Monday, January 30, 2006

Suno jee , mujhse shaadi karogi ?

I feel like an Adnan Sami forced to pack myself in Priyanka Chopra's jeans. I feel like a Julia Roberts forced to watch 'Main prem ki deewani hoon' from the front row of Ashok Cinema hall. Kitne examples sunega bhai , samajh ja na ki I feel uncomfortable . I have been tagged by Sanyukta and Binu who want me to put down eight things I desire in my life partner. I seriously think the hindustaani sarkaar is goofing up by not awarding a paramveer chakra to my mother whohas managed to tolerate me for 24 years , so expecting someone to be with me for life scores a perfect ten on the optimism meter. But Mungeri Laal doesn't hold the exclusive copyright to dream. So here goes .

1. The sharmeeli salwaar suit girl

'Bholi si soorat , aankhon mein masti , duur khadi sharmaye'

I first heard these lines from 'Dil to pagal hai' on my school bus. Since then , whenever I imagine my dream girl , these lines start playing in the background of my bheja . Plain face. Minimum make up. Ek choti se bindiya . naazuk . Hair tied a choti. Pink salwaar suit. A few kaanch ki green bangles . Quiet girl . Elegant . Shy. Soft laughter. Hai main marr jaawa butter naan kha ke .The multiplex chaap girl who wears a three year old's bathing suit to parties , drinks , smokes , uses foul words and calls herself independent is a wonderful thing to happen to the cosmetic and tobacco industry , but for me , the bhartiya simple ladki remains incredibly cute . But oye sohniye , not too much shy .

Me ( Back from office ) - Knock . Knock . Oye laajwanti , darwaza khol yar , I am back .
She ( softly ) - Suno jee , mujhe aapke saamne aate hue shy shy feel hota hain jee .
Me ( Trying to keep my voice low while the neighbours look at me curiously ) - Ahem . haha. Arre darwaza khol sweetie , it's been 13 years since our marriage now. Abb kya sharmana .
She ( softly giggling now ) - umm..nahi jee , mujhse nahi kiya jayega . Aapke saamne aate hi sharma jati hu main.
Me ( hitting the briefcase against the door ) - Teri ma ki..

I mean , I love shyness , but I don't want to use my briefcase to enter my home everyday.

2. What's common between ego and dinosaurs ?

Both are dead now. That's right , her ego should be as dead as a thief in Mike tyson's home . I don't like people who have big blue whale sized egos . She should be like "You remember the time I burped loudly when we were having dinner with your boss's family ? HaHa. I am such a goof!". Maybe that's why I have never been attracted to any IIM girl , many of whom can't laugh at themselves . Oye kake , cat clear karrke IIM C ayi hain hema malini , to ego ekdum eiffel tower size ka ho jata hai kaafi ladkiyon ka .

3 . Kuch to log kahenge , logon ka kaam hai kehna .Tu bheje ka kofta mat bana .

Now that she would be married and assumingly exposed to a healthy dose of fat padosans and frustrated colleagues like most Indian women , a lot of junta soundbytes like 'How do you stay with this half crazed nut ?' and 'I know a pretty good divorce lawyer.You deserve a better life' and 'What ?? He comes back late these days ? You should talk to 'Husband-secretary-pol khol detective agency'. I don't want her to kill these padosans and colleagues and dump their bodies under our bed , but she should have a mind of her own to prioritise people and what they say. What most people think about me doesn't move a fingernail on me , and I hope she is kinda chilled too.

4. Tunnu munnu ke papa , chalo aaj 'Haseena maan jayegi' dekhte hain

Kasam Madhubala's smile ki , the girl who actually laughs at Govinda or Akshay Kumar's brand of exaggerated comedy is my kudi , because it shows she actually enjoys brain-less , 'bheja-bhool-ja' variety of antics , which gives her a clean ten extra points in my 'Kaun Banegi Meri patni' contest . Infact , I intend to ask her about this during the 'ladka ladki ek doosre ko jaan le , samajh le' stage .

Me - Hi . Have you seen 'Haseena maan jayegi' ?
She - Oh I love that one !
Me - Oh yeah . How about 'Jodi no.1' ?
She - Uee ma . Seen that 14 times.
Me - That's so touching . Mujhse Shaadi karogi ?
She - Wow , Akshay kumar was so funny in that one .
Me - Oye Basanti , not the movie , this is a real life question. Mujhse Shaadi karogi ?

