Kutto ki Rang Birangee Duniya

Hello Jee , kee haal ? Aap to aajkal ghar aate hee nahi , kabhi bhai sahib ko lekar aiyye na…ab to bacche bhee bade ho gaye honge..bittu kaunsi class mein aa gaya…ok ok sorry , wo Diwali par uncle aunty logo ke beech Hello jee ke baad inti saaree baatein hoti hai ki main emossnal ho gaya tha . So shareef logo jaise , hello jee .

So , October is such a rapchandooos month nahi ? So many holidays , my boss must be singing “wake me up , when October ends..” . I am in another long weekend and while I have been undergoing international level transformations at both professional and personal levels ( Mera kunwarapan apni aakhiri saansein gin raha hai aunty ! ) , I still find enough time to ruminate about deeper issues such as what happens after death , why has my cellphone been smelling like a masala dosa lately , and the spelling of czekoslovacia…czhekoslovakkia…checho..watever !

But my ears perked up when I read about an article which said they are capturing stray dogs in Malaysia and deporting them to an island where the environment is harsher than the inside of Himesh Reshammiya’s bathroom . ( Accha , agar uska bathroom scary nahi lagta to imagine a naked Himesh singing “Aye Huzoooor” in a shower . Ab laga darr ? ) So coming back to the biting topic , I think it is pretty bad that stray dogs are being put through this .

I mean , come on yar , they are itchy , lie around in drains , bark at insane hours setting off the car alarm and do susu on the front tyre of your pink scooty , but phir bhee yaar , stray dogs form a part of our society , just like that tiny beggar kid who sells plastic goggles at a traffic signal or a lazy cow which chooses to dump in the middle of the street a never seen before version of the aloo ke paranthe she ate. I , for one , think it is a kuttapanti to hate stray dogs like this and given a chance , I would bite such people in the leg ( Shit man , I hope I don’t start wagging my behind when I am happy ! ) .

In fact , if I float down in the world of stray dogs , I think there are various kinds of stray dogs . I mean , no offence to any dog , each dog has a personality and a favorite color and a favorite film star of his own ( Which, I feel , is never a Dharmendra ) , but still , in my opinion , there are some variety of stray dogs :


1.The lazy ones – “Sone de na , kutte !”

These are the ones which were born ( By the way , would a dog mind if you call him a SOB ? ) to sleep . Ye paida hote hain and the first thing they do is to crawl under a white maruti swift parked nearby and sleep. I seriously envy these guys man . I mean , these guys can sleep like angels in the drawing room of the Deol household , which as per research carried out by Brainy Kuttas association of the world has been ranked as the most dangerous place for kuttas in the world . Kyun ? Abbe baap kutto ka khoon peeta hai pineapple juice ki maafik , ek puttar ka dhai kilo ka haath hai aur doosre puttar ke to baal dekh kar hee kutte darr jaate hai .

I mean , If there were beds made for dogs , this bunch would be the gold card customers for the doggy carpenters . I can imagine what these guys would yell at a loudly talking human being who disturbs their sleep as they sleep on a pavement – “Sone de na , kutte !” . The only thing which can make them crawl from under that shady charpai is hunger , which brings us to the next market segment of kuttas.

2.The bhookha ones – “Main to haddi ka pujareee..mujhe haddi chahiye”

I mean , a typical specimen of this market segment can be visualized like this – Dirty brown , with a tongue hanging out like an extra large bedsheet hanging out from the side of a bed , and eyes that scream “Khaaana!!!” . These guys are found in trash bins of all the eating places. Nirulas , Mcdonalds , KFCs , TGIFs , they are like print outs of google maps to all the eating joints in the town . You can ask any one of them “Bhai Saab , yahan se McD ke liye kaise jaana hai” and they will tell you all you need to know !

But the kuttapanti of the situation is that while these gentlemen eat all the time , they are also the most skinny . Most of these dogs look like imports from Somalia and weigh almost equal to a polythene bag.


3.The Vaasna ke Pujari Kutte – “Aao rani!”

