Aiwen Hee Bakwaas Hai

• I went to see the Delhi Daredevils vs Bangalore Royal Challengers IPL match at Ferozeshah Kotla some time back . And it was very confusing . For one , all the teams are so mixed up these days . Ishant bowls , Kallis Hits , Ponting catches , Ganguly Appeals and Shoaib Akhtar celebrates . Logic ki to hatya hee kar dee hai ! And then the giant screen at the ground was not working . Some eight minutes into the match , the batsman was given out LBW by the umpire .

Me - "Oye , kaun out hua ?"

Buddy - "Oh shit , Sehwag gaya !"

Me - Sehwaag ? Wo to non striker end pe khada hai yaar . Wo dekh , usee ke jaisa lag raha hai.

Sardaarji on adjecent seat - Oh jee Rohit Sharma gaya hai . Kameena hai , ullu da phatta out ho jaata hai .

Me - Rohit Sharma ? Wo Delhi ki Team mein hai ?

Buddy - O Sardaarji Rohit to kissi aur team mein hai ..wo kaunsee team hai laal kapdo waali ?

Me - Ruk Yaar , ghar pe fone karta hoon , wo TV par dekh kar bata denge .

All this while , a bunch of guys behind us are depressed over the dismissal of Gautam Gambhir while the couple of aunties sitting ahead of us are trying to find out which team is batting .

Future Plan of action - Kabhi Stadium mein match dekhne jaio , to either borrow that telescope from your uncle who works for NASA , or request the bastmen to take off their helmets so that we can know who is who .

• I have been posted to Chandigarh for the next one year . Reactions to the news :
  

Mummy : "Offo , wahan Maggi mat khaata rahio "

Papa : " Sirf ek saal ?"

Sister : " Yaayy !"

Mausi : "Ab isko shaadi kar do."

Guy friends : "Chandigarh kee bandiyan mast hoti hai ."

Friends who are girls : "Udhar kee bandiyon se bach kar rahiyo ."

Boss : "Jaan chootee"

Would Be Boss : "Why me ??"

• Earlier this day , the kaamwali quit the job . So my mother is carrying an expression like she just found a pouch of cocaine in my laptop bag . It's crisis time in homeville.
• Did Salman Khan and Shoaib Akhtar grow up as chaddi buddies in "YouAssAye" ? Their fake accents put Star Movies and HBO to shame. That reminds me , a friend accused me of saying a 'Hello' on fone in a fake accent recently . Just adds one more commonality between Me , Salman and Shoaib . Dekte raiyye Sonee Ennertaynmen Chaaynayl.
• Recently got all the seasons of Jackass , an insane show which ran on MTV some years back . It's ridiculous , it's crazy , it's gross . So it's fun . In one episode , the Jackass guys drive down to a town called 'Mianus' and catch hold of a lady who runs a grocery store there . Now the lady has no idea who this guy is and the guy tells her he wants to find more about 'Mianus' as he may shift in.
  Jackass guy : "So , you sell stuff in my anus "

Lady : "Yeah , I do"

Jackass guy : "Ok , so what is it like in my anus"

Lady : " Well , it is sleepy little place

The entrance is surrounded by fences and.."

Jackass guy : "The entrance to My anus is surrounded by fences ?"

Lady : "Yeah"

Jackass guy : "What else ?"

Lady : "Ah , a lot of wealthy people have houses here . Mel Sibson has a house here ."

Jackass guy : "Wow , Mel Gibson got a house in my anus ! And do you live in my anus ?"

Lady : "No . But I commute every day ."

Jackass guy : " Ok , right , you commute every day to my anus. Good for you ."

And the Jackass Guy did this with a face as expressionless as teak , so it was huge fun to look at. Gross and distasteful , I know . But fun .