5. Oh , bhaago Judge sahiba ayi !

I write nonsense . I am not asking you , I am telling you a fact I know . But I write whatever I want to write , rather than what you want me to write . Now a girl reads the stuff at this blog , thinks 'What an idiot he is' , leaves a 'This is crap . And now you are in trouble' comment , reports me to blogger for being a burden on the cyber dharti and calls up her connection in Dubai to get me killed by some Truck during my morning walk. I will marry a lamp post rather than this girl . I mean , the girl should not consider herself the 'I am perfect' , 'I will clean the system' , 'How dare someone be silly' headmistress type character . Chill maar yaar . I am having my fun the way I want to , just leave me to my stupid life , sweetheart .

6. Thoda hain , thode ki zaroorat hain

Her life ka basic funda of happiness should match with mine . I too enjoy my work , but I need to keep the big picture in place . If the purpose of her life is to be on the cover of a business magazine , I am cool. If she is willing to neglect her ( and hopefully , mine too ) kids for that , I am boiling . My priorities - my family , my kids , a happy environment at home. Money is a pen I need to script happiness and comfort for my family. If she loves the pen more than the script , she better marry some 'aag-in-the-belly' , high flying , busy business man whose kids have trouble remembering his face , mere pyare pyare gol mol baccho ko baksh de mrs CEO.

I have to put down two more points about the girl who shall marry me and get to say 'See that guy with the stupid face over there ? He is my husband' . But I don't really think I want pouty red lips or a rich dad in law or 'jheel see aankhein' , because life is not a movie where I can happily drown in her eyes and feel happy forever . Zindagi mein things have to be worked out and when I need her to understand and share my life , pouty lips or pink cheeks won't exactly be a very useful thing . So abhi bass itna hee mangta hoon hanuman ji. If you think you have it in you to be the first ever Miss.Hitler's soul , pick up your cellphone and sms D-I-V-O-R-C-E to 123 rightnow. Sms karne se kya hoga ? Kuch nahi . Aise hee paise waste karwa raha hun yaar.

Friday, January 27, 2006

Aye saala

Gabbar : Arro oh Samba ! Wo bijli ka khamba Amitabh kabb ayega is saale ko bachane ? Mujhe shooting ke alawa aur bhi kaam hain .Saala , teen ghante se pose banaye khada hun .

Samba : Sardaar , suna hai Amitabh uss hands-free thakur aur Basanti ke saath PVR Ramgarh mein Rang De Basanti dekh raha hain .

Dharam praaji : Kutte ! Kameene ! Main uss Amitabh ka khooon pee jaunga !

Hey champak , winamp ka volume low karr and ekdum phull concentration se sunn. Hum dus bande kal Rang De Basanti dekh kar aye hain. And It's heard Aamir was at the same multiplex just till a few hours before we got there . Anyway , abb main tujhe climax batata hun . Accha accha , gusse ki missile matt launch karr rambo , nahi bata raha yaar .

But watch Rang De Basanti .Even if you are the Hollywood ka paseena , angrezo ka choota hua samaan types person who goes "Hind-ee movies ? Eeeks . So stupeed nooo ? All that dancing around trees and bushes and heavy sareees and threee hour long .I nayver waatch hind-eee movies .Hindi moviess are roobish."

Watch Rang De Basanti . Even if you have no paisa in teri pocket . Girlfriend se maang , Dad ke fake sign karr , dost ki bike dhokar kamaa , kidney bhech de , intestines bhech de , pancreas bhech de , saale eyes ke alaawa sab kuch bhech de .Eyes matt bhech diyo. Nahi to saari movie mein yehi poochta rahega saath wale se - "Bhai saab , Aamir ki entry ho gayi kya movie mein ?"

Watch Rang De Basanti .Even if tujhe Hindi itni hee samajh mein ati hain jitni Tom Hanks ko bhojpuri . Saath mein Hindi - Tamil dictionary leja , kisi hindi speaking uncle ko saath le ja , na mile to hall mein saath wale se poochta rahiyo "Umm.Excuse me Da .I can see Aamir . But what is he saying Da ?". Abbe teri , but agar tujhe hindi hee nahi ati , to tu yeh jo main type karr raha hun yeh bhee to nahi palle pad raha hoga charlie chaplin ! Kisi aas paas wale ko yeh pada and pooch main kya bol raha hoon .