Think Prem chopra in a silk gown Combined with Ranjeet in a tight baniyan topped off with a little bit of Amrish Puri . Now think all of this in the form of a dog.
They don’t care much about sleep or food or running after every car they see ( Waise dogs don’t chase Tata Nanos . Kutte confuse ho jaate hai ki yeh car hai ya two wheeler ? ). All they care about is the pushpas and Kamlas of their neighbourhood.

They smell them , chase them and create the most disturbing scenes in the middle of public places which are questioned by kids using innocent questions “Bhaiiya , yeh doggies aise ajeeb style mein kyun khel rahe hai?”.

I mean , just these guys are reasons enough for institutionalization of dog police.

4.The cute “Ui ma , look at him” types !

Technically, these guys should be on the back seat of a silver Corolla , in a little green sweaters and sunglasses perched on their pink noses . But galat community mein paida ho Gaye . So even they are cute and little girls want to bring them home and keep them in shoe boxes, they end up scratching themselves in places they should be wearing nylon jockeys. Although they form a very little percentage of the total stray kuttas market , they are like the only dogs who look like they have ever used cosmetics in a world which is populated by dogs who look like they have only been to a drain. The Ranbeer Kapoors and Imran Khans of doggies.

5.The “Gaadi chalaunga!” ones

Sacchi Sacchi batana , how many times have you raced your bike against that dog who chases you everytime you cross that street ? Mujhe to bada maza aata hai. I turn that corner around that pastry shop , and as I shift down to third gear , I see him . Eyes focused , teeth showing , with his body taut and ready to chase me down.

I put the bike back into fourth and create a distance between the bike and him as I pass him . As if jolted by a gunshot , he sprints off like a cheetah and comes after me . He generally gives up by the time I cross the the flower shop further down that street. But then , if this bunch of dogs could talk , I guess most of us would want to ask them “Peecha karta kyun hai be ? Aur agar pakad leta to karta kya ? Bike chalata ?”.

So uncle Charlie , kutte to aur bhee tarah tarah ke hain . Lekin iss Rang Birangi Kutto ki duniya ko aur nahi soonghte abhi . Kuch kaam shaam kar lete hain . Weekend khatm hone ko hai , phir kaam ayo re . Sigh , yeh office kyun jaana padta hai yaar ? Yeh life bhee badi “kutti” cheez hai re pushpaa…take care, and don’t bite anyone !

Of death , movies and other regular stuff

So , the last time I wrote something here , was a time when Kapil Dev was in polka dotted diapers and dinosaurs used to prance around the earth with gay abandon . Ok , that’s a slight exaggeration about the extent of my absence , but you get the drift.

Absenteeism reasons , though I assume you care more about the dirt stuck under the nail on your left little finger than my absenteeism reasons , range from being busy with a domesticised and less grandiose version of that part of Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Ghum where Bacchan Saab tells SRK that he must not marry Kajol ( Oh yeah , now this is the part which makes my female friends go "oh wow ! Bata na Bata na ") , to , settling in a job where the best part of my day remains hitting the coffee button on the sputtering machine or discovering the OS on my laptop has crashed.

But this being a late weekend night when I rest with a un-full tummy ( you know , with the advent of better preservation gadgets , my mom has really minimised cooking now ) and nothing much on the TV , I think I will talk about something , which is totally unaligned with the kind of person I am . I mean , considering the kind of person I am , the deepest conversation I should be having should be about some elephant with a real bad digestion , but I say with the unflinching honesty of a Vinod Kambli on Sach ka Saamna , I am not trying to seem like the next Aristotle here . All I am trying to do is talk rather pointlessly about something which has been hovering in the back alleys of my mind since this morning with the feeble yet significant buzz of a mosquito trapped in your ear canal – Death.

Death , you know . That part of life which ends it . Considering that I have not yet not died though many sensible people have tried to eradicate me , I don’t know how it must be after death , but I do imagine it to be very quiet , relaxed , solitary and chill after death . I am not sure if there is a heaven for the good guys and a hell for the bad guys , and as a result , I am not very concerned about the old woman I pushed off the stairs last week . I mean , you understand how annoying it is to be not be able to rush down the stairs because a 67 year old ahead of you moves slower than a sofa , don’t you ? But the fact remains that I am going to die someday , wether it happens when I am digging into a hotdog ( I hope I have finished the most of it by that time , mommy says food should not be wasted ) or it happens when I am wedged between the rubber tyres of a DTC bus , whether I am going to be regaled by Arabian dancers in some heaven , or be served as supper to hungry devils in a green tubelight-ed hell .