• Have you used Vivel ? That "Kareena wala saabun" , as most of the women tell me . Kaisa laga ? Mast ? Jhakkas ? I wonder is someone has asked ever for some consumer feedback in such a casual manner . Logical question - why do I ask ? Logical answer - I work for that company . Assistant Manager (Personal care) , reporting , Sir !
• There is something wrong with our Office network , and I have been getting spam mails on the Office Email . Last week , got an email with the subject line "This Blue Pill can help you have a long fiesta with your chicks" . I forwarded the mail to a colleague adding "Hey , this is for you" to it. Last heard , he has actually ordered them.
• Why do politicians visit the sites of explosions after some bomb blasts take place ? Do they expect that the terrorists would be still hiding behind bushes over there and the minister would just point out and shout - "Wo dekha , wo raha Mohhamad Al Sami !! Wo dekho amrood ki Jhaadi ke peeche baitha hai bandook pakde !! Pakad lo kambaqth ko !!"
• Without sounding like a very close associate of Baba Ramdev , I am seriously amazed by the number of people who go around living their lives under stress , anger and too much seriousness . Brooding over lost love , worrying about a job , scared by a boss . I mean , too many people believe that what they do or what has happened to them is important and big enough to keep the planet rotating on its axis . And I can not understand if they dont want to live a more cool life , or they dont know how to ? I know life gives out different circumstances to each of us , but too many of us can use the circumstances in a better way than they actually do . So many of us are busy and stressed out chasing that pot of gold which may turn out to be a shit pot , after all .
  

Post Title coming up in Ten Minutes

No seriously, I don’t know if this classifies me as a handicapped person , but I can not type stuff about a particular single topic. I mean, people leave comments saying the blog lacks direction , is shallow and contains content stupid enough to make Govinda look like a philosopher . But after twenty minutes of trying to write something sensible , like something which expresses my concern over HIV infected kids in Rwanda , or something which tries to tell the world that we must save the blue whales before they are all dead , I decided that there are enough pillars of the society to do that , and I also decided that I am hungry .

So now as I munch on a pack of Hide and Seek, I think I will just talk whatever I want to even if it makes me look as intelligent as Sameera Reddy and leaves you sick in the stomach.

For one , what’s wrong with Aaj Tak people ? I mean , I had a feeling they were pretty low on news the day I saw a 30 minute capsule named “Yeh kaisa rishta” which was about a female monkey in Madhya Pradesh which was bringing up half a dozen pups and picking their lice and feeding them her own milk ( As if I have ever seen a monkey buying polypacks from a mother dairy). But if someone was to watch Aaj Tak over the last 15 days , he would be absolutely confident that the only man who is left on the face of this earth is the Great Khali , the mahabali Darinda , ‘Jo apne dushmano ko kuchal deta hai’ , ‘Jiska naam sunte hee uske dushmano ki aatma kaanp jaati hai’ , and , I heard this yesterday , ‘Jo duss babbar shero jitna taakatwar hai’ . Oh , by the way , if you don’t know who Khali is , he is a WWE wrestler of Indian Origin who is 7’3” , weighs 190 kgs and you should be very happy you don’t owe him any money. I guess Khali would discover a lot of information about himself if he starts watching Aaj Tak regularly.

"HeeeHawww , Now this son of a lady dinosaur is standing on my left foot , and I need to be on another floor to reach his ear , so lets just Grin and Bear it"

Also , I watched ‘Race’ at a Gurgaon multiplex recently . To cut it short , and to save 175 bucks on the ticket and 85 bucks on the burger + coke , it’s a movie where everybody is evil with a head bubbling with deadly plans , everybody is in bed with somebody , and everybody is driving an exotic car which costs around fifty times my expected lifetime earnings . But the movie left me with a very disturbing message – “You wanna be a winner ? Please kill those morals first” . I mean , if I would have watched that movie when I was six , I would have grown up thinking that being truthful is an insult . Not that I am a Harishchandra-2 , but the people in the flick do not even try. Of course , there is one another image from the movie which will not leave me till I breathe my last – That of a topless Akshaye Khanna standing chest facing towards the camera . At least three XL sized sweaters could have been knitted out of the hair on his chest, I swear. Add Anil Kapoor to that , and you have the raw material for the complete winter collection of Rohit ‘Bal’ .