Watch Rang De Basanti . Even if you think I am out of my mind . Main jaanta hu main bakwaas likh raha hun but I don't care .Yaar main kya karu , mujhe ek problem hain , mein jyada sochta nahin kuch likhne se pehle . Main abhi aadhe ghante pehle apni angelic neend se jaaga and class miss karr dee so mujhe koi kaam nahi hain . Main hindi mein likh raha hoon kyunki main basically Hindi mein sochta hun .Mere parents toffee ko toffee kehte hain , candy nahi . My mom still looks at me watching Star Movies and says 'hai munnu , tujhe samajh aa jata hain yeh angrez itni tez tez kya bolte hain ?' . So mere bheje ka primary channel hindi mein hee chalta hain . Abbe main off track kyun ja raha hun . Aye saala , tu Rang De Basanti dekh .

Thursday, January 26, 2006

Too mooch trouble

With all due respect to Saurav Ganguly fans , exploited software engineers and other troubled souls of the nation , I am living a content life these days . Infact , I have always enjoyed my circumstances . But things are easy these days . The classes have the frequency of commercial breaks in a repeat telecast of a Kuchipudi dance program on doordarshan . Except the company pre placement talks I attend and a some time I devote to studying , I am as busy as a sales manager at the Antarctica Branch of Carrier Air conditioners . And tickets to Rang De Basanti’s first show have been procured .

And to make things better , N’s parents visited him at the hostel with a lot of of Gajar ka Halwa . It was like kissing your beloved after spending 51 years locked in a Tibetan monastery with a transistor and Rabri Devi for company . Gulping all that halwa was as pleasant as watching Kareena Kapoor retire from movies . After eating what must have taken three acres of carrot fields to make , I plopped down on N’s bed and flashed a content smile at the rickety ceiling fan , sending up a burpy thanks to N’s parents and carrot farmers for the halwa.

Now being true IIM tigers about to hit the corporate jungle soon , me and N tried to strike up a leisurely post-halwa discussion on the rising gold prices and its effect on the jute underwear industry of Indonesia . We tried to move ahead for around three minutes and then unanimously shifted to 'moustaches' as the topic of further discussion .

Moustache . Or ‘mooch’ in hindi . Not the unshaven Abhishek bacchan stubble type thing , but the proper Anil Kapoor type thing . The stuff which is found stuffed in the space between the lips and the nose of some guys , and some girls who were fed some extra testesterone samosas by mothers worried about eve teasing .

I was subjected to the great Chinese moustache torture early in my life . Not that my ma used the wrong oil on me and I grew one at the age of three months , but my dad has one mooch since the time I wiggled open my little eyes . Now my Dad expressed love by saving on expensive lollipops and chocolates and planting free kisses instead . On my cheek . Nothing to do with Michael Jackson or his variety of affection for kids .

So when I was a kid , dad picked me up , smiled , said ‘Mera pyaara beta’ ( My lovely sonny boy ) and kissed me while the hair of his moustache dug into my baby skin . If you have ever been kissed by a mooch-ed object , you will know the weird feeling it produces . While the lips plant a soft kiss on the cheek , the mooch scrapes the skin over the kiss point and the feeling is rather tingly and unwanted . I always followed up this mentally damaging experience by snatching away my cheek from dad and yelling “ Uee ma , aapki mooch ke baal chubhte hain” ( Uee ma , your moustache hairs prick me ). Dad said “Hatt natkhat , Dad ki mooch ke baal baccho ko nahi chubte” .( Hatt naughty boy , Daddy’s moustache never pricks the kid ) . Fearing another kiss , I stayed quiet . When I could bear it no longer , I crept upto my sleeping Dad with his shaving razor in my hand . He woke up just as I grazed his moustache with the razor . At my next birthday party , he made all my moustached uncles and aunties kiss me as a punishment .

Thankfully , I grew up and the threat from Dad’s kissing subsided with his moustache hair softening with his increasing age and his love for me decreasing with my plunging school grades .

Infact I still cannot understand why any self respecting man will carry a toothbrush of hair under his nose . I have scientific evidence it blocks the free flow of air into the nostrils . It’s like holding a mini sugarcane field to your nose while the air struggles and huffs to move past this field of hair to enter the nostril caves . I have heard about cases of moustaches causing suffocation , more so at higher altitudes and in gas chambers . Then managing a moustache requires a lot of time and energy which can be judiciously spent by me going out with girls who enjoy going out with an ugly but 'clean-slate-above-lips' guy. Salman Khan could have wooed , thrashed and re-wooed Aishwarya nineteen times over in the time my Dad spent on trimming and shaping his moustache each day. And a girl needs to have the IQ of a masala dosa to actually prefer a guy with moustaches over a guy without one .

