi Khit Pit

Now , I would like to declare my total commitment to this song . I mean , its on my ipod and if Rashmi F 26 would have seated next to me today , I would have looked into her Cheel , err, Jheel See Aankhein and said “Tu baby badi fit fit” . But I really wonder what kinda time is consumed in writing such lyrics .

I mean , I can imagine ..

Song Writers wife : Suno Jee , kya subah se Chaarpai tod rahe ho . Chalo , utho aur naha lo . Maine geyser on kar diya hai , 15 minute mein paani garam ho jayega .

Song Writer ( Jo Chaadar lapete charpai par leta hai ) : Offo , tum bhee na bhaagwan….accha chalo ek paper aur pen de do

Song Writers wife : Arre maine kaha na , 15 minute mein paani garam ho jayega . Abhi likhne kyun baith rahe ho ?

Song Writer : Offo , behas karna to tumhari aadat hai . Paper Pen do , 15 minute mein main Billu Barber ke liye 6 gaane likh deta hoon . Wo director roz poochta hai .

But at the same time , I am genuinely floored by Dev D songs . I mean , I am sure 90% of the guys , who , by the way , have been cheated / spurned / “Used-for-shopping-Movie-Coffee Bills” by females at some point or another would feel “emotional atyachaar” is their own aatmas singing . The balance 10% of the guys are still not enlightened about the futility of paying for the movie tickets .

And main note kar raha tha , after 5 years of starting this blog , I still get an average of 80-120 comments on a post . Though not quite the one to write for comments ( Hum to wo Selfish Praani hai jo Bhikhai Baba ka Katora Cheen ke Bech de , tumhare liye kya likhenge ) , I am amazed by the fact that some of you are kind enough to actually state that you like reading what I write . Some day I would love to meet some people I know only through their comments . Probably , like they have created an image of me in their minds ,I have their images in my mind , And meeting them before it’s too late would help me leave this earth with more “Chain Se” ( This phrase has been picked up from numerous Hindi Movies where the Ladki ka Baap says “Bass Beti , ab tere haath peele ho jaye to tera yeh booda baap chain se duniya chod payega” .)

Sansani Khabar – Guy on Rashmi F 26’s seat just pushed his elbow in my back . I think I am being victimized under “Inappropriate touching by a sleeping man” act here .

Aur to bass yaar , these days I am under the ‘Main Kabhi Shaadi nahi karunga” mind blanket . Seriously man , if someday I tell you the kind of emotional ups / downs ,/ round and round I have been through starting at age 22 , you will know what I mean . Kasam Banane wale ki , you will wet my sofa with your tears and cry out “Ab bass bhee kar , aur kitna rulayega” by the time I reach what happened to me in the college canteen at Age 24 .

Chalo yaaro , abhi Kat Leta Hoon . ( Is that a Delhi Thing to say “Kat Leta Hoon” ? My colleagues in Punjab just cant get this ) . Laptop Battery is near death , and more importantly , I need to get up from this before this guy on Rashmi F 26 ki seat leaves me brain damaged with his snoring . Abhi yahan Rashmi F 26 hoti to humne to apne baccho ke naam bhee rakh liye hotein . Kyun Bhagwaan , aakhir kyun ?

When the sun goes down on me

So I don't talk about you anymore
And they say things will be better than before
So I live another day , hoping they are right
But now , I lie awake , in this cold November night

I think about you and I believe
that when it's time for me to leave
And the sounds of life are defeated by a silent grace
I , my friend , will want to see your face

You trusted me without a why
And I said I am your shade when the sun is high
You just smiled and did not doubt
My false promises kept the reality out


But when the wolves arrived , you saw me depart
And now , the shards of those promises bleed my heart
and When the lady called life loosens her embrace
I , my friend , will want to see your face

Do you hate me now , I do not know
Do you regret knowing a man so shallow
Does it disgust you to remember my voice
Will you live it again , if given a choice

I think you wont , And I see the reason
But I still wish , though guilty of treason
And when the glow of a setting sun fills the space
I , my friend , will want to see your face

You dont let go of your dreams
For a whisper of love can drown all the screams
I know that to talk of love , I have no right
But sometimes you see something only when it is out of sight

So wherever you are , give love another chance
Let it fill your heart , do it's divine dance
As for me ..when the angels of death carry me to a darker place
I , my friend , will want to see your face

* Added Later , after seven people mailed me saying Suicide is not a great thing to attempt *

Whoa ! Chill Yaaro . There was a bunch of really verbal Punjabi dogs right outside my window at 4.30 in the morning , and since they wont let me sleep , decided to see if I can rhyme words . So chill . It takes something as grave as back to back screenings of Karz and Phoonk to depress me . Dissociations with the female variety of Homo Sapiens aint that bad for me . And all the angry guys commenting here , You are always fun to have around .