And ever since Arjun Singh has played around with the quotas , my mother has been wandering around the house murmuring “Jaane munnu ke baccho ka admission kaise hoga” . Munnu is me , and that means she is already worried if my kids would be able to go to schools and colleges with the kind of direction this country is headed to . No offences , but over my schooling , engineering and MBA , there have been numerous occasions when students from the reserved categories have made it while far smarter and deserving ones have been left in the cold. It’s all too moving to read about the son of the rickshaw puller who made it to Infosys , but what about the guy from the general category who had double the brains but could not get into a decent engineering college because the rickshaw puller’s son got in through the quota ? I am sure that one day, there will be little kids dropping years to get into nursery class. By the way , coming to think of it , I actually wonder how my kids will make it to a good college anyway , especially if they inherit my IQ. But seriously , I think some day , Mrs Malhotra and Mrs Taneja would be having this conversation over the paneer pakodas at a kitty party ..

Mrs Malhotra : So Miss Taneja , ab to Bittoo 4 saal ka ho gaya hoga ?

Mrs Taneja : Haan abhi March mein 4 saal ka hua hai , ab serious hone laga hai life mein..

Mrs Malhotra : Haan Jee , abhi to age hai mehnat karne kee….wo Mrs Sharma ki beti Pinky ko nahi dekha , teen saal se nursery entrance exam de rahee hai …determination , nah ?

Mrs Taneja : Ab dekho kya hota hai , Bittoo bhee 8 saal ki age tak to try karega nursery mein entrance kee , warna fir OBC certificate banwana hoga …Bittoo ke papa keh rahe the tab tak itni savings ho jayegi ki ek certificate aa jaye installments par…

Mrs Malhotra : Haan jee , All the best keh dena Bittoo ko !!

And before logging off, here is a snap of the ‘entertainment’ page from MetroNow , a newspaper which comes to my home . Abb Aapkee Maut , Humara Manoranjan ! If you plan to die sometime soon , make sure to let the MetroNow people know . They got some space in the comic strip section too !

Coming Back to Life , minus Office

I knew I needed a break from office and an urgent trip to Mauritius with a couple of blonde girls the moment I read my previous post. It looked like it had been typed by a guy aggressive enough to make Andrew Symonds look like a messenger of peace with a couple of white doves perched on his shoulders . So I decided to take a break and am on the second day of a two weeks leave from office. And before you ask , I scrapped that ‘Mauritius with the blonde girls’ plan . Enough of blondes, you see.

Anyway, now you visualize me spending the break watching TV, sprawled on a couch, with the left hand lazily swooping popcorns off a big plastic bowl and the right hand gripping the remote, and I think your visualization captures my plans beautifully. But I also intend to make some meaningful acts , which compare well with the discovery of fire , Mallika Sherawat and other such things in terms of their impact on mankind. For example , I need to watch my weight now . I mean , little kids are not exactly pointing fingers at me and yelling ‘Look mama , that ball has legs !” , but a little bit of physical activity never killed anybody , unless that activity resulted in pissing off Mike Tyson . So I have been shooting baskets and just dribbling the ball a little in the porch of my home . I am not sure if I have broken a sweat yet , but I am sure I have broken a couple of flower pots placed around the porch .

And I am reading Shahrukh Khan’s biography these days . In a book store setting where the lady standing to my right was browsing through ‘A brief history of time’ by Stephen Hawking and a guy behind me was reaching out for some book on the Indian economy , it is not very elite to pick up a book about bollywood . It’s like picking up the bumper issue of ‘Filmi Kaliyaan’ when the world around you is discussing global warming . But I am liking this book . His obsessive love for Gauri during his younger days as described in the book reminds me of my own feelings for my class III English Grammer teacher . No wonder I could not focus on the Grammer Lessons she taught and the results can being see even today .