Imagine DDLJ with Raj ( Shahrukh ‘Bath Tub’ Khan ) sporting a hairy bushy Mangal Pandey category mooch dashing through a yellow field singing “Tujhe dekha to yeh jaana sanam” while a scared Simran yells in her cellphone “Hello ! Papa ! Bachao , something hairy is coming towards me !!! Papa !” . Raj Kapoor had a pencil mooch , but then his whole USP thing was in looking stupid . Yeah , Anil Kapoor sports one , but that’s because he has a three inch wide fluorescent yellow mole under his nose he needs to cover up . Infact , the fact that most south Indian heroes sport a mooch befuddles me like the IIT JEE question paper did .

And I had no choice when my dad kissed me . But today’s empowered , liberated and muscular woman may rise in a revolt when a boyfriend/husband approaches her 'dove washed- beautician maintained-lakme moisturised' skin with a sharp and smelly pile of hair just over his pouted lips . The consequences may range from a lost kissing opportunity to divorce . So me and N concluded that a mooch is a facial liability which obstructs respiratory process , eats up valuable time , serves to bring down the beauty quotient of our ugly faces and may prove to be detrimental to any kissing attempts we may undertake in the future , forced or otherwise .

Just then P walked into the room . P is a sikh guy , a sardaar . He has a moustache.

And a beard.

Our eyes checked out his moustache , mentally calculating the number of hours wasted and the number of potential girlfriends missed by P due to his mooch. I even had a sudden vision of P choking in a dinky dark room murmuring "Cough't mooch is killing me...oxygen..". Me and N exchanged knowing looks , nodded and smiled in the warm satisfaction of a meaningful discusion completed . Then our eyes slid down to his beard in unison , quietly starting to analyze a beard’s utility . We had zoomed down on the topic for our next leisurely post-halwa discussion. I am not even starting on that .

Thursday, January 19, 2006

Touching memories

Blogging is like making an STD call . Both the things are easier to do at night. While lower calling rates bag it for the STD calls , a more silent and peaceful boys hostel makes blogging better at night.

Anyways , I am back from watching a show of "Zinda" at the INOX . If there are two things good for my heart , they are saffola cooking oil and hindi movies . These movies don't trouble my heart with unsuspected twists and unexpected endings. The rape scenes are invariably interrupted by the hero who comes crashing in through some expensive glass door. Honest school teachers are usually killed by the bad guy while the teacher's kid hides behind a flower pot and takes a colored mental photograph of the killer for future revenge . The good guy grabs decent airtime between being shot and being dead , which he utilises well by stopping people from calling the ambulance and telling everyone around to take care of each other after he is dead .

Of course , I have seen some movies challenge the norms , a notable example being "Saiyan Magan Pahelwani Mein" ( My guy is busy wrestling ) , which is in fact a bhojpuri movie , which I was made to watch on gunpoint by masked men who remain unidentified till date. So when I saw Lara Dutta as a Cab Driver in the flick "Zinda" , it was another 'awe and wonder' kodak moment for me . The rest of the movie was kinda drab , with Sunjay Dutt looking like in urgent need of a barber , clean bath and fresh collection of santa banta jokes to change his 'depressed-cant smile-wont comb my hair' mood in the movie . But a slim and pretty Lara Dutta as a cab driver was something unexpected for me , which made me view my hairy and creepy cab driver on the way back with a deep sense of dissatisfaction.

Speaking of the taxi ride , we were six IIM students and one non IIM driver stuffed in a cab , and as is the rule within Indian jurisdiction , I was making around 93% of the noise . 3% is attributed to a running car engine and occasional honking . 4% was coming from guys threatening me with touching statements like and "Do you always giggle without reason?" and "Move away man , give me some space."