And you know , what I am thinking about is that moment , that moment which is sitting delicately at the end of the road called life as it ends , yet opens up into the unknown chasm called death . That moment , when I will be on the verge of being lifted by death , and I will know in my heart “Shit yaar , yeh end hai , ab picchar baaki nahi hai mere dost” . Now no “Dawa ya Dua” can save me ! No people , no movies , no cars , no boss , no relationships , no money , no smiles , no Himesh Reshammiya , no fights , no competitions , no career , no TV , nothing , after the event called Death .

That moment , when I will know in my heart , that irrespective of my willingness to go or not , I would be gone next moment . In that moment , I imagine myself to feel guilty about the heart I broke , happy about the smile I brought on a face , sad about the moment I should have told my mother I loved her but did not , proud of the moment I believed in someone and stood by her , happy about the times I spent laughing with my friends , grateful for the moments somebody knew me as I am and accepted me , heartbroken about being a son lesser than a son I should have been . And just experiencing a little of that moment by writing about it , I am shocked by how easily do I forget what really matters . Kitni choti choti baton par senti ho jaata hoon main ! I mean , how easily do I forget that I am going to die and a lot of stuff doesn’t really matter . How easily do I forget that however blind I may try to be to my reality , that moment will thrust the sum of deeds in my face without leaving me with an escape route . How easily do I allow myself to lose perspective and be drowned in the useless ego fights , pointlessly hurting the very people I love , choosing not to express my love just because I am too proud to do so , not taking that stupid seeming but heartfelt leap because I never have . How easily I forget the impending arrival of that last moment , and as a result , how easily I forget what really matters during the moments I have between now and that moment . How easily do I let myself be scared by the insecurities of a life unknown and continue to suffer a situation I don’t enjoy when that moment will snatch away whatever fake securities I build around myself . How easily I shut up my heart and listen to all the voices around me , when in the end , the only voice I will have to hear is the voice of my heart . How easily I forget death , and thus , how easily I forget how to live . I mean , sometimes I really need this perspective check and get out of the holed up thinking and view life in a more cool manner . Saala khul ke jeena bhool jaata hoon yaar . I mean , I act like I have a lot to lose and get all scared and calculated , when hai kya mere paas khone ke liye ?

I know you are either confused , or bored , or both and would label the drivel above as some cheap regurgitation of some pocket book sized Geeta I recently read . But you know , I am just talking to myself , like those bollywood-ish village crackheads who roam around the village mumbling to themselves with their overgrown and uncombed hairstyles and are taunted and stoned by the half naked village urchins .

So chill , don’t walk out of this blog feeling all suicidal and kill yourself by smelling your own feet . Aise hee baat kar raha tha kakke . And the movie season kicks in pretty soon now , with Wake up Sid and Do Knot Disturb released today , and I really need to spike up my movie watch counter this weekend . If any of you stays around Palam Vihar and needs company over a movie , I am totally in , though don’t think I am running some shady “frandship club” with those heart shaped ads in hindi newspapers. By the way , watched "What’s your Rashee” today , and even though the end is a bit “Hain??” types , the movie did seem pretty delightful and 'feel good' to me . Moral of the story - Harman Baweja is not that bad an actor . I mean , he is a bit wooden , but not exactly teak . Second moral of the story - Just because I noticed Harman does not mean I am not straight !