And coming back to the need for a break , I think I was beginning to lose the clarity of thinking which has been a hallmark of my existence since childhood , besides a need for movies and eating . I was beginning to lose the wisdom to distinguish a thing I can change from what I can not change. For example , I was spending time feeling bad about the fact that I had some irritating people around me at work instead of understanding that it is a thing I can not change , unless I had a gun , which I don’t . So I have made it into a personal objective to further instill this understanding in my daily life over the time to come.

And last weekend, I went to Ludhiana with five of my IIM batch mates for a friend’s wedding. Pretty close friend. In fact he is the guy who, during my IIM days, introduced me to Babbu Maan’s music videos and other ways to be unpopular with girls. Just to provide another instance, during one of our hostel parties , me and him forced the DJ to play ‘Kaala Chashma’ four times in a row which firmly established us as totally rustic in the minds of most of the IIM students with their more delicate tastes in music and art .

But what unsettled me was that this friend, who had a huge disregard for any kind of societal opinions for himself, looked more flustered than a nine year old boy stuck in the backseat of Michael Jackson’s car during his wedding . Some hours before the wedding, he told me ‘I hope I am doing the right thing.’ I looked up from the glass of orange juice ( Note – Another fluid has been replaced with Orange Juice for the purpose of this post ) , and said “Bhai , I don’t know if you are doing a right thing or a wrong thing , but you are definitely doing it , because now I have spent my money buying you a wedding present , and I am not going back for a refund.” So he went ahead with it and is in Egypt now on his honeymoon .One of the few chaps who went to a ‘mummy’ when most of us would never want our mothers around on our honeymoons.

But I really don’t blame the guy for being a bit unsettled about his choices. At the ripe age of 26 , when I have spent the last few years exploring the maze of human relations using the tried and tested method of personal experience with disastrous consequences , I can only say one thing about marriage – You find out if it was a good decision or a bad one only twenty five years after the wedding , if not more . If you think that’s a pretty intelligent thing I have said, don’t, because I read it somewhere .Mark Twain maybe. Appreciate my honesty, now.

Chalo yaar , you don’t expect me to spend my vacations typing away on a laptop . And before I go back , I want to ask you a thing . If you look back at all the comments I have received from you over the last almost four years I have been blogging , around ninety percent of them would make my parents feel like they have been blessed with a boy of outstanding qualities . Of course , there have been some who have explained to me in no subtle terms that I should be in cage suspended over the Pacific Ocean . But in my heart , I feel that all of you have been incredibly kind to me over all this time . So this time around , I want you to be more honest and tell me what you don’t like about me . If you feel there is something about me you don’t like , tell me . I don’t promise you that I will attempt to change myself , but I promise you I will attempt to find out where you live and stab you when you are out on your morning walk . Ok chill , seriously , tell me what you hate about me . I won’t kill you . Keep smiling.

Seedhi Baat.All Bakwaas.

• I have ended some 'relations' , if I may use the word in a non scandolous way . I know it's cruel , callous and insensitive in a way , but I need to end what's not working out , atleast for me. It was draining me out and leading down an alley which had an end more dead than Abraham Lincoln is . I know I am being bad by cutting off from it . Makes me a not-so-nice guy . But if you want to save the baby from hepatitis , you need to stick a needle in his bottoms . What other analogy do you expect from a doctor's son. And for the record , I think romantic love is an illusion created by exaggerated hormone play which serves the movie industry and misleads the impressionable youth .
  
• Have become incredibly assertive at work . Am shooting off mails which rattle up people the way a rattlesnake in your soup would rattle you . Got into a sharp debate with a brand manager last week .Took apart an office boy who was taking his time checking if my courier had come in. Diving to a deeper level , I am tired of people walking all over me , and I am letting them know I don't like it . And bad news for them , I am liking letting them know .
  