Somebodyz Back.

So this has been my longest stay away from the blog . And over the last two months , my personal life has dipped to an all time low. I never thought I would transform into this work zombie whose highest point of the day is a 46 year old housewife from Bhatinda telling him she liked the fragrance of the shampoo he sells .

But I realized this had happened when my mother called me up three days ago and this happened –

Me: “Hi Ma.”

Ma: “Accha sun, surgery theek ho gayi.”

Me: “Surgery? What Surgery?”

Ma: Pause. I told you.

Me: No, you must have dreamt about telling me. It happens at your age.

Ma: “Chup reh. Your dad had this thing at the dentist today. He is fine now. No pain as yet, though he is on anesthesia.”

I understand it was no big surgery with the little red bulb above the room’s door and restless relatives sitting on benches outside and the filmy “Hum poori koshish kar rahe hai” from the doctor. But still, there were blades and there was blood and there was a pretty heavy bill. My mother told me about it. And it was just wiped off my memory. I remembered that I had to mail my boss that report which was already a couple of days late , but I did not remember about my dad.

So it’s time I remember the phrase from Spiderman 3 – “You always have a choice”, and start making the right choices instead of being the guy who talks about soap ingredients* on a date**. (*I sell Soaps and Shampoos for a living, hence the soap ingredients part.** Being very optimistic , I assume I get a date .) And it’s not only about the family. I have been losing friends faster than you would lose your cool if there was a porcupine inside your pants. Most of my friends don’t call me anymore, and those who do, call me a jerk. I mean, I have been compared to a wooden chair in context of my sensitivity levels, and the wooden chair has won invariably . And to be honest, which I have seldom been, not in the college exams at least, I do not blame any of my friends, or ex-friends. I am not proud of the guy I have been lately. Those who have still stuck to me in spite of me should be brand ambassadors for Fevicol.

But while I have been busy killing my personal life and discovering the pathway to a life of lonely existence and talking to the pet dog , my parents have been busy trying to bring it back to life. Last month, they ran an ad in a newspaper matrimonial ( I know , what kinda guy participates in an arranged wedding in an age when fourteen year olds have their own sports bikes and eight year old girls want to dress up like Kareena Kapoor ? Well , a guy who is no more enamored by the external beauty and just wants a rich lady now . my kinda guy ) . My sister had serious reservations against the act, because she thought the ad was incomplete without the adjectives ‘Uncaring, Unshaven, and can kill for the TV remote” in it. Now, the problem with trying to find a wife through this route is , that unless you meet the girl , you think she is extremely beautiful , can be in the Limca Book of Records with her talents , and is a total delight to be with . I mean , I expect no one to tell me that she looks beautiful unless the make up washes off , hates guys with their mothers alive , and is totally delighted once she grabs holds of someone else’s credit card. Not that I want a girl with or without any particular attribute , but the net problem with an arranged marriage is that people are not themselves till it may be too late to do anything about it . I mean, she may be smiling at me and thinking “I think I want to stab him with a pencil immediately.” And the same for the girl .I am sure she will have her apprehensions, which will be aggravated when she watches me laugh at cheap jokes and eat with my hands. So, the way things are going, things should get fun .At least for you.

In fact, talking of marriage, the more I learn, the more I believe that a marriage needs to be lived through before we know it’s good or bad. It’s a profound statement, so I think I will shut up and just let you admire the pearls of wisdom that I shower upon you. By the way , you remember me promising to start making the right choices about twenty lines above ? Well , as a start , I have come home this Sunday and am going out with family to a show of Rock On now . The last movie I happened to watch , nah , subject myself to , was ‘Ugly and Pagli’ ( No , don’t even ask what made me did it . And don’t even ask what that movie did to me. ), and I definitely need something good to restore my faith in the movie making capabilities of bollywood directors.

And my parents definitely need something good to start believing that their boy can still appreciate a day without a laptop, sales projections and pink slip warnings in it.

We will talk again , soon.