And before I go back and cook some maggi for me ( Oh yes , it’s 11.48 in the night and I am really hungry , courtesy the fact that mommy offered me “kal ke raajma and parso ke chawal” for dinner) , please see the stuff posted below , which is about a Brand Management course for Designers being offered by ‘Brands of Desire’ , a Strategic Brand Consultancy and Design Company based out of New Delhi . I can vouch for it that if you are a student of design or a working designer , the course can help you learn some pretty useful things about further upgrading your skill sets . Mail uboweja@brandsofdesire.com to know more.

~~~~

Brands of Desire is proud to launch India's first ever
"Brand Management Course for Designers".

Mera dil kehta tha tum zaroor wapis aaoge..

Now, I really would like to provide a set of fully furnished apartments to homeless animals someday, but for now, I request Mr. Spider and his family to vacate the cobwebs threading through this blog, for I am clearing them.

~ Background mein se ghabraya hua sawaal : “Abbe saale Abhi , tu phir aa gaya ?? Abbe aadmi hai ya Dev Anand , kab retire hoga ? ~

Yeah , though three fourths of my soul was recently destroyed by a screening of ‘Kambaqth Ishq’ , I am technically alive . And by the way , as I walked , nah , staggered out of the multiplex after being subjected to “Kambaqth Ishq” , I could believe if somebody told me that Kumar Sanu has been crowned Miss Universe , but I would have smirked and said “Abbe Hata saawan ki ghata , baawala hai kay?” if somebody had predicted that Kambaqth Ishq would be a hit . But hey bhagwaan , yeh tera kaisa insaaf hai , THAT movie is actually doing well ! I mean , seriously bhai , that movie was cheaper than an Center Fresh . Kuch bhee ho raha hai world mein .

And even though a mole on your back would interest you more than my life would, please believe me when I say I was busy quitting my job , pretending to understand every word my new boss says , and moving closer to a married life ( recently I read on the internet that ‘married life’ is an abbreviation for “ life with more diapers and lesser credit cards” ? Internet can be a scary place sometimes. ).

About my new job , with every job I am exposed to , I am more convinced that the most meaningful thing in the day of a working woman is finding out a 35% discount is on at Willls Lifestyle . Haan yeh to hai , that now that I am at this job is at Gurgaon , they are a little more ‘hi society’ to gossip about Wills Lifestyle or Satya Paul . Back at my job in Punjab , they used to gossip about Harpreet Fashions or Gurwinder Style Palace , but concept wahi hai – Ladiej will be Ladiej .

But the eerie part is , that like my previous job which I quit , after stuffing all their mousepads and staplers in my bag on my last day , my new job has also been taking me to Punjab pretty regularly . I mean , I love Punjab with all its yellow fields , paranthas with little planets of butter sitting on them and music videos of Chamkeela . ( No really , they have a singer called Chamkeela . Because of his name , Initially , I was a bit confused if he was a man or a patch of aluminum foil .) But come on yaar , with all my time in Punjab , it creates some issues when I come back to Gurgaon. I mean , a Punjabi Dhaba serves pickles larger than the paranthas my mom makes , and I am starting to say ‘I am fine , thank you , balle balle shavaa shaava Harippa Oye Hoye Chak De Aahun Aahun ’ when people enquire about my well being .

And , one movie which I am looking forward to is ‘Love AajKal’ . With all its colorful promos and catchy music , I am all geared up with my popcorn bag. Meri to body automatic hilne lagti hai ‘Twist’ mein naagin tune sunkar while mummy screams “Arre koi chappal Sunghao isse ! Kaat lega yeh manhoos kisi ko !”.

Although there is no denying that the “Dhan Tanaaaaaa” track from Kaminey has completely captured my heart . Although as per my colleagues , carrying it as my ring tone is not a very helpful tool to climb the corporate ladder . I am told that ki bhaiyya , corporate world mein , you need to have more distinguished ringtones . You know , something more smooth and definitely English . And if the lyrics are along the lines of ‘My boss looks like a cross between Leo Di Caprio and Brad Pitt’ , he would surely be happier during your appraisal. I mean , I knew that booking my boss’s mother’s flight tickets and saying ‘You look pretty beautiful , madam’ everytime I see his wife were pretty crucial to the long term well being of my professional career , par ab ringtone bhee uske hisaab se !

But seriously man , I missed talking to you guys . Kya din the na wo bhee….oye hoye , sentimental na ho Kakke , what I mean is that it is so comforting talking to people who can not reply. It’s like tickling the nose of a taped Thakur Saab , when Ramu Kaka is on annual leave. You can have all the fun touching his nose in all the sensitive places while he mumbles “Ramu kaka ko chutti se wapis aane de , fir tujhe thappad marwaunga.”