• I am transforming into a workaholic . The types who have their cars in the office parking lot when all the other ones have left . Have taken a total of four days off since June 2007 . Monday is no more a scary day . I send out office mails almost every Sunday . Two weeks ago , sent a mail to boss at 1.50 am . He stamped into my cabin next morning and insisted that I get a girlfriend. Not that I want to be on the cover of Time . But I like working .
  
• I regret not helping a kid who wanted help with her school farewell speech . I said I will help out , then totally lost track of that . If they had a record for the number of promises broken , my picture would be in the Guiness Book . Front cover . Full color.
  
• I zipped past a biker so close yesterday , I think his shirt still got car paint on it. He was high on DVDs of Dhoom series . Was doing that wavy zig zag thing ahead of my car and not letting me pass . I quit honking , switched the gear and zipped right past him , leaving around half an inch between my car and him . And I did it with a smirk . Music does it . Rock on the car radio . And I am a Salman Khan on the road . You better not sleep on the pavement outside your home .
  
• I have stopped using my iPod . I like the radio more . More unpredictable . More talkative. And cheaper than an iPod .
  
• I love my family more than anything and will stab for them . A female at my office called me a mama's boy when she heard me saying "Will leave office in 10 minutes , ma" on phone . I said "Yeah , I am a mama's boy . I love my mom . And I totally understand it if people from your side of the world eat their mothers , but we dont .We love them all our lives." I actually said that . If you ever needed to understand what a stunned woman looks like , you should have been there .
  
• Why does everybody in the conference room laugh when the big boss cracks an intended joke ? I did not find it funny . A funeral is more funny than his joke was . But the guy on my left slapped the table twice and roared . Another one could not stop giggling for a complete forty seconds . I mean , was it in the terms and agreement when they joined ?
  
• Some time ago , a friend of mine , who seems to be a male from what I know of him , commented that I am a lovable person . I still have not decided if that is to be classified as a compliment or a gayish attempt at molestation .
• Nineteen months of corporate world . And I am almost into the habit of thinking in bullets . I think you have an idea of that.

Who needs a title .

Well , I know , I know . It’s been almost two months since something breathed on this blog. Struck by an acute case of ‘I miss him’ , around a dozen girls all over the country have killed themselves , another seven are being rushed to hospital as we speak , and I can’t even count the ones who are out on Sunday shopping for nylon ropes and rat poison pills right now . But here I am , so chill , breathe and smile , for I am still single and confused.

Anyways , a lot of water has flown under the bridge since I last wrote ( I know , my usage of English idioms is exemplary . Zabardast. ).

Things have been happening at work , in personal life , at home . Like right now , there is this domestic problem at my home – Last Friday , my sister’s iPod has been stolen . Now , under normal circumstances , if anything goes missing in my home or in a radius of 20 kilometers around it , my mother just walks up to me and says “Where is it ? Bata kalmoohe ! Tell me if you want to get dinner ! ”

But this time around, I am clean, because when the thing went missing, I was busy coloring excel sheets at office. So after re-watching the six CD collection of Byomkesh Bakshi and stung by the prospect of having to live a life without music, my sister declared that it was the ‘kaam wali’* who has stolen the iPod. Not me , not the postman , not the milkman , but the most important person in the history of Indian womankind – The KaamWali .


*Kaamwali= The maid . You know , the lady who cleans up your home , washes the dishes and is loved by your mother more than you are .


Now, all of you have hopefully grown up in Indian households, and it is an insult to your intelligence if I start telling you how important a peg a ‘kaam wali’ is in the workings of the world and your household , in particular . Just to provide an illustrative example, my mother once threw a five year old me off the balcony because I called the maid a ‘moti’. And she actually was so fat .