In an twist of fate completely unrelated to the unfounded allegations about cramped space leading to inappropriate touching , our topic of conversation veered onto gays . Ok , confession time. Unintentionally , I drove the conversation right into it . In most situations , one of my primary aims is to have harmless , export quality fun . The guy sitting next to me in the cab was a bengali lad who is more interested in the stock market than a fire extinguisher even when his pants are on fire , keeps steel and sugar prices pasted on his desktop , and rebukes me with a nice little 'dhatt' when I ask him about girls . Smirking gleefully at his being trapped in a running car with me , I grabbed his shoulder , squeezed it softly and asked in a delicious throaty voice "Hey buddy , have you ever seen a gay , before me that is... " and squeezed his shoulder again followed with a crooked smirk. I expected him to shriek and lunge towards the nearest car window . And it was like I had found a beady eyed frog floating in my steaming bowl of tomato soup when he looked at me , lowered his eyes and utterred 'yeah , once'. He went on to tell us about some gay guy who had made a pass to him on a late night in bangalore. Which sent me sliding back to the flashback when I met a gay man.

I was in my engineering college then and was walking down a street after getting off a bus . A 40 something man , riding a green scooter passed me , slowed down and asked if I wanted a lift . Feeling glad that such people still exist in the northern hemisphere , I happily nodded and jumped onto the pillion. I had heard about hitchhikers being robbed or molested , but that stuff happened in cars with tinted glasses . I dint really see him robbing a college bag with a battered notebook and a leaking pen inside , and dint really see that happening on a green old scooter which had no windows , tinted or otherwise .

He started off with some sweet talk , asking me about my college and engineering , which made me a little uncomfortable as I feared he may ask about my marks next , which were so low that I needed a submarine too find them . But my "How uncomfortable are you?" measurement device blew up when he actually took a hand off the handle and placed it on my thigh in such a way , I knew this was "When Harry met Harry" happening with me . I immediately asked him to stop and got off . The freak threw a 'please come again' smirk at me as I hurried away.

If you think I am making it up for some reason, it's fine , I don't think a certificate saying anything like "It is hereby certified that Mr.Abhinav has been molested according to prescribed techniques by Mr.Freak on a green scooter" , will add much value to my CV.

Coming back to the safer cab ride , for next half an hour , it was a soulful confession class for six IIM guys who went about telling about the gay men some of them had come upon . It was discovered that three of us had actually felt a gay thing being done to us . One of us used it to claim that he was actually a cute guy and hence considered suitable enough for this noble attempt by some creep . Defying my penchant for stupidity , I was not the one to claim this . Fearing he may feel left out and hike up the fare meter in anger , I almost asked the driver if he wanted to share any victimised memories about gay guys , but my pals had this sudden flash of an angry driver thrashing me on a crowded calcutta street and suggested otherwise .

Anyways , it's almost six in the morning now and I got classes in six hours from now , so I need to hit the scooter..err , sack now . I don't wake up in a cold sweat yelling "stop the scooter" and I don't turn into a "green scooter owner" killer at 2 am every night , but it did scare me . And it makes me feel how tough it must be for girls with eve teasers as common as stray dogs . I really feel I should have kicked that scooter guy that day , instead of sneaking away . But I hope to find him someday. So if you got a green scooter , you better paint it some other color.

Sunday, January 08, 2006

Kabhi hum apne fone ko , kabhi uss ad ko dekhte hain

Waise to noone is chillaying "abhi , kahan gayab ho gaya tu !! Maloom tere bin roti nahi khayi jaatee thee mujhse !! " , but main ultra deluxe besharmo jaise bata deta hun , I had been busy with the dramatics club play we staged last night . Anyway , forget that , abhi tu apna bajaj scooter utha , go to the nearest magazine stall , buy the new year edition of 'Business today'. Turn around the cover page .You will see my color fotu with my right arm around Priyanka Chopra and left arm around Esha Deol and Mallika Sherawat holding up a table fan to my face and Lara dutta dangling Black Grapes over my head and Amisha Patel standing some feet away with a "Swami jee , mujhe bhee apni seva karnne dijiye na please" expression on her tiny face . Hai allah , me and my rangeen dreams.

Anyway ,if you turn the page , You will come upon an advertisement for a cellphone.

I mean , bhaiyya , the ad says that it is a cellphone . Though it looks like a 4 inch mercedes. I thought the "uee ma , main gayab ho gaya !" wala gadget Anil Kapoor found in Mr.India would be the most complex gadget to be invented. Now I do not. The cellphone in the advertisement has these features - Direct to TV output 2 mega pixel flash camera , 262K color QVGA TFT-LCD , expandable memory slot ,Dual speaker 3D sound , music player ( MP3 , AAC ,AAC+), camcorder and video messaging ( mpeg , h.263 ), piscel document viewer , bluetooth wireless , pictbridge printing and GPRS quadband. Hey raam , yeh fone hai ya mini satellite. Thinking of phones , mujhe flashback yaad aa raha hai bott zoro se.