So now that the cobwebs have cleared up a bit and the spider family has gone to court , ( man , I am reminded of those hindi fillum scenes where the builder comes in to “Basti Khaali Karane ke liye” ) , I think I will try to utilize my Sunday by doing something which helps my country and takes it to glorious heights our ancestors dreamed about . For a start ….check karta hoon HBO par kya aa raha hai…

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.

Punjab Di Khabran ( Hope thats good punjabi ?)

~ There is a Cinema Hall right next to my office in Chandigarh . I mean , I step out of the office and my foot lands in the balcony . Rickshaw bhee nahi lena yaar . Boss se daant khayi ? Movie dekho ! Laptop crash ho gaya ? Movie Dekho ! Salary mein Income Tax jyada kat kar aya hai ? Movie Dekho ! And I have to watch Singh is Kingg there. Being in Punjab , how can I miss this one ? That would be like being in a Girls Hostel wearing opaque glasses.

~ After four long turbulent years , I am getting myself a Bike again . Have been driving a car since then , and my recommendation is that unless you have three screaming kids and a wife who wants you to take her to the annual discount sale , buying a car is like going to the Library with Hansika Motwani ( Hansika Who ? You are lucky you don’t know ) when you can splash on a beach with Priyanka Chopra. Streaming down on a rain washed road riding a bike . Cool wind against the face . And a 6’2” Constable Daljeet Singh from Punjab Police giving you a ticket for over speeding. Bliss.

~ The way things look , I will be on the Delhi-Chandigarh Shatabdi almost every week . Last week , I undertook the first one of these trips . Learning – If the question is : What makes more noise : A) A Jet Plane playing Himesh on the CD player and revving its engine behind your ear ? B) Three sardaar kids playing Antakshari on the seat behind yours ? , the answer is B . I guess my faith in the physical capabilities of their father saved them , otherwise I had a clear action plan to fling them out of the window . Atleast the one in the Yellow Turban who was singing that song from Ashok Mastie. Thanks to them , my Ipod is back on the train Journeys.

~ I am staying as a Paying Guest in Chandigarh . I hope the landlord’s family has an appreciation for music at late hours . Because unless they think playing Linkin Park at 2 in the morning is a good idea , me and them are going to have some serious opinion differences . And then don’t blame me if their pet dog goes missing.


~ I know this is kinda girly , but I have been following a show called ‘Splitsvilla’ on MTV lately . I never knew Indian Girls knew so many Hindi Galis . I never knew Indian Girls could be so mean over a stupid game show . I never knew my faith in the strength and elegance of the women of today would dive lower than my college grades.

~ Here in Punjab , show me a Parantha without Butter , and I will show you a Camel which plays Golf . And it’s not butter as we normal Delhi people know it . It’s a huge dollop of Butter melting right on top of a steaming Parantha . I mean , aisa lagta hai makkhan hee serve kar rahe the , galti se neeche ek parantha dab gaya . If my calculations are right , the money worth of Butter being used at Lucky Dhaba on the road connecting Ludhiana and Amritsar is only slightly higher the combined GDP of Botswana and Zimbabwe.

~ I recently got a Nokia Business Phone . While I am yet to explore it’s multiple features which , Nokia claim , include everything except a Juice Maker and a Nuclear Missile Launch Button , one of its features is that the phone says out the name of the caller . And that’s a pretty interesting thing . Yesterday , when a friend by the name of Himani called me , I was like “Huh ? He Man found my number ??”.

~ These days , a summer trainee has been doing a project with me as her “Mentor” , which by the way , is similar to Salman Khan running Khan School of Driving . Anyway , a couple of days ago , she was seated in my cabin and I was thinking aloud about an aspect of her project , when she suddenly broke into a chuckle and said “You know Sir ! I really like your working style ! Such a non serious attitude towards Work !” . Well , she still claims that was a compliment , but I have told her to be more direct the next she drops me a ‘compliment’.

~ It’s 2.45 in the morning. And only a job with a call center can keep me up now. Time to Crash. And if I don’t have a good day at office tomorrow , I think the cinema hall next to it is playing some comedy .

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 ..

*************

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 .

***

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..


****

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’.

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