So coming back to the case of the missing iPod, my mother has taken an immediate offence to my sister accusing the kaamwali, and if my sister was still a child, she would have been flying out of a balcony too. Ma has refused to question the kaamwali and has warned anyone in the household against doing so with drastic consequences including self immolation and totally screwed salt amounts in food. Infact just the next day of the mentioned incident, my sister claimed the kaamwali was humming ‘Summer of 69’ while doing the clothes , which was placed suspiciously on the iPod’s playlist too . But protected fiercely by mom , the kaamwali continues to roam around the house unfettered and my sister continues to hope she will have her revenge some day .

On a personal front , I guess things are never supposed to be smooth for a guy who is 26 and is staring at a future which is still as clear as the climax of an art movie (I don’t know about you , but I rarely understand how these art movies end . I mean , when ‘The Namesake’ ended , I was like “What ? Why are they turning on the lights ? Where is the rest of it ?”) . Things have been kinda intense on the personal front , but every time I think I know what I want and what will be good for everybody , I flip out two days later.

I mean, how do you know who is the ‘right’ person to be share a life with , or , as they say , marry ? I know I have already got a ‘Anti-Abhi Women’s Cell’ going all over the nation due to the emotional mess ups I have been through , but nobody understands that my own heart too looks like it was crossing a road and a truck hit it right where it hurts. Knowingly or unknowingly, I know I have hurt people, but it’s an emotional battering for me too. People , including those the closest to me , may dismiss it as a ‘Oh-it-happens-to-everybody’ , but I have had my share of dark clouds and I think I need to move someone to the center of my world (Right now , I got my parents and sister there) and build my life around it , make people happy , create a good life for everybody , you know , rainbows and butterflies . But before that, I need to decide who that person is, and that makes all my college exams look like little walks in a park.

About situation at work , after almost two years of corporate world including ‘Another one , and you are fired’ as well as ‘Great work , so unlike you !’ emails , all I can do is offer a big brotherly advice to those who are yet to order their business suits – Love your work .At least try to love it . But remember you are just a guy filling a job profile for them . The day you don’t punch out the right result , they are going to help you pack your stuff and take it home in a cardboard box . So know what is important.

Anyway, it’s a Sunday , and it’s time I check out what’s on HBO . I anyway need to move from here because the kaamwali needs to sweep this room, and she just gave me the ‘Move-you-unbathed-jerk-or-I-tell-your-mom-you-called-me-moti’ look. I don’t want to be flying out of a balcony anytime soon.

Hurry om Hurry !

To me , getting off a plane is always interesting . Besides giving me a chance to smuggle out the in flight magazine, It kinda reflects the times we live in . It goes like this . The tyres hit the strip with a slight thud , bouncing off the ground a couple of times and waking up the old women who had dozed off . The pressure of the air against its extended wings soon slows it down . It glides slowly on the strip , making a couple of lazy turns while some lady on the announcement thanks you for flying with them even though they made you wait 4 hours at the airport and tells you the temperature outside is way too low than you hope it is . Now the plane stops down . And then , the interesting part starts .

People jump off their seats , brushing their bottoms against each other faces . Uff . Excuse me . Watch it . Will you please pull off your suitcase off my toe ? Pulling open the flaps over their heads . Switching on their cellphones . Someone yells "What ? You havent sent the car ? What the hell! ". Before Anu Malik can steal another tune , most people stand scrunched in the aisle , all forming an untidy queue , looking with tense eyes towards the end of the plane , wondering why the doors aint opened yet .

I still lie pushed down in my seat , while maroon5 in my ears croons that she will be loved (Nice floating song .Chahiye to bol de. I hate piracy , starting tommorow)

And as I lie in my seat , watching people stand on each other's feet , I wonder , jaldi kya hai yaar ? This plane blows up in three minutes ?

So many people are in so much hurry . That guy in a silver Swift behind my car who is honking is in a hurry to get to his office ( Yaar overtake karte hue gaali kyun deta hai ? Accha hindi ki gaali to mat de ) . Students are in a hurry to read their chapters before they face the exams . My boss is in a hurry to get that report .That waiter at McDonalds is in a hurry to serve table number 4. People sitting at table number 4 are in a hurry to eat what comes to the table. People at the boarding gate are in a hurry to get onto the plane . When it lands , they are in a hurry to get out of it. Everybody is in a hurry to get somewhere . Few people want to stay in the moment they are in.