When I was a little kid , I thought my dad was a photographer. When my nursery teacher asked the kids to name their dad's occupation , I said "mere pappa camera chalate hain". It was only when he pumped a 3 feet lamba vaccine into my mulayam kiddy bottoms that I surely knew that he was a doctor. But to my little brain , he remained a photographer because of his amar prem for photography. Vaccine stabbings and bright red capsules and savlon dabbings happened occasionally. What happened regularly was my dad cropping up with his japanese camera and clicking me and my sister .

My dad has clicked a three year old me splashing happily in a little orange plastic bathtub where I have this "I am nanga !! But who cares !!" expression on my face. He has clicked my two year old sister clutching an empty plastic bag and going 'shopping' on a five year old horse ( me ) , where she has this "jaldi karr ! Chintu sarees pe 50% sale lagee huee hain !" expression on her face. He has clicked a six year old me holding the receiver of our phone to my left ear with a "hey sonali , what are you doing this evening ? Let us meet over a couple of lollipops" expression on my stupid face. I remember the phone in our home at that time. It was black. It had that coiled wire connecting a big banana like receiver to a base heavy enough to outweight Riya Sen .It rang sometimes , with a simple 'Trrring Trrring'. Mostly , it was my mausi who used to chat with ma about Indore wali aunty's new jewellery set or some recipe for a 'never-seen-before' variety of halwa. In spite of these culinary disaster plots , those were telephonically peaceful times.

I got my first cellphone in the second year of my engineering. I still remember that kaali amaavas ki raat , when my dad called me to his room and opened the corner wali puraani almirah to bring it out. I saw it and yelled "uee ma!!" and ran away to hide behind the curtains. It was as big as a extra juicy bumper sized hotdog. The antennae on its top could have been used for pole vaulting over the college gate. When I sat down in the classroom ,with the cellphone in my trouser's pocket , the antennae found its way towards the front part and stuck out. When they noticed that , the boys whispered "idiot. Put that Delhi Police type walkie talkie on the table. The thing is sticking out ". When the girls saw that , they turned red and started turning the pages of their books in disgust . I hated that cellphone. In the final year,I got a new cellphone. This was much smaller and had no antennae. But the damage had already been done by the previous one . Some of the girls in my class still believe it was not the antennae.

*CoMmerciaL BreAk*

I have been looking for the track "Welcome to wherever you are - Bon Jovi". So if you could mail it to me at , I shall gift you a colorful mobile cover and a lot of other useless goodies ! Hurry ! Mauka Nikal na jaye !. Sacchi , I want that number badly.

*Back to the damn stupid post*

Since then , a lot of contaminated paani has flown under the bridge. Kai Mausam guzar gaye , kai sardiyan guzar gayi , kai garmiyan guzar gayi, kai patjhad guzar gayi , kai spring guzar gaye , meri colony ke mr.taneja guzar gaye , and mere jeevan se kai cellphone guzar gaye . But I still got a very normal cellphone with no inbuilt megapixel cameras or inbuilt juicer-cum-mixers or inbuilt water dispensers or inbuilt flat screen televisions or inbuilt AK 47s. I dont even recall what is the model number of my handset for sure. For the 'features' part in my masoom gareeb cellphone , it has got a phone book , sms facility ( jispe airtel guys tell me that i can be the next indian idol or have lunch with shahrukh khan by sending L U N C H to 123 ) , and FM radio . I plug in the headphones when I feel the professor is too boring or when I want to look a "subhan allah , what a music diggin cool dude ! Yo maaan ! " types guy. And the phone can make and receive calls too.

I look at it and then at this advertisement before me. It seems I am some stone age animal , born in some stony cave with dinosaurs roaming around in the backyard , and me wearing deer skins as chaddis in routine and tiger skins as party wear chaddis , and using a normal cellphone when the world is moving onto this bhayankar gadget which they call a cellphone. But I think I will survive with this one. Atleast , When I sit down with it in my trouser pockets , it has no 'Bijli ka Khamba' sized antennae to visit awkward places .

Sunday, January 01, 2006

Zooming into 2006 . With the FOMH.

Date - Dec 31 , 2005 .