Now I don't know . Maybe these guys know where they want to get to. They see where they need to get to and they want to get there fast . You see , driven , focussed people. Achievers . Desh ko aage badane wale log. People you see shaking hands with white people on NDTV Profit . Maybe I am just a slow guy who likes to listen to music and type down words which interest nobody while the world around me reaches for the stars . You see , I don't have a problem with the 'wanting to achieve things' thing . Even I want to achieve things , even if they are a vegetable burger with cheese , and a TV remote , and someone who shares all that with me .

But what I don't understand is that why hurry ? Jaldi kya hai . Kidhar jaana hai ? I mean , life is not in the future . Life is now . This moment .I mean , it's like..

When I was in school , people told me happiness is getting 90% in board exams. We know that , kid .

When I got those 90% , they told me happiness was getting into a top engineering college. ( Note kiya , kitna intelligent hoon main ?)

When I got that , they told me that happiness is definitely getting into IIM. Pakka . Sachi . Muchi. Confirmed.

When I did that , happiness was defined as getting out of IIM and earning a salary which is in seven figures. Arre 100% happiness yehi hai . USA mein researchers bhee yehi kehte hai.

Now When I have done that , happiness is ? Hello ! What is it nowwww ? Bol do kaka . Kidhar jaana hai ab ?

So ladiesh and gentlemans , now that the world has been telling me what to do , this is what I have learnt - all the above stuff is important , but happiness is something they dont need to tell you about . It is something you feel . And only you decide what makes you happy . When others don't know where you want to be , how can they tell you how to get there ?

Like , for me , happiness is..

On a lazy Sunday , I watch a jim carrey flick on TV , eat a full lunch , and watch another jim carrey movie.

When ma asks me to take a bath and I put my arm around her shoulders and say "Chill , ma.Do dinn hee to hue hai."

When I say stupid things to someone who would not think "Huh? Isko problem kya hai?."

Sitting in my balcony on a December morning and eat an orange and squeeze the orange peel in the left eye of my sister. Right eye mein bhee .

Talking to someone who understands me , and accepts me even when I am all boring .

Playing chess with Papa , and beating him at it too . ( We dont do that anymore , he is tired of
losing)

Caring for someone I want to care for.

Meeting a bunch of friends over a couple of huge pizzas and crack pathetic jokes about our college professors and why worst guys get the best girls.

Happiness is just , being me .

So you see , what makes me happy is stuff I have not achieved , but stuff , which , I already have , had all the way along . So I know I need to achieve things , but hey , there is no hurry .Because I need to achieve things to survive , but to be happy , not much is needed . Some music and a vegetable burger , with cheese , will do just fine for now.

@Shalu - If you reading this , my best wishes for your wedding ! :)

Diwali Notes

There are few times when life gives you a breather, when you can look back at your life as you walk and drop quietly into an uncovered manhole in the process. For me, these three days away from office have been just that – A time to break away from the shampoo sales, reflect on the direction my life is heading in (Which, I discovered, may be heading right into a smelly pile of cow dung), and in a rather unusual moment, grab a ‘pooja ki thali’ so hot, my fingers still smolder like the venue of a fresh nuclear test.

And , of course , celebrate Diwali , the biggest festival of North India . It may leave the street dogs terrified. It may make people blow up crackers which cost half the entire GDP of Botswana . It may have burned down Mrs Chopra’s garden , as it did the year before last . But then, an year without Diwali is like a three feet deep bungee jump . Safe but no fun.

You know Diwali is around the corner when all the ladies in the colony arrange themselves in pairs and start discussing how to please the ‘kaamwali’ this year.

A typical conversation between ma and Mrs Kapoor , our neighbour , a day before Diwali..