Scene 1 - My room
Time - Around 6 pm.

The Fly over my head ( FOMH ) - *sniff sniff* What's this smell ?

Me - Call it fragrance , idiot. Smell is this ! *forcing my smelly socks on FOMH face*

FOMH - Whatever ! your so called 'fragrance' seems like that of a dead dog pizza cooked in some armpit sweat ! yucks !

Me - You won't understand. It's Axe . I am going out with my pals . The Axe affect is supposed to attract girls . Some pretty big eyed bengali lass is gonna sniff my deo and yell 'marry me' tonight .

FOMH - I have been seeing that deo spray in your room for a month now . But I have never seen you with anything resembling a girl .

Me - Ahem..Sorry . I can't hear you .

Scene 2 - A taxi
Time - Around 7 pm

FOMH - Why did you just yell !! Is the driver next to you trying to touch your thighs while changing gears ? I know that happens. You can tell me .We can get you justice !

Me - Damn you fly ! We are singing ! We guys are in a fun mood . So we are singing along "Deedaar De" playing on the cab radio .

FOMH - Damn you human ! This sounds like the howling of itchy stray dogs who are being carried away in the municipal dog control van .

Me ( yelling at the top of my voice ) - aa saamne aur tham le teri aamanat yaar main deedar de deedar de deedar de deedar le * sticking out my tongue at FOMH *

Scene 3 - INOX multiplex , Kolkata
Time - Around 9 pm

FOMH - Man , this place is good . Look at the crowd ! I wish I was a human.

Me *smirk* - You are not .So you gotta hang out with some tentacled little hairy housefly.HaHa.

FOMH - Looks like distilled water was in that AXE spray of yours. The girls aint exactly falling in your arms , eh ?

Me - You see that curly haired girl in yellow standing there ? She just talked to me.

FMOH - She asked you the time .

Me - So ? That is a start .

Scene 4 - Food Court , INOX multiplex, Kolkata
Time - Around 9.30 pm

FMOH - Hey loser , order a veg pizza for me .A coke maybe. That will be all. Make it fast.

Me - Oh Oh Oh , you see that orange trashbin near the pillar ? It's got the goodies for you .Go treat yourself over the leftovers ! Haha.

FMOH *gasps* - What is that thing next to you ??

Do I look hungry ?

Me - Well , ahem...thats my friend , Manish.He eats at the mess , new boys hostel , IIM C .So he may look a little excited about getting worm-less and hair-less and tasty food. *nudging manish* Abbe stop panting , act like a human . Stop panting over the food and eat it. We need to get back to campus before the party begins .

Scene 5 - Old Hostel compound , IIM C
Time - Around 1 am

FMOH - Eeeeeks !! Someone help this little guy under me !! Quick !

Me - *drenched in sweat* Huh ? What ? I am fine !

FMOH - But you are shaking violently ! NO NO NO , just lie down ! I will get help ! Don't worry ! I won't leave you here ! I will be back honey ! You are not gonna die !

Me - Bah ! Are you the miss.idiot of your fly-land ? I am just dancing ! Rock it !! Don't you listen to the blaring music here .Feel the angrezi music take you over , kid !

FOMH - Angrezi music ? But if your physical movements are to be classified under a dance form , it will be some violent version of bhangra .

Me - Who cares ! Oye Hoye ! Harrippaa !! * charges towards a fellow dancer , accompanied by radically dangerous pelvic movements *

Scene 6 - Old Hostel compound , IIM C
Time - Around 3 am

FMOH - Come on , enough of your stupidity . Now stop dancing vulgarly with your pals here and get back to the room . Be a good boy. Let's go back now. I need some sleep. Am going on a date with 'Joe-the-moth' , my new boyfriend tommorrow. I am so glad I found Joe after that 'son of a butterfly' Jimmy dumped me .

Me * rolling eyes* - Man ! Now that some desi punjabi tracks are coming on , you want to go back because of some 2 inch moth . That is why I hate this girlfriend-boyfriend thing !

scene 7 - My room.
Time - Now . Jan 1 , 2006 .

I feel as tired as a mother of seven hyperactive kids after all that dancing.( yeah that was dancing , FMOH is just too stupid to appreciate good moves). So I think I will sleep now . The food and the party was a great way to start my year. Hope you have a real classy 2006. FMOH is asleep now. Must be dreaming of her date with Joe tomorrow. Women !