Ma : Aapne soch liya ?
Kapoor : Main to soch rahee hoon aadhi kilo milkcake aur ek saaree theek rehegi . Kyun ?
Ma : Cotton ?
Kapoor : Haan .
Ma : Ab , aap dekh lo . Pichle saal Mrs Malhotra ne cotton saree dee thee shobha ko ..agle din hee bhaag gayi thee unka bone china collection chori kar ke..
Kapoor : Accha ? ! Chalo theek hai , silk kee le deti hoon ….milkcake to theek rahega na ?
Ma : Haan Haan , fresh hoga na ?
Kapoor : Bilkul ! Rohit ke papa personally jaakar laayenge..in maamlo mein I can not take a risk na !
Ma : Bass fir chinta kee baat nahi . Chalo abhi main jaati hoon , pata chale ki Mrs Chopra ne kya diya hai to batana ..

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The exchanging of sweets with friends and relatives is another domain which calls upon the recycling resources only a woman can possess- Chopra Ji gets the ‘burfi’ given by Gupta saab. The kurkure gift pack from Chopras finds a place in Kumar Uncle’s house. Junejas are the lucky recipients of ‘something’ we got from the Sharmas – did not open up the pack , so don’t know what. But a logical thinking mechanism is indispensable here.If possible , a diagrammatic representation should be used here. Because one little lapse of concentration can be very hard to accept for the Kapoors who ended up getting a ten pack set of Real Juices from us , which they had gifted to the Kumars .

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Also , firecrackers are an integral part of Diwali . It’s all good , unless your Chachaji’s daughter burns the corner of her skirt during Diwali 2005 and your mother takes it too seriously.

Not withstanding my mother’s views on the world destroying capability of fire crackers , and in a stance very much in conflict with my age ( I was referred to as ‘Abhi Uncle’ by the seven year old kid of the Yadavs when they visited us two days back . Saale Yadav , apni aulaad ko control kar !) , I decided to get firecrackers this diwali.

A day before diwali , I walked upto my mother as she stood in the kitchen , and in a tone generally reserved for declaration of independence and such historical moments , declared – “Ma , Iss baar patakhe laaunga.”

Ma- "Chup Reh ! Yaad nahi do saal pehle Chinky ke saath kyun hua tha ! Bechari jal hee gayi thee almost ! Chup Reh !"

Me- "Ma ! Uski skirt ka corner jala tha !"

Ma- "Chup Reh !"

Two words which kill off any scope for negotiations, pleading or begging. Especially if they come from a lady who has three types of kitchen knives within her reach. The permission was gained only when I promised to wear one of those inflatable dresses members of bomb defusing squads wear, keep at least four buckets of water placed next to the site , not fire a single rocket which is not perpendicular to the ground and to get married to a girl of her choice.

Note - I have no idea why the second rocket I fired this Diwali changed direction as soon as it left the bottle and zoomed downwards to end it’s eventful journey with a sharp thwack on the windshield on Mr Khosla’s car.. I think Khosla should look at it with a positive outlook – I mean , it could have hit his seventy three year old father . Ask Mr Sharma. Unke papa ne mere fourth rocket ka kya bigaada thaa..


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The ‘Aarti’ is a rather noisy affair at our home , with the collective prayer singing led by my father , who considers himself just a shade higher than Mohammed Rafi during his crooning of ‘om jai jagdish’ . My mother , who sits besides him , tries to keep out his booming call to the gods out of her ears and my sister keeps busy trying to keep the prasad out of my reach till the aarti ends. This year too , everything was regular , until I decided to pick up the ‘aarti ki thali’ placed neatly before the idols , shimmering diyas and all . Not realising that it is slightly hotter than sun , I reached for the plate and grabbed its edge with my right hand . My sister is having trouble hearing since then . It is her fault she was sitting so close when I yelled ‘Aaowww’.

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Gambhir just rammed hard into Afridi and there are some sharp words flying out there !! Gotta go watch this . Pakistan ki @%# !